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It was supposed to be nothing.
A minor incident with a minor villain who had panicked when he had been cornered. Kirishima and Amajiki had boxed him in and the fear caused the man to act irrationally, lashing out at the young hero’s in terror. Kirishima had approached him and just as he thought that the man was surrendering, he had reached into his pocket and thrown a cloud of red dust right in Kirishima’s face. The powder had done nothing but sprinkle his cheeks with ruby glitter. It was completely harmless and didn’t stop the now rather annoyed Red Riot from approaching. The crook had looked just about ready to piss his pants when the Study Hero wasn’t deterred in the least, barrelling straight through the smoke screen like it was nothing because it was supposed to be nothing.
When the villain had thrown the rosy dust, Kirishima had gasped in surprise before instantly holding his breath to try to avoid taking a huge inhale, it was best to avoid the potentially hazardous fumes. However, his surprised inhale had betrayed him, Kirishima had ended up breathing in a good lungful of the powder. He remembered thinking that it was a little abnormal that the smoke hadn’t even made him cough. There had been a slightly weird smell but other than that, it had been just like normal breathing; no tickling in his throat, no burning or choking and the second that the villain was down and restrained Fat Gum was instantaneously by his side, so fast that it almost seemed like he’d teleported.
“I’m alright Fat” Kirishima had tried to brush him off but the pro hero had simply drawn up to his fullest height, a good three feet above the red-headed teen, before demanding that Kirishima get checked out by the first responders just in case. Sure enough, nothing had come back. The doctor had leaned back in his chair when Kirishima had been directed to the hospital by the paramedics, he’d studied the young boys face and shrugged his shoulders helplessly.
“It appears to be completely harmless, we’ve run several scans, and nothing seems out of the ordinary. No abnormalities detected in your lungs, heart or brain. For all intents and purposes, you are a healthy young man. However, if you do start feeling even slightly irregular go straight to the hospital, okay?” Kirishima wanted to wave him off, to dismiss the worries because he was fine, but a glance at his senpai and mentor told him that he should be taking this situation far more seriously.
Amajiki was the first to catch his gaze, his senpai was always nervous. Muscles wound tight like a bow string ready to snap at any moment. His eyes would dart this way and that, not fully absorbing anything but not leaving any factor unchecked either. His knuckles would be white where they clutched at opposite elbows and his posture would be all crooked and hunched like he was trying to hide from the world. But right now, was different, his posture was still curled up like an aging piece of paper but in this instance his hands were by his sides, fists clenched tightly, and his eyes locked firmly onto the machine that was still hooked up to Kirishima, his heartbeat sending shrill echoes throughout the room. Upon further inspection, Kirishima could see that Tamaki was syncing his breathing with the monitor.
Beep. In. Beep. Out. Beep. In. Beep. Out.
Fat Gum wasn’t much better, the easy smile on his face doing nothing to hide the obvious worry coating his expression. Concern oozed from him like molasses, thick and overpowering. His muscles were taught like a live wire and he kept his gaze firmly on Kirishima’s face while he had answered the doctor’s numerous questions about his wellbeing, as if he were trying to weed out any lies that Kirishima might be telling. One hand rested gently on Tamaki’s back, smoothing the younger’s anxious quivering, the other hand rested on his knee where it bounced nervously against the pristine tile and Kirishima hardened his resolve before turning back to the doctor.
“I will sir. Thank you for your concern” He answered sincerely, bowing deeply to the doctor who answered with a light bow of his own, out of the corner of his eye he watched Fat Gum relax slightly and although Amajiki didn’t- it was impossible for him to do so considering the circumstances- Kirishima could still feel the relief at knowing that his red-haired co-worker was actually taking this seriously.
Red Riot just barely refrained from rolling his eyes, he still wanted to be a hero, he wasn’t Bakugou or Midoriya. He wasn’t going to risk his health unnecessarily whether it be because of pride- the former- or ridiculous amounts of genuine heroism- the latter though Bakugou, to be fair, was slowly getting there. After all, there was nothing to gain from lying to the doctor and purposefully sabotaging his own wellbeing. Let alone the heaps of worry that he would receive from such an act. No, if he genuinely felt bad he would have asked to go to the hospital because self-care was manly no matter how much people claimed that being vulnerable was a weakness.
He’d then been personally escorted back to Yuuei and even then, the pro-hero had made sure that he was actually inside of his dorm before fully relaxing.
“You really scared us hatchling.” Kirishima grinned brightly at the nickname and leaned into the gentle hand that Fat Gum placed on his head, “but you did really well and I’m proud of you Red.” Kirishima blushed happily, he’d never get used to someone who he really looked up to (some would say that he was an idol of Kirishima’s and he would be hard-pressed to disagree because Fat Gum was cool and so manly!) complimenting him. Out of the corner of his eyes Kirishima caught a shimmer of movement and the pair instantly looked over. Several heads stuck out from behind the wall up the corridor. Upon seeing that their eavesdropping wasn’t going unnoticed the students vanished with a squeak and a couple of muffled giggles and Kirishima couldn’t help but smile fondly.
Fat Gum seemed to find their antics equally amusing as he shook his head and laughed good-naturedly. Even Amajiki- who’d been hovering anxiously in the doorway- seemed to unwind a little and Kirishima cast a small smile at his upperclassman, making sure to keep his gaze as soft and unintimidating as possible. He was rewarded for his efforts by a small shaky smile of Tamaki’s own before it flattened into a more serious expression.
“Remember to go straight to Recovery Girl if you start to feel ill, or funny, or different. And you have my number, so you can call me, and you have Fat’s and-” Kirishima couldn’t help the breathless laugh that tumbled from his lips. His senpai blushed, embarrassed that he was smothering the younger and Fat Gum laughed again, soothing the elder with a gentle hand on his shoulder before turning back to Kirishima as his eyes hardened. Before the hero could even open his mouth to repeat Amajiki’s sentiment Kirishima beat him to it.
“I promise on my honour that if something goes wrong that I will tell someone straight away.” Fat Gum smiled softly and rubbed his head one more time
“You’re a good kid Red.” With that Fat Gum shepherded Amajiki out the door and Kirishima closed it behind them with an air of finality. The moment that the door clicked shut he was flooded by his classmates and Kirishima greeted them with a sheepish grin.
“Dude where have you been?”
“Kiri your so late! Did you run into trouble!”
