Chapter Text
Midoriya decides that Kaminari's injury isn't infected- is healing well, in fact- and Kaminari accepts his diagnosis with only the barest hint of skepticism.
Tragedy, Kaminari's learned, can be slow. It's not always waking up to a world on fire. Sometimes it starts with a limp. A scratch.
A fever.
And yeah, Bakugou Katsuki appeared in a spray of blood like an avenging angel, but it doesn't mean Kaminari's truly been saved, or that he won't die tomorrow, or the day after that.
He swallows awkwardly when he realizes Midoriya is watching him curiously, then scoots his chair to the opposite side of the room where Bakugou is sitting at a cluttered desk, fiddling with a walkie talkie.
Bakugou glances at Kaminari out of the corner of his eye.
"Do you have to sit so close?"
Kaminari scoots a few inches closer, his knee pressed against Bakugou's leg and his chin hovering dangerously close to the other boy's shoulder.
"That wasn't an invitation," Bakugou says.
"What are you doing?"
"Hunting," Bakugou replies sarcastically.
There's a crackle, then a hum, then the shift of Bakugou's tense shoulders as he leans closer to the speaker.
"Shitty Hair, this is Great Explosion Muder God Dynamight. Do you copy?"
Kaminari holds his breath while he waits for a response, eyes glued to the small device.
A dark room, aching ribs, a terrible pounding at the other side of the warehouse door, ceasless, ceaseless, ceaseless.
"Shinso, are you there?"
"I'm here," Shinso gasped. "I'm- where are you? I can't see."
A woman laughs brightly from the other side of the radio and it snaps Kaminari out of his memory.
"Do you have a superhero fetish?" she asks.
Bakugou's expression sours. Kaminari watches his shoulders untense, slightly, and recognizes the gesture for relief.
"Fuck you, Raccoon Eyes. Where's Shitty Hair?"
"I thought our code names were Eagle," she continues, unbothered in a way that pierces Kaminari right through the grime of the last four years, the ones that feel like they stretch on forever; that make him wonder in the quiet, agonzining hours of the night if there ever really was anything Before, or if everyone was just gathering their breath for one, primal, drawn-out, dying scream.
There's laughter in this girl's voice.
Wanting sits heavy in Kaminari's chest.
"You know, like, I'm Eagle One," she says.
"No," Bakugou denies immediately.
"And Kiri's Eagle Two, and you're Eagle Butthead."
Bakugou snatches the reciever from the desk and brings it close to his mouth. "Who's being fucking immature now, huh?"
"Still you, Temper Tantrum."
"I'm not-" Bakugou starts to deny, before visibly reigning in his temper. Kaminari casts a glance behind his back, where Midoriya is bent over the little pull-out table muffling his laughter in his fist.
Kaminari starts to crack a careful smile.
"Where. Is Shitty Hair," Bakugou asks thinly. The backs of his ears are bright red.
Kaminari reaches out to poke one, halfway wonderous, halfway sure he's dreaming, and Bakugou jerks away like a testy cat, eyes firmly locked on the walkie trapped within his sweaty hand.
Midoriya starts to sputter, his breaths choked and giggly as he tries and fails to rein in his humor.
Bakugou throws a spoon at him.
"Ugh, you're so boring," the girl on the radio jeers. "He's-"
"Hey, is that Bakugou?" a boy's friendly voice interjects from the background.
"Shitty Hair, what the fuck did I say about code names?"
"Oh," the boy says, voice growing louder, "uh, I mean…Hey, is that God Murder Dynamight I'm hearing?"
"I'll kill you," Bakugou says flatly.
"Aw, c'mon man. So what if someone catches our name? There's not that many-" he starts to say, before cutting off abruptly.
There's not that many people left, Kaminari finishes in his mind.
When the boy starts over, it's with only a trace of sadness left in his voice. "Even if anyone caught on," he says, "the whole point of our place is to help people, you know?"
"It's a liability and you know that. We don't share locations until those people are vetted," Bakugou says seriously, all embarassment and teasing gone from him, all at once, like a wave crashing into hard, flat cliffside.
"I know," the boy replies, just as seriously but still with that same undercurrent of softness, of ease, that always slips through Kaminari's desperate hands like water.
Bakugou hums, tonguing at his teeth for a moment. His gaze slants seriously towards Kaminari, who stiffens under it.
"I found someone," Bakugou tells them simply.
Midoriya's not laughing anymore. In fact, Kaminari's not sure if he's even blinking.
