Something's not right.
Midoriya kept throwing nervous glances between you and Bakugou.
Nothing was out of the ordinary.
At least, on the outside.
Bakugou led the rest of you through the mall, towards the second yukata store.
Behind Bakugou, you kept close. Your owlish eyes were trained completely on him.
The weird thing was, compared to the outdoor walkways of Harajuku, this mall wasn't crowded at all. You had no reason to follow Bakugou to such an extent. And whenever you did, you liked to observe your surroundings while simultaneously keeping him within your peripheral vision.
Something was making you stick to Bakugou like glue.
Midoriya couldn't put his finger on it.
Instead, he put his finger on his bottom lip and sandwiched it with his thumb. Then he tugged.
This morning, you'd asked him for information about Bakugou. You'd also told Midoriya that one way or another, you were going to help Bakugou. You'd been planning to do so ever since that little stunt he pulled– the one where he turned the dorm shower room into a slaughterhouse.
Midoriya let go of his lip.
Anxiety turned into fear.
His big eyes flicked right to bore holes into the side of your face.
Is he going to–...
Slowly, he switched to looking at Bakugou.
...ask Kacchan about it?
Right here, right now?
Your mouth didn't move.
Everything else did.
Your back curved outward, your hands hid inside your pockets, and your legs slid far apart.
You took a long step forward.
You were doing the same hunchback, hands-in-pockets, shit-in-pants walk that Bakugou liked to do.
The most relieved sigh flew out of Midoriya. He practically deflated. "Oh, thank God."
Kirishima and Kaminari nearly shat themselves laughing. You looked like a cross between a baby penguin and a skinwalker.
"You're doing so good, !"
"Why is it so accurate!?"
Bakugou yanked his chin over his shoulder to yell, "The fuck are you idiots laughing at!?"
He saw you.
When he did, he completely stopped walking.
You bumped into him.
With an innocent blink, you said, "I am sorry, Baku–"
"I'll kill you!"
And so, you were now running for your life. Bakugou was throwing his arms backward and using his explosions to propel himself after you.
Iida's engines fired as he broke into a sprint. He had to catch Bakugou before someone actually died. "Control yourself, Bakugou! We are in a public space!"
"I control whether you live or die!"
"Please stop saying such heinous things!"
"Die!"
"Stop!"
Midoriya muttered, "That was pretty accurate though..."
Bakugou instantly switched targets and Midoriya screamed.
The two who'd remained silent thus far were Yaoyorozu and Todoroki. They were staring at you, oddly fascinated.
"He's... he's learning."
"Does he study Bakugou in his free time or something...?"
Thanks to poor Midoriya, you were free from Bakugou's malice. For now.
You sipped on Kaminari's drink while watching Kirishima restrain Bakugou by the pits.
"Let go, you hemorrhoids-looking piece of shit!"
"Oh, hemorrhoids? That's a new one. You're so creative, Bakugou!"
"Shut the hell up!"
Midoriya was on the floor. He had to support himself with his palms as he caught his breath. "Thanks, Kirishima...! I really thought he was gonna get me this time."
"Yeah, I gotcha."
Bakugou strained every which way in an attempt to escape Kirishima's death grip. "I'm going to kill all of you!"
The drink disappeared from your hand.
Kaminari had snatched it back. Holding it away from you, he squinted and said, "I didn't say you could have all of it!"
Your shoulders fell. "Okay."
"...Fine, just a bit more."
You instantly perked up again. "Okay."
Kaminari was completely motionless as he watched you pluck the drink from his hand.
Then he turned his head.
Out of sight, he was pulling his pink sunglasses down in a half-assed effort to hide his equally pink cheeks.
He'd only just realized that you two had shared an indirect kiss.
In spite of all the pretty girls he'd ever flirted with, it was a pretty boy who was making him blush like this.
He clutched his head.
Pretty boys are ruining my life!
An empty cup appeared in front of Kaminari.
You'd returned his drink. Well, whatever was left of it– which was nothing, because you were a gremlin.
Kaminari deadpanned.
