For #KrBkMonth2020 Day 7
Prompt: Seniors

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 (Part 2 out of 2)
Read Part One here: https://twitter.com/berrryshima/status/1291724665266692097?s=20
“Are you sure about this, Kiri?”

“Yes.”

“You can just come live with me!” Mina croaks, coughing up a storm before speaking again, “I don’t think Hanta would mind.”

“You already have a lot to take care of and Hanta would be freaked about some stranger in his house.”
“He,” Mina sighs, rubbing on her eyes. “You know it’s his condition talking and not him.”

“I know,” Kirishima nods. “Alzheimers is awful.”

“Well how about Denki?”

“And disturb him and his constant jive to feel young again?” Kirishima laughs heartily. “I’m good.
“Literally anything else is better than a,” Mina groans, vilely eyeing the sign of the building. “Happy Elders Senior Home.”

“Mina,” Kirishima sing-songs. “Please? Can’t these be my final wishes?”
“Stop saying that.” Mina hits his arm, looking at Kirishima and the luggage he brought with him. “Is this all you need?”

“Yeah. Just a bunch of clothes and a few pictures of us.”

“Look, I’ll find a way to get some doctors or,” Mina mumbles, her voice smaller than ever.
“Mina, please?” Kirishima sighs, quite tired of the conversation. “This is what I want, and if I were to die here in a room smelling like moth balls, then so be it.”

“I won’t stop, you should know that.” Mina continues, “I already lost Jirou, I won’t lose you too.”
“Hanta needs you right now, you’re the only one he remembers clearly.”

“God, he’s so into me.”

“So are you!” Kirishima guffaws, “You did marry him, after all.”

Mina offers him a smile, fiddling with the car keys in her hand. Trying to ignore the nurse who started++
++carrying Kirishima’s luggage in.

“Remember, you can always back out, alright? Call me?”

“I’ll write you a letter.”

“Hell no.” She frowns, “You’re gonna make it harder to move on. I’m not looking forward to some paper burning drama.”
Kirishima leans to kiss Mina on her forehead. “I’ll go now, yeah?”

“I’ll break you out, give me a week.”

“I really rather you didn't."
Kirishima bids Mina goodbye and watches as she gets in her car, making sure she doesn’t u-turn to snatch him back (something she pulled off during a bad date) before following the nurse inside.

Kirishima didn’t understand why Mina was so against him entering a senior’s home.
He was getting old, and there wasn’t anyone to take care of him or keep him company.

Sure, Kirishima did see himself as someone getting married and having a kid at some point but sometimes things don’t go your way++
++and he’s too old to be looking back to things he wished he could have done.

Kirishima smiles as they reach the common room, several oldies such as himself seated on worn-out couches or walking with a cane in hand.
Half paid attention to the large TV where the auction channel was droning about a porcelain swan decor, the others reading books and one lone senior sat on the chair playing chess.
“Kirishima-san, I’ll be storing these in your room,” The nurse informs him. “You can ask any of our staff for anything you might need.”

“Thank you, dude.” Kirishima grins, the gums of his false teeth exposed.

“You’re definitely livelier than the other folks here.”
“Dinner is at 6:30.” The nurse excuses himself, leaving Kirishima to start befriending everyone else, starting with the man by the chess table.
Walking up to him, Kirishima can hear the mutterings of someone playing solo chess and he’s almost amazed how one can have the patience.

He is careful not to surprise the stranger and taps his shoulder twice.
The man stops and Kirishima suddenly finds himself seeing the ashen blonde hair from somewhere, he notices the pasty skin of his hands and, as the stranger turns, recognizes the flaming red of his eyes.

Kirishima wonders if he could make a run for it.
“Bakugou?”

Bakugou scowls and squints his eyes, unfolding the glasses tucked on the placket of his dirty white polo shirt and leaning closer. His pupils blow wide upon recognition.
“Kirishima?!” Bakugou stands up, wincing at the pain that shoots up his legs before nervously offering his hand to shake. “You...You’re here.”

“Yeah.” Kirishima reaches and shakes it firmly, quite envious of his baby-soft skin even at his age.
He tries to smile with his eyes, finding it too awkward to give him an actual one.

It was moments like these that Kirishima wished he had the memory he assumed all old people had once they hit 65.
Unfortunately, he can still vividly picture the spread confetti of their last dance and all he can do is wince.

“This wasn’t the growing old together I had in mind.” Kirishima jokes, “I’m pretty sure my high school self would be devastated.”
“About that…” Bakugou takes a few steps forward, and Kirishima notices how scared he looked, gently slipping his wrinkled hand in his. “I missed you. I...”

“Ah!” Kirishima snatches his hand away. “Who knew you’d start making jokes at this age?”

“Kirishima?”
Bakugou sounded hurt, and it irritated Kirishima more than he thought.

“I don’t know about you, Bakugou.” Kirishima’s tone is firm, hand now held to his chest. “But I didn't come her to be reminded of high school. So if you could pretend it never happened that would be great.”
“But it did.” Bakugou stutters, he starts to slouch reaching for the hem of Kirishima’s shirt like an infant. “And I would really like to explain myself, please? Can we talk? I haven't gotten you out of my mind and-"
“Bakugou,” Kirishima scowled, inching away as he could see the beginnings of a sad look on Bakugou’s face, it wasn’t a good look on him. “I would like to completely forget it. It’s literally been decades, let’s drop it.”
“No, I-”

“Bakugou-san?” One of the nurses called from the hall. “Your daughter is here to visit you.”

