Pain either makes people resentful or hopeful.

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Most nights were restless for Katsuki. He had been at the hospital for a good while at that point and still hadn't managed to get used to the firm, thin mattresses of the bed. He'd stare at the blank wall, almost as if were a hobby, and he'd think about the nothingness. About the miscellaneous things. About his mom. About his dad but he'd stop there just before the pent up anger could erupt and take over.

No one was around. Just him while everyone else slept.

He stood up from his bed, adjust the small bag that had been moved from the waistband of his pants to the metal bars on the side of the bed so he wouldn't crush it in his sleep. He strapped it to his shoulder, under the clothing, and tapped the tube down to his arm with some clear tape he found on the counter so it wouldn't get snagged on anything.

Walks at night were the best. No one bothered or tried to help him as he used the wall for support. It was a time when he could be independent, where he could struggle and be in pain and angry at the fucked up world on his own. Without the constant hovering, he felt like he could breathe. Ironic, wasn't it?

Sometimes he would take his camera with him to see if he could capture certain ways the moonlight came into a room. There were times when he'd stand by a window for hours, shifting with the light while experimenting with different angles to see if he could capture something. Anything. Or he'd hide when a nurse came and use them as a muse without their knowledge. Raw imagery was the best.

Katsuki didn't remember going down to the ground floor. He was descending down a hallway littered with large windows and he couldn't pass up the opportunity to take as many photos as he could. There were limits though, he was running out of film and he didn't know when his mom would come around again. Katsuki didn't take as many as he could, it was more like three and they weren't even that good.

But while moving down the empty hallway, a faint musical sound could be hurt. Soft, distant, beautiful. Captivating. He moved towards the sound faster, and as he turned the corner he found the lobby and instantly knew the sound was going from the piano before he could even see the person playing it.

The lobby was dimly lit by the lights lining the windows on the outside and what small amount of moonlight that could get in. As Katsuki moved towards the piano and objects came into view, he was able to see an oxygen tank and hair spiked up. He stopped in his tracks. Kirishima, the guy he met in the treatment room several days ago, was the last person he expected to see. Or wanted to see for that matter. From their brief conversation, it seemed as though the redhead was the friendly type, bubbly and all that came with it and Katsuki wanted to avoid him as best he could. Friends were useless when you're dying, especially when you're both dying.

"Oh hey," Kirishima said and turned around to smile at Katsuki with his eyes. He was going to leave, he wanted to leave before he was noticed, but he got lost in thought and ended up lingering longer than he should have.

He cursed himself out in his head. "Yeah, hi."

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

There was a brief sadness that flashed behind his eyes, however, it was barely visible due to the lack of light. "Nightmares. Not sleeping helps me avoid nightmares."

"Not sleeping will make you sick, idiot."

"I'm already sick."

"More sick."

"Yeah well, the piano helps relax me. And I don't wanna get rusty, either. You know?"

Katsuki gave a small shrug, careful to not mess up the positioning of the bag while doing so. "I don't know. I do photography, which can be done anywhere now."

A silence settled over them. Kirishima looked as though he had fallen into thought; the smile in his eyes had left and was replaced with a more concentrated look. Standing there, Katsuki could see that small fire he saw last time behind the redhead's eyes.

"Wanna play?" he asked, the joyful and carefree look returning.

"I don't know how," Katsuki said in a stern tone, his brows knitting together into a furrow.

"I figured. I can teach you."

"I'd rather not, Shitty Hair."

"You can't confine your life to one thing, you know? Photography is great and all but if you aren't the model you aren't the one expressing yourself and in a place like this with the things we have the only way to really stay afloat is to express yourself and to get all that built up bullshit out."

"They have therapists for that."

"It's not the same. Putting how you feel into words can be harder than doing it through music or art."

Kirishima was persuasive oddly enough, a trait that surprised Katsuki. He didn't take Kirishima as someone to be able to convince someone to do anything. But he was right, to an extent. There was a lot Katsuki could say to challenge Kirishima, however, he didn't have the energy to go into a debate with him, especially since the argument would be about something stupid and simple.

"I'll try," Katsuki gave in. He could see Kirishima's face light up like a switch had been flipped inside his brain. The redhead gently patted the bench after scooting over; there wasn't much room left and when Katsuki sat down there was hardly any space between them, which worried Katsuki because he knew that Kirishima needed to stay healthy and being that close to someone who coughed all the time seemed like a bad idea to him. But Kirishima had latex gloves on his hands and a mask covering his mouth. It would have covered his nose too but a clear tube, a cannula, occupied the space.

