~~~
Akira couldn't hide behind that wall forever, as much as she wanted to. She made a promise to her beloved. Though that memory of Kirishima in a fit of laughter, with Bakugou slightly smiling at his state is going to stay imprisoned in her mind for the next couple of hours at least. Akira will have to find a time to thank Bakugou for making Kirishima laugh again, though he won't be pleased in the slightest for her eavesdropping.
Kira had dragged Kirishima to the lift that evening, keeping her promise to her partner.
"We're gonna have to do it in the boys bathroom," Kira tells him.
"What?" He frowns as she pushes him into the lift. "Why?"
"Because the girls are still having their bath in the girls one," she tells him, as she leans into the lift to press the button. "Trust me, I'd rather we did it in the girls bathroom. More sanitary, don't you think?"
She pulls a semi-disgusted face at the thought of the boys bathroom and Kirishima looks slightly offended by the assumption.
"Now, hurry up and grab a shirt you don't mind getting dye on," she says to him, crossing her arms over her chest as the lift doors start to close.
He simply nods, probably a bit befuddled by her sudden brash and impatient behaviour. Kira's simply dying to spend more time with her partner and... she's also a little envious of Bakugou - seeing him being able to make Kirishima break out in a fit of laughter in a way she couldn't. She wanted to know his secrets.
She spun on the spot and marched back to the living room, hesitating slightly when she spots Bakugou deep in thought still perched on the edge of the sofa. She's surprised he hasn't decided to call it a night and head up to his dorm already. It's way past his eight thirty 'bedtime'.
Kira opens her mouth to present herself, but her tongue catches unknowingly. She was going to quip something about his and Kirishima's recent conversation but a part of her, a part that itched the back of her mind told her to leave it at that. That perhaps starting the conversation like that would only result in a negative result from the ill-tempered classmate.
"Hey," she says instead, standing there dumbly.
His head turns to the side ever so slightly, acknowledging her presence, but he doesn't reply.
"I, uh...," she stammers, suddenly nervous of the conversation. "I heard a little bit of that," she says, hoping he gets what she's insinuating. "I haven't actually heard him like that in a while, so... thanks?"
"Thanks?" He echoes, followed by a scoff. "Like it was just a meaningless job for me to do?"
Kira blinks at the retort. "No, I-I didn't mean it like that," she says snappily. "And you know it." She pauses, stepping over into his field of view, his hands clenched together in front of his chin. The only thing that moves are his eyes as he watches her storm into the room. "You know exactly what I meant by that, Bakugou," she fumes. "You know what he's been like lately. You were there when we first found him, lying in that damn hospital bed." Her voice betrays her at the very end, cracking just as she uttered the last two words, like just mentioning it snatched her back to when he appeared so weak and helpless.
Bakugou's eyes simply narrowed as her voice ran away from her, wanting to be rid of this painful conversation already, not wanting the bad memories to surge back again. Kira huffed heavily and put her hands on her hips as she stared down at the carpeted floor under her feet.
"Dammit," she whispers, before looking up sharply. "Damn you, Bakugou."
Bakugou scoffs again for the thousandth time that evening, the sound muffled behind his hands and slowly stands up off the sofa, rising nearly half a head taller than herself. He takes a few steps before stopping beside her, his head turning an inch like he did a few minutes prior.
"Glad I could be of service," he quips.
Kira hadn't even realised that her breath had escaped her when Bakugou left her standing there, flabbergasted by his response. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she felt frozen - only turning slowly when the lift dinged its arrival and Kira heard Kirishima's voice down the hall.
Kira clears her throat before answering her partner. "In here!" She calls.
Kirishima joins Kira, stealing a quick glance back at the closing lift doors before doing so. "You okay?"
"Yeah." She shrugs. "Time to do your hair!"
Kirishima looks unsure, but lets Kira drag him towards the boys bathroom. Kirishima does a quick check and gives Kira the all clear, sticking a big thumbs up out the door. Kira nods in satisfaction, entering after her beloved and she can't help but check out their bathroom, wondering if it has extra details that the girls do not have.
However, they're exactly the same; same colouring, same size, same amount of accessories. Kind of boring, actually - she wanted something to nickpick on. Even so, Kira dragged one of the few plastic chairs they had lying around in the open space by the lockers and Kirishima grabbed his towel, wrapping it around his shoulders.
"Thanks for doing this, Akira," he says, looking back up at her adoringly.
Kira hesitates at hearing the words, reminiscing on her conversation with Bakugou.
"Thanks?" He echoes, followed by a scoff. "Like it was just a meaningless job for me to do?"