If ruining his life meant stealing his food, you were ruining Kaminari's life, alright.
"I said you could have a bit."
"...By definition, a 'bit' is a small portion of a whole. Only a small quantity of liquid was left in the–"
"Really?"
In the end, you got away with it.
Kaminari dragged his hand down his cheek and groaned.
He could never say no to you.
At last, your group reached the store.
In comparison to the first shop, Tsukikageya, this one was incredibly spacious. Double the size in both floor space and number of fabric to select from, it looked like the perfect spot to run around willy-nilly.
You did exactly that.
Scurrying ahead of Bakugou, you vanished into the women's section.
"Don't walk in front of me, damn it!"
Kirishima sighed at Bakugou. "Let him be. He's curious, that's all."
"Still walked in front of me." Bakugou scoffed. "Brat. He's getting cocky."
"Huh. I wonder why, Mr. I-Wasn't-Waiting."
"What did you just call me!?"
The others laughed.
No one could ever stop you from wandering off.
"There he goes," said Yaoyorozu. She turned to Iida. "You should focus on buying an outfit yourself. I'll keep an eye on him."
Iida went red. The memory of him ransacking Tsukikageya for any cat yukata he could find was replaying over and over in his poor brain.
He chopped his arms through the air. "Thank you, Yaoyorozu! I will."
"It's nothing. It's the least I can do after you went so far to get him."
Todoroki had a dilemma.
He kept looking between the women's section and the men's section.
On one hand, there was a chance you would see something you liked.
On the other hand, Todoroki hadn't bought himself a yukata yet.
"You, too, Todoroki."
He stiffened.
A knowing smile teased at Yaoyorozu's lips. "You fought well back there, when we were both trying to pay."
"...Next time, I won't accept paying just half."
She giggled. "Right, of course."
In the women's section, you found a few of your nice, not-Bakugou classmates.
Aoyama, Asui, Jiro, and Uraraka were huddled around a bunch of wig-wearing mannequin heads. The heads were mounted on ascending sets of shelves. All sorts of flowery hair ornaments, from lush wisteria to tiny plum blossoms, were on display.
Aoyama twirled with a French flamboyance to face you. He'd sensed your presence. "Ah, te voilà!"
He performed a few chaine turns to reach you. "I've been looking for you and your hair!"
That wasn't creepy at all.
Unlike Aoyama, Asui and Jiro greeted you like normal people.
"Hello. Ribbit."
"Hey, you're back."
Uraraka took a second. It was a stretch to say she was totally comfortable around you.
But she'd try her best.
Whether or not Midoriya had feelings for you, Uraraka would try her best to get along with you.
She spun, and putting on her best grin, she chirped, "Hi!"
You didn't respond. Not to Uraraka or to anyone else.
The targets of your blank stare were the chalk-white, faceless mannequin heads looming behind Aoyama and the girls.
You pointed at the disembodied heads. "What are their sins?"
Jiro choked on her spit. "Excuse me?"
Asui and Uraraka exchanged flabbergasted glances.
Even Aoyama stopped twinkling.
You made direct eye contact with him, head tilting, and that was when he understood.
"Just because I'm French doesn't mean–! ugh!"
Question marks circled around Uraraka's head. "What are you guys talking about...?"
"I think I understand."
Aoyama and the girls looked to the left of you.
It was Yaoyorozu.
She'd come up next to you, hands folded neatly in front of her.
With a light chuckle, she explained, "During the French Revolution, nobles were executed by guillotine. I believe he's implying that these mannequins were decapitated for their crimes."
You nodded. "Yaoyorozu is correct."
At that, she seemed to sparkle a little. She lifted her chin and closed her eyes, preening herself.
Then she coughed. "Ahem."
She'd almost lost herself in your praise.
In response to most people's approval, she'd only remain silent or thank them. She was always humble and polite.
Except when it came to you, apparently.
Of all things to take pride in, Yaoyorozu's favorite was being able to transcribe your bizarre train of thought.
