•Chapter Eight•
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It would be an understatement to say the two boys were working hard to Kirishima's grades up. During their dance practices, they'd study and do homework when they should be relaxing. They'd dance for an hour, study for thirty minutes, and then repeat. Three hours had passed since they started practising that Tuesday afternoon and Kirishima felt like he was going to die from exhaustion. The blonde was in a constant loop of work, work, work, and Kirishima wasn't sure how much more of it he could take before his body would decide to stop working on him.
There were no breaks in between studying and practice like there should have been so they wouldn't wear their bodies out, but Katsuki was an overachiever and the kind of guy to go until his body physically wouldn't allow him to anymore. How the guy was still alive was a question science had yet to answer.
It was Tuesday, giving them three days or so to get his grades at least to a passing grade. At that point, Katsuki wasn't determined to make sure the idiot had As all across the board. He just needed the guy to pass so he wouldn't end up getting stuck with the other idiots by himself. That would be a nightmare.
"I can't do this anymore," Kirishima said, breathless as he fell onto the floor. The cold of the floor felt relaxing on his flushed, sweat-covered body. He could fall asleep right there and not care about how uncomfortable the hard floor was.
For a moment, the redhead was expecting Katsuki to yell at him to get up and maybe pull him up too, but he was meet with a pleasant surprise when he opened his eyes and found that Katsuki was sitting on the floor as well, his chest rising and falling at a rapid, nearly dangerous, pace. Turned out the asshole could get tired as well, or he realized that Kirishima would have died if he were to keep pushing his body past its limit.
He embraced the cold on the floor, stretched his arms high above his head, a groan leaving his voice as the stretch turned into a whole body stretch that felt like heaven. His body relaxed against the floor again and let his eyelids flutter shut, his chest finally falling into a steady rhythm of rising and falling.
A feeling of gratefulness filled him after he went over the recent events in his head. He was certain Katsuki had been working himself to the bone to not only help Kirishima achieve the level of perfection needed for them to win the dance but to also succeed in his studies as well. Granted, the blonde wasn't doing either of those things out of the kindness of his heart but he was still doing it nonetheless.
"Hey Katsuki," Kirishima said, tilting his head back against the floor to look in Katsuki's direction. The blond didn't answer and Kirishima wasn't going to wait around in the silence for an answer that wouldn't come so he continued to speak. "Can you describe the colour red?"
Katsuki cocked a brow. "Why?"
He gave a shrug. "Why not?"
Silence. So much suffocating silence that Kirishima was starting to get annoyed with. But then the silence was broken, Katsuki's rough voice filling it. "Mhm... I don't fucking know, Shitty Hair... I guess you could say it's the colour of everything. Warmth, anger, passion, love. Red, it pops out at you. We make things red, fire engines and chips bags, because we want people to notice them."
Kirishima was beaming, beaming because he wasn't expecting Mr. Grumpy to actually do it. And what surprised him more was how he kept going. He went on and on and he soaked up every second of it. Katsuki could be a storyteller too, an even better one that Mina at that and that said a lot.
Red is love. Its the feeling you get when you hold hands with someone and the sparks fly and the world seems to stop moving but you feel so red because of the flood of emotions that had hit you like an ocean wave. Loving is red when one day feels like a lifetime, and a lifetime feels like just one day.
Red is anger. Its the feeling you get when your face heats up and your mouth starts to stutter and your eyelashes hurt because your vision is so blurred. Red is the feeling of choking on tears and screams at the same time while your ears are ringing. Anger is red when it becomes the sheet that blinds you from living in anything other than the fire that is burning before you.
Katsuki seemed to know so much about anger... too much and it made Kirishima wonder what things he had been through and what events had occurred in his life to make him bound that that one single emotion.
Red is confusion. It's is the moment that you don't know how to describe red anymore, the moment you realize there are no words to describe anything. It's the realization that some things in this world are beyond our reach, so far yet so close at the same. It's the feeling of being speechless, of being mysterious, of being so utterly fucking shocked. It's the feeling that evokes creativity and curiosity and beauty in the world because of how versatile it is.
Describing the colour red is different every day, every minute, and every moment because describing its describing what is on your heart and how it beats. Describing red is describing the beauty that fills the world through feelings and emotions and using words that aren't in one's daily vocabulary. Red is astonishing, red is exhilarating, red is all the letters and words in the world exploding and falling down slowly, hitting everyone in its own special way.
Red... it was the colour covering Kirishima's face as his cheeks began to hurt and sting from the smile that showed no signs of leaving his face any time soon, even long after Katsuki stopped speaking because he ran out of words to use. Red, it was Kirishima's favourite colour.
"You've got a way with words, man," Kirishima said after he let the words sink into his brain and fill his being.
"You have a way of making me want to constantly fucking choke you," Katsuki retorted, huffing out a large puff of air in annoyance at the realization of what he did and what he said and how he said it.