She brushes off the haunting remembrance of her despicable classmate and returns the gesture, her heart swelling at her partner's uncomplicated beauty.
"No problem," she says, fighting the urge to ruffle his messy curls. "I have to be honest, this is my first time doing this sort of thing."
"I don't mind," he replies without hesitation. "I trust you."
Kira feels relief flood off her shoulders and opens the packet of hair dye. She follows the instructions on the box and mixes in the necessary requirements.
"Okay," she breathes out nervously, smacking on the gloves. "Here goes."
Kirishima just smiles as Kira dabs the brush into the dye and starts dabbing around the roots, peeking over with her mouth open in concentration. She had no reason to lean to see his hair better, as Kirishima had already sat himself down on the chair that she had brought over. He kept silent as she continued to add the dye to his head, marvelling at her as she did.
Kira stole a glance at her partner in the mirror, feeling his eyes on her. "What?" She barks amongst a chuckle.
"Nothing," he replies, though he's hiding a smirk that's itching to reveal itself. "It's just..." He looks away, almost sheepishly. "You look really cute- focusing like that."
Kira feels her cheeks go red at the compliment and she has to look away, nearly diving her entire face into the dish of red hair dye to escape the moment.
"I-I'm sorry," Kirishima apologises suddenly, turning slightly, trying not to flick hair dye everywhere. "I shouldn't have sai-"
"No," she blurts, grabbing him by the shoulders. "You sit there. Stay."
Her blood surges around the top of her head and a quick glance in the mirror alerts her that she's as bright as a tomato right now. His comment completely took her off guard, her conflicting thoughts rattling around in her brain.
She just hard a short argument with Bakugou that left her conflicted with emotions and now Kirishima springs that on her. Kira allows herself a shaky breath, clearing her throat and facing the mirror again, her cheeks a slight pink tinge still, but better than they were a few seconds ago.
"Where were we?" She decides to say, wanting to ignore that moment entirely, not because of the comment itself, but because of how she reacted - it was embarrassing! "Right," she tuts, dabbing the brush on Kirishima's head again.
"I can probably do the rest myself now," Kirishima suggests quietly.
Kira frowns in the mirror at her partner. "Why?" She says. "Am I doing something wrong?"
"No!" He blurts quickly. "I just thought-"
"Thought what?" Kira urges, the brush paused on the top of his head in case she actually is doing something wrong.
"I dunno." Kirishima shrugs lightly, aware of the equipment around him.
"Just say it, Kiri," she pushes.
Kirishima meets her eyes in the mirror. "Isn't it a little awkward now?"
Kira blinks at him. "Awkward how?"
"I shouldn't have just said that randomly."
"No," she hesitates, followed by a meek, unconvincing one shoulder shrug. "It's not awkward. I just didn't expect it, that's all."
"Uh huh," he hums, uncertainly.
"Did... did you want me to stop?" She asks, tilting her head to the side as she removes the brush from his head.
"No!" His voice rises, nearly in desperation, his arm snapping back almost instinctively and grabbing her wrist. "Don't go."
Kirishima slowly releases his cool grip on her wrist and Kira instantly misses his touch. She watches his hand slide down to his lap again and Kira had to shake herself from her daze.
"Fine," she whispers, slowly continuing with the dye.
As Kira leans over slightly, making sure she's gotten every inch of his roots, she feels her partners gaze on her in the mirror and suddenly the air's changed. The atmosphere is thick with a tension that is unknown to her, new and foreign. She feels it in her, in Kirishima and in the room around them, floating like invisible butterflies, wafting the intensity across the hairs on her skin, tickling her down to the core.
Kira straightens like she's been electrocuted, nearly throwing the brush back into the small black dish with a little leftover dye.
"Uh." She clears her uneasy throat, her voice wavering. "I'm all done."
"Done?" He repeats.
"Yeah, I think so."
Kira tears off the gloves, tossing them by the box and rubs the back of her neck with her hand, not caring if she ends up getting dye stained on her skin, just anything to calm the hairs on the back of her neck from standing on end.
Kirishima checks himself out in the mirror and Kira chuckles lightly. "Thought you trusted me?" She tries a joke to rid herself of this tension.
He returns the laugh. "'Course I do," he remarks. "Just checking out your handiwork."
Kirishima stands from the plastic chair with a soft grunt, having been sat there for about twenty minutes and Kira stifles a gulp when he stands tall before her. He's just a little shorter than Bakugou.
Kira scoffs quietly, looking down at the tiled bathroom floor. Why the hell did he slip into her head at a time like this?
"You did a good job," Kirishima tells her and she looks up to find him merely a few inches away from her. "For your first time."