“Was that Fat Gum?!”
“What does ‘if you feel funny’ even mean?”
The red-head looked around the crowd, a little overwhelmed before a certain mop of crazy blond hair weaved through the sea of students and coming to stop a few inches away. Bakugou was scowling, his usual moodiness reflected perfectly in the hunch in his shoulders and the curl of his lip and Kirishima couldn’t help but smile at his sort-of-boyfriend gently.
“The fuck took you so long Shit-for-brains”
“I…” Kirishima hesitated for a second too long because the class almost started up with the questions again before the red-head cut through the din. “I- don’t freak out- had to stop off at the hospital.” The silence that followed was deafening in its own right. A few select faces looked far more horrified than others. Kaminari for one was instantly at his side, the colour draining from his face as the dark blond checked him for wounds. Kirishima felt Sero close in near his back and Mina inched a little closer to him, watching his face with an intensity that might make him slightly uncomfortable if he were a lesser man.
Bakugou’s expression was the one that he zeroed in on however. The blond had tilted his head just the tiniest bit, his lip promptly dropping to cover his teeth and effectively took all of the bite out of the expression. Now Bakugou was regarding him with a furrowed brow, a gentle scowl (by Bakugou’s standards and only Bakugou standards), and an intensity that burned bright behind his eyes.
“Some guy threw some stuff in my face but it didn’t do anything. The hospital checked it out and I’m perfectly fine.” At that many of the students around him relaxed, Kaminari slapped him on the shoulder and Mina laughed light heartedly.
“Did you get him?” Sero asked excitedly and Kirishima twisted to smile broadly at the tape-user,
“You betcha!” The response was met with a whoop from some of the more excitable classmates while others congratulated Kirishima more formally.
“Man!” Kaminari whined, hanging off his friend’s shoulder as they dragged the red-head towards the living room, “you get to do all the cool stuff! I bet this is gonna get in the papers!” Kirishima laughed and slumped down on the coach when they shoved him towards it.
“I dunno man, he was small time. You should have seen his face when we came around the corner.” He was met with laughter all round and from that point onwards the evening seemed to sink into a more normal day. Kirishima was grateful for it, while it was nice to know that those around him cared deeply for his wellbeing, class 1-A was known to be a little overwhelming when all of their focus was pinpointed on a single location.
Kirishima had arrived in the post-dinner time haze and before he could even begin to make his way towards the cupboards to draw out something incredibly lazy, a steaming bowl was placed in front of him. The red-head blinked dumbly at the bowl before he tracked the hand upwards to its owner. In hindsight it was obviously going to be Bakugou as the only ones that would go out of their way to feed him were Sero- and honestly? Bless whatever holy being brought the raven-haired boy into the world. He was undeniably sweet and caring too and Kirishima really appreciated it…. But cooking really wasn’t his strongest suit (he would add way too many herbs to it, and the only one that was worse at cooking than Hanta in the dorm was Todoroki and since an incident in the first few weeks the heterochromatic teen had been banned from the kitchen with written permission from Aizawa-sensei)- and Bakugou. The latter had a considerable lean towards spicy foods which suited Kirishima’s palate just fine so when the bowl was shoved aggressively towards him Kirishima dug right in- not one to deny such a rare treat from the Almighty Bakugou-sama.
Bakugou sat down across from him and pulled out his phone while the other members of the self-proclaimed Baku-squad seated themselves around the table in an intimate gathering.
“Did Fat Gum tell you when you’re next going out with him?” Sero asked,
“Nah,” Kirishima answered, receiving a disgusted glare from Bakugou and a fond eye-roll from Sero when he didn’t wait until he finished his mouthful.
“Gross Shitty-Hair.” Kirishima stuck his tongue out at the blond and laughed at the mock-offended splutter it got him.
“Did I miss anything?” He asked no one in particular, still a little more focused on his food rather than the conversation but it was always best to put in an effort.
“Dude.” Mina cackled evilly before leaning forwards on her elbows. That did catch Kirishima’s attention and the way that Denki’s eyes glittered mischievously told him that he was about to be taken on an emotional rollercoaster of a story.
“So, I heard from Hagakure-” oh, it was more gossip then? Ah well, Kirishima couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy it. Talking behind other’s backs wasn’t very manly, however it was valuable to learn more about the other Yuuei students given the opportunity. “-who heard from Jaden, you know the one with the hearing quirk in the business course, that they are thinking about moving someone up from the general studies course into the Hero course.” Kirishima chewed thoughtfully for a moment, “and everyone has been seeing Aizawa-sensei hanging around with Shinso- you know the one from the sports festival- and so the rumour is that Shinso might be moving up but that means that someone is going to have to move down.” Huh. Well, that was Yuuei for you, insistent on throwing constant curveballs at their students.
“Really?” Mina nodded energetically,
“Yeah so one of us might get kicked out but there are some spare rooms upstairs so maybe we all get to stay but I dunno… Aizawa-sensei is always plotting something.” Bakugou rolled his eyes at the gossip, clearly tuning it out and focussing on Kirishima’s face as he ate (are you okay?). The red-head instantly recognised the smouldering gaze and returned it viciously. Kirishima lifted the chopsticks higher, look a large bite from his meal and smiled widely at his companion (I’m okay) who huffed and laid his chin on his folded arms, clearly content with the silent interaction.
Kirishima tilted his head at the blond, trying to read his expression but it was certainly an off one. Bakugou, at the core, was a strange oxymoron of a human being. The most righteous of intentions and strongest of wills paired with a nasty attitude and a vindictive spite. He was one big clash of traditionally right and traditionally wrong that left him in a strange grey moral area. But his constant at war tendencies often made it incredibly hard for Kirishima to read him, especially in moments like these; quiet scenes where the blond appeared calm and sated. Bakugou only ever did things with a 100% drive, not a semblance of indecisiveness anywhere in the boy’s body and as such he usually had such boldly defined motives but occasionally the lines blurred and Kirishima was left in the dark, but he thinks that Bakugou likes it that way.
“-shima! Dude!” Instantly his crimson gaze snapped over to Kaminari, blinking at him expectantly. The blond was watching him with a tiny frown while Mina quietly bragged
“I’m winning.”
“What the fuck are you talking about Raccoon-Eyes?” Bakugou growled though all of the occupants at the table knew that there was absolutely no heat behind it.