Both were silent as Kirishima placed his hands on the keys, playing a few chords slowly before he began to tell the blonde about the keys and the sounds they can make. "The keys are not the notes," he had said and then went on to the explain what he meant by that. Though it was rather confusing at first, Katsuki managed to follow along.

"When will I get to actually play?" Katsuki asked after some time of listening to the other boy blabber.

"Well, eventually. I thought I would just explain first..." he trailed off. "You can try this," he said and played a few chords that only required one hand. He played it several times in a row so Katsuki could learn and process it. After he finished, Kirishima placed one of Katsuki's hands on the same keys he had just played, ran through their names again and the order they were to be played in.

Katsuki pressed the keys, hesitant at first, before trying to move his fingers in a more fluid motion, failing for the sound that left the piano was choppy. He tried several more times, growing more and more frustrated as he struggled to create a fluid sound like Kirishima had, who was laughing right next to Katsuki not because he wasn't doing well but because his facial expressions were priceless. Kirishima made sure to fix Katsuki's posture and occasionally had to tell him to relax. He even moved off the bench so Katsuki could sit in the middle thinking it would be easier for him.

It wasn't.

"Jesus fuck," Katsuki grumbled in anger and slammed his hands, now curled into tight fists, onto the keys. An awful sound left the piano and caused Kirishima to cringe.

"It takes practice and patience Katsuki. I didn't come out playing the piano... it's taken a lot of years. And hell, I'm not even that good."

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Shut up, you're pretty fucking good." Was he being modest? Someone with talent should recognize it.

Kirishima shrugged. "I should probably get back to my room. We can maybe meet tomorrow night or something to continue this lesson. Only if you want-"

"Sure," Katsuki cut him off.

Both boys stood from the bench and made their way down the same hall Katsuki appeared from. At first, Katsuki thought Kirishima was following him but he remembered seeing the redhead peeking out of his room, he had been watching Katsuki when he was on his way back to his own room. They were on the same floor and most likely shared the same hallway. Great... he couldn't seem to shake Shitty Hair but their new scheduled meetings at night were now his fault because he agreed to take piano lessons like a dumbass.

He definitely dug his own grave.

They parted ways at Kirishima's room. Before making his way down to his room, he peered into the room and saw how most the walls were covered in posters of bands, TV shows, and even musicians. A blanket that wasn't the one the hospital provided, a plain white blanket made out of an itchy material, was spread out on the bed. It was a dark green and camouflage; it looked thick and soft and that made Katsuki want to go touch it. He refrained himself from doing so.

Compared to Kirishima's room, his own room was boring and bare. No posters were on the wall, not that he had any, but there was a box of photos he had taken sitting in the corner of the room that he could easily put on the wall but he never got around to it. There was a blanket he wanted to bring with him, it was space inspired with a black hole near the bottom corner but ended up not bringing it because he thought it was too childish as he got older and became thankful that he didn't.

Kirishima was the one to say goodnight, shutting the door seconds after. Katsuki stared at the door for a while after that, up until the lights were turned off. That was his sign to stop being a creepy bastard and to head back to his room because he too needed sleep. Before tomorrow's next treatment session... where he would most likely see Kirishima again.

A heavy sigh left Katsuki's lips. There was no escape from the redhead.

-

The following morning Katsuki found himself wandering down to the cafeteria after getting the bag pumping him full of drugs refilled and his vitals checked. He had no intention of sitting down because the chairs were almost as uncomfortable as his bed and that said something; those beds were a killer on the back.

Down the hallway, not the right hallway where Katsuki emerged from the night before, and tucked behind the lobby was the cafeteria. With it being rather early in the morning it was hardly full and those who filled it were either doctors trying to get a quick bite in before they had to make their rounds or the unlucky patients who had treatment. Katsuki was one of the unlucky few who had to be up at the ass crack of dawn for his treatment. Staying up after he parted ways with Shitty Hair was a terrible mistake, he should have hit the sack the second he got as comfortable as he could in his bed. Should have, would have, could have.

While looking around at the few breakfast options the hospital had laid out for that morning, Katsuki spotted the redhead a few people ahead of him in line, a mask on his face and gloves covering his hands like always, but with even with the mask Katsuki would see the smile on his face as he chatted up one of the women serving everybody. He watched as Kirishima paid with a red card and lingered long enough to spot Katsuki and sent him a small wink before leaving the cafeteria. Katsuki didn't know how to feel about that... he wasn't sure if the fast beating of his heart was his arrhythmia or another underlying cause he was unaware of...

He really hoped it was his arrhythmia.

