Teenage Haze

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That next Sunday was mundane as ever, the two wasted the day away lounging on the couch and reviewing relevant material from the previous school year.

The following Monday was, for the most part, the same. They walked to school with their friend group—Mina, Kaminari, Jiro, and Sero, got through morning classes, and made it to lunch without any trouble. Which, for them was a win.

That lunch though, the cafeteria was packed to the point where the group, (well, Bakugo,) decided they'd sit outside, on a wraparound bench beneath a japanese Maple, it's green leaves just beginning to speckle with vibrant reds.

They swarmed the bench, each more eager than the other to sit down and eat after a morning that seemed to just drag on and on.

As they sat chatting and eating, a cool breeze, brushed across the hilltop, the first chill of autumn, changes of a new season just arriving.

Kirishima inhaled a deep breath of fresh air, letting it flow through his hair in its passing, crisp and fresh.

The hilltop air blew through his lungs with cleansing air, momentarily blocking out any other sensation.

Out of the corner of his eye Kirishima could see Bakugo holding his breath then, suddenly bursting out laughing, wondering what was possibly so funny, he turned.

Light cascaded down Katsuki's face like a golden waterfall, cool air brushing through spikes of dirty blond hair, swirling the fabric of his disheveled uniform and roughly knotted tie through the air. A reluctant bursting smile, tickling his cheeks in pink, as ruby eyes crinkled and glittered in amusement.

Yesterday, that moment, flashed the front of his mind, the tranquil beauty reflecting right in front of him once again, and Bakugo looked, in a way unfamiliar, as if, for the first time, he was seeing him in a different light.

No, he wasn't the same as Sero, or Jiro, or Mina, or Kaminari, there was something anew to himself. Nothing like another— any other, friend.

Katsuki was prettier, outlined gently in the rays of high noon. His softness glistening brightly through his gruff exterior, as a red leaf settled soundlessly in his blond locks.

And the thought burned deep crimson from his ears to the tip of his nose.

"Kat...?" the nickname rolled perfectly off his tongue, struck with soft bewilderment.

"Wha- ...I though I told you not to call me that at school?!" He exclaimed in poorly shrouded embarrassment.

Eijiro, just stared, flushed, overcome with floods of confusion, masquerading in an expression of blushed awe.

"Jeez, Kiri, drink some water, you look sunburnt!" Playing off the frozen red face staring back at him, the blond shoved a waterbottle into his friends hand.

"Um, y-yeah, I will," clearing his throat the redhead turned hastily away. "Thanks,"

"Whatever... just drink it."

Following the instruction, red eyes dodging all others, Kiri took a long drink allowing the iced water to gradually cool off his face.

"There you go... jesus, you were red, got a fever or some shit?"

"No, no, it must've been the, the sun or something." Chugging the rest of the water, the redhead finished his lunch, hearing no more of his friend's conversation, thoughts swimming thickly through his mind, blocking out anything other than a muddle of confusion.

All their time together, all their memories together suddenly fronted his mind.

That summer, on their day at the beach, when it rained and they had to run and huddle beneath a boardwalk to stay dry; when they climbed out Kirishima's window and watched the stars for hours last winter, cuddling together, shaking in the temperature; when Bakugo got sick from it and Kirishima insisted on spending the day taking care of him; even that first time they met, when they hated eachother at first sight.

Waves of slurried emotion overcame him, but the only clear thing in the mess, was that something was different in him.

He leaned back on the bench, lying down with an arm over his eyes and cheeks, desperately trying to push away the anxious flurrying inside his chest.

But, by the time the bell rang, he managed. Packing up his things and following their small friend group to fourth period.

Though, in that specific, perceptive way, the blond fell behind, eyes boring intimidatingly concerned into his best friend until he finally spoke.

"Ei, what's wrong?" He asked quietly, nudging the red head with his elbow.

"Hm? Oh, nothing,"

"What's wrong?"

"Dude, nothing."

"No, you've got that weird look, what's going on?"

"Gee thanks," He couldn't help the sarcasm, he just slipped right into normal rhythm. Katsuki was like that though, to damned easy to be with.

"No, asshole, you know what I mean."

"No, I don't," Eijiro laughed, discomforted.

"Whatever, I'll figure it out soon enough." He scoffed a little too proudly.

"Well then, prepare to turn up a whole lot of nothing." The redhead smiled, taking up a playful edge.

"Ha! Sure thing shitty-hair!"

The rest of the day went as usual. The two classes left, passing quickly in their ease.

But that day jarred Kirishima, and as he reconsidered, though through his muddle, he could figure this feeling had been welling up inside him for a long time now, it just happened that today, in that split second, it emerged, leaving behind a gaping disconnect, heavy in his chest.

Despite it, as best he tried, Eijiro couldn't identify what this feeling was, simply that it was there, new to him, but truly old. Simply, it was that, he knew Bakugo, but newly, he knew a view of the blond that hadn't yet emerged.

But denial of any questions rushed forth, swiftly consuming the redhead, as his life continued on, almost unbothered.

As the days pushed on, he attempted to shed the feeling, but it deep down, he knew it wouldn't. And the feeling stewed, and inevitably, it grew... and there was nothing he could do about it, except, try to ignore it. So, that was exactly what he did.

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