“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over.” The pinkette smiled innocently, patting Bakugou on the head and laughing when the explosion-wielder wrenched himself out of her reach, screeching about not messing up his hair. Ashido and Kaminari exploded into laughter and Sero followed straight after, he had tried to hold it in at first but a combination of Bakugou’s affronted expression, Mina and Denki’s giggling and Midoriya jumping a good two feet in the air from across the room had him laughing too. Kirishima cracked a grin but stopped before he could fully start laughing because Bakugou was giving him that look again.
The one that was completely and utterly indecipherable to everyone bar Bakugou himself. Kirishima tilted his head at him, a voiceless question and Bakugou immediately turned his gaze away, frowning bitterly.
Once he had finished his meal, the five of them migrated to the living room to sit with the rest of class 1-A. The girls were playing some form of truth or dare while the boys cheered from the side-lines. Bakugou and Kirishima sat side by side on the end of the couch, thighs pressed together and shoulders brushing constantly.
“It doesn’t make sense.” Everyone’s attention was still transfixed on the game, Kirishima turned to his friend, raising a lone eyebrow at the sudden announcement. “The powder I mean.” Bakugou continued, his voice was quiet enough so that Kirishima was sure that he was the only one that could hear and frowned at his friend.
“Dude,” he whispered back, leaning a little closer to his friend “I told you that the doc said there’s nothing to worry about.” Bakugou tensed next to him, anger flashing in his eyes
“But that makes no sense, why would it do nothing?! Use your brain shitty-hair.” Kirishima felt a frown begin to etch itself onto his face.
“Maybe it wasn’t made properly, it might have been faulty or it could have just been a smoke screen to try and escape.”
“You’re so dumb.” Bakugou growled and Kirishima scowled, affronted at the sudden aggression. He knew deep down that this was just Bakugou’s worry rearing its ugly head, but he couldn’t help but feel annoyed by the sudden coldness. He was tired and a headache was starting to build behind his left eye.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” Bakugou snarled,
“Cause you don’t mean it.” Kirishima responded hotly, he knew that people were beginning to look but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Bakugou was calm just a moment ago and now he was calling him names even though they had talked about this at the start of their sort-of relationship. They hadn’t gone out on a date yet but they were meant to this weekend. Kirishima had been excited and they’d had a long messy talk about feelings and there had been a few tears but they had both come out of it feeling better than they had in a long time.
“What if I do?!” Bakugou snapped back, Kirishima stood up abruptly and Bakugou stood to meet him, the two suddenly nose-to-nose. If class 1-A hadn’t previously noticed the interaction, they had now, the conversations tapering off into silence as they watched the two squares off.
“Let’s just take a minute,” Sero laughed nervously, gently putting a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder to try and ease him off. The red-head ignored him, glaring at Bakugou with a ferocity that usually only appeared on the battlefield.
“Everyone needs to calm down.” Iida piped up from the other side of the room, standing so that he could run over in case the two decided to settle this physically. Midoriya appeared at Bakugou’s side, he carefully avoided touching him though, a wise choice to be sure as the blond was scowling with full force now.
“Come on dude,” Kaminari appeared on his other side, carefully winding his fingers around Kirishima’s wrist before pulling gently. The unexpected movement had the red-head stumbling back a little bit before righting himself, it was enough to break the tension and for Bakugou to go storming off down the hallway in a huff. Kirishima watched him go, the pain behind his eye twitching and writhing obnoxiously. “You okay?” Kaminari asked, squeezing his wrist slightly, worried golden eyes scanning the entirety of his face. Sero leaned over his other shoulder, brows furrowed as he waited for Kirishima’s response.
“Yeah, dunno what came over me.” Kirishima offered his friends a weak smile and Kaminari smiled back, far more relaxed now. Sero still looked more than a little apprehensive
“No worries man, you’re probably just tired! You were running around the city all day. I’d be a bit grumpy too.” Hanta nodded along, using his grip on Kirishima’s shoulder to direct him in the direction of the stairs.
“Go rest. I’ll come check on you later, kay?” Kirishima rolled his eyes,
“Sure mum.” The raven rolled his eyes, pushing Kirishima a little more forcefully this time and the red-head barked out a short burst of laughter before conceding and shouting a quick ‘night guys!’ before he headed up to his room.
The walk was slow and quiet and the longer it took the worse Kirishima began to feel. He knew that Bakugou was just worried about him, knew that he wasn’t very good at showing his emotions and that he struggled when it came to being gentle with those close to him, and yet… Kirishima groaned, resting his head on his door before turning to gaze to look at Bakugou’s. He should apologise- not right now because Bakugou wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion on his personal space while he was pissed off- but later. In the morning. And then they can go get ice cream and can go on a walk along the beach and it’ll all be okay.
Kirishima blew a deep sigh onto the wood before pushing his door open, changing into his pyjama bottoms and flinging himself into bed without a shirt. It was winter but the indoor heating was doing its job much more effectively than Kirishima had thought it would. He buried his head into the pillow and sighed again before closing his eyes.
He’d fix it in the morning.
//////
The world seemed to pulse in tune with his own stuttering heartbeat. Colours swirls sickeningly, running and smudging together like someone threw a glass of water on a freshly finished painting, the once vibrant and beautiful shades melting into each other in a sickening mix of hues that were so animated that it caused his retinas to burn.
Bursts of hot and cold raked up and down his back in violent blows that caused Kirishima to shift between feeling like he was boiling alive in his own skin and the distinct sensation of frost crawling up his bare arms.
His muscles screeched in protest when he shivered, the very marrow of his bones quaking as the muscles around it melted, his limbs burning and freezing, the nerves buzzing right under his skin as if they were trying to crawl away from the agony; thrashing and writhing and vibrating beneath the thin layer.
His heart felt like a drum, beating against his ribs hard enough to break them, arrhythmic and erratic. Ba-boom…. Ba-boom…boom, boom, bang bang bang. It took his breath away in its intensity, leaving him gasping with lungs that felt full of water, heavy and spluttering.
The sensation was so powerful, drowning him in its concentration, that it took a moment for Kirishima to fully come back to awareness. Even then it felt as if there was still a veil between him and his body. He tried to twitch his fingers- a small movement to test the waters. It was like dipping his hand in acid, the muscles twitched and burned, spasming in pain before he forced the muscles to relax.