Katsuki ate his blueberry yogurt and small muffin in his room alone; normally he'd have the company of a nurse or his mom on the rare occasions she showed up but for the first time in a while, he was left with his thoughts. The loneliness that set in bothered him more than he would have liked but being alone wasn't all that bad. Being alone was different than feeling alone, he concluded.

Manaka came into the room to take Katsuki to the treatment room before he even finished his breakfast, not that there was a lot for him to eat but somehow he kept getting discarded by the stupid thoughts he had in his mind and hardly touched his food as a result. She smiled that annoying smile of hers and helped Katsuki up from his bed even after the countless time he basically told her to go fuck herself. Persistence, it annoyed him even more. However, she didn't grab his forearm like she had done every day before that and instead let him walk down the hall on his own. Finally, she had started to catch on and that made Katsuki feel a little more free as well as independent. He was almost tempted to thank her. Almost. Almost. What held him back?

Inside the treatment room, there was a silence Katsuki hadn't ever witnessed mainly because nearly all of his treatments had been later in the day up until that point. The TV was on but the volume was barely audible, and some people sat with their eyes closed and their heads tilted back. Asleep.

He sat down, let Manaka take his vitals and put the IV into his free arm, and waited for someone to come back into the room with his drugs. Luckily he brought his phone this time around so boredom wouldn't be his friend. He scrolled through his social media and scoffed when he saw a picture Deku, an old friend that used to visit him regularly, had posted with that half-and-half bastard several days ago. There was no caption but from the looks of it, it seemed like they were at a library studying or something. Deku's freckled cheeks were tinted with a light pink and there was disgusting look in Half-and-Half's eyes. That was enough for Katsuki to click away from the picture.

In his recommended, a profile with Kirishima has the picture popped up. Katsuki's finger hovered over it, hesitant and curious. He clicked it and was brought to a page with a huge follower count; over one hundred thousand. Kirishima's bio was simple and read "Still going strong" with a stupid emoji arm flexing its biceps afterwards. It would be an understatement to say Katsuki looked through a few pictures, he more or less stalked Shitty Hair, and found that he inspired a lot of people who came across his page. His most recent post was just after he moved into the hospital and was a video of him playing the piano down in the lobby. "Couldn't bring my keyboard, but hey, this place has a piano!" Katsuki followed him and then unfollowed and then followed him again before tossing his phone into the empty chair next to him. Maybe he should just delete his account.

"Hey man!" Speak of the devil. Kirishima stood in front of Katsuki, his eyes bright and full of life somehow. "Early morning for you too?" The redhead sat down, leaving a chair between them.

"Mhm." Katsuki nodded.

Quiet. Awkward. From the corner of his eye, Katsuki watched as Kirishima pulled out his phone. Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn't have followed him. Hell, he shouldn't have liked his posts either. He shouldn't have gotten curious and nosy.

"Hey man, is this your page?" Kirishima turned the phone, which displayed the blonde's page, towards him with raised brows. He looked over the page littered in photos he had taken throughout his time at the hospital before giving a small nod. "I knew you were into photography but I didn't think you were this good. They're all so pretty and pro looking."

"Right... thanks," Katsuki mumbled. His phone lit up from beside him with the notification saying that Kirishima had followed him. Fuck.

"Yeah dude," Kirishima said. "Wanna take a selfie? I haven't posted to my story for a while."

"No.

"Why not?"

"Because-"

Shitty Hair had already done it. He was giggling as he typed something up, tagging Katsuki so he'd be one of the first people to see it and so his followers could go check him out too. Katsuki grabbed his phone and looked at the story, his brows furrowing. "Getting treatment with my new buddy. He's rad." His page was tagged after that. And it wasn't but moments later when his phone started to buzz violently with new follows, likes, and comments.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"You deserve more attention dude."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes and scoff. "Whatever, Shitty Hair."

Their doctors came in and got them set up with their drugs, Kirishima's telling him to remember to at least sleep and all sorts of shit like that so he wouldn't get sick. Katsuki could tell he wanted to retort in a way that would be out of character, and perhaps Katsuki wanted to see that too but Kirishima gave a simple nod and sighed once the doctor as gone.

They sat in each other's presence after that, both on their phones doing whatever they could to keep themselves entertained. Katsuki had zoned out, his thumb mindlessly moving in a zombie-like state. He missed his mom and their walks around the courtyard and their constant arguing. And he missed his dad to an extent as well. He was such a calm man and he never raised his voice even when his wife and son were going at it so the only way they'd be able to hear him would be by yelling. Timid, that was a good word to describe him.