"You would have already choked me if I was that much of a burden," he replied and moved from laying down to sitting up, legs crossed and hands in his lap like how he was taught when he was too small to understand the world.
"Whatever. Now you need to return the favour," he said, changing the subject. "Your vision... what do you see?" he asked.
He smiled brighter, even that was even possible. "Well, my vision is one of a kind. No one sees what I see." He fell into a swift silence. A feeling of uncertainty wafted over him; he wasn't sure he would be able to describe his vision to Katsuki in a way that was equally as poetic as the way the blond spoke.
Oh fuck. He was about to make himself to look like a fool.
"It's like... a tunnel. A never-ending tunnel. You can run at it forever, the light at the end a dot in the distance that never seems to get closer no matter how long you run at it. I can see people as they're backlit and I can see the sun when it isn't coated in clouds. And I've got these distracting, built-in fireworks that never stop exploding. I used to be able to envision the way the people around me looked, like Mina and Kaminari and my parents but I can't do that anymore because visual memory doesn't last long," slowly, as his words came to an end, his shoulders slumped forward and the smile on his face still stayed, but it turned to one of sadness and he realized that he went off topic.
The air around him became heavy as Katsuki moved closer to peer at the redhead, his own eyes narrowing. And Kirishima, stumbling over his words at the sudden lack of space he could feel between the felt his insides light up. They had been close before but it was for a different reason, it was because they were dancing and needed to get close if they wanted to win. This closeness was brought about due to Katsuki's own will, conciseness, and lack of obligation.
But then the air was light again and the heat he could feel Katsuki emitting was gone as he the blond went back to his spot with his back against the wall. "I just noticed... your eyes, they shake. Like, all the fuckin' time. Is your vision shaky?"
The bright smile wasn't back, but the one of sadness had turned to a microscopic grin. "Nystag..." he furrowed his brows. "Nystagmus. It's called nystagmus. And no, it doesn't mess with what I see."
Katsuki clicked his tongue and shook his head, hair swaying at the motion. "They look like they're dancing."
And again, he lit up like a light and let out a breath. No one had ever referred to them like that before. Most people actually avoided looking Kirishima in the eye because they couldn't stand the constant movement freaked them out and made them feel discomfort. Mina and Kaminari asked about it once but after Kirishima told them what it was, the big word made them lose interest. Or maybe they just didn't feel the need to constantly point it out. Either way, he didn't mind. He didn't mind not talking about his eyes or his vision because how often do people with sight talk about what they see? They don't.
"Dancing eyes..." he mumbled under his breath, making his words nearly inaudible to Katsuki.
The boys willed themselves to start working again but thankfully, they didn't work too much longer and ended up calling in for the night when the sun had long since set behind the mountains. Before they split up, Katsuki forced Kirishima to give him a number and instantly shut Kirishima down when he said something Kaminari would say. Katsuki had instantly shut him down.
"Don't fucking text me. Ever."
"What's the point of trading numbers then?"
"So I can make sure you make it home safely."
"Awh bro! You do care!"
"Die."
They split up, the night encasing them in its hands as they travelled deeper into the darkness. Katsuki turned his head several times, looking at Kirishima more times than necessary to make sure the idiot didn't fall or end up going the wrong way. But he kept going without looking back at Katsuki, the husky leading him around light posts and chunks of frozen ground. His independence was bizarre to him, but it was manly to not let something like that slow him down.
That idiot...
〄
Dinner was mundane as usual and consisted of the scarping of silverware against glass plates reflecting the dim lights. He didn't waste time shovelling his food into his mouth, hardly chewing any of it. Most the time, the quiet during their meals was bearable but all he wanted to do was escape up to his room so he could listen to his music and finish the last few homework questions using the tricks Katsuki taught him.
He stuffed the last bite of porkchop into his mouth, practically tossed his plate into the sink, and made a break for it up the stairs before either one of his mom could stop him. Once in his room, he shot the door and collapsed onto his bed with his books and laptop. He couldn't even start before he got a text, the screen of his phone reading out that it was Katsuki.
Oh fuck. He had been home for nearly an hour, making it a little after nine, and he forgot to text Katsuki like he said he would. Quickly, he tapped the skin and gliding his finger over the screen, reading the text that came off as rather angry.
From: Katsuki
Hey Shitty Hair, are you fucking home already or do I need to go looking in ditches for you?
Received at 9:07 PM
To: Katuki
i made it home like an hour ago
Sent at 9:09 PM
From: Katsuki
Are you fucking shitting me? You said you'd fucking text me when you got home fuckstick
Received at 9:10 PM
To: Katsuki
i forgot bro!
Sent at 9:13 PM
From: Katsuki
Next time you forget I'll cut your fucking fingers off and shove them up your ass
Received at 9:14 PM
Kirishima let out a large breath of laughter, falling back onto his bed, abandoning his phone by his side. Even over text, the blond was a jackass who spat out unnecessary threats and vulgar language.