That was until his stomach rolled in a very familiar way, Kirishima rolled, head hanging limply over the side of the bed as he vomited, the splash of liquid against the floor sounding like a roaring ocean in his sore ears. He cracked his eyes open to see a fascinating mix of old food and blood staining his floorboards. Kirishima watched at the blood vibrated in time with his heartbeat, almost as if it were still a part of him. The red stained his vision so that even as when he scrunched his eyes closed, the lids were stained a brilliant scarlet that made his head pulse in time with his sporadic pulse.
You need to move dumbass!
A voice rang through his ears, sounding suspiciously like Bakugou and Kirishima knew it was right. But the pain was dizzying, throwing him completely off kilter.
MOVE!
The Voice was so loud this time that Kirishima was sure that someone was in the room with him, in a burst of strength he jolted upright, tumbling out of his sheets and hitting the floor with a thunk. The burn escalated to a sickening crescendo that seared his flesh and bone until he was sure that there was nothing left. But he couldn’t give up now, he was already part way there so- drawing from a strength that he didn’t know he processed- he bent up onto his knees, aware of the fact that he could barely breathe through the pain.
By the time that he reached the door, Kirishima was completely out of breath and he was sure that he had passed out at least once during the short journey from the bed to the door but honestly? He couldn’t be completely sure because there were black spots lazily dancing in his vision, the pain causing them to vibrate and shimmer in and out of existence.
It was like setting a piece of paper aflame, the white curling in on itself, turning yellow and then black before completely vanishing from existence. Kirishima wished he could vanish, to hide from the world and for his mind to disconnect from his body. But as he lay there, panting and still, images crept up into the forefront of his mind.
The worried scowl on Bakugou’s face when he’d recounted the details of the mission he’d been on. The wild giggle that Kaminari let out when he’d pranked Bakugou earlier that week, eyes glittering with mischievous intention. The soft smile that Sero had sent him when he saw Kirishima’s modified suit for the first time, grinning at the sleeves with a knowing look. The way that Ashido had excitedly greeted him upon her arrival at class 1-A for the first time “I didn’t know that you applied here Kirishima-kun! It’s sure nice to see a familiar face!”. The first tiny smile that Amajiki-senpai had gifted him and Fat Gum’s gentle hug when he had gotten out of the hospital. The images heightened in frequency and clarity blurring together into one big mess that made him feel so warm inside. He was loved. He was cared for. And that was all the motivation that Kirishima needed.
With a strength that he didn’t know he had, the red-head pushed his way up onto his hands and knees, scrunching his eyes up at the pain but not stopping, not now because he remembered what he was fighting for.
It was a real task to even reach up for the door handle, his legs were shaking so badly that it took a few tries to even get a good grasp. Never had Kirishima felt more thankful that the door opens outwards, he tumbled unrestrained into the hall, muscles taut and shivering. For a moment the red-head laid prone, trying to will down the whimpers that threatened to break loose from his ruined throat. Not far to go now, just a little more, he just needed to get to Bakugou’s door, just a little further. Kirishima hadn’t even noticed that he was crying, tears wetting his cheeks, but he ignored it. Now wasn’t the time.
Bakugou’s door was right there. Just a little further, just a little further. The red-head pulled his arms underneath him and pushed. His body weight felt a thousand times what it should be, burning bones like concrete and blood like mercury. He crashed into the wall, all of the breath being stolen from his lungs. It wasn’t a particularly strong impact but it was one that whited out his vision and stole the oxygen from his organs. He sat there, leaned against the wall, eyes closed and ears ringing uncomfortably.
A warm hand descended on his shoulder, shaking it aggressively and Kirishima couldn’t restrain the groan of pain that escaped his throat. He should probably open his eyes to look his saviour in the face but he felt so deathly ill. His chest burned with every breath, searing fire burning his nerves and charring his flesh. It hurt. The touch hurt and now his throat was hurting, his chest was being shredded from the inside out. The touch instantly vanished but the pain didn’t, persisting and pressing until it felt as if he was drowning.
“-hima! Ei- God please” That voice… Kirishima kept his eyes closed using all of his energy to squash the ringing in his ears, to hear the voice more clearly because it made him feel so safe. There was a moment when the ringing became unbearably load before it died down enough for Kirishima to properly hear, there was The Voice still muttering and shrill with panic, but now Kirishima could hear another noise, working in partnership with The Voice while being apart from it. It was a truly horrific pathetic sound. It imitated a tortured animal, whimpering sobs that sounded like they were being grated along a gravel surface laden with sharp rocks and shattered glass, the noise becoming ragged and torn from the imaginary abuse. The second that Kirishima became aware of it, the sound tapered off and the voice grew ever more frantic.
It sounded like Bakugou, but it wasn’t. Bakugou never sounded that fearful, never prayed or begged or yielded. He was never scared in front of his foes and he would lock all of that fear up inside, tight and locked away so that even as he was having a panic attack he would try his best to remain completely composed, using anger- of course- but Kirishima was constantly taken aback by the level of self-control that Bakugou always exhibited. He’d tried to point this out to the others on multiple occasions and he had gotten thoroughly mocked by his three other friends. It was all in fun and Kirishima couldn’t help but snort as Mina and Denki took turns trying to disprove his perception using exaggerated scenarios.
But the voice persisted, determined though the fear, pushing through it as if it were an adversary rather than an ancient survival technique and that was a Bakugou-esque trait. Even if it wasn’t Bakugou, even if he was hearing his friend’s voice in his head for the second time that night, that touch was real. There was no way that such agony could appear passively. So Kirishima summoned the final dregs of energy, a well that was rapidly depleting, and peeled his heavy eyelids open. He decided that he must be having visual hallucinations to go along with his auditory ones because kneeled on the floor was Bakugou.
The hallucination seemed to breathe a deep sigh of relief that ripped from his chest before he leaned forwards. Kirishima didn’t flinch or move away but Bakugou stopped anyway, hand lingering merely centimetres from the skin. He hesitated before drawing away and leaning down to stare straight into Kirishima’s eyes.
The flash of crimson was a lighthouse in a world of fuzzy grey that blinked in and out of existence, the writhing sea of unconsciousness shoving him aggressively under the water and the only way that he could come up for air was to follow that light, to go towards Bakugou. Kirishima kept his eyes locked on that bright colour, drinking it in, thirsty for the sense of comfort that they brought. Even though he felt completely disconnected from his body, the red-head was still able to force a smile onto his face, was still able to breathe out his name and as soon as the whispery breath passed his lips Bakugou relaxed; minutely but at least that was some sort of improvement.
