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They’re crouching down in front of a dilapidated shack, half-hidden by industrial-grade beams when it occurs to Kirishima that this is kind of a bad idea.
“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Bakugou snarls, gripping the flashlight so hard his scars pop out bone-white against the pale of his skin. His eyebrows are set in a heavy scowl.
Kirishima lets out a nervous laugh, and yeah, he admits, it was stupid of them to sneak out at three in the morning just to look for his night-vision goggles. That, and performing a dumb ritual to an ocean god to please stop his parents from moving him halfway across the globe.
But in Kirishima’s defence, those goggles had been expensive. As in, three Montblanc pens expensive. Which means they’d been worth a lot. And here, another thing: see, Kirishima likes life in this place. He’s holding down a good job. He’s going to a good school. Admittedly, he’s not getting good grades, but he’s got Bakugou for that. His best friend, and the only kid on the block who owns a Harley Davidson.
Yeah, it isn’t always sunshine and rainbows around these parts. There’s bound to be some rainy days. But so what, Kirishima could be talking about any damn place in the world. Nothing’s perfect. And nothing in the world can convince him that moving to a new home far, far away won’t make him miserable.
“It’ll be a fresh new start,” his parents said. “It’ll be good for the soul,” they said.
Cool, but I disagree. Full stop, Kirishima thought bitterly then.
And this still sucks a huge dick, he thinks now.
So the solution to his problems was to dump a bag of Sour Patch kids - a sacrificial offering - into the ocean, and pray, “Dear Holy God of the Mighty Sea, please change my parents’ minds, if you make my dream come true, I promise I won’t ever cheat at Tekken again, I’ll spend the rest of the summer studying math, and I’ll rat out Kaminari if he reads another Playboy magazine in class.”
An hour later, and Kirishima deeply regrets his blasphemy. Because they’re probably going to die.
Atop the shack, a weathervane spins and screeches. Tides crash onto the beach a distance away, louder than a lightning strike. The sky is the colour of ebony glowing an alien shade of green, and somewhere there’s a high-pitched howl, like the world’s coming undone, like an ancient sea monster is stirring into life.
A monster with mismatched eyes. Hair the colour of fire and snow. A jawline crafted by a Renaissance sculptor’s hand. A face that could launch a thousand ships -
“Oh my God,” Kirishima says at the exact same time Bakugou hisses out, “What the fuck?”
Because what the fuck, indeed.
There’s a boy in the water. The murky green water of the abandoned pool no one’s used since Judas betrayed Jesus; Kirishima’s pretty sure it’s been that long. The tiles look ancient.
The boy is peering at them from where he’s got his arms folded at the edge, and he doesn’t look too happy. But he doesn’t look murderous, either. So that’s good news. If Kirishima only focused on the face, he’d assume that he was looking at another teenage boy dumb enough to go on an early morning escapade. He’d assume that there was nothing out of the ordinary: just a product of a truth-or-dare game, a bet, or whatever.
Even so, Kirishima would’ve never been able to overlook this: the strange, otherworldly glow that clings to him like a second skin. It’s the kind of glow that makes one think of sleeping mountains, of the pauses between claps of thunder. Of machinery long since thought to be dead but still thrumming with power.
It’s the kind that gets fine-tuned by time. Which doesn’t make sense at first, because the boy looks to be their age, but whatever impression the boy is leaving, it’s totally incongruous with human ability. Simply put, no hot topless teenage boy is ever going to be capable of making Kirishima see and feel the cosmos with a single glance, like he’s gone into the fucking Avatar State or something.
Angry sea god, Kirishima thinks. Gorgeous, angry sea god looking forward to ripping out my throat.
And then, Kirishima’s eyes land on a flash of silver fin slicing through the water. They track the movement, until it settles, stills.
Besides him, Bakugou freezes. The flashlight winks out in a burst of shattering glass. “A fucking mermaid?” he yells.
Overhead, the clouds rumble as they roll over the full moon. The scant moonlight pouring down lines the boy-slash mermaid-slash-god’s face in white-gold. The ocean is alive tonight, and Kirishima is afraid to know the reason why.
Until the boy opens his mouth. And speaks: “Next time you make a wish, don’t throw those disgusting rubber candy treats into my territory, or I’ll drown you.”
The illusion breaks, and Bakugou and Kirishima share a glance.
Prior to this night, there were three things Kirishima never expected he’d be doing in his life.
Number one was agreeing to his mom’s stupid keto diet regime for a whole month. It had been the worst meal plan she’d ever concocted; no sugar, no grains, no Coca-Cola. Kirishima had felt like going crazy; refraining from eating normal food, like delicious carb-filled pizza and pancakes, will do more than just a number to a person.