"So that's what you meant," said Jiro. She snickered. "Y'think the mannequins started moving when they weren't supposed to?"
In a matter of seconds, shit flew off the rails.
Yaoyorozu put her palms over her mouth. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Don't say things like that!" screeched Uraraka. She crouched in Asui's shadow and Asui deadpanned.
Aoyama let out a French scream.
Things couldn't possibly get any worse, but somehow, you managed to do it.
Your face mere centimeters away from Jiro's, you asked her, "Mannequins can move?"
She nearly broke her spine trying to lean back. "Jesus!"
A fish eye view of anyone was... not pleasant, to say the least.
Out of nowhere, Todoroki showed up behind you. "Jesus can make mannequins move...?"
You turned around to reply, "That may be true. Jesus is a demigod who has a wide range of supernatural abilities, which may include the ability to move mannequins."
"So it's like a Quirk..."
"Yes."
Yaoyorozu buried her head in her hands. Her taste in men had something to be desired. Maybe something like brain cells.
A menacing aura radiated from the shortest person here.
Asui was staring directly at Todoroki. Her big, blank eyes were void of any feeling. "You're infecting him with your conspiracy theories."
"I don't make conspiracy theories. And I'm not sick."
"Are you sure?"
Jiro was this close to biting down on her own arm. She was trying so hard not to laugh as she asked you, "Who the hell told you about Jesus? You talk about him like he's an anime character or something."
Todoroki was the one to answer. "Sero."
"Wait... Todoroki, you don't– you don't know who Jesus is either, do you?"
"I do. He was born on Christmas, so his mom named him Jesus Christ."
Asui asked him again, "Are you sure?"
Yaoyorozu cut in, "You're already done shopping, Todoroki?"
He averted his gaze and tucked his empty hands into his pockets. "...Soon."
He definitely did not come here just to check if you fancied anything. Nope.
Yaoyorozu sighed.
Banished.
You and Todoroki had been banished from the women's section by none other than the only other guy there, Aoyama. He didn't even bother touching your hair. He'd dismissed you in the most dramatic fashion, the back of his hand against his forehead. It wasn't like you executed anyone by guillotine or anything. Maybe Todoroki implying that Jesus was named after Christmas had been the final straw.
Fortunately for you dumbasses, Yaoyorozu chose to accompany you. She had more than enough brain cells for the three of you.
"Yaomomo, wait."
She peered over her shoulder. Then she pivoted to completely face Jiro. "Yes?"
She was glancing from Yaoyorozu to the baby pinks and bright whites of the feminine yukata. "Aren't you going to buy something for yourself?"
She'd paid for half of your yukata, yet she still hadn't bought one of her own.
She looked towards you.
A short distance away, you were waiting for Yaoyorozu alongside Todoroki. He was eyeing the men's section.
And so was Yaoyorozu.
"...There's something I'd like to try."
Once she joined you and Todoroki, your trio headed over.
Here, the fabric selection was much more muted in color. And the patterns weren't very interesting to look at. Rather than flowers and fireworks, the men's fabric had either stripes or no patterns at all.
You pat one of the rolled-up yukata. Then you unfurled it and put it on top of your head.
"Are you bored?"
You stepped to face Yaoyorozu. Her dainty fingers were hovering before her lips in an attempt to hide her laughter.
"I do not know."
She had to act fast. Leave you alone for too long and you might eat dirt.
Yaoyorozu took the yukata off of your head. She rolled it back up, returning it to the shelf.
Lastly, she smiled up at you. "Why don't you keep Bakugou company? I'll stay with Todoroki. I'd like to consult him for fashion advice."
This way, Yaoyorozu could keep both you and Todoroki in check. With Bakugou around, you wouldn't be bored. And Todoroki would actually focus on buying his own clothes.
"Okay."
Bakugou was slinking about the store. For once, he wasn't leaving the shopping to Kirishima. He'd decided that Kirishima had the intelligence of a single-celled organism.
So Bakugou set out to find a yukata himself.
A hand tugged on Bakugou's vest.
The tug came from below, not above.