“Eijiro, what the fuck is wrong?” The volume was toned down but it still felt as if his ear drums were being drilled with high powered screwdrivers, it wasn’t comfortable but it was no where near the level of pain that he attained before. Bakugou gazed at him expectantly and Kirishima blearily recognised that he was waiting for an answer, a verbal confirmation as to the state of his well-being. The red-head wet his lips before parting them and forcing his voice through the pain
“Hurts” Bakugou looked rightfully alarmed at the words, leaning forwards so that his hot breath could scorch its way along Kirishima’s exposed collarbone.
“Where Ei?” The blond inched closer, hands twitching with the itching need to scoop his friend up close and the obvious gesture brought another agonising smile to Kirishima’s face, Bakugou looked at him with wide eyes and Kirishima had to giggle at his expression, the sound coming out mangled and hysterical sounding,
“Everywhere. Hurts every-” Before he had the chance to finish a sour taste pressed into his mouth and Kirishima only had enough time to turn away from his friend before he vomited straight onto the floor, this time it was wholly blood, crimson liquid running in rivulets down his mouth to caress his throat and collar bones.
“Shit!” Bakugou’s shout was drowned by the sound of Kirishima’s painful retching, the blond darted forwards when he witnessed the way that Kirishima’s arms shook from the strain. He pulled the red-head close and cradled him until Kirishima was finished, panting and sweating like he did after a particularly hard work out. The blond was shaking too, Kirishima hadn’t noticed until he felt Bakugou’s arms lock around his chest and hold him up as the red-head’s body collapsed against his friend- weak as a kitten and shaking like an earthquake. He was so tired, it would be so easy to just close his eyes and- “Stay awake shit-face.” The brash tone shocked Kirishima back into wakefulness, “I’ll never forgive your stupid face if you die on me.” Bakugou hoisted his friend into his arms, Kirishima yelling as his skin stretched and pulled, feeling as if it might just snap from the simple movement.
//////
The following hour was an excruciating blur, the pain worsening and worsening while his muscles spasmed as lightning bolts sliced through the tendons, alighting his body with torturous energy. His brain whirred and shrieked inside of his skull, desperately throwing itself at the white walls again and again, clawing at its cage like a rabid animal. Brilliant lights flashed in front of his eyes, a contained rainbow of flashes and bursts that made his retinas curl away from the violent intrusion. His ears bled from a shrieking that may or may not be a figment of his imagination, it was an ear-piercing howl that didn’t let up for even a second, his ear drums wailing from the pressure, adding more and more sound until it felt as if he’d never be able to hear again.
Kirishima was pretty sure he was screaming too, there was no way he wasn’t. Not when he was in the purest form of agony, it was as if all the pain he’d ever experienced in his life was refined and purified into a white hot- blinding suffering. At the very edge of his awareness he could hear people, nearly silent under the screaming in his ears.
“Kirishima!”
“Turn him-”
“He’s seizing-”
“Call Recovery Girl!”
He felt as if he was suspended in a non-existence. His whole world boiled down to the skin on his body, senses obsolete against the sheer mass of agony, and then it was gone. No gentle weaning, one second, he was being dipped in acidic lava and the next he was floating in an empty abyss and all of a sudden Kirishima wanted the ache back, it was unendurable and yet it was far preferable to the all encapsulating darkness that swarmed his vision now.
He was underwater, unable to breathe, unable to see, unable to hear or feel and it was terrifying. He was sure that he’d be hyperventilating if he was able to respire but he couldn’t. There was no light, no heat and Kirishima was scared, he felt cowardly but a thought niggled at the back of his head. He must have died; this never-ending blackness must be death. This wasn’t the afterlife that Kirishima had pictured. His dad came from the West, he was religious and brought his children up that way too. Kirishima wasn’t sure if he believed in ‘God’, he didn’t like the idea that people could pass of their terrible actions on some higher power. But at the same time, it was nice to imagine that there was something after death, a pearly paradise to retreat to once he finished on earth. But there were no pearly gates, no white light. Just blackness and nothingness.
He wanted to curl in on himself, to wrap his arms around in a comforting embrace but Kirishima wasn’t sure if he even had a body, it felt as if his brain had been plucked straight from his form, one fell swoop leaving him without a vessel to inhabit. He wondered if the others would miss him, considered whether Bakugou would forgive him for their fight- oh and Bakugou. They’d never be able to go on that date, and above everything else that made him want to sob.
He’d wanted to do so many things with Bakugou, wanted to graduate together, to work together, to move in together and to celebrate their first anniversary and their second and every one until they were old and gross and Bakugou would probably shout at kids to get off his lawn while Kirishima would hand out candies and tell them not to worry and that he was just getting grumpy in his old age.
But all of that was lost, dissolving into the blackness and disappearing. Kirishima felt his chest squeeze, or maybe not because he didn’t have a chest, did he? No, there was definitely more of a tangibility now, he could feel his chest and his fingers and then he was awake. Light flooding his senses and blinding him with its intensity. He would throw a hand up to cover his face from the light if he could, but they felt as if they were weighted with cement, heavy and useless by his sides. Well, one was. The other was encased in warmth, gripped so tightly that Kirishima was surprised that he could still feel his fingers.
He tried desperately to move his limbs, to twitch them even a little and to tell the person holding him so tightly that he was awake. But he just couldn’t. He tried again, focusing on just his index finger, willing it to move and yet he yielded no results. Kirishima couldn’t even sigh through his frustrations. All he could do was lie prone and allow the machine to breathe for him.
“Bakugou.” If he could, Kirishima would have jumped from the sudden voice. It was almost unrecognisable but upon further inspection Kirishima came to the conclusion that it was Kaminari. He’d never heard the dark blond sound so lifeless, he spoke in a quiet voice that rasped at the end. A tell-tale sign that he’d been crying and Kirishima suddenly felt awful.
“What?” The hand tightened around his and Bakugou’s voice was muffled by something, he was sitting next to him, holding his hand.
“It’s been 4 days dude.” Kaminari sounded utterly drained, voice cracking and breaking with strain. “You gotta go get changed or something, wash at least?” Kirishima was floored, he’d been asleep for the better part of a week, and apparently Bakugou had been at his side the whole time.