He even missed going to school every day. Yelling at Deku had become part of his morning, same with cussing out Half-and-Half. He didn't miss the homework or the tests, the learning itself was alright because he didn't ever struggle like some of his classmates. He missed taking raw pictures of the teachers and he missed photography class because more times than not he was granted permission to walk around campus to take pictures. Sometimes he'd wander off campus, too lost in his work to even notice that he was outside the chain link fence that acted as a barrier between the campus and everything else.

He missed not worrying about his health.

"Hey," Kirishima spoke, "Do you believe in wishes?"

"Wishes?" Katsuki stopped scrolling.

"Like, wishes coming true? Hope? Stuff like that"

"Not really. Why?"

"Well, it's said that if you make one thousand paper cranes and you make a wish, it'll come true."

"Oh?" Katsuki hadn't heard of that before. As a kid, he remembered blowing out his birthday candles and wishing for stupid things. And he remembered throwing coins into the fountains at malls in hopes of his wishes coming true. There were times when he tried to wish his illnesses away and look how well that turned out.

"What would you wish for?"

"Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't. But what would you wish for?"

What would he wish for? Wishing to get better was cliche and as a kid, that's what he would wish for, but there are bigger and better things. "I'd like to see the stars, you know, one last time before I kick the bucket."

"You can see the stars here though."

"Yeah, but the light from the city fuckin' ruins the view." He sighed. "What about you?"

"I wanna play the piano in front of a huge crowd, just once. And of course, I'd like to get better."

"Of course... me too, I guess."

"Should we, maybe, try to make the cranes? Just for the hell of it? Even if they don't do anything, just for the idea of hope, ya know?

"It's false hope, Shitty Hair."

"Yeah, but hope is hope and if false hope helps me keep going then I'll gladly accept it."

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After treatment, Kirishima went on the hunt for construction paper to make his paper cranes out of but his efforts were fruitless when a nurse told him they didn't have anywhere. None. Not anywhere in the entirety of the stupid hospital. He texted Kaminari sometime in the afternoon, asking him if he'd been able to bring a shit ton of construction paper and of his friend said yes, obviously. Why did he even ask? He could have just told Kaminari to bring the paper. Shortly after he got a text from Mina on Kamainari's phone saying that she was bringing hair dye so they could fix up his hair. They still hadn't gotten the okay on that yet but she didn't care, if they had to they'd do it outside in the courtyard.

I really don't deserve them... he thought to himself collapsed onto the bed.

His nurse came in long enough to switch out his oxygen tank with one that was full and then left again. Part of him was expecting his doctor to come with good news, maybe they found him a pair of lungs, but he never showed and Kirishima wasn't too sure when he was going to see him again. That morning when he reminded the redhead of his health and the risks, there was an odd sort of tension between them because Kirishima was going to say something, something like "fuck you and this stupid illness". Perhaps speaking his mind would have left them with a feeling that wasn't tension... It was times like those that really annoyed him; he was doing his best to be as normal as possible but constantly being reminded that he needed to stay healthy in order to live, in order to be able to get some new lungs, was a buzzkill. Esccapilly with the strange urges I've been feeling. It's shitty enough that he has to walk around with tubes up his nose, something that just screamed: "LOOK AT ME, I'M SICK".

Kirishima tired... he tried so hard to be damn hard to be positive and strong, not just for the people around him but for himself too. But it's so hard, so hard and energy depleting to try to be happy all the time. He could die at any time, he could stop breathing and maybe they could save him but what good would that do? He'd be right back to where he was; struggling to breathe, gasping for each breath.

Was it worth it? Because in the end, what if all the fighting goes to waste and he doesn't get his lungs? He gets sick once and then it's all over. No lungs. No second chances. Not until he got better, but who knows how long that would take? Or if he would ever get better?

Each passing minute was a struggle for him, taking in air and exhaling seemed more like a chore to him. Breathing was a chore. Trying to stay alive was a chore.

Sometimes he wished he could fall asleep and

n e v e r

w a k e

u p.

If only it were that easy.

Inhale, exhale, he had to tell himself.

The day went on; people coming in to help him do his chest physical therapy. A vest was strapped onto Kirishima and began to vibrate. He didn't know how that loosened everything up and he never cared to ask. Afterwards, he was given a pillow to hold against his chest before being instructed to cough. A very small amount of mucus came out, not nearly enough for the doctor's liking and because of that, he was debating on coming back later that day. Kirishima wasn't pleased with that because his friends were supposed to be coming and he didn't want them to see him going through his bullshit treatment. So he coughed more, just enough to get a little more mucus out. There was that stupid ache in his chest after all that but he'd have to deal with it.