It wasn't you, the only person allowed to do that.
Bakugou swatted the hand away. He looked down with a drawn-out, "Hah!?"
It was Bakugou's favorite animal.
A child.
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Fuck do you want, you runt?"
"Um..."
For a moment, the boy glanced elsewhere.
He had a friend hiding behind one of the displays.
She hissed, "Ask him!"
"O– okay..." Turning back to Bakugou, the boy asked him, "Why do you walk like your peepee exploded?"
Bakugou's pupils shrunk to pinpricks. His mouth fell open.
No way.
No fucking way a child just said that to Bakugou.
He stuck his hands on his hips. Bending at the waist, he tilted his head and seethed, "Why do you talk like your brain exploded!? You were dropped on your head as a baby, weren't you?"
The boy burst into tears.
He wailed and ran off, taking his friend with him.
Bakugou straightened up. As he watched them go, he smirked to himself. "Serves 'em right."
"Bakugou?"
Bakugou went still.
Slowly, he craned his head to the right.
You stood there, your eyes the roundest they'd ever been. "Bakugou's peepee... exploded?"
And you weren't alone.
Behind you, Kirishima, Ashido, Sero, and Kaminari were screaming with laughter.
Kirishima wheezed, "His–! His peepee!"
Sero was hammering his fists into the floor. "It exploded!"
Somehow, Ashido's skin became even more pink than it already was. She and Kaminari had to hold onto each other for dear life as they cried real tears.
Your gaze drifted downward. "I see. The incident must have occurred at the time of Quirk manifestation. That is the reason why Bakugou has a... unique walking pattern."
His eyes went white. Veins bulged from his neck to his forehead.
He was terrifyingly calm when he said, "If you don't wanna die, run."
You were now running for your life. Again.
In front of you, Kirishima led you by the hand. The flesh of his fingers molded to the unforgiving steel of your wrist.
Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero flanked you and Kirishima. They were giggling as if all of you weren't moments away from death.
Death came in the form of Bakugou Katsuki.
Not far behind, he fired off explosion after explosion. "Get back here!"
Your band of psychotic little animals sprinted through the mall. Passing shoppers gawked at the sight.
Not that any of you cared.
A shit-eating grin spread across Sero's face. He lifted his chin over his shoulder to yell, "Sorry about Bakugou Junior!"
"You're dying first!"
Snickering, Kaminari whispered to Sero, "Nice!" and they high-fived.
Ashido twirled to cheekily stick her tongue out at Bakugou. "You gotta try harder than that!"
It was Bakugou's turn to grin. "You sure 'bout that?"
The explosions got faster and Ashido let out a tiny squeak of terror.
Kaminari screeched at her, "What have you done!?"
They were lassoed by a piece of tape.
Sero began to pull them along with him. "Run faster, you midgets!"
"Hey!"
"You're not even that tall!"
"Guys! This isn't the time to be arguing!"
All eyes landed on Kirishima.
Brows pinched and jaw clenched, he was looking grim. "I think it's time for Plan B."
Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido exchanged nods.
The fact that they all knew what that meant was highly indicative of just how often this exact situation occurred. 'B' stood for Bakugou, the homicidal maniac who somehow got into a high school institution.
You, meanwhile, were boring holes into Kirishima's skull. "Kirishima is... pregnant?"
He nearly tripped.
The other three bozos started laughing again. Sero almost lost his grip on Ashido and Kaminari.
Turning red, Kirishima spluttered, "How the heck would I–!? Y'know what, let's talk about this later!"
"Okay."
Kirishima took a deep breath.
He threw his head back to shout, "Scatter!"
Everyone split off in different directions. The plan was that at least one of you had to survive. There had to be someone to live to tell the tale of Bakugou murdering several teenagers due to the explosion of his p-word.
Iida did tell everyone to stick together, but right now, staying alive was slightly more important.
At least you weren't alone.
Kirishima never let go of your wrist.
When he swiveled his head to check up on you, you saw his silly shark-toothed grin.
"I gotcha!"
"Thank you, Kirishima."