Kira allows herself to scoff loudly this time. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should." He frowns, before hesitating. "I said I was sorry for... saying what I said earlier," Kirishima adds, fumbling over his words ever so slightly. "But I don't regret it." Kira frowns at his statement. "Not just now, but during lessons and training; you really do look cute when you concentrate."
Kira snorts her response. "Wow." She struggles to hide her smile. "So your birthday has given you a newfound confidence, has it?"
"I think so." He nods slightly in affirmation. "I am finally sixteen after all."
"Yes, you are," Kira responds, keeping up with the banter.
She feels her cheeks growing hotter by the second, trying and failing to ignore Kirishima's hand play with a strand of hair that had escaped her plait, before tucking it behind her ear. She had lost the entire function of breathing when his cold fingers trail down her cheek and to her chin, causing shivers to run down her spine.
"Are you hurting at all?" He asks suddenly, catching Kira off guard.
"What do you mean?" She frowns her reply.
His tender, cold fingers delicately trace from her chin up to the thin cut along her hairline. Kira doesn't even flinch when he ever so gingerly strokes the marking, as if analysing a cryptic painting.
"Oh, that," Akira says, her hand reaching up to her own wound. "It's nothing, honest. Otherwise I wouldn't even be here, would I?"
Her ribs still ache slightly, but somehow being with Kirishima has made the pain simply disappear.
"I guess so," Kirishima concedes. "Just- be careful in future?"
Kira laughs gently. "Nothing careful about being a hero, Kiri," she replies.
"I get that." Kirishima looks down at his healing arms. "I get it more than anyone."
"Hey," Kira says softly and her beloved meets her eyes again. "Are you okay?"
"Me?" He brushes off the feeling. "Yeah, I'm good."
That tension that's been hovering around the last half an hour like a strand of mistletoe is now thick with the unspoken words between the two of them. Words that Kira isn't sure she wants said out loud just yet.
"I take it that's your hair dye shirt, then?" Kira says in a pitiful attempt to run away from the passion that swamps the both of them.
She sneaks away from Kirishima, her back to her partner with her arms crossed, her mind swimming. She's doesn't care about his stupid shirt - she just doesn't know what to do with the emotions cramping deep in her gut.
"Uh" - Kirishima clears his throat - "yeah, this one's pretty old now... been using it since I started dying my hair."
Kirishima doesn't move from his spot, now uncertain of the confusing tension that remains around them.
"That's why..." Kira trails off, followed by a meek scoff.
"What?" Kirishima urges and she can feel his concerned frown on his face already.
Akira sighs heavily, frustrated at this feeling between them. It's exhausting. She spins around to her partner.
"I said: 'that's why it's so tight on you', okay?"
Kirishima looks down at himself, tugging the shirt out slightly, as if he had forgotten what he was wearing. The white shirt, covered in dye stains around the collar with a few drops further down the front.
"Is that what the problem is?" He asks innocently, tilting his head to the side.
Kira looks elsewhere before she answers. "I wouldn't exactly call it a problem," she mumbles.
"Huh?"
Kira snaps herself to her senses, pushing Kirishima to one of the showers, not giving him a chance to think of a reply.
"Time to wash it out now, what do you think?" She says, pushing him by the small of his back towards the nearest cubicle.
"It's been half an hour, already?"
"Uh, close enough," she says, with a grunt.
Kira shoves him into the shower room, turning the faucet on and then slamming the door shut, it rattling against the lock.
"You could've at least let me taken my shirt off first," he shouts after a few seconds.
Kira feels her skin go pink at the comment and she she shakes her head harshly, feeling a few more strands of annoying hair come free. She slaps her cheeks a little, trying to vanish the heat from her features. Kira approaches the sink, staring at the dish on the side and then into the mirror before her, marvelling at her flustered expression; her eyes wide and sparkling, her cheeks red and not appearing to go back to normal, making her freckles even more prominent.
She curses under her breath, wanting to calm her heart rate before Kirishima finishes washing the dye out of his hair. She splashes some cold water on her features, blinking away the coolness and dabbing her cheeks with the back of her hand.
Kira spins with her back against the sink, probably drenching her pyjama shirt, but Kira doesn't care at this point, anything to cool down her frazzled nerves. This newfound tension she's feeling in this moment can only mean their attraction towards each other has grown to this level. A level where they could potentially feel this safe and comfortable with each other already.
It's only been seven months since they first met back at the start of the school year, not including their entrance exam, of course. Kira can't excuse the state of two hormonal teenagers - it's just something that happens. She's surprised that her friends haven't found themselves attracted to anyone else in school the way Kira has for Kirishima.
