FULL BLOOM

          𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒,  𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋,  she shares the strive to a path for victory,  the thought of success enough to keep the body warm for many winters   —   for such youthful competitors,  their small bodies prove to be a challenging heat.   Even now,  off the stage and away from the dance hall,  she moves in tandem with this spark for her partner,  the spotlight on their crowns and the applause drowning their breath.   And it doesn’t intimidate,  her own shocks come in waves that he doesn’t falter through.   It’s why they work so well,  she can comprehend that.   The girl may have more experience but she is truly impressed at how well he’s kept up so far,  she would call it natural talent but that would offend his hard work.

               “  𝗗𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗱, 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙙,  ”     a huff through her mouth,  she sticks her pink tongue out at him,  a swipe of a clawless paw to his bark,  before jumping ahead again.   Kohaku lands on a bench,  walking across as her head turns to stare at the small park with its lonely swings full of snow.     “  𝗛𝗲𝘆, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝘄𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗲!  ”     She twirls once,  arms out for balance.     “  𝗦𝗼 𝗯𝘆 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝘄𝗲’𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆!   ”

           THREADS OF THE CHOSEN FEW  /  GOLDEN WEAVE  .               they pull at his fingertips  ,    drawn to lucid melodies  .     phantom notes played upon the   click of his tongue  ,    thoughts coaxed along conjured   stream of recollection  ——   an added step  ,    another taken away  ,    subtle adjustment to poised posture that feels   no longer the stranger   that it once did within his frame  .    HE WILL BE A HERO  .    this much  ,    there is no doubt  .    only absolution in the resolute that   hardens his heart   and calls for the brightest future  .    this is but a small detour   on the road to greatness  .     (     he believes this now  ,    steadfast now   where he had been only defiant  ——   what good could   dancing   possibly do for him  ?    more than he could possibly know  .     )

              ❛     wouldn’t call you stupid if you weren’t stupid  .     ❜              this boy  ,    he could never bear to lose  .    the gentle crunch of snow beneath his boots  ,    heavy in that way particular to him  :    a harsh breath   escapes from lips pulled tight   in displeasure  ,    rustling the unforgiving sharpness of his hair that   falls against his eyes  .    a throwaway thought  :    should probably get that cut soon  .    after all this horrible snow business is done and   out of the way  .

    DESPITE HIS BRIGHTENED features showing none of the possible pain he could be feeling, his sunny response has her brimming with concern. ‘ so it DID hurt? ‘ it’s a situation SAKURA’s never come across;; to have her punch acknowledged & yet — the man remains genuinely jovial before her. ( as if she hadn’t just sucker punched him. )

     “So, y-you’re … okay? Are you hurt?”

    immediately she’s at his side, hand hovering along his cheek with a green glow. “I mean, if your face is rubber then .. .can you still bruise?” she’s rambling, unsure of what to expect. “ …..urgh, I really don’t know what to do with someone made of rubber!!”

           ANOTHER ROUND OF GIGGLES PART FROM HIM              bolstered all the more by your worried gestures  .              ❛     nah  ,    that was nothing  .    i’m gonna become the   pirate king  ,    after all  !    ❜               he states this with   absolute confidence   bound to the curve of his   effortless grin  ,    as if the sentiment for achieving his ultimate dream is   explanation enough   for all that he does    ——    and perhaps  ,    for him  ,    it is  .    he lets out   one last snicker   before he stills for your administrations  ,    attention caught like fluttering   butterfly wings to the mint glow of your hand  .    it delivers the   same softness   as treatment from   lovable adorable chopper  ,    with a tingle that brings him warmth  .

            HIS EXPRESSION IS A BATTLEFIELD :              brows furrowed so deep   /   face scrunched in a rather unattractive manner  .     situated aside in a   quiet bubble   of his own making  ,    he clutches with both hands his phone and   fumbles   to press at the screen in rapid succession  .    it is a look of such intensity that he wears  ,    so rarely seen for little else   besides volleyball    ——    a look that  ,    upon further investigation will reveal itself to be an   unfortunate amalgamation   of bafflement and   besetment   in equal amounts  .    on screen  ,    his playable character falls to their knees and   withers away to ash  :    he closes his eyes to mourn this loss for the   twentieth time  .    the words   game over   boldly taunt him as he opens them again and   quickly   presses the button to continue  ,    unaware   of approaching presence  .

           ❛     ...  one more time  .     ❜

𝚃𝙾 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝙰𝚃𝙰𝚁𝙰𝚇𝙸𝙰 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚆𝙸𝚇𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝚆𝙾 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼   &  𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝚁𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝚃 in the crux of ataxia might be absurd to some.  with horror gnawed to the bone,  a prayer is beseeched to the alamort martyrs.  they,  the forsaken,  this dereliction is prevalent.  it is a testament written in stone,  an inevitability of victors,  the ethos of being a hero.  as they walk on the debris of what was once there,  witnessing the growth of decay,  the world fell silent.  the psalm of the dismay that the enemies are preaching is now withdrawn from their mouths.  now,  he can only hear their heartbeats  &  the ripples of breath.  it is almost unsettling as he has habituated himself to dissonance.  there’s something wrong,  he thinks.  just when the sight of the bridge is clear,  that is when the earth below them begins to tremble.  