What he saw was the wind in your hair. Some of it had escaped your braid. The stray pieces bounced with each step you took.
All your attention was on Kirishima and Kirishima alone.
He turned forward, pressing his lips into a flustered line.
So this is what it felt like to be the one in front of you.
It was like seeing the ocean for the first time, as you had a month ago. Kirishima had been right next to you. Back then, your hair had been doing the same, flowing with each push and pull of the deep blue waves.
And Kirishima had been so smitten– beyond smitten by your wide golden eyes and sunkissed skin.
Kirishima smiled to himself.
You should really look back every now and then, Bakugou.
"Wanna rest for a sec?"
"Okay."
With a tug, Kirishima took you into the cover of a nearby pillar. He guided you to sit against the pillar whilst he remained standing. He tipped his head back and put his hands on his hips.
For a few moments, it was quiet. Only Kirishima's light panting could be heard. Though your own breathing was inaudible, it didn't mean you weren't tired either.
Of the group, you and Kirishima were the tanks, capable of taking high amounts of damage without flinching.
That also meant you two were the slowest. Bakugou should have caught up by now.
But then it'd be too easy for him.
This was a game to Bakugou just as much as it was to you and everyone else.
Going after the slow ones first was no fun.
You and Kirishima were last on Bakugou's list.
"Kirishima?"
He tipped his head back down to look at you. "Yeah?"
Sweat ran down his cheeks. The droplets mirrored his tears from that day–
the day he cried.
It was only yesterday.
You got to your feet, lifting one hand to smooth your hair away from your face. Then you used the same hand to pat Kirishima's stiff, spiky hair.
As he chuckled, his dark lashes kissed the wet skin of his cheeks. "What is it, buddy?"
You hesitated.
If you told Kirishima what you were planning to do, would he let you?
Or would he try to handle everything by himself all over again?
"...Kirishima's hair is black."
"Oh, crap, are my roots coming out already? Thanks for telling me!"
"It is no problem."
Liar.
In the distance, explosions rang out.
There were shrill screams followed by maniacal laughter.
Kirishima grimaced. "Aw, man. Must be Kaminari and Ashido."
Those two did split off in different directions. But knowing them, they probably ran into each other by accident and probably got their asses handed to them.
You pressed your hands together. "Rest in peace."
"They're not dead, silly!"
"I see." Your hands separated. "Do not rest in peace."
"How is that any better...?" Still, Kirishima couldn't help but laugh. His hand darted forward to scoot you in the opposite direction of where the screaming came from. "Anyway, we should get going. That sounded pretty close, yeah?"
"Yeah." Keeping your back tight to the pillar, you peeked out slightly. "Let us go."
As you ran, you picked up on even more screaming.
It was Sero. You heard him make one last quip about Bakugou's detonated wang moments before an explosion ended it all.
"That dumbass!" sighed Kirishima. "Not gonna lie, he had it coming."
"Kirishima thinks Bakugou deserves to have his peepee exploded?"
"That's not what I meant, but honestly? Yeah."
"What was that, Shitty Hair?"
All you'd done was turn a corner.
Bakugou was tilting his head downward. Apparently, none of the teasing was enough to make him stop slouching. Sharp blond fringes concealed the tops of his blood red irises. His pupils, the size of a needle tip, peered straight through his eyebrows. His scary ass was hitting you with the Kubrick stare.
Kirishima skidded to a stop. He flung an arm out to stop you as well.
Looks like Bakugou had circled around.
"I got you now, you fuckers."
In order to catch your balance, you gripped Kirishima's head. "Hello, Bakugou."
Kirishima didn't even flinch. Easygoing as ever, he threw up a wave. "If it isn't my man, Bakugou!"
Bakugou's eyelid twitched.
Neither of you were afraid of Bakugou in the slightest.
Tiny sparks began to dance between his fingers. The sparks grew bigger and bigger by the millisecond, until he was holding fireworks in the palms of his hands.
Then he returned Kirishima's greeting with the most devilish, downright evil simper he could muster. "Prepare to die!"