Second was being found complicit in a scheme involving a pound of confetti, matchsticks, three bottles of hydrogen peroxide, and a Bunsen burner - and then being acquitted of all charges by the principal. Looking back on it, middle school was such a weird time.
And the third was getting accepted into U.A Academy, this high school where everyone is supposed to be super smart, but then you figure out along the way that half of the kids are just deceptively clever. Like, for example, there’s Kaminari, who isn’t smart smart. He’s just kind of an expert at being okay enough to stay. Kirishima knows for a fact he’s never written an honest essay in his life; when you have SparkNotes, the thesaurus, and adderall, you’re practically all set for crunch-time days.
But now, there’s a fourth thing, and it’s the weirdest of the bunch: sneaking a merman into his house, letting him borrow his clothes, hearing his tragic royal engagement story, and then deciding if his terms and conditions were worth the effort. This sequence of events, Kirishima had never once dreamed of doing.
“How terrible, dude,” Kirishima says once the merman - no, sorry, Merprince Todoroki - finishes explaining the tale of his arranged marriage. And asshole father. And the strange mermaid politics that somehow have even more drama than an entire season of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.
“How incredibly stupid,” Bakugou scoffs, and Kirishima blanches when Todoroki shoots him a serrated look.
Kirishima whispers miserably, “Hey, man, don’t provoke him, what if he like turns us into frogs or something? I’ll never ever get a date if that happens,” and Bakugou just rolls his eyes. Great.
“Look, I’m not asking for much,” Todoroki says, lounging on the couch with his recently acquired legs. Kirishima doesn’t exactly know how it happened; magic, obviously. All Kirishima knows is that as he long as he doesn’t get them wet, he’s all set. “I just want a way out of this stupid marriage, and you clearly want to stay. And no, I’m not asking you to slay a hydra; I doubt you’d even a last second.”
Incensed, Bakugou growls, “Are you calling us weak?” and Kirishima quickly cuts in with, “So what would you have us do? Murder your dad? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we can’t exactly breathe underwater. And sure, I had karate lessons when I was younger, but I’m pretty sure I’d be useless in an underwater fight. Because physics and all. Unless you gift us with super strength or something. That could work.”
Todoroki’s eyes shift. Up close, they’re kaleidoscopic. Made up of a dozen hundred colours that change with the pale dawn light that’s now seeping into the room. Blue, grey, silver, navy - the shades of an ocean. For a moment, there’s nothing but white noise - seagulls cawing outside - and then Todoroki is saying, “So this is what we’ve established: when you help a mermaid - or merprince, in this case - you get a wish. Any wish at all. But of course, it has limits. I have to draw the line somewhere.”
“Ah, so world domination is not on the cards, then?” Kirishima says, and when Todoroki raises an eyebrow, he quickly adds, “Never mind.”
“Now, my offer,” Todoroki continues as if he hadn’t heard anything, Thank God. “I’ve made it perfectly clear that I don’t want anything to do with my current situation. The only reason I’m being forced to go through with this is because my father believes it’ll further strengthen the alliance between his kingdom and the other sea realm. In short, he’s using me as a pawn and a lever, and if I don’t do as he says, he’ll have my head on a spike.”
“Sorry to interrupt again, but where do we come in?” Kirishima says, pointing at himself, and then Bakugou. “I mean, I understand we’re playing a role in all of this, but … what?”
“He gave me a challenge that he was so sure I’d fail at. You see, he doesn’t think that love exists.” Todoroki’s jaw clenches. “But if I can prove to him that it does before the next full moon, I get released from this obligation. But if not, then it’s to my wedding I’ll go. So.” He folds his arms across his chest. “That’s what you have to help me out with. I’ve seen it, and I want it.”
Kirishima drops the soda can he’d been holding. And Bakugou chokes on Kirishima’s day-old microwaved garlic breadsticks.
Kirishima had been so sure that it was going to be a reconnaissance mission, spy-flick style.
But larceny had also been up there, along with kidnapping and false-murder-made-to-look-like-the-real-deal.
Honestly, he never thought it would be about love, out of all possible things. Which was probably dumb of him; when marriage was in the equation, of course love had to fit in somewhere. Obviously.
“Can’t you just show your dad the Titanic or something? Maybe even The Notebook?” Kirishima suggests, as he and Bakugou follow Todoroki to the already bustling beach - that’s the ten a.m rush for you. “I know electricity doesn’t work underwater, but just tell him to come up to the shore for just a second, and then you’ll be a free man before you know it. You have to be truly heartless if you don’t tear up a little bit at the part where Jack dies of hypothermia. I’d cry if I were Rose, too; I can’t imagine how cold it must be. How bad is the ocean at like the North Pole, by the way?”
