BNHA One Shots

Todobaku-Cherry Blossoms

Authors Note:
I'm so sorry for the slow updates life has been very stressful for me lately... this is a little OOC for Bakugou, but I think you'll understand why when you read.

Warnings:
• suicide and self harm
•mild profanity
•depression
•ANGST

I usually get a bit triggered when reading about both self harm and suicide because of some of the shit I've done to myself in the past, so I  never make it the focus and it isn't in overwhelming detail in order to try and avoid any issues. Don't worry it has a (kinda) happy ending, I wouldn't do that to you guys,
(❁'︶'❁)

Bakugous p.o.v.

Tokyo really was a beautiful place.

I was currently on a bridge across many of the small canals and waterways that wove through the city, pink sakura petals falling off of the trees along one side of the water. The other side harbored an amazing view of the Tokyo skyline, and I heard the light lapping and rhythmic thumping of the tram system somewhere on its course nearby. My reflection was wobbly at best in the clear blue water, and it was shallow enough for me to see the concrete lining the bottom.

It was early in the morning, around five, and most of the city was still asleep, leaving me mostly un-bothered to reflect on the moments leading me to this bridge.

Shouto was dead - or at least I was sure he would be by the time I returned to the hospital.

Suicide.

Tugging at my hair I tried to ground myself, watching the ripples I created as my hot tears rolled off my cheeks and into the water. Moving my hands from my hair, I dug them into the pocket of my leather jacket.

Finding what I was looking for, I held the photo out in front of me, inspecting it. It was evident I held it a lot - the white edges of the photo were darkened, and the once sharp edges were fuzzy and soft, and corners no longer pointed but round. The photo itself showed Shouto sitting on the edge of a bridge, feet dangling in their high top converse, and back facing the water. He had on a white turtleneck sweater tucked into his baggy jeans and held up by a belt. My black leather jacket was slung over his shoulder's, and his ears were shining in the sun with the brand new earrings he had gotten as an act of defiance against his father that very day.

Eyes squished closed he was smiling the widest I had ever seen him, he was practically glowing. His eyelashes were so long and prominent that the sun cast small shadows across his face with them, and his lips were shiny from our sloppy chap-stick filled kisses. His face was pink from both excitement and the cold, and the tiniest of dimples had formed in his slightly chubby cheeks.

No one would ever be as beautiful to me as Todoroki Shouto.

Even in the middle of the night when he was screaming from nightmares and clawing at his skin, looking paranoid and scared.

Even after that one time I caught him cutting, and how terrified and ashamed he was.

Even when he was lying in a stretcher, pale and lifeless.

He would always be the most beautiful thing in the world, my most treasured and important thing ever.

Unable to look at the photo any longer, I returned it to my pocket and twisted so my back was against the railing. I was now staring at the exact place the picture was taken, scratched crudely in its place a small TS+BK. I remembered how excited Shouto had been when telling me about how it was supposedly common in American culture to engrave you and your lovers initials or names in a place to remember. Using my folded up soda can we managed to engrave our initials, Shouto beaming and exclaiming excitedly about how it was no longer just any bridge - it was our bridge.

A part of me, a vastly growing one at that, immediately blamed myself for his death. If I had gotten there sooner to take the blade from him once again, if I had been there to stop Endeavor from bruising his soft pale skin, if - if ... if only.

The thing hurting me the most though was the smile. Cold, paler than ever before, and lying completely still on his bathroom floor, the tile covered in his blood, once white and now stained crimson. All I could focus on was the small, satisfied looking smile on his face as his foggy eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

I'd be lucky if my voice could even work with how loud I was screaming and crying at finding him. All the noise I could seem to produce now was light whimpering, and never before in my life had I not cared about looking weak.

My phone then abruptly went off, causing me to jump and my recollections to be cut off. Pulling it out of my pocket I saw the caller I.D. was my mom. Taking a large breath I answered, grunting loudly as my form of a hello.

"Katsuki! You damn brat we need you here!" sighing, my words seemed uncomfortable and rushed.

"Sue me if I need some more time before seeing the love of my life dead, you old hag" voice weak and gruff, I cleared my throat in a poor attempt to remedy it before hearing my mom yell hysterically,

"He's alive, Katsuki!"

Welp I hate myself now _:('□'」 ∠):_

👋Bye bitches I love you 👋