“Not until he wakes up.” Bakugou often resembled a petulant child, but it was never usually this blatant. He heard Kaminari sigh before he padded over, a slightly cold hand coming to rest over his forehead.
“Sorry my man. Rude to not even say hi.” Kirishima felt his insides glow warm with affection, when he was able to get up he’d have to treat his best friend to something really cool. Maybe he could buy tickets to that rock concert next year that Kaminari had been going on about. The blond brushed his hair away from his forehead, humming quietly before turning back to Bakugou. “You know that he’d want you to take care of yourself. He’d be upset if he knew that you aren’t.” He wasn’t wrong, Kirishima wasn’t happy and the way that Bakugou sighed signalled that he knew it too.
“What if he wakes up while I’m gone?”
“Then I’ll call you straight back.” Kaminari promised, Bakugou shuffled before relenting. If his voice hadn’t given away his fatigue then the way that he caved easily certainly did. Kirishima heard the door swing open and closed, worry surging hot through his veins. His hand was cold where it laid against the sheets, abandoned and lonely until Kaminari picked it up, stroking his long fingers over the back in a comforting manner.
“Your boyfriend sure is a handful.” The blond spoke and Kirishima was sure that he’d be blushing if he could. Were they that obvious? “I’m mad at you.” Kaminari spoke again, “Mina, Sero and I had a bet and you let her win. You cheated me out of my money and I should be angry with you and demand a refund but…” the electric-user trailed off, teasing tone evaporating in the compressive atmosphere, “how about you wake up and we’ll call it quits yeah?” Kirishima wished to be able to respond. To scold his friend for making another bet and to sooth his worries, but he couldn’t. Kaminari sighed again, resuming his hair combing. “That’s okay,” he whispered. “just… please wake up soon?”
Kirishima wasn’t aware that he dozed off until he was startled back into his pseudo-wakefulness by a rather loud bang.
“Toyomitsu, please do not bang around.” Recovery Girl sounded incredibly tired, weary and exhausted and Kirishima felt the now familiar weight of guilt in his stomach.
“Sorry!” Fat Gum stuttered and Kirishima could almost see the awkward way that he would have to navigate through the small room. “How’s the Hatchling?” Kirishima felt a large hand come to rest on his forehead, coming gently though the now flattened spikes.
“Better.” Recovery Girl muttered, papers fluttering as she flicked through. “I don’t think that there will be any long-term nerve damage but it will be a while before he’s out on the streets again.” Kirishima wanted to groan, but the sound was trapped in his chest. Fat Gum did it for him.
“Red’s gonna hate that.” Recovery Girl’s shrug was audible,
“There’s unfortunately nothing I can do about that. This isn’t something that my quirk can just heal. The poison eroded away much of his integral infrastructure. The fact that he even survived is a miracle. He’ll recover, but it’s going to be a long recovery.” Kirishima felt his chest squeeze, how long was long. He didn’t have time for this, everyone progressed so quickly in class 1-A. When Bakugou and Midoriya had both been suspended from class it was an uphill battle for them both to catch up, Midoriya had only been away for a couple of days and Bakugou had barely been away for a week and yet they had both fallen behind on so much. Kirishima wasn’t like them, he wasn’t good with academic stuff, he wouldn’t be able to cram and absorb information in such a short time frame like their two resident rivals had. What if it took him weeks to get better? Months? How could he possibly even begin to catch up with everyone else, he’d barely be able to see their dust. And that was if he even woke up soon.
A gentle hand descended on his forehead, and Kirishima had never before been so thankful for Fat Gum.
“Hey hatchling, dunno if you can hear us but don’t ya worry. Your strong, you’ll make it through this. You always do.” Kirishima could’ve cried, would’ve hugged his mentor tightly and thanked him over and over for his unwavering support, but he couldn’t. Regardless of that fact, Fat’s words had reignited the fire that the pain had doused and the coma had smothered. He’d wake up, he’d catch up. Kirishima fell asleep to the soothing motion of fingers brushing through his hair and the knowledge that no matter what- he’d catch up.
The next time that he woke up was much like the first, a silent room with a warmth holding his hand. He instantly knew that it was Bakugou, some primal part of him recognised the boy instantly zoning in on his presence before noticing that they weren’t alone. There was the distant sounds of shuffling and scuffing. There was a weight on the end of the bed and the room felt a little more crowded than it did before. His guests were talking, soft voices interlacing the peaceful atmosphere, creating a gentle warmth that spread across Kirishima’s chest in a soft ripple. Their conversation flowed past his ears in soothing waves, words blurring together in a kaleidoscopic smoothness. None of the words sticking, but Kirishima wasn’t too worried. He’d found it particularly hard to follow along straight after awakening.
The red-head didn’t concern himself with trying to follow along, instead he focused on the heat surrounding his palm and fingers.
He held his breath, yet again focussing on just a single finger, just one finger, nothing more. With a great effort he squeezed, even the simple action was enough to completely wind him, but it did its job. Bakugou gasped, loud and unrestrained and the others immediately ceased their conversation.
“Eijiro?” Bakugou asked tentatively. Kirishima tried to summon up the energy to do it again, to squeeze that hand in his own but even that small action had ripped all of the energy from his body. As he sunk back down into the oceans of unconsciousness he distantly heard Bakugou whisper: “he squeezed my hand.”
//////
After that incident his awareness came back to him in waves. He was able to twitch and flex his fingers- though not on command as many had hypothesised. The recovery was slow and unbearably tedious, each day passing at a snail’s pace. Kirishima didn’t want to be in bed anymore. He wanted to be up and walking and training because he was sure that he had fallen way behind the others at this point. He was beyond frustrated, furious and boiling inside his own head because he had known that something was wrong. He’d had a headache, he’d snapped at Bakugou and had turned in far earlier than usual. They were all signs that he had blissfully ignored. He still hadn’t awoken from his sort-of coma. He didn’t think that the others knew that he could hear him, they talked unrestrained about how scared they were. It made him feel irreparably guilty, it was a pressure that never let up, increasing every time he hears one of his friends with a trembling voice and hands to match. It was those times that the hatred swelled to a crescendo. The self-hatred was a constant companion throughout the long hours. It only ever eased when he was in the company of his close fiends and luckily for him they delivered without him having to even ask- not that he could regardless, but they knew that he wouldn’t want to be alone.