Kirishima got into a fighting stance. The skin around the edges of his face and the knuckles of his fists hardened. "You're on!"
"This one does not sell cake."
Kirishima and Bakugou paused to look at you.
You were checking out a vending machine. Disinterested, you dropped your hands from the glass.
Bakugou snapped, "Pay attention, dumbass!"
"Yesterday, Bakugou bought me cake in a can."
He had to have some sort of disease with how often he was twitching today. "...You really do wanna die, don't you?"
"No."
"I don't believe you. Why the hell have you been running?"
"Because Bakugou told me to."
He could only stare at you. His Quirk wasn't even active anymore.
In the background, Kirishima made zero effort to stifle his giggles.
Something inside Bakugou cracked.
That was it. That was the final straw.
Bakugou lunged.
Before he could maul you, he was tackled to the ground by Kirishima.
Your brows crinkled the tiniest bit. You took a few steps forward. "What is Kirishima doing...?"
He shouted, "Don't come here!"
You stopped in your tracks.
"At least one of us has to live! Go!"
The sound of windchimes struck your ears. A breeze picked up your hair, making it float past you.
Kirishima's sacrifice... will not be in vain.
"...Thank you, Kirishima."
He watched you turn and flee, a manly tear rolling down his cheek. "I gotcha."
Bakugou whacked him upside the head. "Stop being so fucking dramatic."
"It's kinda fun! Maybe I should try out the drama club sometime."
"I'm gonna throw up."
"Well, that's not very nice."
Nowhere was truly safe from the likes of Bakugou, but this would have to do for now.
You ducked into the restroom.
Inside, you found your favorite little shrub.
"Hello, Midoriya."
He was facing the mirror. He didn't seem to hear you.
Reflected in the mirror was an odd expression, one you never saw him make very often.
For Midoriya, being spaced out was normal. When he wasn't thinking aloud, he was keeping his thoughts to himself.
But the dead look in his eyes wasn't normal at all.
"Midoriya?"
It was as if he'd been stabbed.
With a start, he pivoted on one foot to turn towards you. His hand flew to tug up the collar of his jacket.
This was an expression you'd committed to memory.
Midoriya was smiling at you. He was happy.
"Oh, hi! Going to the bathroom, too, huh?"
So why didn't his voice match his face?
It shook as if the seasons had skipped from summer to winter.
You were already moving to fix whatever was wrong.
Question marks floated above Midoriya's head. His mouth opened, about to ask you what you were doing, until it happened.
You gave him your sweater.
That was all it took for Midoriya to melt into a feverish, blubbering mess.
You tilted your head. "What is wrong?"
"N-nothing!" he squeaked. "It's just... why? Why are you–...!?"
"Midoriya is cold."
The adjusting of his jacket, the shakiness of his speech–
You, in all your innocence, thought Midoriya was cold.
In any other circumstance, Midoriya would have completely melted. After all, what else was he supposed to do? What was anyone supposed to do? You were such a sweetheart.
"I'm... okay," Midoriya began. "I'm just tired. We've been walking around a lot."
"I see." You folded your sweater, tucking it beneath your elbow. Your free arm extended towards Midoriya. "I can carry you."
Midoriya's smile froze permanently to his jaw.
Oh my God.
He was going to die early because of you.
He tried his best to hide behind his forearms. But that was useless, since his exposed palms were blushing too.
"I'm okay! Really!"
In any other circumstance, you would have replied with what you always said: "Okay."
After all, you never liked to pry.
But it kept repeating in your head, the sight of Midoriya's empty eyes.
You leaned down.
Nose-to-nose with Midoriya, you told him, "I will ask you once more, Midoriya."
He visibly gulped. "What is it...?"
"What is wrong?"
How many times had Midoriya heard that question?
Twice from you.
Countless from his mother.
She'd ask him every time he returned from school with burnt notebooks and a ruined uniform.
And every time, he'd reply with, "Nothing."
"Liar."
Midoriya froze.
You were pointing at him as you reiterated, "Midoriya is lying."
