Disclaimer: This chapter is written VERY differently to the rest of the book. I really wanted to address Kirishima's past and the trauma associated with it because of a personal dislike for when writers allude to trauma but don't elaborate. I've added this because I felt like it didn't quite fit in to the planned ending, which was written three years ago.
I was 15 when I first started writing this book. I'm 18 now, and it sure has been a journey. To anyone who's been here since the beginning, or for a while, thank you. Your support means more than you could know.
If you're being abused, or you think someone you know is, call this number: 0800 1111 (UK Childline number) or 1-800-422-4453 (American SPCC). If you live in another country, you can look up "child abuse hotline [country of residence]. Stay safe everyone.
It took Kirishima two months to open up to Bakugo about his past, and all the baggage that came with it.
Bakugo had, of course, apologised (in his own way) for his aversion to having a soulmate, saying how he couldn't see the realism of being able to balance a Hero's life and having a partner. And Kirishima got it, and Kirishima has forgiven him, because he got it. He couldn't imagine dating someone and constantly fearing for them because of his personal status, which is sort of where Bakugo was coming from. Sure, Kirishima is definitely going to be afraid if Bakugo doesn't reply to a text after patrol, or doesn't immediately call him after a battle, but at least he has the comfort of knowing that Bakugo is perfectly capable of looking after himself.
Now the holidays were fast approaching, everyone making plans to go home, see their parents and extended family, talking about familial traditions, whilst Kirishima smiled and made affirming noises when appropriate, dreading having to go home.
Bakugo, of course, saw Kirishima's rapid change in behaviour, and dragged him away one lunch despite the shouted protests of Kaminari and Mina, who had been challenging Kirishima into a 2v1 arm wrestle. Bakugo's grip was tight, like he thought Kirishima might try to run. They left the canteen and their friends' catcalls behind, trekking down empty hallways, their footsteps echoing slightly in the silence. Neither of them spoke.
Honestly, Kirishima was hoping Bakugo was taking him somewhere for a makeout session. The distraction would be a welcome one.
He was disappointed, and somewhat relieved, oddly enough, when Bakugo rounded a corner, pulling Kirishima along with him and stopped, shoving him against a wall and growling "Talk."
Kirishima chuckled nervously, rubbing at his neck. "What do you mean?"
Clearly, Bakugo wasn't in a mood to take any shit, because his lips curled into a snarl, hands balling into fists. "Don't make me punch you, Shitty Hair."
Half-hearted chuckles trailed off, and Kirishima stared at Bakugo, studying him. Could he say it? How would Bakugo react, knowing his soulmate was really this weak? So fragile he couldn't even face seeing his own father?
"I..." Words failed him, so Kirishima swallowed and tried again. "I can't."
Bakugo scoffed, but it didn't sound dismissive. There was a tinge of...something, in his voice, and it plucked at Kirishima's heart. Soft, like he knew that whatever was eating at Kirishima would take some probing to reveal itself. "Like hell you can't. Tell me why you look all constipated, Eijiro."
After a pause, Kirishima pursed his lips. "It's complicated, Katsuki," he ended up saying, trailing his pinky over his forearm. He noted how Bakugo's eyes flickered down to his own arm, and how his shoulders shook with a small shiver.
"No shit. But we're not leaving until you tell me what's wrong, or I beat it out of you." Coming from anyone else, literally anyone else, Kirishima would shut off, hide himself away and insist everything was fine. But the way Bakugo said it, words edged with a softness that rarely showed itself, Bakugo's unique way of worrying and caring for Kirishima, began to chip away at the walls in his head.
He considered it, then reached forward and took Bakugo's hand, fingers tightening, feeling that rush of warmth when Bakugo squeezed them back in response and willingly let Kirishima guide them towards the bathroom, locking the door behind them.
"It's a...it's not something I can explain quickly."
Bakugo paused, considering something, lips pursed. "We can miss English," he said eventually, and Kirishima couldn't help raising his eyebrows with a surprised expression.
"Mr Future Number One Hero missing a class? I don't believe it," he joked, a terrible attempt to lighten the situation. To avoid the situation, maybe. Kirishima wasn't sure.
Bakugo didn't laugh.
Now the atmosphere had changed, heavy and thick and oppressive. It felt like it rested entirely on Kirishima's shoulders. His legs felt weak. Slowly, he leaned his back against the wall and let himself slide down until he was sitting on cold tiles with his arms wrapped around his knees, and his head resting on them. "I don't want you to know how weak I really am," he admitted quietly, his words still echoing in the otherwise silent, empty bathroom.