"He's vetted," Bakugou continues quickly, not giving the people on the other end of the radio a chance to react. "He's here, actually, so I'm gonna need a food restock earlier than planned. I've got the shit to trade for it, too, no fucking freebies."
"He's here?" the boy repeats. "Like, no-"
"Hello!" the girl interjects loudly.
Bakugou presses down on the speaker button and raises an eyebrow toward Kaminari. Not requiring, but offering. Kaminari has to lean over Bakugou's arm to answer, the warmth of his body just familiar enough to be comforting. Just alien enough to keep Kaminari's senses sharp.
"Uh, hey! I'm Kaminari. Or, um," he says, doing a quick mental count, "Eagle F-"
Bakugou snatches the reciever back. "Enough with thid Eagle shit. You've met. Now-"
"Wait, wait, wait, Blasty!" the girl interjects.
"Usual time," Bakugou says. "Today." Then he flicks the walkie to a different channel with an air of finality.
Static noise fizzles through the speaker.
"Kacchan," Midoriya starts.
"Shaddup," he replies, dragging one palm down his face.
Midoriya huffs out a soft laugh. "I've got your number, Dynamight," he murmurs.
"You'll get my fist in your face, Small Might."
Midoriya's mouth drops open with offense. "At least mine's short."
"Short and lame."
"You're short and lame!"
Kaminari doesn't realize he's started laughing until they both turn to look at him, and by then he has to wipe the tears pooling in his eyes.
"Sorry," he says, his laughter gone trembly and sad. "Sorry, it's just-"
Bakugou ruffles through Kaminari's hair aggressively, expression caught between concerned and wary.
"Stop," he commands.
"Bossy," Kaminari huffs out wetly, eyes aimed at his feet.
Bakugou lightly tugs at his bangs. He's making a weird face. More awkward, less wary.
"I just- Fuck. Cry if you fucking want to," he says. "'S fine. Deku does all the time and he's.." Bakugou shrugs vaguely, gaze landing on the ceiling, "whatever."
"I'm…what?" Midoriya asks, confused.
"You're not great at this part," Kaminari murmurs, one hand firm over his own chest while he calms his breathing, blinks away the tears keeping Bakugou's stiff expression from view.
"Well you're not fucking crying anymore, are you?" Bakugou challenges. "So I think I won."
"You won?" Kaminari echoes, amusement poking at the edges of the word.
"Yeah, won what, Kacchan?" Midoriya pipes up, this time with an edge of teasing in his own voice.
"You know what," Bakugou says, rising suddenly from his chair. "Fuck you both. I fucking provide for this house and this is how I'm treated? Jackassess. Last time I do any fucking bedside manner bullshit."
Midorya smiles at him fondly, one hand reaching out to squeeze Bakugou's arm as he stomps toward the stairs.
"We love you," Midoriya calls out cheekily.
Bakugou jerks his arm away.
Still smiling, Midoriya meets Kaminari's gaze and rolls his eyes.
It's just a moment- there and then not- but it burrows itself into Kaminari's skin like a scab to pick at compulsively; a whispered, You could have this, sitting in his ears every time he touches the memory.
You could have this.
You could have this.
You could have this.
It's not Shinso and their treehouse, or any of the places that came after. They're not Shinso.
But they're here and they're warm and they seem to like him, too.
He doesn't start to cry again, but it's a near thing.
—
They gear up to leave by mid-day, him and Bakugou. They load up on water and weapons and medicine, something stuffed into Bakugou's bag to trade with that Kaminari has yet to catch a glimpse of.
Midoriya stays behind.
Kaminari takes a deep breath on the threshold of their base, the toes of his shoes hanging over the lip of the porch steps, and releases it shakily. Silently.
He steps into the dirt.
And when he gathers himself, both of his companions are looking at him. Kaminari shoots them a bright smile.
"So, are we all ready to go, Mr. Murder?"
Bakugou scoffs but his bright eyes are sharp and already scanning the street ahead of them with practiced surety, his mouth set into a firm line.
"We're ready," he says.
Midoriya doesn't say Get back safe, standing there in the shadow of the front door, gnawing on his bottom lip. But Bakugou reaches out and pinches the skin below his lip, tugging it free a little too harshly, and Kaminari thinks a similar message is communicated between them anyway. Something like:
"Get back safe."
"You know I will, you damned nerd."
Kaminari only looks back once and by then the front door is shut tight. He can't find Midoriya in any of the windows.
"Eyes up," Bakugou murmurs.
They walk shoulder to shoulder and they don't talk.
Kaminari keeps thinking he hears a scream on the breeze. One long, drawn-out, neverending scream.
And always, it's just the breeze.