-

Mina showed up with all the things needed to dye Kirishima's hair: a purple bowl, the dye itself, vaseline, and the brush. She swiped some gloves from the counter in the room, a grin pulling at her face. Kaminari had a large stack of paper in an array of colours as well as some food he bought for lunch.

"Did you even confirm if you can dye my hair or not?" Kirishima asked Mina.

She smiled at Kirishima, running a hand through her puffy pink hair. She was something else, a good something else. She kept her hair pink and wore all black contacts with a sort of confidence Kirishima would never be able to pull off. There were many times where he tried to convince Kirishima to spice things up with a different colour, blue, green, rainbow, anything that wasn't red. But red was enough for him.

"Obviously not. It's not like it's gonna stain everything, Kiri. It'll barely stain the shower for christ sake." She threw her arms up in the air. "What're they gonna do, kick you out?"

"They'll kick you out, actually. And maybe not allow you to visit."

"Yeah yeah. We'll be fine. Like I said, we may have to do it outside but it's warm out so we'll be fine. It's just your roots anyway."

He rolled his eyes at her, a sign that he had given in. Mina clapped her hands and popped open the dye, pouring it into the bowl and began to stir it with the brush. Pulling on the gloves, she rubbed some vaseline around Kirishima's hairline so any dye that got onto his skin wouldn't stain him, not that any dye should get on his face since only his roots were being done but it was Mina and she was rather messy.

As Mina painted her friends head, Kaminari and Kirishima looked online at videos on how to make paper cranes. It didn't seem all that complicated, time consuming maybe but not too hard. Or so they thought. They began to fold the paper the way they were showed, but the cranes weren't looking right at all. It took several failed attempts before Kirishima was able to get one that looked somewhat like the cranes that had inspired them. Kirishima tossed the crane onto the counter, the first of many more to be made. One down, nine hundred ninety-nine to go.

Dr. Saito came into the room just as Mina was finishing Kirishima's hair. A look of question crossed his face at the sight before him: two teenage boys violently trying to fold paper, one of their heads shiny from an unknown substance with a girl painting his head like a canvas.

"Bad time?" he asked.

"Not at all," Kaminari said casually.

"Hope it's okay that I'm colouring his hair," Mina said and pulled off the gloves that were covered in red.

"I'll let you slide this time. You better hope he doesn't get sick." The doctor let out a rough laugh. "How're you feeling Kirishima?"

"The same. A little tired but that's nothing I can't handle."

"Good."

"Any word on a set of lungs?"

"Kirishima, we've been over this-"

"You'll tell me as soon as you know anything, I know. But it's not your life that's hanging in the balance, dude. Excuse me for being a little eager."

The older man gave a small smile coated in a distant sadness. "Right, of course." He rubbed the back of next. He didn't know how to respond, he wasn't used to Kirishima speaking like that for he was always cheerful. Perhaps there was something underneath Dr. Saito had been missing. Depression maybe, it's not uncommon in those who are chronically ill. "No, not yet."

"Okay..."

There the conversation ended and Dr. Saito walked out without looking back.

"You okay dude?" Kaminari asked.

"Cabin fever... It's been a while since I've been out of a hospital."

"Maybe we can go on a walk today?" Mina suggested.

"Yeah... maybe."

The walk never happened. After Mina rinsed Kirishima's head in the sink, she and Kaminari bolted because they needed to study or do homework or whatever, Kirishima wasn't too sure. He was bummed that they didn't go outside, but that was probably a good thing because above them hung heavy grey clouds that roared every so often. The wind whistled, causing trees to dance and from where he sat, Kirishima could see hats being blown off people's heads.

As he listened to the wind howl and the sky rumble, he worked on the paper cranes and kept track of how many he had down on an extra piece of paper he asked a nurse to give him when she came in to check on him. Fifty-six were done, sitting on the corner of the counter in a messy pile. His fingers worked and as they were worked he was getting better and better at making the shape of the crane he saw in the video tutorial. He was more than a little proud of his handiwork.

The rain came pouring down when Kirishima's doctor came back into his room. An unopened box was between his hands and that peaked Kirishima's interest. Dr. Saito's lips pulled upwards into a small grin, one that was barely visible but you could see it if you looked at the wrinkles under his eyes. They only appeared when he cracked a grin, no matter how small.

"What's in the box?" he asked, tossing another crane onto the counter before writing down on the paper. Fifty-seven complete.

Without a warning, Dr. Saito tossed the box to Kirishima and with luck, he managed to catch it. "See for yourself." His eyes panned to the crane-covered counter. "What's with the origami?"

