💚🧡Bakudeku & Kirikami One Shots❤️💛

On The Edge

❤💛

Yeeeaaaahhhh I've contemplated... and no...

AU:
Normal
Warnings:
TRIGGER WARNING
⚠Suicide Attempt⚠

Please be careful guys

[No one's POV]

He should've noticed something was wrong with Denki.

He'd seen the lack of food he ate, always over half-full as it slides into the bin at dinner.

He'd seen the lack of attention he payed to in class, always staring elsewhere as he fiddles with the bandages wrapped around his forearms.

He'd seen that off look in his dull eyes, the once pure, golden colour decaying into something more melancholy. 

He'd seen the sullen look in his eyes, his face marred with fatigue and lack of motivation.

Yet each point flew right over his head, leaving him at a cold slap of shock as he saw the blonde boy swaying on the rooftop, his bony fingertips tucking those flying wisps of hair behind his ear, tired eyes fixated on the drop, tears numbly falling from them.

He screams; shouts; anything to get through to that boy whom he'd loved so much!

"DENKI!"

The blonde merely turns his head, feet and body still pointing towards the way in which he wanted to go:

Freedom.

He wanted to fall and keep falling and fall with the wind rushing past his face until the world goes black. He couldn't wait until the end... he needed this.

"GET BACK FROM THE EDGE! P-p-PLEASE!"

Still, he couldn't bring himself to move. He... he didn't want to move. He wanted to do it. To jump. Leave everything behind and start over. Start over with a life free of his past burdens and worries and feelings and that horrible, decaying pain in his chest that made everything monochrome.

Meaningless.

Pointless.

Eijiro's eyes narrow in on Denki as he takes a half step towards the brink of life and death and, in hardly a split second, he reacts. Tears still blurred his vision, but he managed to grip onto Denki's shoulders, his nails digging into the scarce flesh there, and drag him away from the edge, flinching ever so slightly as the blonde began to thrash.

"No!" he whispered, writhing to get out of that vice-like grip that barricaded him from the sweet release a few feet in front of him.

There was no liveliness in his voice. Void of life. Filled with exhaustion; acceptance of defeat.

He grapples for the fall that he so desperately needed, craving the release that choruses from the dark part of his mind; yearned from the crest of his heart. He wanted to jump - he needed to jump.

Eventually, an impulse took over him, and Denki shoves Eijiro backwards, not even a wince passing through his eyes when the younger boy toppled to the gravelly surface of the roof, the jagged shards of rock scraping at his elbows.

"I'm sorry, Kirishima."

The whisper could've been distinguished by a breeze, so quiet and delicate that it nearly hadn't reached Eijiro's ears. Key word: nearly. In turn, he'd reacted abruptly, springing to his feet and wrestling Denki away from the edge, this time pinning him down.