“Kirishima, what the fuck,” Bakugou says, just as Todoroki says, “Not as bad as you make it out to be.”
Once their feet hit the sand, Todoroki leads them to the area where there’s the highest density of people, either splashing in the water or basking in the sunlight. He leads them past the stalls offering food and beverages - two things Kirishima desperately needs - and stops when they find a group of people on surfboards easing into the waves.
“Oh, look, it’s Ashido. And Sero. And Uraraka,” Kirishima says, before eyeing the burger shack some metres away and debating on whether or not he should make a run for it.
“I thought we were supposed to be listening to this guy,” Bakugou says sulkily, noticing Kirishima’s longing looks, and Kirishima blinks awake. Right.
“So. Love. I don’t pretend I know everything about it, but I’m a decent shot,” he says awkwardly, watching Todoroki blankly stare off into the distance. “Uh, wanna talk about the specifics now? I mean, you must’ve brought us here for a reason. To clear the mind, I suppose. Exfoliate the senses. Well, I gotta hand it to you, it’s working. But I bet it’d work even better if you let me grab some food. And then we could, you know, talk business. Discuss.”
Todoroki doesn’t respond. Bakugou groans.
“No? Okay, then,” Kirishima sighs.
None of them speak for a minute. And then: “That one,” Todoroki says suddenly, pointing at the ocean, at the group riding the water. “That boy over there. I want him.”
Kirishima squints. “There are like twenty different guys, my friend, you gotta be more specific than that,” he laughs, and he expects Bakugou to roll his eyes again, but instead Bakugou follows the line of Todoroki’s sight, and goes completely still.
You know how there’s this moment in practically every action movie ever where there’s a super tense silence before a battle breaks out? That’s what’s happening right now - except it’s a lot more palpable - and realization clicks into place when Kirishima realizes just exactly who Todoroki is talking about.
Curly hair, and green eyes. Freckles, and washboard abs. Scarred hands, cute face.
The one person doing an aerial.
“Oh,” is all Kirishima can say before Bakugou sputters out an incredulous noise of disgust.
Bakugou and Midoriya grew up together. Most people know that. Bakugou has it out for Midoriya. Now this, everyone is aware of.
They have a complicated relationship, is the observation many make at first glance. Because it’s true. Like, they’re sort of enemies, yet not at the same time. They’re also sort of competing against each other, but same thing: that’s not exactly it, either.
Like Kirishima said, it’s complicated.
So Todoroki enlisting their help on getting him and Midoriya together is the worst request Todoroki could’ve made. Sneaking into the FBI headquarters, Bakugou could be persuaded to do. But attempting to meddle with Midoriya’s love life? Bakugou would be more okay with Todoroki asking to light his autographed Kill Bill poster on fire - and he treasures it like it’s his first-born child.
“No fucking way, I’m done,” Bakugou says, removing Kirishima’s hand from his shoulder. “Goodbye. Find someone else to buddy up with. Or do it yourself.”
“C’mon, man, it has to be you, because there’s no one else I’m okay with turning to,” Kirishima says in that kind of whiny voice that usually gets Bakugou to agree on good days. On bad days, the odds decrease to around eighty percent, but still. Eighty beats zero. “We’re best friends. And best friends stick together. It’s part of the bro code.”
Bakugou huffs, “What part of no don’t you understand? Because anything with Deku? Count me out,” and Kirishima wants to curl up into a ball.
In the end, Bakugou ends up agreeing. Perhaps it’s because he realizes that if Kirishima packs up and leaves, he won’t have anyone to feast on tacos with every Friday. No one to really talk to when school begins. No one to go on midnight dollar-store runs with. It’ll be the end of their world as they know it.
They find an impatient Todoroki waiting for them by the pier. Bakugou is glaring daggers at him, at the universe, but Kirishima feels that his mood is too sour for a telling-off this early in the planning stage.
“Well? Have anything in mind?” Todoroki says, and Kirishima wraps his fingers around Bakugou’s twitching fist.
“Uh, yeah, we were totally talking about that,” Kirishima says, letting out a nervous chuckle as Bakugou tries to tug free his hand like a dog straining against a muzzle. “One hundred percent. Absolutely.”
“Bullshit,” he hears Bakugou say, which is true, but Kirishima is not about to say that. Todoroki can assure them all he likes, but Kirishima’s absolutely sure he’s more than willing to turn them into insects.