But, was Kira ready to take that leap?
The shower door opened as she finished that thought, her partner stepping out with his hair all wet and dripping onto his wet, white shirt, which has now stuck to his skin underneath. Kira feels her knees tremble at the sight of him and she grips the towel in her hands.
"I probably should've taken the shirt off anyway, huh?"
Kira doesn't say anything and takes a few uncertain steps closer before practically throwing the towel in his face.
"Thanks," he says, dabbing his face with it and ruffling his hair in the towel. "So?" He gestures with his hands out, lowering his head so she can see his roots. "How's it look?"
Kira let's her eyes roam over her partner completely, lost for words. "Perfect," she breathes out finally.
The tone of her voice must have caught Kirishima's attention because he looks back up ever so slowly, letting the towel drop to the floor at their feet.
Kira traced every inch of his features, her vision glossing over every perfection; the way the droplets of water balanced on his lashes before slipping and tracing the curve of his cheekbones, the way the curls of his hair framed his beauty, resting against his jawline and Kira wanted to reach out and feel his hair tickling the base of his neck. So, she did.
Her fingers played with the tiniest of strands and Kirishima gazed down at her, his eyes heavy-lidded with an aching she's never noticed before. Kira felt his wet shirt against her pyjama top and the curse ran through her mind, before vanishing in an instant to be replaced by a thought she didn't even know she was capable of imagining.
A smile threatened to ruin the moment, so Kira closed the gap between them, her lips only just brushing against his and she felt the heat from earlier return, enveloping them both in their own personal bubble, completely cut off from the world.
That is, until Kirishima pulled away and Kira's eyes flutter open to his avoidance. He's looking elsewhere, his eyes cast away in guilt and diffidence. Kirishima's never been known to be nervous before, not when it came to them. Something else must be bothering him - something he's keeping hidden.
"Kiri?" She starts, tilting her head to get his attention. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he mumbles, still avoiding eye contact. "It's late. I should get back to my dorm."
All Akira can do is frown quizzically at her partner, not sure where this sudden change in behaviour appeared from. Unless, she had completely misread the situation they're in. But, Kirishima was quite forward with his motions too, she's sure of it. Kira wasn't acting on her own emotions - she felt it, like their minds were one, their feelings intertwined.
Kirishima turns to leave, picking up the towel that had fallen to his feet and Kira's hand latches out before she can even stop herself.
"But, I... I don't understand," she admits. "I thought we-"
"Like I said," he cuts her off, not looking back at her. "It's late. I need to..."
Kira waits patiently for Kirishima to finish his thought, but he doesn't. He stares ahead at the door, just waiting for Kira to release his shirt. Kira's mind races as she watches in silence as Kirishima leaves her alone in the boys bathroom, feeling dumb and dejected.
Perhaps, they had moved too quickly and the sudden tension spooked him. But, it felt like he was the one who instigated the emotions when he complimented her. She's so damn confused. It was going so well. What the hell happened?
Kira hesitated before washing the dye bowl in the sink and tossing the remains in the bin by the door, not really caring about any other mess that may have been left behind.
Why did he pull away so suddenly?
Why wouldn't he look at her?
This bluntness must have something to do with how he's been emotionally feeling lately and she won't let him push her away so easily. She doesn't want him to be alone.
Kira leaves the boys bathroom, not wanting to include herself in any more festivities for tonight. Whatever the girls come up with tomorrow, Kira's sure it'll be just fine for Kirishima, if he even cares about how much work they're all putting into it.
Kira waits for the lift, trying to push the haunting thoughts from her mind, trying to convince herself that his change in attitude is due to his current mental wellbeing, and not because of other factors that she's dreading to even let cross her mind. But of course, doubts have a sneaky way of slithering into one's mind when they're at their weakest.
Perhaps, she shouldn't have followed her gut. Perhaps, she should focus her mindset elsewhere. After all, how is being with Kirishima going to advance her Quirks in any way? At this point, all he is right now is a distraction. He's on her mind constantly.
Those thoughts don't even feel right. They feel wrong and make her cringe.
But... the warmth. That ache in her gut when she's close to him. That longing to be in his arms again. It pained her. She's so completely devoted to him.
But.
But. Does Kirishima feel this way for her? As badly as she longs for him, as badly as she craves him, she'll never know what goes on in his fractured mind.
The lift arrives at the fourth floor and Kira chuckles to herself quietly, her hand hesitating on the handle of her dorm room.
It's funny how quickly one fragile moment can turn into just another mistake.
~~~