{Past}
-9 years earlier-
-Eijirou-
"Hey... do you guys know why that kid always sits alone?"
"Huh? Who?" Simultaneously, Ishida and Sato twisted in their seats to see where Kirishima's eyes were pointing. It only took them a second to realize who he was talking about; it was blatantly obvious. The only person in that corner of the cafeteria, surrounded by an entire table of empty seats while others had crowded around nearby tables in an evident effort to remain distant from him, was a spiky-haired blonde kid with a semi-permanent indignant frown twisting up his whole face. In front of him was a tattered blue lunch box that he was shuffling through, yanking lunch items out of it like the poorly made sandwich and bag of crushed up potato chips had personally offended him.
The same way Ishida and Sato had turned to see him, they swiveled back in perfect unison, eyes wide. "Dude, you seriously don't know?" Sato asked, appalled.
Kirishima felt himself frown as his eyes landed back on his friends. "Should I?"
"Yes!" Ishida practically squeaked. "That's Bakugou. Literally everybody knows better than to sit next to him."
"What? Why? What did he do?"
"Well, nothing's confirmed of what he's done yet. Right now it's just a buncha rumors. But the one thing we do know is about his Quirk," Sato began, voice hushed.
Growing impatient, Kirishima brought his palms down onto the table. "What about his Quirk? And why are you guys whispering?" he demanded.
"Shh!" the two others hissed, again at the same time. "They say if he hears you talking about him he'll blow your brains out," Ishida said.
"What the hell are you guys talking about?!"
"Alright, alright! Don't lose your shit, man," Sato said, holding his hands up.
"So then what's his Quirk?"
Sato and Ishida exchanged a look, and one that had Kirishima deciding that if they didn't tell him within the next two seconds, he was going to go ask this 'Bakugou' personally what his damn Quirk was.
"You tell him," Ishida mumbled to Sato. "I don't wanna say it."
Sato's eyes finally met Kirishima's again. "Explosion," he said in an eerie voice. "That's his Quirk."
"Really?" Kirishima mumbled, his back straightening, his eyes sliding over to the blonde across the room. He was halfway through chomping through that sandwich, keeping his angry glare pointed straight down at the table as if expecting to burn a hole through it.
"Yeah, man."
"Like, that Explosion?"
"Yup," Ishida said with a visible shudder. "The exact same one."
"How did you not know about that, man? Rumors were flying all over campus the first couple weeks of school when he was transferred here."
"Kiri was out sick the first two weeks of school, remember?" Ishida said. "And once that thing went down with Midoriya, everyone was too scared to keep talking about it. It's no wonder he didn't hear anything until now."
"Wait, what thing went down with Midoriya? Why are you guys being so vague?"
"'Cause like I said, man, if he hears you, he'll try and blow your brain out," Sato said. It seemed as though with every sentence their voices became more and more hushed, and with the chatter echoing through the cafeteria, Kirishima was leaning forward so far his shirt was nearly in his food just to make out their words.
"Okay, but what happened with Midoriya?" he pressed.
Kirishima's friends exchanged that look again. "You tell him. I told him the Quirk," Sato said.
With a pout, Ishida huffed, her emerald eyes falling back on Kirishima. "Guess Midoriya has known him for kind of a long time. Since they were kids, supposedly. And y'know, since Midoriya doesn't have a Quirk, he makes fun of him. A lot. Like, flaunting his own ability in front of the poor kid who can't even defend himself. And one day a couple of weeks ago, Midoriya tried being nice and offering to let him sit at their lunch table, and he just got, like, super mad and used his Quirk to turn Midoriya's lunch bag to ash while he yelled at him and stuff before he stormed out. Everybody thought he was gonna get at least suspended, but they only gave him cleaning duty detention for a week."
Kirishima blinked at her a few times when the story was over, trying to picture innocent little Midoriya Izuku getting bullied by the blonde across the room. "Did you guys actually see this happen?" he asked.
"Well... no," Sato mumbled. "We just heard about it. So maybe it's not all true, but something definitely happened because we did see him doing his detention time."
"And like we said, no one even wants to talk about him anymore 'cause they're scared of what he might do."
Finally, Kirishima leaned back, once again looking over at the blonde who had his head tipped back, emptying potato chip crumbs into his mouth from the little plastic baggy they were in. Sure, he looked kind of abrasive. But only kind of. Really, more than anything, he looked lonely sitting at such a big table without anyone beside him to tell him stupid jokes and laugh with him.
"Don't you guys think that's a little unfair, though? To judge a guy you don't even know because of his Quirk?" Kirishima found himself asking.
"C'mon, Kiri! You heard the story about how he bullied Midoriya! He's practically on the same path as The Bo—"
"Oh my god, don't say it!" Ishida screeched as she slapped her hands to her ears like a little kid.
