warnings: this story contains major character death, self harm, implied sexual content, and dark themes. read at your own risk.

Prologue

People are like dynamites, Tadashi remembers his little brother tell him this. He was young, but his huge head was stored with knowledge beyond his own perception it made him more proud that his little brother was gifted with something so beautiful.

People are like dynamites. We are little sticks jam-packed with chemicals. The little things that we collect in ourselves turn explosive, from a painful memory, to a person who's impacted in our lives, to little things who reminds us who we really are is stored inside of us. Until we find the right moment to explode, to let loose and lose full control of everything we hold dear. It could be a perfect moment that sets us off, or maybe there's a time bomb inside of us that ticks away to explode at just the right time. Maybe even a person could set us off.

They say it's beautiful when you reach that exploding point, where everything is just a flicker of bright works of fire and an unspeakable magical moment. Of swirling lights and nitroglycerin mixtures burning fast and scintillating. But it's only a matter of time before you lose your light, before it all flickers away and dies without a trace into the night sky clouded with nothing but the leftovers of a once sizzling fire is seared into the memory of your spectators, the ones who are there to experience your burst.

People are like dynamites, Hiro said once. Or maybe even fireworks.

Tadashi wished people weren't.

a/n: hi! long time no write/update! this story has been in my head for a while, and I wanted to try writing for this ship. and yes, I'll still try to finish my other stories. this is for you, andrea. I hope you all enjoy.