M u t e L o v e // KiriBaku

» The Doer of My Setbacks, Send Me Forward [Pt. II] «

No amount of breeze can shake off that heat inside them.

Each step closer to their training field of choice is another heavy stir to their minds and stomach. Still, their eyes are set forward, too aware of the fact that any waver to their attitude will lead to concern from the other.

The weather is fit for a day of progress; the breeze is crisp, gentle, but constant. Clouds spare them a shield from an overall sharp and screeching sun. They chose UA's outdoor track and field as their arena, taking advantage of its "open to the public" policy in the summers. It's relatively empty, sparing the few stragglers warming up or playing catch in larger distances away from the spot they choose to claim.

Although sharing a prolonged silence is common, today's silence feels strained. Gazes are kept low most times and smiles are harder to come by— and still, Bakugo feels that same encouragement and sweetness he feels from Kirishima when his lips are stretched joyfully at the world.

"Ready for warmups?"

Kirishima is glad he broke the silence. A sign of life, a sign of Bakugo is enough to drive his feet forward a step more. He smiles through a breath and nods.
Warmups are taken seriously, aided by each other throughout the generous fifteen minutes they pour into it.

Bakugo begins to pull away from him, allowing the other to sit up properly after pushing him forward, helping him stretching his legs and hips. His wrist is grabbed onto, albeit gently.
Kirishima is staring up at him. The world stops for a moment.

"What?" He murmurs.

Kirishima's hand slips into Bakugo's.
"Are you... okay?"

He's set back at the question. When he pulls away again, he lets him go without a fight.

"Why the question?"
"You're just... I dunno, you're really quiet. You have been, ever since we stepped out."

He shakes his head, but he does it almost to convince himself, too. "You're the quiet one, here!" He responds.

"I can tell you're thinking of something, babe, and I can tell, it's eating up your mind—"
"I'm fucking fine. Let's get this started."

It's cold, bitter, but so perfectly "Bakugo". So perfectly "troubled Bakugo".

"If anything, I'm fucking glad we're doing this." He says, getting up with a grunt. The silence that follows denies his statement. "Let's go."

He walks off without another mere word, stretching his arms up in the air and bending each one at a satisfying angle. With a whirling stomach, Kirishima follows suit with a sigh.

Once at a good distance, their spirit melts into the atmosphere. Even with Bakugo's salty remark towards him lingering in the air, his eyes meet his halfway through attentive colors.

"Let's ease into it!" Kirishima claims, keeping a benign grin. "We'll hold off on quirks for now... let's just get a feel for where we're standing now, practice wise."

It isn't visible to most, how gratefulness soothed the stress out of his eyes and frown. Still, as seconds count down in their heads the parasite inside Bakugo's chest feeds on his growing adrenaline. Tightened fists shake at his sides.

"Ready when you are!"

He gulps down the knot in his throat and breathes in. Attempts to relax his body are futile, when the queasiness keeping him hostage only worsens when doing so. He needs to move, he needs to start this before Kirishima's observations are solidified.

"Go to hell..." Is all he mutters beneath his breath, before launching forward with a growl. Still, those unwavering thoughts stand fearless at his words.