             ❝   shit. bakugō!   ❞   ;    it was almost a cry as the ground opens its mouth,  revealing the hellfire of catastrophe’s entities.  grotesque  &  moribund,  along with it,  their malodorous animus.  this left him speechless for a moment before the boy in his arms weeps,  pointing at the very terror shōto promised to protect him from.  with his command,  glaciers erupted from the land,  enclosing the three of them in a transitory shelter.   ❝   there’s too many of them.   ❞   &  nothing is left unseen,  all are witnessed.   ❝   i can hold them for a moment,  enough time for you  &  the boy to pass the bridge.  you can do that, right?   ❞

                THE WORLD IS A DREAM OF NIGHTMARE PALETTE              washed void of color and dipped in pitch bleakness  .     apocalyptic vision   brought to life in   shattered sepia filters   and the broad strokes of carnage’s brush  .    crushed beneath   their heavy boots are the   vestiges of atrophy  that provide so marred a landscape canvas  .   what is reality if not the loss of innocence  ?    blood stirs   a storm in fatal veins   at the thought  ,    branded within the minds eye with   conviction blade  .    he is a   weapon   and his hands are   the ammunition    ———    one decision move from   trigger fire  .    and it is with this vigilance that they proceed  ,    the following silence a suffocation presence  .    it’s quiet  .    too quiet  .    boiled too thick   and sucked through too much vacuum space  ,    even for their departure from active battlefield  .    realization slams in a   split second too late  ,    your call wholly swallowed by the ground   tearing itself open   beneath the heel of balanced footing to send him tumbling  .   monstrosity maw   emerges to lunge for his exposed leg  ,    instinctive drive   to release explosions rocketing him into the air  .    he lands within the   erected sanctuary   of your ice  ,    immediate sneer   carved to his face as he rounds on you and your   absurd words  .                ❛     you really think i’m gonna just let you play a goddamn martyr  ?     ❜

    DOUR EXPRESSION      cements itself onto fine features with the weight of his troubled mind.       self-awareness was a fickle thing to Sect Leader Jiang nowadays;         the concept either evading him entirely or wrapping,       vice-like,        round his throat to suffocate him with claustrophobic affliction.           there had been a time,        once,         where the chiding suggestion by one of his siblings,       steeped in humor,         to soften the rage he wore so well upon his handsome features would have nudged him into begrudged complacency,    subsequent pull of his lips suggesting vague amusement.      the dawn of dissension,      with the threat of its garish light creeping closer to douse him in scandal as days passed,     divests him this trivial concession;      the simple pleasures of those gilded days,      one by one,       devoured by their cruel and covetous fate. 

       “  what exactly is there to smile about ?  ”          he answers,       solemn.           yet aloof response proves to be only half-hearted as his expression relents,         scowl easing not in the entirety of its ferocity but smoothing,        at least,         the offending crease of lines dampening his youthful countenance.          here in the anonymity of a festive crowd,       he allows himself the pretense of their familiarity,       the falsity of which wounded him to think about.        “  i suppose i don’t have to explain to you the frustrations of having others depend on you,      but enough of this.      are you well ?  ” 

             A MOMENT OF QUIET CONTEMPLATION              that lays bare the thrumming beat of this dormant heart  .     some nights he will watch his   mirror reflection   shift with the shadows that lurk in   shapeless darkness  ,    and wonder how it is that there   still exists life   in this husk of a body  .    what indeed  !    a question that   holds him hostage   at sword point but can   demand no answer   from him    ——    despite his previous words he finds himself   smiling for very little   these days  ,    not quite content   to drown in melancholy but   doing naught   to abate the crushing waves  .    thus  :    soft platter serve   of the teasing that had become your brotherhood  ,    and now   one of only a few reminders   of what feels like an entire lifetime ago  .    anything to mimic brighter days  ,    chasing semblance of the   normalcy he once had   with your company  ,    the only way he knows   to talk to you without descending into yet another fight  .     (     and truly   /   he grows tired   of the constant stalemates  ,    cannot seem to ever bid farewell   without it  .    surely this instance will be   no different    ——    he just wishes it doesn’t happen   too fast   this time  .     )

          𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖,  𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 her whole body dances like it knows nothing else:  grace,  strength,  a prowl disguised as a waltz   —   it’s not a wonder as to why the current two are partners.   Other than their age,  the young girl has identified a shared will power.   They see eye to eye in work ethic,  despite her being a little more experienced they show an impressive synchronization for such a young pair.  He’s a heated one,  this boy akin to the sun from his mane to the burning red in his eyes,  she thinks he can stay warm enough out here by frowning alone.   The cold doesn’t bother her but she rubs her gloved hands together anyway,  warm air billowing from her exposed mouth.   The other’s voice is slightly muffled from the scarf but she can hear him even through her ear warmers just fine.