He bit his lip.
Damn it.
Midoriya had never been a good liar.
There was no point in trying to lie again, was there?
Once you were onto someone, there was no shaking you off.
And he hated lying. Especially to you.
If you hadn't seen the signs for yourself, you would have believed anything he told you.
You, who put all the trust in the world into Midoriya.
Midoriya, who tried to lie to you.
"...I'll tell you, okay? Just– just promise you won't get mad."
"Why would I be angry with Midoriya?"
Midoriya's small chuckle was void of any joy.
"I didn't mean me."
You found out who he meant when he pulled down the collar of his jacket.
Below his pulse, in the dip of his clavicle, were four fingerprints.
Your irises became the same shade as the bruises– bloody red.
As your gaze dragged upward to meet Midoriya's, you didn't blink once.
"Midoriya."
He flinched.
Usually, whenever you said his surname alone, it was always with a questioning intonation.
You weren't asking.
You were demanding.
Midoriya's instinct was to pacify your anger. His hands hovering before him, he stammered, "It's–! It's okay! Please don't get mad at–"
"Shigaraki Tomura."
Midoriya was yanked towards you.
You held him in front of you, one of your arms glowing blue. Coolant surged through your mechanical veins.
When it reached your fingers, your thumb gently pressed into his bruises. He winced.
"Please explain to me, Midoriya–..."
In the mirror, he could see the red hadn't left your irises.
"...the reason why I should not be angry with Shigaraki Tomura."
"It wasn't Shigaraki!"
You finally blinked. The red was gone.
Now that you'd calmed down, Midoriya took the chance to give himself some space to breathe. You let go without a fight.
Midoriya's heart was beating a mile a minute. He leaned his lower back against the sink, winded.
Too close!
Closing his eyes, he breathed in.
Calm down.
Calm down, and think of how to find the best outcome for this situation!
Midoriya craned his head back to look up at you. Likewise, you tucked your chin to lock eyes with Midoriya.
"It was not Shigaraki?"
"...No. It wasn't."
"If it was not Shigaraki–..." You brushed your thumb along Midoriya's collarbone and he shuddered. "...who?"
Why did Midoriya ever ask you to not get angry?
You would never get angry, not at him.
"Kacchan."
You turned to the doorway. "Hello, Baku–"
No one was there.
When you turned back to Midoriya, he was giving you a disgustingly bittersweet smile.
"It was Kacchan."
Your eyes widened.
When? When did Bakugou–
When you left him and Midoriya behind to go somewhere with Todoroki.
Brows furrowing the slightest, you asked Midoriya, "Bakugou hurt you to this extent?"
"Don't worry! It's not that bad."
You stared.
Not that bad?
This horrible bruising was the result of a clavicle grab, a brutal move used to force the opponent into submission. Done correctly, it sent even the strongest person down on their knees.
You knew this because direct submission was your fighting style.
Whether it was lighting up an entire forest or shooting someone in the leg, you used either fear tactics or physical force to push someone into submission.
Those were ways to wear the opponent down and have them surrender before you had to drag on the fight any longer.
You hated fighting.
"Friends should not fight each other."
"Don't... don't get mad at Kacchan, okay?"
You didn't say anything.
Was that even possible–? being angry with Bakugou. For him, you had all the patience in the world.
You got your answer when Midoriya said quietly, "This is normal."
"...No."
None of this was normal.
Why does Bakugou hate Midoriya?
That was a question you had asked once, and only once.
The answer you received was that he just did.
And you'd accepted it.
You'd accepted the insults, the beatings, everything.
Your definition of normal had been skewed from the very beginning.
All this time, while Midoriya did his best to protect you, you'd turned a cheek to his suffering.
A memory flashed by.
The day Midoriya and the others visited your room for the first time.
He'd mentioned getting bullied when he was younger. You'd asked him what that meant and he never told you.
The only thing he said was that you'd pity him if you knew. So, out of respect, you never looked up what the word meant.
You knew its meaning now.
It was whatever the hell Bakugou had been doing to Midoriya.
