He woke in the morning and quickly found out this place was completely fucked up. That was with the sun up. Now the sun's down, he's had a whole day here, and after the rush of learning, has decided this place MAJORLY completely fucked up. With no way home from the looks of it. The few people he's met have left him in a whiplash of exhaustion and anxious adrenaline that's one part dying to lie down and sleep, one part too razzed up to rest.

Out here on the sand, in a quiet area of the beach, Bakugo's staked out a small place for himself. There's some comfort in the darkness and the stars, a moment for his mind to relax as he leans back against the tree behind him. Some constellations are the same as the ones in the skies back home, but it's not as pleasant when he knows it's fake. When the fireworks start, he takes some small reprieve in them... before even those turn into a crass display. Ugh.

Ignoring the larger lights, Bakugo pulls out a few small boxes he purveyed from some of the beach-side attractions. There's the sound of sparks, as if a tiny spitting collection of pops flare up, before a subtle breathy hiiisssth sees a sparkler stick light up. You're never too old for a sparkler. It's a better entertainment than the risque show up there.