"I think you guys are overreacting," Kirishima reasoned.
"Dude, that's like going to the same school as a freakin' serial killer's kid," Sato said. "Acutally, it's worse. I mean, maybe he's not directly related to that villain, but he's got the same Quirk. That, plus all the anger and the bullying, definitely isn't a good sign."
"But he's a different person, even if he has the same Quirk, man. The Bomber's been dead for almost two decades now, anyway. There's no way he could be his son."
"But with a Quirk like that, no way he wouldn't grow up to be a villain. It's probably ingrained in him, y'know? And damn, sorry if I don't wanna be a victim of mass genocide?"
Kirishima could only shake his head at his friends. It felt incredibly wrong to be condemning some kid they barely knew over something he very clearly couldn't control, even if it was something he had in common with who everyone said was one of the worst villains in history. It wasn't like it was Bakugou's fault that The Bomber essentially committed mass genocide using his Explosion Quirk with Quirk-boosting drugs. Nor was it Bakugou's fault that he somehow inherited that same exact Quirk—supposedly.
And past the scowl and the way he was crumpling the plastic baggies his food had been stored in, Kirishima couldn't help thinking he really did look lonely, even if it only was because of the giant table surrounded by empty chairs he sat at. He knew what loneliness like that felt like, and just seeing the blonde by himself manifested memories of that terribly empty feeling.
"What would you guys do if I went over and sat with him?" Kirishima asked. It sounded like a joke, like one of those stupid pranks middle schoolers often played on others to make fun of and laugh at them. But no, he was completely serious.
Sato and Ishida laughed anyway. "Call you an ambulance, probably," Sato snorted.
"Hey, I'm serious," pressed Kirishima. "Maybe he just needs a friend, you know?"
"Kiri, I don't think he wants friends," Ishida said cautiously. "If he did, don't you think he would sit with someone? Like Midoriya, since he offered?"
"I don't think he's sitting alone entirely by choice, guys. You already told me everybody wants to avoid him. I think people are staying away from him rather than the other way around."
Wordlessly, Sato craned his neck around to peer at Bakugou. "I dunno, man. I don't recommend it, but hey, it's your funeral."
"Hey, that's probably why he's mean," Kirishima defended. "'Cause everyone expects him to be some sort of villain. Maybe he's not like that."
Surprisingly, Ishida gave him a smile. It wasn't exactly an encouraging one, but she sounded at least a little proud when she said, "That's our Kiri—always giving everyone the benefit of the doubt."
"Looks like you missed your chance though, dude," said Sato. Kirishima's eyes bounced back across to the blonde, who was standing up and tossing his backpack, tattered and torn in the same way his lunchbox was, over his shoulder. "Looks like he's headed outside already."
"Crap," Kirishima mumbled, quickly tossing his trash on his tray. "I'm gonna catch up to him, okay? I'll see you guys after school," he said. Hurriedly, he fumbled to grab his own things and then nearly tripped as he stumbled toward the trash can and the tray station. Just before he dumped the contents of his lunch tray into the trash, a flash of bright, shiny green caught his eye. Upon further inspection, he found it to be a silk ribbon with gold lettering across it, and definitely not something that belonged in the trash.
With two fingers he pinched it and pulled it out to read the sewn in inscription:
Happy Birthday, Bakugou.
Frowning, Kirishima quickly dumped his tray before haphazardly stacking it with the others. Keeping hold of the ribbon, he started after the blonde.
Kirishima was practically forced to jog to catch up to Bakugou, who was already halfway down the hall to the doors that led to the recess area. Even though his feet were slapping the linoleum rather loudly to catch up, the blonde didn't turn around—not until Kirishima was calling after him, anyway.
"Hey!" he called breathlessly just as he caught up. "Hey, man," he said, waving the little green ribbon in front of the blonde. "I think you threw this away by accident."
In the next second, Kirishima knew he would never forget the instant Bakugou's piercing gaze landed right on him. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and narrowed, wrinkled at the edges, and an intense brown so dark they were almost black. His long lashes that somehow, despite his blonde hair, were thick and black, brushed his cheekbones when he blinked. Beneath that cold stare were subtle dark circles and bags beginning to form, though Kirishima probably wouldn't have noticed them had he not been so close.
Bakugou's thin blonde brows were smashed together, and his mouth had instantly twisted up into a hard scowl when he'd turned to face Kirishima. A little unnerved as he was coming into contact with that glare, Kirishima smiled and held up the ribbon again. Bakugou hadn't even stopped walking.
"Who the fuck are you?" the blonde growled in a gruff voice, already deepened by puberty, unlike Kirishima's own.
"Kirishima Eijirou," he said cheerfully, holding out a hand in offering.
Bakugou promptly ignored it. "Go away."
