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…….

This wasn't the first time that Shinsou felt his ears were full of cotton and his tongue tasted like fresh citrus, just at the back. That tangy, battery-acid like taste coated the back of his tongue and his throat-- every swallow the citrus turned to copper and he distantly knew that there was blood running in the back of his throat; his nose must've been broken again. He just set the fucking thing a month ago. He doesn't exactly hear as well as he used to-- you know, like this morning. Ears full of cotton, almost like he was underwater and when he tries to focus on the noises around him, there was an ever encompassing ringing that seemed to get louder the harder he tried to focus. He can't hear the cars, he can't hear the sirens… he can't hear anything: not clearly anyway. Did he hit his vape a little too hard?

he feels soft hands at the back of his neck and one on the curve of his jaw. Despite him being dazed, Shinsou flinches at the hand and pulls his head back slightly; fingers dig into the dirt and he relishes the feeling of the grit against his burned and cut palms. He keeps the sand in his grip in case he needs to throw it to make an impromptu escape. He's still in fight or flight mode-- still in that mindset of going Plus Ultra! but soon, that hand gently comes back, starting at the curve of his neck and heading slowly up to his nape and his head instantly falls back to look upwards to the owner of the hand. his eyes are unfocused, the glare weak as he tries to put on an intimidating front, but Shinsou burnt himself out quickly. The ambush was so sudden that he didn't exactly have time to regulate the strength needed. It was just.. guns blazing in a hopes of getting out of it.

"b-Bunny?" he stuttered slightly, speech slurred from no doubt an oncoming concussion. His tongue felt ten times bigger in his mouth now. It almost makes him want to gag.

"w-what's.. um.." he pauses, eyebrows drawing together as he tries to form a sentence but he can't. He's overwhelmed; his body wants to clam up and he can feel the internal fight of wanting to shut down and wanting to scream at everything he's feeling. It's a shame his quirk didn't work on himself.

" mm." his eyes close, the pounding in his head finally starting to throb behind his eyes, in his teeth-- even his cheeks hurt with each ache of his head. He reaches up, gripping Deku's arm with a trembling hand.

"i got.. fucked up.. huh?" he laughed quietly, the exhaustion more palatable than anytime before. He gives a gurgling inhale before his hand starts to grip Deku tighter and tighter and tighter--

His eyes soften at the latte on the desk, mouth quirking up at the corners ever so slightly. His hand pauses at scratching at the nape of his neck to simply resting his hand against the back of neck, dragging it down to his shoulder slightly. He leans his head to the left and right, a sickening series of snaps following as he released the pressure from his neck and shoulders. Long fingers grab the drink as he flops himself down into the uncomfortable chair, propping his feet up on a smaller, non-wheeled chair. His eyes flutter shut when he takes his first sip.

"That's gay."

Hitoshi says in a serious tone, mirror the tone of concerned before he breaks out in snickers, slightly rolling away from Katuski // @xplosionbomb to cover his eyes with his hand but he can't stop the stupid grin from stretching across his mouth. He's coughing and laughing, listing his arm to peek out from under it to the blonde and through the haze of smoke that lingered between them. Hitoshi had the night off, not surprising with how hot it's been in the evenings. Too damn hot to be causing all that riffraf. Hitoshi certainly doesn't want to try and squeeze into his hero suit in this humidity.

"I can make you forget if you'd like. If only for a few moments; don't think my quirk can actually make you forget shit permanently."

Ah hell, he made himself sad again. He's quiet now, teeth biting the inside of his right cheek out of habit. He's ruined his own fucking high again. Realistically, he knows Bakugou isn't seriously thinking about him all the time. He knows Bakugou isn't telling him this to make him feel bad, or even insinuating that he wanted to forget. Hitoshi took it too literally. He flops his arm down on the bed, pushing himself up before his legs cross and long fingertips are plucking the half smoked joint from the ashtray. He snags his lighter before letting the flames ignite the end of the "cigarette" before taking a deep draw from the other end.

" I knew what you meant, just.. ignore me. If you can."