To: Katsuki
wyd?
Sent at 9:17 PM
From: Katsuki
Nothing that concerns you
Received at 9:18 PM
He left his phone alone after that text; he didn't know how to respond and he didn't want to keep annoying Katsuki the way he was, especially if he was busy with something. He fell into the letters of his homework, zoning out the rest of the world so he could finish. With the things Katsuki taught him under his belt, Kirishima was able to get through the last remaining problems without getting stuck or struggling the way he used to.
Finishing the last problem with the confidence that it was correct was a euphoric feeling that he never thought homework would give him. More times than not, he never reached the end of his problem sets. He pushed the laptop and books away to the side of the bed near the wall and fell back flush against the pillows, letting his eyes shut.
A ding from his phone caught his attention and without opening his eyes, his hand searched around the blankets until he felt the device. He lifted it up and saw that it was a text from Katsuki. He thought it was going to be another angry text at first, one yelling at him for leaving the blond on read but it was a question. A question that didn't come off as rude or passive aggressive or insensitive. It was just a question
From: Katsuki
Shitty Hair, what do you miss most about sight?
Received at 9:31 PM
To: Katsuki
freedom
Sent at 9:32 PM
From: Katsuki
Freedom? Elaborate
Received at 9:34 PM
To: Katsuki
i can't go for runs on my own without someone, i can't drive or anything like that. im always going to be bound to stick, or a dog, or a human.
Sent at 9:37 PM
From: Katsuki
I thought you were gonna give some simple ass answer like video games or whatever
Received at 9:38 PM
To: Katsuki
im a little more complicated than that man
Sent at 9:40 PM
Katsuki never sent a response and at first, Kirishima was worried that the guy was mad at him for being a nuisance but Katsuki was the one who messaged him first. He must've fallen asleep, then.
He rolled onto his side and wondered things, wondered what Katsuki looked like when he was asleep or studying or when he was dancing. He wondered what Katsuki looked like in general. Even though Mina told him to the best of her ability, it would never be enough for him to picture a face. Even the best storyteller in the world could use the most descriptive words with the most accurate dimensions and colours and he would still never be able to picture his face. That, things like that, were enough to rip his heart straight from his chest and crush it.
Since he was just the age of four years old, he knew the fate that would turn his world upside down when he got older. He was expecting it to take over by the time he was middle-aged when he was living a life he had already created. But he had always been unlucky...
He remembered the day he woke up to a world of darkness, a world he would be subjected to until the end of his days. Waking up to see nothing but the small bit of light that came through the window of the very room he was in was jarring and unsettling- but not surprising. That bit of light gave him the smallest bit of comfort on that fateful morning.
-
Sleep. Plagued by nightmares, and Kirishima somehow managed to sleep through until morning.
Although it was midsummer and he felt the sun coming through his window shining brightly on his pale face, shadowed by his dark bangs, he kept his eyes tightly shut for fear that when he opened his eyes, his world would still be dark. But Kaori always told him that he wouldn't just wake up to the darkness, that it would warn him before it set in.
But it didn't.
After some long minutes rooted in the same spot, he cautiously opened them, squinting like it was the first time he had ever done so. He was expecting to see the same sun coming through the window, to see the blue quilt he got from his moms as a birthday present covering his legs at the foot of the bed in front of him. He wanted to see the many posters he had hanging on his walls of his faouvrite dancers, the man tapes he had of his biological mother dancing sitting by an old box TV that was older than him.
His heart rate was back up in an instant as he was met with darkness. Only the slightest bit of light. That was it. He could only see the white sun rays pouring in from between the curtains and the faint light of his night light plugged into the wall. Yes. Even at the age of eleven he still held a fear for the dark and knowing that one day his world would be consumed by it further tormented him.
But he did his best not to panic outwardly at least. Inside he was a wreck. Nothing but irresolutions swarmed him. Several small tears left his eyes before he wiped them up quickly to avoid the stains they'd leave behind on his skin as evidence.
His slender fingers glided the edges of the soft quilt, in search of the end of the mattress. He couldn't find it.
More panic swelled.
"Ayami!" he called out.
Loud, heavy and fast foot stops followed by the door creaking open helped calm him. Ayami was home, she would understand.
"Kirishima?"
"I... can't see..." his voice came out as a faint, almost inaudible whisper. Despite his best efforts, more tears slid down his face.
Several steps. The mattress sinking down in front of him. She was there. Ayami learned forward and grabbed one of her son's hands with her own and with her free hand, she helped guide the raven's head to her shoulder.
"You'll be okay..." her whisper was weaker than he expected.
It wasn't believable.
He was starting his life over again before he'd ever had the chance to process it.
〄
Word Count: 3239
March 31, 2019
I hated the start of this chapter but it got better near the end and I'm hella thankful for that
-StarsNeverLanding