Kirishima didn't even realise that Bakugo had crouched down until they were eye level, gazes meeting. It was electric, tingles running up Kirishima's arms and back, giving him goosebumps. He had his heartbeat in his tongue, lightning at his fingertips, a whirlwind in his head.
"You're not weak," Bakugo said simply, an edge to his voice. "You're my fuckin- you're my soulmate, Eijiro." You can tell me, I'm not leaving, were the unspoken words, but Kirishima heard them anyway. Bakugo never said things he didn't mean, even if he didn't technically say them this time.
He'll hate you if you say it.
Slowly, with a tenderness Kirishima knew Bakugo rarely showed, the blond took his hand, intertwining their fingers. More unspoken words, unspoken feelings. The uncomfortable feeling of Kirishima's throat closing up made breathing feel impossibly hard, but Bakugo's touch reassured him to take his time.
"I've been alone," Kirishima eventually said, after minutes of debating his words, "for practically as long as I can remember. My mum died when I was seven, and her death drove my dad to alcohol. I don't know if it was- if he was always this way, but he became...he was abusive. Physically, emotionally...he was like that voice in my head, constantly telling me I'm doing everything wrong, saying the wrong things, driving everyone away.
"I mean, it...I don't think he..." Kirishima tapped on his thigh with his free hand, brows scrunched, eyes burning. But if he started crying now, he wouldn't be able to get his words out. And he needed to get his words out. "That book, we did in English with Mic, uh...Jekyll and Hyde. He was like that. Some days he would come home and he would be like he was when I was little, but...less and less, as I got older. He got let go from his job, found one that was more work for less money and his drinking got worse. I guess his drunk brain rationalised it, or...or maybe he was just an asshole, maybe even sober he figured it was okay to treat me like shit." Kirishima inhaled deeply, afraid to look up. Terrified to see Bakugo's expression. "I was ten, the first time he hit me. It was my birthday. I asked if he had bought me a birthday present." More tapping. "He hadn't."
A grim chuckle escaped Kirishima's mouth, an inappropriate response to feeling like his entire chest was being compressed. He felt short of breath, but not in a way that would lead to hyperventilation. More like, if he didn't keep talking he would no longer be able to draw air into his lungs. "It only got worse as I got older too. And he was more angry if I tried to reason with him, or fight back. Not to mention the first- well, the only time social services came round.
"When they came over, it was an arranged visit, and my dad made sure everything was tidy, that everything looked clean. They talked about the reports from neighbours, from teachers, but he bluffed through everything and they left." Kirishima swallowed, but it got caught in his throat and it felt so, so uncomfortable. "That was the worst one, the worst time he...did anything. And he wasn't even drunk. Afterwards, he asked me why...what was wrong with me, why I told 'lies'. He called them lies." Kirishima stopped tapping in favour of scratching at the top of his hand. "I told him I was lonely. He called me attention seeking, locked me in my room." Bakugo pulled Kirishima's fingers away from where they were in danger of breaking his skin and Kirishima let him, but pulled away before Bakugo could try to grasp his hands. "That was the first time I really tried to talk to my- to you. I sent so many messages."
Of course, now the tears fell.
"You say you're sorry, you say- I know you're sorry, Katsuki! I know that, but why wouldn't you- I don't know why? I can't figure it out, could never figure it out, how you were so young but so focused. You knew, even then, that you didn't want me?" The words were spilling over, slopping over the edge like water in a public pool. He was just saying whatever came to mind at this point, regardless of whether he meant it. Kirishima inhaled a shuddering breath and continued. "I told my dad once when I was younger," Kirishima huffed a mirthless laugh. His hands were shaking. "I told him I was scared that I had a soulmate who hated me and he told me 'Of course. Who doesn't hate you?' and then laughed." At his words, the way his voice quivered, Bakugo reached for him again, but drew his fingers back when Kirishima flinched away. No, Kirishima wanted to say. Hold me, please. I need that reassurance. But he didn't, he just continued. "He was drunk. I didn't know that at the time, I was only eleven, or maybe I had just turned twelve, but he was drunk and probably thought it would be funny, but it really got to me. I distanced myself from my friends, turned them away whenever they'd try to talk to me. I really thought they hated me." Kirishima got quieter. "I think they kind of did. No one liked me much anyway, but they still didn't- they didn't even try to keep me around, y'know?" Tears threatened to fall but Kirishima angrily swiped a hand over his eyes and looked away. "But now I have you, and Kaminari and Mina and Sero and you're amazing and I'm so grateful, don't get me wrong, but you're all going home, to your families and you're all so happy about it but I have to go back to my dad and I'm fucking terrified of him!" Kirishima laughed again but this one was broken, empty, devoid of humour and verging on hysteria. "Here I am, training to be a fucking Hero and I'm scared to death of my own dad."