"I saw something online that involved them, nothing important." Kirishima tore off the tape and lifted the lid of the box only to be met with a layer of paper people put in bags to hide what was inside. Underneath the paper was a plastic bag with a black object inside. Carefully, he pulled it out and felt the material. Smooth. It almost looked like a hospital mask once it was unfolded but something set it apart from the rest. There was a circle with slits on the side. "I don't know what this is."

"A mask that filters the air. Less chance of getting sick and all that. It's better than having to keep changing out the masks."

"Thanks, man."

"No problem." The older man sat in one of the chairs and eyed his patient. "The nurses say you've made a friend."

"You mean Katsuki?

"Right. I've heard about him, aggressive kid. Yells at his nurses."

"Because he wants to be independent. Or he's tired of being here, tired of being sick," Kirishima mumbled with a shrug and slipped on his new mask to test it out. Normally he'd leave his nose uncovered because of the tubes in his nose but after further investigation, he found that there was a space they went into it.

"Maybe so. I also heard you two were together last night down in the lobby. You know you need your-"

"I need my rest. I know, I do. But I needed to do that. It felt nice to be able to play and it was nice to get everything out."

"Get everything out? Kirishima, are you feeling-"

"No." He already knew what Dr. Saito was going to ask and there was no he was going to listen. The answer was no and it would always be no. "Just no."

"Right. Sorry." Dr. Saito gave a small nod as an apology and moved from the chair to the door.

"Thanks for the mask, man," Kirishima managed to say just before his doctor left the room. He turned back, flashed the redhead a small smile, and disappeared down the hallway. The door, Dr. Saito forgot to shut the door. Oh well.

Kirishima took the mask off and looked it over, taking the time to run his fingers along the material and the circle which was actually a filter. It would make life a little easier, a little less hazardous, a little more free. Deep down he was angry at himself for not being more appreciative towards his doctor but he knew what his doctor was going to ask, "are you feeling alright?" and by that he would mean mentally.

He wasn't sure if he was alright. Therapy had been helping him and because he was starting to feel better he stopped going as often he was which was two to three times a week and only started going once every two weeks. He didn't enjoy relying on someone else to help him feel better, hell he hated the fact that he had to be on pills, which made him feel numb, just to be able to function a little better. Dr. Saito didn't need to know any of this and he wouldn't because of the laws for therapy. Kirishima's therapist can't communicate with anyone about their sessions unless given permission and no way would he give permission. But if Dr. Saito knew that Kirishima wasn't going as often anymore, or hardly at all, he'd get in trouble. Not that getting in trouble meant much but he didn't want to make his doctor mad, not after all he's done for him.

The idea of the monster showing up again scared him...

Maybe he'd start going a couple of times every week again, or maybe he wouldn't. Voicing everything was so... tiring. After his therapy sessions, he'd take a nap because of how draining it was. Which would he prefer: feeling drained and numb or feeling a type of pain that he can't pinpoint?

For the longest time after he was left alone, he listened to the rain pelting the window with his eyes glued to the ceiling. A beat could be made from the way the thunder, rain, and winds worked together. It was almost inspiring in a way, the rain, the way it could go from a small sprinkle to a full-on storm that was capable of knocking trees over. Life. It reminded him of life. So calm and then a shitshow. Over and over. The end? A rainbow. What kind of end was a different story. Sad? Happy? A mix of both?

Calming... so calming no matter how violent it was. Kirishima couldn't help but shut his eyes, inevitably leading him into a darkness that swept him away and made his body feel heavy.

He dreamt about the rain and about being a raindrop falling from the sky but just before he hit the ground he'd became a new drop. But then that didn't happen and he could see the ground inching closer to him and right before he smacked into what was below it changed into... space. A dark space. And there was no air. Breathing felt impossible and deep down underneath his bones, his lungs began to burn at the lack of oxygen. Panic swarmed him, tears burned the corner of his eyes, and surrounding him was the people in his life. Dr. Saiko, Kaminari, Mina, and Katsuki. All of them were fine... their chests rising slowly as they practically bragged about how they could breathe. Why weren't they helping him?

Why why why why why?

Why?

Why?

In the distance, a voice could be heard and he involuntarily began to move towards it... he tried to yell, to shout, but all that came out were painful gasps. The voice grew louder as the distance between them started to shrink. It was muffled, the voice, unrecognisable but it sounded masculine and a little familiar even

Louder and louder it grew until it sounded as if it was yelling right in Kirishima's ear and just as he managed to drink in the air...

...his eyes flew open.

.

.

.