"Don't you want your ribbon?"
"Fuck no. I threw it away on purpose."
Kirishima felt his smile fade. "How come? It looks like it was made specially for you."
"'S none of your goddamn business, fuckstick. Now leave me alone."
"C'mon, man. I saw you sitting alone. It can't be fun to be alone on your birthday," Kirishima countered.
Bakugou shoved the door open, a rush of warm, rain-scented April air rushed in to meet them. He didn't bother holding the door, of course, but Kirishima persisted in keeping up with him, even as he was crossing the asphalt toward the fence that lined the area and closed them in.
"I'm always alone. Like I want to be right now," Bakugou spat.
"Alright, alright, a guy can take a hint," Kirishima said in surrender. "But at least take this, okay? It's not nice to throw out gifts." He held up the ribbon once more.
Bakugou finally stopped and whirled around. His backpack nearly smacked right into Kirishima, who didn't so much as budge as that stare fell right on him again. "Why the fuck are you talking to me?"
"Why not?"
"Don't you know who the fuck I am?"
"No. I mean, I've heard about you, but I don't know you."
"Then that should be enough for you to run screaming to your mommy," Bakugou muttered. "Nobody fucking talks to me 'cause of who I am, and you're probably just fulfilling some shitty dare, right? What's in it for you? Money?"
Again Kirishima's face fell. "No, man. Nobody dared me to do anything. I just wanted to return your ribbon. And then if you want, we can go get a basketball and—"
Suddenly, the green ribbon was snatched from between Kirishima's fingers. Bakugou had yanked it from him and, just before it settled in the palm of his hand, a small explosion—one that couldn't be any bigger than a simple firecracker—erupted from Bakugou's palm, promptly disintegrating it. The ashes were blown away in a cool breeze before they could even float to the ground.
"See? Now you're fuckin' scared."
But Bakugou's interpretation of Kirishima's widened eyes had been completely off. "No, man! That was awesome!" he said, smiling easily again. "I mean it's a shame about the gift, but your Quirk is seriously cool."
For once, Bakugou's face relaxed, but it was into an expression of complete bafflement rather than one of relent. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Uhm... nothing?"
"Like hell there isn't! Shouldn't you be fucking terrified like every other shitrag in this school?!"
Kirishima could only blink at him, dumbfounded. He could think of nothing to say, so after a moment Bakugou had just shrugged around him without another word and left him standing there on the asphalt by himself.
Kirishima could take a hint, and he understood that Bakugou wanted to be left alone—but he wasn't convinced he really wanted isolation from everyone else. There was no way a kid who had no friends and sat alone at lunch every day could want to always be alone. Kirishima knew what it was like to be so alone, and he also knew that even the strongest, hardest of hearts couldn't take such loneliness and not suffer. There was no way he was going to give up.
He'd given it a little less than a week since initially talking to Bakugou before making a move to approach him again. It was on a rare day when the busses were late picking them up, leaving a mob of temporarily rideless kids standing on the sidewalk waiting. Kirishima had been staring down the street a little ways when Ishida waved her hand in front of his face, bringing his attention back to her.
"What are you staring at, Kiri?" she asked.
"Huh? Oh... him," said Kirishima, jerking his chin in the direction of a blonde tuft of hair over a pair of hunched shoulders, slowly moving further and further away as he seemed to trudge down the sidewalk.
"Him again?" Ishida mumbled, evident disappointment seeping into her tone.
"D'you know why he walks home alone?" Kirishima asked her without looking away from Bakugou.
"I dunno. There are rumors that the bus drivers refuse to take him home, but I think it's just 'cause he lives too far away and the bus routes don't go by his house," she told him. "Why are you so hung up on him, anyway?"
"'Cause nobody deserves to be so alone all the time," Kirishima told her. "I think I'm gonna go walk with him."
Just as Kirishima started off in the direction of Bakugou, ready to break into a jog to catch up, a hand caught his shoulder and stopped him. He promptly shook it off, frowning at the girl behind him.
"What?"
"Are you crazy?" she said, eyes wide. "Are you trying to get hurt or something?!"
"He won't hurt me, Ishida," Kirishima told her firmly. He held up a fist, and, unbothered if anyone was watching—knowing using Quirks in public is against the rules—hardened his arm. "He can't."
"But Kiri—"
"I'll be okay," he reassured her with a smile. "Go ahead and get on the bus without me. I promise I'll call you when I make it home, okay?" He was halfway down the sidewalk as he shouted at her; she could only watch him go with wide, worried and confused eyes. He spared her just one last wave before he pivoted around and jogged to catch up with Bakugou.
Fortunately he'd been walking along at a slow pace, making it easy to reach and sidle up with him. Bakugou turned as soon as he heard the slapping of shoes against concrete impending and that same hardened scowl as before greeted Kirishima.