Someone was nearly always with him, Bakugou predominantly but the others came too. Kirishima distinctly remembered Midoriya’s visit as the green-haired angel had taken the time to describe the flowers that he and his mother had brought for him. Tetsutetsu had also come to visit at some point, crying into the sheets for a good ten minutes before announcing that they would do so much training when Kirishima woke up.
Kaminari was at his side almost as often as Bakugou, holding his hand and chatting incessantly. Sometimes he brought his guitar, strumming it and playing little silly songs that he’d made up. He’d stay for hours, mostly joking and teasing but occasionally, when he and Kirishima were the only ones in the room, he’d break down into little hiccups, holding his friend’s hand in a bruising grip. Kirishima felt sick at those times, there was nothing that he could do to ease the heartache that he was causing and he would feel terrible as a result. It was almost a relief when Sero had slipped through the doorway and dragged Kaminari away. He could hear his blond friend’s sniffling down the hall and he felt awful.
The only solace that he could find was the fact that he knew that all of his classmates were all helping each other in his stead. They often came in pairs, the exception being the rest of the Bakusquad all of which didn’t have a problem with coming to see him independently. Mina always brushed his hair when she came, it was a little clumsy since she was having to hold him up with one hand and braid with the other but Kirishima felt so touched by even that little act. She braided his fringe out of the way, fully aware of the fact that Kirishima really didn’t like his hair to be in his face. Sero would burn incense, only when Recovery Girl was absent and he’d always sneak out before she could come back and scold him. Kirishima didn’t mind these more fleeting visits, the herbal scent would remain for hours, a soothing reminder of his raven-haired friend.
There would be times where whole groups of students would just come and sit with him, the most random assortments too. Koda and Ojiro had appeared at his bedside once. The quieter of the two had brought a rabbit and informed Kirishima in a shy murmur that the rabbit always made him feel better when he wasn’t feeling fell. Other than the quiet sounds of the bunny scuffling in the sheets before making a home on Kirishima’s collarbone- it was silence. A peaceful quiet, completely unlike the deafening emptiness whenever he was left alone. Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki and Midoriya often came together as well. The only girl in the group would chatter away to him while the boys all weighed in whenever she paused for breath. Occasionally her voice would hitch and Kirishima would be able to hear the tears in her voice but no one said anything about it, and its not like he could. Momo and Jiro also came to visit, the former would smooth out the sheets and talk to him in a gentle voice while Jiro played soft music.
The visits tended to bleed together, the passage of time becoming intangible. It felt as if he only existed when in the presence of another. It was a bizarre reality, one that made him value the little things in his life, like being able to turn over onto his side when in bed or being able to move whenever he wanted. He was sure that he’d be in a constant state of disarray if it weren’t for his wonderful friend who surrounded him with warmth through the entire experience.
Even some of the teachers came to see him, Aizawa sitting quietly in the chair beside the bed before leaving silently, All-Might came by a few times too, his presence was a comfort even if he was quieter than he was in class. Amajiki-senpai turned up too, Togata-senpai and Eri-chan tagging along too. The three sat by his bedside and talked about the news and what he’d been missing and Eri told him that she had drawn a picture for him and that she couldn’t wait for him to wake up and see it.
All of these instances had Kirishima’s heart feeling as if it was going to explode, so full of love and contentment that he could barely think straight. These were the moments that reminded him why he had crawled out of his bed to begin with. There was one incident, however, that unmistakably trumped all of those fragments.
It was Bakugou. Obviously, it was going to be Bakugou. Throughout his time at Yuuei, Bakugou was the one thing that always stuck out. A slash of colour in a monotone world, always in the forefront and blending everything into the background. The first time that Kirishima had seen the blond boy he’d been completely winded by how pretty he was, blood red eyes that were wide behind long eyelashes, untameable platinum blond hair that framed his strong features, broad shoulders and powerful hands. His personality was brutish, fierce and stand-offish, and yet Kirishima was able to squirm his way into one of the few miniscule cracks, making a home inside the other’s barriers.
It was a rare talent apparently, Midoriya had unabashedly stared when Kirishima leaned on his friend, his eyes wide and lips twitching into a near smile. As time passed the little fissure that Kirishima had wormed through grew in size; Kaminari, Ashido and Sero all squeezing in behind. It was truly nice to see Bakugou interact with the rest of his classmates. He made a clear effort to keep his temper under control and although he would slip after only a minute- it was still progress. Prominent enough for the whole class to take notice. Kirishima had been a little bit envious at first, seeing Bakugou spending time with his other friends, but he’d quickly abolished such an un-manly attitude. It wasn’t fair to Bakugou, he was clearly struggling and the last thing he needed was for Kirishima to get territorial. Additionally, envy wasn’t an attractive trait, especially in a hero.
Anyway, back to what was undoubtedly Kirishima’s favourite visit. He’d awoken to a pressure on his stomach, a hand clutching his and he knew that it was Bakugou immediately. His whole world narrowed down to the warmth of Bakugou’s presence. He was laid across him, breathing slowly and deeply. They laid there in the quiet and Kirishima huffed a deeper breath, holding it for a moment before his life support had him breathing in another gulp of air. The red-head hated the breathing machine, it was a simple mask that covered his nose and mouth and yet it felt rather- ironically- suffocating. Regardless with the warmth pressed into his side, it was easy to ignore the insistent press of plastic. His friend’s stillness indicated that he was asleep, Bakugou was rarely so still, he was a creature of movement and of personal space. Holding his hand was one thing, practically lying on top of him was another. Kirishima tried to sigh again, it was weak and rather unsatisfying, and god he missed sighing. A deep inhale that could signal any number of things. For most people, it was an indicator of exasperation or annoyance, for Kirishima it was- more often than not- a sound of contentment.
Bakugou, always one to ruin the moment, suddenly sprang up. Growling with some unidentifiable emotion. Kirishima found himself missing the warmth, wishing that he could tug Bakugou back down because his stomach felt cold without his partner’s heat, but he couldn’t and Bakugou didn’t. Kirishima found himself wondering why Bakugou had suddenly moved, what had propelled the boy to jump up so quickly.
“Ei?” Kirishima probably should’ve been surprised by the fact that Bakugou could tell that he was awake but all he could really feel was this bone deep sense of relief. It was overpowering, squeezing his heart tightly. “Hey shit-face,” Bakugou’s voice was quiet, soft even. There was still an edge, there always was with the blond, but the quieter tone is what gave him away. The blond stoked his cheek gently, catching one of the tears that had managed to slip out.