His eyes were wide and sweat soaked through his clothes, his breathing heavy as he tried to come back from the nightmare. So close, the tears were so close to spilling over his eyes. His vision was blurred from the tears and he couldn't seem to blink them away no matter how hard he tried. The voice from his dream was stilling calling out to him causing him to panic because he wondered if he was having a nightmare within a nightmare. But the gentle touch on his shoulder changed that thought immediately. After rubbing away the built-up water in his eyes, he blinked, let his vision focus on the figure in front of him, and smiled the second he saw the red eyes belonging to the boy with the ash-blonde hair: Katsuki.

"The fuck was that all about?" he asked, Kirishima's smile throwing him off.

"What was what all about?"

"You were breathing and shaking and it kinda looked like you pissed yourself. It's sweat so don't worry." Katsuki retracted his hand from the redhead's shoulder. "Must've been a pretty shit nightmare huh?"

"Yeah... I can't even remember it," Kirishima mumbled whilst sitting up. He reached for the black mask and pulled it onto his face, inhaling deeply. All the heavy breathing from earlier left a sharp pain his chest. "What time is it?"

"I dunno. The sun went down so it's evening."

"I slept for a while then..."

"Yeah, I guess so. Fancy mask."

"It filters-"

"It filters the air, I know." Katsuki leaned back on the chair Kirishima just noticed he was sitting in. "So, you started working on the cranes huh?"

"Oh," Kirishima started as he rubbed the back of his neck, "yeah. It's a nice time killer. If you wanna try I can have my friend bring more paper. Maybe we can help each other?"

"Fucking lame. We should make it a contest. Whoever gets to one-thousand first wins."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Good point... what's the prize?"

"Bragging rights. You have the advantage since you've already started."

"I won't do any more until you have the paper, okay?" Kirishima stretched out his arm, signally that he wanted him and Katsuki to shake on it. Of course, his hand was gloved, but once Katsuki gripped his hand and gave it shake, he began to wish that the thin blue latex between them wasn't there.

"Why're you here?" Kirishima finally asked, raising a brow.

"The piano. I came to get you so you can play. You still want to?"

He remembered. Kirishima blushed slightly and thank God Katsuki couldn't see. The heat in his cheeks quickly vanished when he remembered that Dr. Saito said he needed his rest and that going down to play basically wasn't the best idea. He enjoyed it so much though, and he really wanted to help Katsuki learn because it seemed like he was really interested in it.

One more night wouldn't kill him. Or maybe it would. Who knows.

"Yeah, yeah, we definitely can." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, his legs feeling a little weak but that was probably because he had been laying down for so long. With the handle of his oxygen tank in hand, he motioned for Katsuki that they could leave.

The walk down the corridor to the elevator took longer than it should have for both boys would have to stop due to their rough coughing and sometimes lack of breath. But they made it, eventually. Kirishima and Katsuki rested most of their weight on the walls of the elevator as a way to reset and relax; their time was short but it was enough to help them make their way down another hallway yet again and at the end, near the centre of the lobby, the piano waited for them.

"So, let's do a warm-up," Kirishima said as he sat down on the wooden bench. He placed his hands on the keys, something that felt like second nature to him and admired the keys like always.

Together they did the warm up to break in the keys and loosen their fingers. Katsuki messed up more than once and lost his shit almost every time because he was trying so hard to sound decent, too hard. Kirishima couldn't help but laugh a hardy laugh that sent him into a coughing fit more times than not and left his chest aching while he gasped for air. It was still nice, despite all the pain and coughing and inability to breathe most the time, the way the moonlight burst through the windows and lit up part of the piano, as well as Katsuki's face. It was captivating. That was photo worthy but he doubted his ability to capture the photo in the same way the blonde would.

After their warm-up, they moved onto the same song they had tried to play the night before. However, this time around they managed to make some progress. Katsuki was able to let all the tension leave his body and let the music just sort of, take him away. As choppy and shitty as it sounded Kirishima couldn't help watch in a way that made him out to be a creep. From there they worked on his fluidity so when he played everything wouldn't sound choppy. That would take a while.

Abruptly, Katsuki stopped the movement of his hand and shifted his body so he faced Kirishima, something almost daring in his eyes. He didn't speak for the longest time, just started and the way he was turned caused the light to illuminate his face in an even more shocking way. He was blushing again, his heart doing weird flips in his chest. Thankfully, the silence wasn't awkward but it was comfortable either. Stable? Or maybe it was just there?

"Can I hear you play?" he finally asked after they both basked in that strange feeling silence.

"Dude, you've heard me play."