Todoroki continues staring at them. The white of his hair is radiant in the sunlight. His eyes look deeper than a void - all-knowing and all-seeing. But then he frowns, and that effectively jerks Kirishima out of his daze. This is no time to be hypnotized by a merman’s spell.
“Alright, where to begin,” Kirishima says, and Bakugou snaps, “You know what? Just talk to Deku already! We don’t have all day for this crap. Enough with the bullshit, and get to the fucking right away.”
Todoroki pushes off from where he’s leaning against the wooden guardrails. For one horrifying moment, Kirishima thinks that Bakugou’s finally done it, finally provoked him into performing transformational magic, but all Todoroki says is, “Talk … to … him? Good idea,” before spinning on his heel to leave.
Kirishima gapes after him. The sand is blisteringly hot beneath his feet. His shirt feels stickier than glue. Bakugou is wearing a stupefied expression, and the ground seems like it is crumbling away into nothingness, and a sinking feeling tells Kirishima this isn’t going to end well.
When Kirishima was little, he had a crush on a guy named Itsuki. That was all the way back in middle school, where everyone was awkward and loose-limbed and overall kind of not very attractive.
Now, Kirishima likes to think that he’s a man of conviction. Someone who gets things done with all his power. It’s a good mindset to have for most things, but certainly not for telling your crush that you’re into them, and to this day Kirishima refuses to visit this particular memory.
It’s painful. It’s embarrassing.
But if he thought what he’d been through was embarrassing, it’s nothing compared to what he felt when he heard about what Todoroki had said. To Midoriya’s face. In front of a live audience.
Kirishima wants to die from secondhand embarrassment.
“He what?” Bakugou lets out a roar of laughter that shakes the walls, the windows, and makes Kirishima’s heart skip a very funny beat.
“He did,” Kirishima says mournfully, burying his face into his hands.
“Of course you got fucking rejected. That’s not the kind of thing you say to a person upon your first meeting,” Bakugou guffaws, shaking his head at a mopey Todoroki, who looks so crestfallen Kirishima feels for him.
Because “I’m in love with you” and “Do you love me?”? Not something you should say to a guy you’ve never talked to before.
The first week is rough.
They’re just not prepared for it: Midoriya never being at the right place at the right time; Todoroki having the worst conversational skills; Bakugou’s presence darkening the atmosphere everywhere he goes; and no one listening to Kirishima’s frankly very sensible advice.
It’s full of blunders, mishaps. Events that should strictly belong to a B-grade comedy film, not real life, where once the damage is done, it’ll linger on forever. And ever. And ever.
This isn’t even about the wish anymore. It’s got more to do with Kirishima’s frustration, Bakugou’s sanity, and Todoroki’s awkwardness.
Kirishima’s never been one for fate. But if he believed in it, it would be because a magical being told him that if he didn’t take the One Ring to Mount Doom, the world would end, not because some merman prince needed his help on how to get a boyfriend.
Unfortunately, life doesn’t ever go the way you hope. Actually, it does, but everyone tends to focus more on what they’re not getting than what they do have. People have always felt absence more acutely than presence.
The second week, at least Todoroki is getting the hang of it.
“You’ve got to play it cool,” Kirishima encourages him as they’re navigating through the annual beachside fairgrounds, watching Midoriya gawk at an impressive display of acrobatic feats. “And that means no more speaking what’s on your mind. That’s not going to do you any good.”
For Todoroki’s sake, Kirishima wants to avoid another repeat of the Ice Cream Truck Disaster.
Well, Midoriya had found it funny, but Kirishima would rather play it safe; his whole future is on the line. Success means he gets to stay, gets to be around his friends, especially Bakugou. Failure means moping around for the next two years until he flies back here for university, which he definitely will, financial issues and parents’ wishes be damned.
The day ends with Midoriya speaking to Kirishima just as the crowds are starting to disperse for the night.
“You know, Todoroki-kun is pretty nice to be around with,” Midoriya says, bless his soul. “I didn’t really expect it. And he’s kind of hilarious when he wants to be.”
Witchcraft, Kirishima thinks. It has to be witchcraft. “Yeah, agreed, he’s truly one of a kind,” Kirishima says eagerly, nodding. “In fact, he wants to hang out with you again, uh - tomorrow! Yeah, tomorrow. Same place, same time.”
Midoriya smiles the smile that makes his eyes light up, and that, Kirishima realizes, is the reason why Todoroki’s got it so, so bad. “Oh, cool.”
“Cool,” Kirishima echoes, grinning back.