Bakugou leaned down, pressing his forehead to Kirishima’s. “you better wake up soon hair-for-brains. You owe me ice cream, remember?” Kirishima would have laughed out loud if he could and the way that Bakugou chuffed, breath flowing over Kirishima’s skin, told him that Bakugou knew it too. “Wake up soon.”
//////
After that Kirishima began making even more of an effort, determined to awaken soon. He’d fight though the darkness unrelentingly. Even if there was no one around, he’d try and flex his fingers, try to open his eyes.
Things started to look up. He felt far more aware of his surroundings, able to pick out if someone was in the room with him without their having to say anything. He moved his fingers more and more, moved his toes more and more. It was his eyes that were the problem. No matter how hard he concentrated they stayed glued shut, stubborn and frustrating.
He tried for hours to lift them, to no avail. Yet again, Bakugou was his saving grace. A credence against the darkness.
Bakugou had been holding his hand (an activity that he often participated in these days), talking him through the class notes that he had taken for him. This was quickly becoming routine, Bakugou would appear during lunch-times and straight after class and would talk him through all of their lessons that day. He’d tell Kirishima about the notes that he had already written up in preparation for when he was to wake because: ‘there’s no way you’re gonna fall behind shitty-hair. What the fuck would that say about me?!’
He’d been going through their English notes when Kirishima had done it. He’d been storing up all of his energy for this moment and he was sure that it would be entirely worth it. With a deep breath, he cracked his eyes open. The light hurt and his eye-lids felt ridiculously heavy but nothing could stop Kirishima now. He blinked stubbornly, holding his eyes open despite the fact that they were desperately trying to close.
Bakugou looked soft and tired in the afternoon sun, it streamed through the blinds and caught in his hair like a halo. This normally fiery red eyes were dimmed from the exhaustion and he had deep bags under his eyes. His face was drawn in concentration, eyes fixed on the notes and lip curled in a small snarl, he would tut occasionally, clearly thinking back to Mic’s rowdy teaching methods.
He was still reading off of his notes, drawing absentminded circles on the back of Kirishima’s hand and the red-head had to crack a smile from underneath the oxygen mask. The blond sighed, flipping the pages with his free hand, eyes wandering to Kirishima’s face before floating back to the book.
Kirishima smiled wider when Bakugou’s shoulders suddenly tensed, gaze locked on the book as if he was scared to look back. Scared that he hadn’t just seen his best friend awake and staring at him. Kirishima squeezed his hand and Bakugou’s gaze instantly rushed back to him and he stormed forwards, pulling the red-head up into a bone-crushing hug. Kirishima couldn’t return the strength, arms weak from disuse but that didn’t stop him from trying, coiling his limbs around Bakugou’s neck and hanging on for dear life, drinking up the comfort the hold brought like a parched man in the desert; desperate and dehydrated. The touch was a soothing balm that banished the horror of the last few days, easing his worries and patching his wounds.
“Katsuki.” His voice was thoroughly wrecked from neglect; dry and cracking. At the sound of his name Bakugou reluctantly drew back. If he had.
“The fuck took you so long, shit-face?” Bakugou’s insult was weak, laced with relief and wet with unshed tears. Kirishima smirked, and- with immense difficulty- shrugged his shoulders. Bakugou frowned, instantly taking note of the amount of energy that the simple action required. He reached over, pressing the nurses button a good six or seven times to lean back.
“’m sorry.” Kirishima grated out, intent on apologising because he’d put all of his friends through one hell of an ordeal. He had many more apologies to dish out, but Bakugou was a start. The blond scoffed, squeezing his hand tightly.
“Don’t fuck-face. I don’t wanna hear it. Neither does anyone else!” Kirishima smiled softly, watching his partner with sad eyes.
“But Katsu-”
“No.” Bakugou cut him off shortly. Kirishima ignored him, barrelling straight through the obstacle
“I worried you and I should have gone to Recovery Girl and I’m-” Bakugou had clearly heard enough. He leaned forwards, yanking the oxygen mask down harshly and delivering a quick kiss to his lips before replacing the mask.
“No” Bakugou said again and Kirishima had to restrain a laugh at the tone.
“You’re such a brat,” Bakugou rolled his eyes at him before smiling. It was a rare sight, one that Kirishima wanted to drink in while he had the honour. He wanted to see that smile more often, to see it every day for the rest of his life.
“A brat that you owe ice cream.” Kirishima did laugh then, rolling giggles that hurt his chest but he didn’t ever want it to end. Eventually the laughter tapered off but Kirishima couldn’t wipe the huge beam of his face. Bakugou rolled his eyes and ruffled his hair fondly.
“Lie with me?” Kirishima asked sweetly, shuffling over to make room on the hospital bed. Bakugou scowled at him and for a second Kirishima thought that the blond would deny him but then Bakugou rolled his eyes and began kicking off his shoes and Kirishima couldn’t keep the smile off his face.
He lifted a corner of the bed covers and Bakugou slipped in, pressing against his partner. Kirishima linked their fingers and leaned against Bakugou’s shoulder, grinning into the fabric.
“Stop smiling Shitty-Hair.” Kirishima laughed at the quiet grumble. He squeezed their interlinked fingers and he felt Bakugou squeeze back.
“How’d you know I could hear you?” Kirishima inquired, curiosity lacing his words,
“Easy,” Bakugou stated, “you do this dumb fucking thing,” Bakugou breathed in deeply and let all the air rush out in one whooshing breath. Kirishima laughed again
“You mean sighing?”
“I know what I fucking mean!” Bakugou snarled, gripping Kirishima’s hand a little tighter. “You do it when your happy.” Bakugou’s tone got softer the longer he went on. He was clearly tired but Kirishima couldn’t help but poke anyway,
“Aww, Blasty. I didn’t know you even noticed things like that?” Bakugou spluttered and Kirishima pulled them both to lie down before Bakugou could make a run for it. The red-head wound his arms around his friend’s middle and tangled their legs together. Bakugou growled something unintelligible under his breath before carefully moving all of the tubes and wires connected to his boyfriend out of the way.
Kirishima buried his face in Bakugou’s shoulder and soaked up the warmth and the distant scent of caramel and cinnamon. He’d be recovering for a long time yet, but maybe, with Bakugou at his side and surrounded by friends and allies; he would still become a great hero.