"But never like a legit song, without me trailing behind or whatever. I heard you last night before you noticed I was there, but barely. Just... don't argue, just fucking play."

Kirishima blinked, coughed into his mask roughly several times, and rubbed the back of neck bashfully. It was soon, way too soon. Some notice would have been nice, like a month's notice maybe. The only people Kirishima ever played in front of were his parents and his friends. None of them really demanded that he played, not outright at least. They'd beat around the bush until he caught on and gave in.

Crap. All the crap. Every crap that there ever was. Crap.

"Oh... well." He pursed his lips together in thought. He didn't even know what to play for there were only two or so songs that he was even remotely decent at, and both of them were girly. Or that's what Kaminari said, Mina liked the songs... okay so maybe they weren't the manliest songs out there but he liked them enough to learn them. "The song is... a little... feminine?"

"Whatever. I don't give two shits, Shitty Hair. Just play. You're stalling."

He was. But he couldn't help it. He was nervous, to say the least. Very fucking nervous.

Katsuki scooted off the bench and looked down at Kirishima with crossed arms, a hard gaze set on his face. That didn't help, not at all. He was going to fuck up more than once. And then what?

And then what?

The redhead popped his fingers to buy himself a little more before setting them down on the keys, shutting his eyes so he could visualize all the keys and notes and chords in the head of the song he decided on.

He pressed the first set of notes before he began to sing. Yes, sing.

" Sweetheart, you look a little tired, when did you last eat? Come in and make yourself right at home, stay as long as you need. Tell me, is something wrong? If something's wrong you can count on me..." a quick pause, long enough to let his lungs take a break. "You know I'll take my heart clean apart If it helps yours beat. "

His voice was raspy and breathy as he sang, an ache in his chest at the effort it was taking to voice everything. It had been a while since he last sang more than a few verses let alone a whole song. He kind of liked the ache though...

"It's okay if you can't catch your breath, you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest," that part came out in a whisper, quiet and barely audible and he didn't notice until after he sang it. There was no way he was tired enough to such a thing, so what then?

Kirishima could see Katsuki from his peripheral vision still standing there with his arms over his chest but his face had relaxed a great deal since he started playing. He closed his eyes again, having only opened them long enough to see the boy watching over him.

"I just want to build you up, build you up, 'til you're good as new. And maybe one day, I'll get around to fixing myself, too."

There was a reason the song had hit a chord with him when he first it several years prior. Those few words. He had been working to make everyone happy, to make sure they were okay without worrying about himself. The number of times he got sick from running himself down to the ground trying to fix his friends after breakups or fights was ludacris.

Soon the song was over, voicing out the last words and pressing the last keys. A good end to a good song. He felt proud at how decent it sounded, or at least he hoped it sounded decent. Kirishima loved the song so he wanted to do it justice to the best of his ability and he wanted Katsuki to like his playing of course. He wanted Katsuki to like his playing? Why?

Kirishima didn't turn to look at Katsuki for a strange silence had fallen over them and he feared that making eye contact—or even turning his head enough to look at him—would make the silence uncomfortable and awkward. He fidgeted in his spot, adjusted his mask some, and wiggled his fingers around in the blue latex gloves to give himself something, anything, to do. Did the silence mean Katsuki was so damn appalled that he had no words or was his play good enough to leave him speechless? Kirishima almost laughed out loud at the thought. He wasn't a betting man but he'd bet on it being the first option if he were.

"Wow," Katsuki breathed out. "And you say you aren't fucking good." Kirishima could sense him rolling his eyes.

Underneath his mask, Kirishima was smiling. "I can teach you it if you'd like," he offered.

"Maybe. What else do you know, in terms of songs?"

"Only one other I think... It's kinda girly too. I'd play it tonight but... I'm tired. Maybe tomorrow? Or in a few days?" Kirishima asked, finally turning to see Katsuki. His face had softened to something between a glare and a normal resting face.

"In a few days... I think we're both lacking rest."

"Maybe we could still hang out or whatever? Like, I don't know, walks around the courtyard or maybe we can get permission to leave?" Kirishima was rambling at that point, voicing whatever came to mind without even thinking it over. "Or we can just hang out in your room or my room..."

"We'll figure it out tomorrow, you've got treatment early in the morning?"

"Yeah... I do."

"Good."

And then Katsuki walked away, leaving Kirishima with red tinted cheeks and a heart close to exploding.

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Word Count: 8101
April 30, 2019

MHMMmMmmmm this is late but these chapters take forever to edit lmao. so like, hope you enjoyed and stuff. lemme know if there's mistakes because there probably are and I don't wanna leave them

-StarsNeverLanding