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Just a slight warning, there are some kind of depressing thoughts towards the end, but nothing too extreme. There is, however, in deppth descriptions of drowning, so if that distresses you, please proceed with caution.

***

The ship rocked beneath the team, the waves crashing into the sides and causing water on the deck to slosh back and forth, causing many of the crew mates to lose their already weak footing against the slippery, lacquered wood of the deck beneath them, Bakugou included. 

He was thrown backwards and forwards as the boat swayed, the railing behind him digging into his back bruisingly hard, hands knuckles turning white from gripping on so hard. He barely heard someone say his name, their voice also lost to the loud and aggressive noise of the storm they were under, but he was too caught up in his attempts to stay upright to pay any heed to them, the words seeming to wash over his ears as his panic rose and heartbeat sped up. 

"Bakugou! Are you okay?" The captain, Aizawa, yelled, his long dark hair dripping from its position tied back, his dark shirt sticking to his chest due to its dampness. The ash blonde boy turned to look at him, his eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to concentrate on several things at once, his grip on the ship railing slowly fading as exhaustion set into his body and arms, muscles protesting with every minor use. His lungs were freezing in the air and his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his shoes stopping their slipping around as he finally gained confident footing. 

"Aizawa! Go back inside! I'll be okay!" He yelled, voice straining to be heard over the thunderous crashing of the waves around him. He was hoping the waver in his tone went unnoticed, unwilling to admit his shortfallings to a fatherly figure. The dark-haired captain nodded, his expression stern as he tried to manage the crisis at hand. His red eyes flitted around, trying to find something to help with or correct in their emergency, and Bakugou was thankful for the attention to no longer be settled on him, a weight lifted from his shoulder as the potential to disappoint his mentor diminished. 

The young sailor boy watched as the captain attempted to run back to the cabins, to find a place inside with the warmth and comfort of the remainders of the crew, and he was grateful for one of his only family members to be safe inside, finally releasing the breath he had been holding and feeling his lungs stoop their burning protest. He took a deep inhale, breathing deeply and mentally and physically preparing to make a dash for the cabin door in an attempt to gain warmth, but a sudden, overly forceful wave crashed into the side of the ship. 

Bakugou lost his handle on the rail behind him as the boat tipped to the side, a mix of the slippery surface and the shock from the force the cause of his slip up. The familiar feeling of the wooden beam he had clung to slipped down the entirety of his back, and as he felt himself flip over the railing, he found that he had never wanted the comfort and known of varnished wood more in his life. Panic seized his chest and his breathing practically stopped as his heart sped up, a feeling of weightlessness washing over him as his feet lifted off the ground. His hands scrambled for any perch on any surface, his aching and protesting arms flapping through the air as panic controlled every part of him. 

The fall seemed endless. He seemed to have been suspended in the air for far too long a time to be considered natural, his heart racing and his pulse pounding in his ears as he came to terms with the crashing waves beneath him becoming his new home. He was concerningly cold, his wet shirt providing no warmth or protection from the chilling, stormy winds wrapping around him, and his eyes stung because of salty water, either as a result of tears or sea water making contact. He honestly wasn't sure. 

He was vaguely aware of his name being shouted, yelled over the railing, deep and booming and painfully obvious despite the crashing waves he drew ever nearer to, and the raging storm that overtook his senses. He thinks, hopes, it was the captain. Logically, he wasn’t sure it would be anyone else. He was a nuisance to the rest of them, who would care if he went over? Who would even notice?

Time seemed to speed back up to a normal time, and before he could comprehend what was happening, his back had made contact with the sea beneath him, the cold of the water and the hard, painful slap effectively winding him. He fell under, floating in the deep murkiness, cold and wet and wrong encompassing him all around. He felt weightless again, every limb in his body suspended in what felt like nothingness, but what he also knew to be thick and wrong. He stayed there for seconds, before panic forced his muscles to move, kicking to the surface and crashing through the water, shaking the remaining dampness off his hair. The chilling water encompassed him, shocking his nervous system and temporarily paralysing his lungs, winding him. 

He kicked back and forth, his arms and legs working faster than usual in their attempts to keep him afloat, his chin continually ducking back underwater as the crushing waves placed pressure over every surface of his body. His mouth filled with the taste of blood, eyes stinging with the contact of salt water and head pounding with the stress of everything that just occured. He could still hear the vaguely familiar shouts of the captain from the deck, but the rushing water in and out of his ears made it hard to focus on that particular sound. 

His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe, the pressure being placed against him becoming overwhelming. His already exhausted arms grew even more tired and he struggled to force his legs to continue kicking, the muscles straining in their current efforts. Eventually, he conceded, halting all movement, taking one last huge deep breath in, and letting the cold water rush over him. It pulled him down, rushing over his head and into his ears. His nose stung with the feeling of water in it, and his lungs hurt with the strain of holding his breath for as long as he had. He didn't have the energy to go back up for air, nor the energy to continue fighting for his life. 

The pros and cons of giving in rushed through his head, memories of his life before he became a pirate, when he used to sit in his small house with his mother, watching her sew and tailor clothes for the noblewomen, earning very little for what her efforts were worth. He remembered chasing his dad down the street during their weekly grocery shop, a basket of bread held in one of his hands as his red eyes scanned the streets for a place to hide. He was brought back to the feelings of love and comfort he had in his own home, the feeling of belongingness he had when he first met Captain Aizawa, and the way the shaggy, black haired man offered him a job, a home away from home that the blonde hadn’t known he needed. 

He was then reminded of the crew on his ship, and how they sent him crude looks and made sneaky comments regarding his personality, isolating him from the rest of them. He remembered sitting by himself on the other side of the room, plate in hand, eyes staring down at it as he contemplated why he agreed to join Aizawa on his trip around the world. He could feel the glares sent his way, digging into his back as he methodically chewed on his food, the taste like cardboard as he fought for reasons to stay on the ship with his mentor. 

And the worst part of the dejection he felt at the exclusion, was that it was deserved. 

As Katsuki was brought back to the freezing predicament he was in, he could no longer hold his breath. The water forced its way down his throat and up his nose, infiltrating his lungs, freezing him from the inside out. He flung himself around in the water, kicking and fighting for breath subconsciously, before closing his eyes, relaxing his muscles and surrendering himself to the icy depths of the ocean. 

As his lungs continued to fill with ocean water, and his mind started to go fuzzy with the threat of unconsciousness, he was overcome with a sense of relief. He felt like maybe this way, the people he had dedicated the past 6 months of his life to could continue on their journey peacefully, without having to worry about the asshole that was Bakugou Katsuki.

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