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His windpipe is thanking him profusely, his esophagus no longer burns, his lungs don't feel like falling off their stems either. Bakugou's free. Freedom is so great it slithers down his throat in the form of air, unobscured by the intrusive forces that gathered there. He watches the doctor with a mesmerized glint in his eyes, he's not even thinking through the words of the medical man. Bakugou's too busy in his daze of thoughts.

'So, I'm not going to fucking die, right?'

A moment passes, the air drops to a zero, then it rises again as the doctor says, with a smile, 'Yes. You're not going to die. Happy to help.'

The awkward sentence means the world to Bakugou, but then again... his life feels so damn dull. And he can't remember why. His head tries to roll back to that thought, and he blinks. In wonder, hoping to find what was missing. It's not that he's grieving, he can't grieve for the fleeting information, but if he could. He would. It's just not enough for sorrow to befall his mood. In fact, he's ecstatic. Just wait till he tells goddamn raccoon eyes! And shitty hair, tape face, Pikachu, ear jacks and... and... um. And...

And... his head flashes to memories, all blocked out by something. A foggy lock, no longer obscuring his lungs but misting his head up. It's painful. He knows somebody was there, behind him.. no in front of him. Was he racing them? Race? No, no! They're not in front! It's the lighting, their shadow is in front! He's running after somebody that's not there, he's sprinting after their unrelenting shadow, chasing somebody that's behind him in a futile goose chase! It's them behind him and—no, that's not a shadow? Wait.. yes it is! But he's sprinting beside him now, and no amount of running that churns his legs speeds him up. They still surpass him.

'Fuck!' His head feels like it's been shot, his lungs take in breaths more shallow than a kiddie pool, and he eyes the doctor for an answer. The doctor looks dismayed then.

'Don't think too much, it's... your surgery,' they bite down on their lip, considering their answer, then, 'you contracted Hanhaki. It's a lot to take in, I know but...'

Their words are already blurring away. Bakugou had hanhaki, Bakugou fell for a boy that surpassed him, for the bearer of the shadow he had tried to catch to no avail. He's going to to throw up. Maybe it was a girl. But something tells him it's not. It's not that. It's not that. His heart is a flickering lantern, its fuel is running out. Bakugou feels like he'll hunch over with a sudden unexplainable cardiac arrest. If he does, he hopes they label it an unreasonable heart break.

Because he lost something. He lost something he'll never ever be able to bring back, no matter how far he reaches in his head for it. That warmth, the missing piece, the finishing one. The one that'll light up every thing in his world, the source of his city's energy. The city being his goddamn brain and heart, despite how he knows it'll never connect. Not without him. The very oil source to the lantern he so desperately needed to be lit up, and he flung it away. To never be found. To send him out now must be a form of cruelty so bad it's illegal!

What was old him thinking? WHAT WAS OLD HIM THINKING?!






Fuck.



Why was he even so mad in the first place.



It's going away.










The shadow's not casted against the wall.







'Remember, remember,' he mutters to himself.




'Please! Remember! Shadow... remember... surpassed.... remember... all might? All might! All Might!'







He screams All Might hysterically like it'll help.







So much he can't remember why he's screaming it in the first place. His words abate in confidence, '...All Might? Why am I... repeating his name? Was I on a hero mission?'

'No but you're still a little woozy from the surgery,' the doctor says, looking somewhat crestfallen. Panic rises in the blonde's chest, then the doctor nods. Retracting himself from the conversation before it starts, turning to the door and, 'I'll be back, OK?'

'OK.' Bakugou takes time to recollect his scattered thoughts, but he doesn't get much. 'Kacchan?'

'Wonder what that means?'

'No, I just wonder why it's there in the... wait, what're we talking about?'

'Nothing, nothing at all.'

☆彡

The doctor meets the nurses outside the room, eying him. He sighs, deflating, 'He's done it again. He can't even engage in coherent conversations.'

'For the seventh time?'

'Yes, for the seventh time,' he emphasizes.

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