"What the hell do you want?" he grumbled before Kirishima could say a word.
"Nothin', just decided to walk with you," Kirishima told him casually, hooking his thumbs through the straps of his backpack and falling easily into step beside the other.
"Hmph. Why?" Bakugou's hard stare cut away from Kirishima. He sidestepped a bit to put some distance between them.
"'Cause it's a nice day, man, and I live in this direction, too."
"And? Why the fuck are you walking with me?" Bakugou spat. "Shouldn't you be running away screaming like everybody else who gets near me?"
That again. Kirishima's brow pressed into a frown as he glanced back over at Bakugou, though his gaze was not met as he hoped it might be. "No?" he said. "Should I have a reason to? Do you plan on hurting me or something?"
A long pause followed Kirishima's question; Bakugou's hands slipped into his pockets, his shoulders hunching even more. "...no," he responded finally. "Not yet, anyway, unless you keep annoying me."
Gently Kirishima nudged Bakugou with his elbow, an easy smile replacing his frown. "Aw c'mon, dude. I'm not afraid of you." He held up his hand, grabbing Bakugou's attention. "Plus, I have my own way of protecting myself." As he explained he curled his fingers into a fist, activating his Quirk and hardening the lower half of his arm.
Bakugou's eyes only lingered for a minute before he went back to deliberately avoiding eye contact with Kirishima. "Good for you," he mumbled. "But you never answered why you're walking with me."
"'Cause I see you're alone a lot," Kirishima said, his voice edging on a gentler side. "And... I kinda know what that's like, so I thought maybe you'd like to walk with someone." The sentence was punctuated by a halfhearted shrug.
"And his the fuck would you know what it's like to be alone? Don't you have a bunch of shitty friends or whatever?"
For an instant, a pigment of elation bubbled up in Kirishima's chest. Bakugou had paid attention to him before—he had known of his existence before the other day at lunch. For someone who tended to feel pretty invisible to anyone who he wasn't friends with, that was pretty amazing, especially coming from someone like Bakugou.
But that, for now, was beside the point. "...my parents are away a lot," he said tentatively.
"Hmph. That sucks."
Kirishima reached up and ruffled a hand through his hair, trying to swallow around the sudden thickness in his throat. "...yeah. So, um, hey—have you played the new Smash Bros game yet?" he blurted.
It was a minute before Bakugou answered, and Kirishima easily picked up on the roughness of his voice when he did. "No. My foster parents don't let me play video games."
Foster parents. Oh. Kirishima did his best to pretend his stepping didn't falter. "Really? Dude, that sucks," he said in an attempt to cover it up; inside, though, he was reeling from this new information. It explained so much, and yet left him with tons more questions. "Hey, how 'bout you come to my house sometime and we can play it together?"
"Why should I?" Bakugou was quick to respond.
"'Cause it's fun. I think you'd like it," Kirishima reasoned.
"Idiot. You say that like you know me," scoffed Bakugou.
"Touche... but if you come, I can get to know you," he pointed out, a grin finding its way onto his lips in pride that he'd thought of an excuse—a reason to hang out with Bakugou. "Whattaya say? Your foster parents will let you hang out with a friend, right?"
"We're not friends."
"Well no, not yet, anyway."
Bakugou's eyes snapped back to his left, landing in a somewhat confused glare on Kirishima. "How damn persistent can you be?" he huffed.
Kirishima let himself shrug. "I dunno. I mean, you don't have to come over. I just thought it would be fun."
For once, Bakugou didn't respond right away and in the silence Kirishima tried to predict what he might say when he did speak up again—if he did. "Don't you have some other shitty friends to play with?" "Why are you so damn annoying?" "I don't wanna hang out with someone who's got such a lame Quirk, that's why I don't hang out with anyone."
But it turned out to be none of those things. They'd gone at least another block before Kirishima himself decided to break the quiet.
"So, is that a no?" he asked cautiously.
"I'll fucking think about it."
Just like that, Kirishima let a smile push his cheeks up toward his eyes. "Alright! That works out, 'cause my parents are leaving for another trip abroad next week, so we won't have to worry about 'em."
"What, your shitty parents just leave you home alone all the time?"
"Uh, yeah." The smile faltered a bit. "They do. But there's usually a housekeeper around I can talk to," he said with a shrug. "She won't bother us, though. Um, if you decide to come, that is."
"Hmph."
"So uh, good timing 'cause I gotta turn here," Kirishima said, jabbing a thumb down the next right turn. "Come find me and let me know, okay? My parents leave next Tuesday, so any time after that is good!" he called after the other when he made the turn.
"You're an idiot," Bakugou muttered.
Kirishima only laughed. "See ya, Bakugou!"
---
Published: 7/10/19
Word count: 3,713
Song Artist: P!nk