Your fingers dug into your sweater.
For how long...?
For how long... has Bakugou been hurting Midoriya?
Something soft and warm fell around Midoriya's shoulders.
You were wrapping him in your sweater.
It was so big that it reached Midoriya's knees. He was normally the one doing the protecting, but right now, he felt so small.
Midoriya got a whiff of your scent.
You smelled like a warm bed. A thick blanket. A soft pillow.
Midoriya had to stop himself from snuggling into your sweater.
"I'm fine!" he said, scrambling to take it off. "I'm not cold!"
Your hands swallowed his and he froze.
"I promised."
"Promised what...?"
"I promised to take care of you, not Bakugou."
Midoriya's vision blurred.
He bowed his head, teeth gritting together.
His whole life, he'd been nobody's first choice. Until All Might came along, he had no one. Even his own mother didn't believe in him. He could still hear her sobs as she apologized over and over.
And when Midoriya first saw you follow Bakugou like a lost puppy, he thought that was it. You'd chosen Bakugou.
Now he knew that wasn't true.
He grinned. Breathy laughter spilled out of him, along with his tears. They splashed onto the tiles below.
This was the one kind of rain you didn't like.
"Why is Midoriya crying?"
He hiccuped.
Your voice was so soft.
Back at the store, Todoroki swiveled his head about.
Where is he...?
He felt a touch on his shoulder.
It wasn't you.
Sero had stuck his elbow onto Todoroki. With a knowing grin, he wiggled his brows. "Looking for someone?"
"I wasn't looking for you."
"Ouch. You wound me, Mr. Todoroki."
"Oh. I did...? How?"
Sero sighed.
How were they friends?
A lightbulb went off over Sero's head and he perked up again. "Oh, yeah, by the way, what the heck were you guys doing all the way over at Shibuya Station?"
Todoroki began the process of rolling up a yukata he'd been mulling over. "We didn't go that far. We were just on the border."
"Aw, that's a shame."
"Is there something special about Shibuya Station?"
"I guess you could say that. For one, nothing weird happens there."
Todoroki paused his movements.
He took his attention off the yukata to face Sero. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oops. Am I scaring you?" Sero clapped his palms together as he chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. What I'm talking about isn't real or anything."
He answered Todoroki's questioning look by pulling a manga volume out of his bag. On the way back after Bakugou's game of Hide and Kill, Sero, Kaminari, and Ashido had hit up a few stores.
"This is Harajuku Goldfish. Basically, giant goldfish start spawning all over Harajuku. They eat people 'n stuff. Pretty funny, right?"
Todoroki looked genuinely concerned. His brows furrowed. "In Harajuku... there are giant goldfish... that eat people?"
"It's not real!"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry..."
"There, there." Sero gave Todoroki a playful pat on the head. He lowered his hand to flip through the pages. "It's just... the thing about Harajuku is that something bad always happens here."
"Sero!"
He turned to the left.
The one who had called out to him was Kirishima.
Hands on his knees, Kirishima was panting heavily. Sweat had soaked into the fabric of his headband. He took a painful breath of air.
Frowning, Todoroki stepped forward. "What happened?"
"Woah," said Sero, "What's going on? Where are Bakugou and–?"
"I can't find them!"
Midoriya sniffled.
Once he was sure that he could speak without making a fool of himself, he raised his head.
All of the color in his face drained in an instant.
Midoriya felt it, the fear he'd felt all those years ago.
"Midoriya? What is wrong?"
Third time's the charm.
"How long have you been here...?"
He wasn't talking to you.
You spun on your heel to follow Midoriya's trembling gaze.
The light from outside the entrance to the restroom cast an eerie shadow over Bakugou.
The entirety of his face was shrouded in black.
Except for his eyes.
For once, they weren't narrowing into a glare.
They were wide, wider than yours, burning straight through you to reach Midoriya.
"How long have you been here, Kacchan?"
He didn't answer.
"Bakugou."
His red eyes flicked to yours, the same color as his own.
"We need to talk."