You're ruining everything.
"People used to notice it, how adverse I was to going home. I had the school counselor talk to me, when I was twelve. I said home life wasn't good and she told me to talk to my soulmate more. As if that could solve any of my problems, as if I wasn't some kind of freak who had no soulmate, because everyone obsessed over them! Imagine some kid coming up to you, telling you how they would stand outside of their front door for hours because they were too afraid to go into their house, and your professional opinion would be to tell them to talk to someone who doesn't even know them!"
It was all pouring out now - Kirishima didn't think he'd be able to stop it even if he tried, but this release felt so good, finally able to vent about all of his trauma.
"So time when on and I...most of the time, whenever I'd try to bring anything up, I had all these people telling me 'Don't worry! You can talk to your soulmate about these things!' and what could I tell them? That I wasn't sure I even had a soulmate? I was enough of an outcast already. So I would send message after message but I wouldn't get any response and-" his throat blocked up and he choked on his words, eyes blurry with tears. He couldn't look at Bakugo, couldn't bear to see his expression. "But I don't blame you. I don't. I know why you did it and I respect it, to a point. And I am so, so glad it's you, I couldn't have wished for a better soulmate but god, Katsuki," Kirishima's voice broke but he kept going, the dam had split and the water was still rushing out, and Kirishima could envision it destroying everything in its path. "Didn't you ever think what it would be like for me?"
Good job.
The voice had never sounded so sarcastic.
All of a sudden, being on the floor was too much, Kirishima was too jittery, too overwhelmed, so he got to his feet and began pacing, practically shaking with pent up words and energy.
"I'm damaged, Bakugo. I'm trying to fix myself but it's just-" Now the tears were properly falling, fat and heavy down his cheeks, gathering at his chin and dripping onto his shirt. "It's just so hard."
Before Kirishima could react, Bakugo had crossed the space between them and had wrapped his arms around Kirishima, pulling him in and holding him tight. Whatever dregs of restraint Kirishima had been clutching onto slipped out of his grasp and he buried his head in the crook of Bakugo's neck, crying openly. The arms around him were holding him together. No, not quite; they were holding the pieces, waiting until Kirishima put them together himself. He was being given the time and support to fix himself.
They stood like that for so long that time lost any meaning, vaguely hearing the bells signalling classes beginning and ending like they were ringing in some other dimension. Some people tried to get into the bathroom, but didn't raise any fuss when they couldn't get in. At some point, they slid to the floor, Kirishima still enveloped, and although their limbs were cramping neither of them cared. Kirishima needed to be held and Bakugo was more than ready to provide.
It was only when Kirishima's phone began vibrating in his back pocket did he become aware of how stiff and sore he was, the feeling shaking his body to wakefulness. He groaned a little, Bakugo mirroring the noise, and finally let go in favour of reaching around and plucking Kirishima's phone out of his trousers.
"It's Pikachu...what the fuck." Bakugo frowned at the phone, and Kirishima pulled away, leaning over to get a look.
Kaminari
12:28 Where are you guys?
You left your bags
12:34 We took them to class
12:45 Class is starting where are you
1:03 oH
OH GOD
You two are disgusting, skipping class to fuck?
I'm telling Mina
1:05 Mina hit me
I'm sorry if this is interrupting
Mina
1:05 I really hope whatever Kami said is happening is not happening
Not that I wouldn't be happy for u
But
Srsly Kirishima?
Kaminari
1:08 Actually no I'm not you two are gross.
Sero
1:10 Tbh Bakugo could probably do with it. Good job Kiri :)
Kaminari
2:20 It's been like two hours
Do you two just have insatiable sex drives or something
3:02 You literally missed the whole afternoon of classes
I'm jealous
3:06 I need a girlfriend
Blanching, Kirishima nabbed his phone and turned it off. "Our friends are so vulgar."
"Your friends. They're idiots."
"Your friends too." Kirishima put his phone on the floor and leaned into Bakugo's chest. "We missed more than English."
"Don't care." This was more important.
"Me either." A pause. "Thank you."
Bakugo made a noise, like he had choked on one of his signature scoffs of dismissal. "Whatever, Shitty Hair." I'm glad you trust me. He took Kirishima's hand in his and entwined their fingers. "The school counsellor is decent, y'know." I'll get you help.
Kirishima smiled, cheeks still wet with tears. "Yeah, maybe."
Sure, Kirishima missed out on knowing his soulmate for the first few years of his life. But he knows him now, better than he could ever imagine knowing anyone else and, if he weighed it up, it was worth it.
When it came to Bakugo, it would always be worth it.