“Ah.” Kirishima feels his breath hitch, “You got married?”

“No, I...I mean I was.”
“You should get going.”

Bakugou feels his heart grow weary watching him walk away, giving Kirishima one last glance before following the nurse to the visitation area.
Kirishima gives a relieved sigh as leaves. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his few remaining years, but he won’t allow one person of his past get in the way of that.

Bakugou was just some other senior in a senior’s home.

That’s all there is to it.
Bakugou was also apparently incredibly stubborn.

Having been used to his quiet demeanor, hearing Bakugou call his name was surprising.
At the mess hall, “Kirishima!” Bakugou would call his attention, insisting he takes the vacant seat Bakugou saved him.

In the common room, “Kirishima!” Bakugou would offer a game of chess, and Kirishima pretends he doesn’t notice the blond making poor moves to give him a win.
Before lights out, “Kirishima.” Bakugou would whisper, lucky enough to be neighbors with the redhead. “Good night.”
And from time to time, Bakugou would plop next to him, having to take a deep breath as pain shoots up his arms this time, and he’ll rest his hand on top of Kirishima’s.

“Kirishima. Can we talk?”

“Bakugou, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.” Bakugou nods, but his hand doesn’t leave and, sometimes, Kirishima doesn’t push him away.
Until Bakugou was Kirishima’s constant once again, he knew where to sit, he knew when they had a game of chess, he knew when Bakugou needed time to sleep on one of the worn-out couches and Kirishima would let him rest his head on his shoulder.
Kirishima isn’t sure what sets it off, but Bakugou was obviously everything but easily put-off, and so he gives in:

“Bakugou? What do you wanna talk about?”

Bakugou wasn’t one to grin, but the biggest grin was on his face that day.
He reaches for Kirishima’s hands, clasping them, unbothered by the callus he brushed against.

“I looked for you, did you know that?” Bakugou starts.
“Every spring break, I flew back and I looked for you. I went to the college you kept telling me you’ll go to, but they weren’t giving student information and it was a wide campus and no one knew you.” He leans on Kirishima's shoulder, “Did you go elsewhere?”
“Yeah. Lied on the Graduating forms on where I was going.”

“Was it because…”

“Part of it. I just didn't want anyone to dig up anything, I guess.” Kirishima doesn’t shrug, careful of Bakugou’s head. “You got a daughter?”

“Yeah,” He sounded happy
“I also got married, didn’t work out, filed for a divorce a year after it.”

“That was short.”

“It wasn’t something we both wanted. She was too in love with some childhood friend of hers.” Bakugou sighs, bringing Kirishima’s hand to his lips, laying a gentle kiss.
“And I was still stuck in the past.” Bakugou toys with Kirishima’s ring finger. “Did you ever get married?”

“Engaged, but he broke it off.”

“He was an idiot for letting someone like you slip away.” He scooches closer, “I would know.”
“You’re really sappy, Bakugou. Do you know that?”

“It’s the age.”

“I beg to differ, you might actually be a romantic at heart,” Kirishima snickers, “I mean, confessing to someone during Senior Prom? And looking for me? You have the makings of a romance film.”
“Well, does the film have a happy end? Do I get to be with the one I love?”

Kirishima notices the stiffness in his voice, almost as if he fears to know the answer to his question, and he finds it endearing.
“Maybe if you’d recreate that night you’d know.” Kirishima giggles, kissing the top of Bakugou’s head. “Just kidding.”

And Kirishima means it when he was just kidding, then again Bakugou never got the gist of jokes.
Because that night was spectacular with the outside space filled to the brim with balloon arches, sequined banners, and paper confetti for seniors’ night.
There were old tablecloths, a pair of plastic utensils per table, soups bowls and wine glasses arranged.

There was a long table set up at the side where warm soup was served in large gastronorm pan, a separate area for wine and scotch situated at the end.
Kirishima laughs as he spots Bakugou by the line of elders who wanted soup, trying to act nonchalant, just like he remembers.

He laughs as Bakugou walks to him, demanding that a dance be asked from Kirishima, his hand stretched out just like he remembers.
He hums in content as Bakugou holds his elbows, arms far too sore to be resting on his shoulders.

Kirishima is careful to wrap his arms around his waist, swaying him to the music of the home’s stereo.
It was a different song. Yet the same feeling bloomed in his chest, his heart thundering as red meets red.

“Kirishima.” Bakugou whispers, “Can I kiss you?”
“Mind the false teeth.”

“This is why you shouldn’t have filed them back in high school.”

“It was cool!”
But Bakugou leans in to kiss him.

Kirishima closes his eyes.

And they meet halfway.
“I love you.” Bakugou says breathlessly, “I really do love you. I don’t ever want to be without you.”

“Promise not to leave me this time?” Kirishima replies, his cheeks damp from tears he didn’t notice shedding. “I don’t think I can handle a heartbreak at 73.”
Bakugou nods stunned as Kirishima smiles, and it reminds him of the smile he fell in love with.

The smile that puts the sun to shame, the smile that makes his heart skip a beat, the smile that struck him the moment he first saw it directed at him.
“𝘏𝘪! 𝘐’𝘮 𝘒𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘥𝘶𝘥𝘦?”

It was a great smile.

It still is a great smile.
“Katsuki?” Kirishima says, albeit tone softer than usual.

“Yes, Eijirou?” His heart skips and it scares him.

“I love you too.”
—end! ✨💞

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