          Kohaku nods her head,  a light of enthusiasm keeps youthful skin aglow,  a positive force to join his steadfastness.     “  𝗪𝗲’𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻! 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘁, 𝘁𝗼𝗼.  ”     She avoids a frozen puddle,  opting for Katsuki’s other side.     “  𝗜𝘁’𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗳 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝗷𝘂𝗺𝗽 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝙄 𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵.  ”     It’s not a jab,  or maybe it is,  part of her quirk is boosted strength but the instructor says “it wouldn’t look nice”,  pft!

            AND IT IS NO TRIVIAL MATTER OF PERFECTION              to pursue the crown of excellence as he does  .     what could drive such dedication  ?    to be born only of   a decade winters   gone by  ,    and yet already so imbued with   the soul of a competitor   that can swallow no defeats  ,    in all that   he sets his ablaze heart upon  .    scorn manifests   a shallow edge of displeasure   along the downturn of sullen lips    ——    automatic symptom   to your vivacity that he is   absolutely loathe to admit he may be slowly   acclimatizing himself to  .    the thought brings only another wave of irritation  .             ❛     TCH  .    that’s ‘cause they suck  .     ❜

           IT IS THE QUIET SPOT OF SCENIC DETOUR              and the sense of adventure that never seems to lose its luster  :     tempered only by the mechanism of   compounded age   and life experience  .    or so it would   seemingly appear   to be the case  ,    if it were not for the   sharpness   of his gaze that sweeps over any and all things  ,    and the   thoughtful hum   that weaves excitement from between upturned lips  .    new people   /   new sights  !    so the saying goes  ,    even if buildings always look   exactly the same   no matter where he goes and there are   only so many   towers a person can handle  .    the people though  ...    speaking of    whom    ——    a light jog brings him closer to you  ,    charming sunshine grin   dialled up to eleven as he accentuates his greeting with a   throwaway wave   of his hand  .

            ❛     you should be   honored   to be my guide  !                          not everyone gets this   once in a lifetime   chance  .     ❜

            THE RARE SPOTTING OF SUCH A VIEW  .              shoulders hunched with intensity only otherwise afforded to pinnacle sport of his heart  .     concentration will carve a canyon down the   drawn furrows   that are his brows  ,    following the ridge of a   scrunched nose   to the unfortunate valley of lips   caught   between his teeth     ——    onlookers will say    what  determination  !    and offer their pity and   other sympathies   for this presence that   ever so rarely   graces the classroom of the more   academically elite  ,    uncharted territory   as far as he is concerned  .    he would have never bothered if it were not for you    and the unfortunate situation of   unfinished homework   that looms over his shoulder  :    a thought brought to life  ,    the soft grunt of   patent impatience   as he nudges his workbook forward a smidgen  .

              ❛     OI  .    the hell   does this question mean  ?     ❜

                                           So  he  might  have  slipped  away  from  his  bodyguard  in  the  night  ,          BUT  HE’S  A  GENTLEMAN  --------          that’s  why  he  was  at  the  park  across  the  road  ,   so  as  not  to  disturb  the  notoriously  light  sleeper          (   he  had  no  hope  of  it  working  ,   it’s  not  like  he’s  especially  sneaky   )          But  he’s  lucky  enough  Mr.  Kim  &   his  vendor  are  around  late  ,     so  he  can  bring  back  a  tasty  bribe  .

                                            As  he  quietly  returns  inside  ,   the  warm  bag  is  purposefully  set  upon  the  table  ,   assuming  his  guard  is  already  awake  ,   he  calls  out  .               ❝     I  brought  back  fish  -  shaped  buns  ,     so  you  can’t  be  really  mad  ,     deal  ?     ❞               //      @corvalis· - bakugou   !

              IT IS DARKNESS THAT VEILS HIS APPROACH  .              they exist at the zenith of sleepless nightscape      where they stand basked in the   caress of moonlight   across the sprawling metropolis that is   seoul city  .    and so fractal shards will illuminate his silhouette thus  ,    sharp lines   that trace the displeasure he wears with   such prominence  ,    in the stilted cross   of his arms and the furrow of   pinched brows  .   from where he situates himself  ,    propped just so   against the hallway that connects their separate suites    ——    his sneer is a   thunderclap   amidst the dead of this night  .              ❛     shut up  !    i’ll be as mad as i want  .     ❜