The third week, Kirishima and Bakugou still do their nightly check-ups on that abandoned water tower where they’ve got Todoroki stashed, but it’s no longer necessary to tail Todoroki every second of the day; it looks like he’s got his whole problem under control.
Midoriya’s into Todoroki. Todoroki’s into Midoriya. It all works out on its own.
But the falling in love part?
“I think we’re still kind of doomed, dude,” Kirishima says to Bakugou as they’re sprawled out on the rooftops of Bakugou’s house, watching the night sky unfold like a flower in bloom. The stars look like a dusting of sugar. The moon looks like a smile of molten-mercury.
“Because there’s no way true love can happen in only thirty days?” Bakugou turns his head so that he’s looking Kirishima directly in the face. His eyes seem alight with stardust. Kirishima’s breathing slows, then stills. “No shit. I’ll eat my own shoe if we actually pull this one off.”
There’s gunpowder in Kirishima’s blood. Explosives in his chest. His heart swells until it’s fit to burst, and he thinks he knows the reason why. But still he looks away. Away to the sky.
“In case I go, promise me we’ll always stay in touch,” Kirishima says, cheeks warm, tracing out a constellation in the air with a finger. “Distance doesn’t have to keep us apart. We can still have like eating competitions on Skype. It’s not the end of everything.”
Bakugou snorts. “You’d just end up cheating.”
“Says the sore loser,” Kirishima shoots back, lips twitching.
Bakugou flicks him on the forehead. “Dumbass.”
A balmy summertime breeze sweeps over them, bringing with it the scent of the ocean. Brine, and sand, and heat. Cicadas are trilling, and the earth is revolving. Kirishima is right where he needs to be, and that’s all that matters.
“Don’t you know it,” he murmurs, full of the stars in Bakugou’s eyes.
They bump fists, and Kirishima feels like spun-gold.
There’s a dance the afternoon before the next full moon, and it’s their last shot.
The funny thing is, Kirishima doesn’t feel like it matters anymore. They had fun, these past few weeks. Todoroki was entertaining when he tried adjusting to the human world; Bakugou’s snark was actually pretty funny; watching Todoroki blunder through his interactions with Midoriya was equal parts lamentable and hilarious; and overall Kirishima just had a great time.
So what if the falling in love thing isn’t going to happen? So what if Kirishima has to move by the end of the summer?
Yes, it still sucks. Yes, it still hurts.
But he’s come to a very profound realization that maybe the journey is really what counts, and not the destination. Like, Kirishima’s learned a lot about Todoroki. They had a bonding experience. And he’s going to miss Todoroki once he goes home.
Kirishima does not want Todoroki to get forced into a marriage he does not consent to. But maybe Todoroki will find another way. If he doesn’t, well, Kirishima has ideas. Bakugou, too - though if you ask Kirishima, he’s a last-resort kind of deal.
“They look good together, huh?” Kirishima says, sipping at his virgin piña colada as he watches Midoriya attempting to teach Todoroki how to dance.
“More like disgusting,” Bakugou says, and oh, of course. He examines his plate of skewered meat blankly.
Kirishima sets aside his glass. “Your shirt’s unbuttoned. Seriously?” His fingers reach out to amend it, but Bakugou grabs his hand. And his palm feels calloused. His palm feels warm.
Kirishima listens closely enough that he can hear his own heartbeat. He looks closely enough that he can see the gold in Bakugou’s eyes.
Bakugou guides his hand away. “I left it that way on purpose.”
“Then let me at least fix your collar,” Kirishima says, and he gets to work, and with crushing disappointment he realizes it’ll be a long, long time before he’ll be able to do this again.
Kirishima does not do glass-half-empty principles. But there’s no point in beguiling himself.
The party starts clearing out two hours later, and Todoroki finds Kirishima out by the docks, watching the very late sunset turn the water a deep rose-orange.
“Thought you’d be here,” Todoroki says, joining him where he sits.
“So, how’d it go?” Kirishima says. His and Todoroki’s reflections distort in the rippling waters.
“Well, I asked him if he was in love with anyone, and he said no.” Todoroki’s voice is steady when he says this.
Kirishima and Todoroki share a look. And then, they both break out into laughter. It’s funny, thinking about how this strange friendship all started. Boys sneak out, find a merman, then strike up a bargain. Sentences Kirishima never thought would belong on the same page of his life story.
It’s just so strange, so surreal, that this is happening. Once their laughter gets swallowed by a cresting wave, Kirishima says, “Hey, uh, sorry that we couldn’t help you prove the whole love thing. That we failed, and now you’re going to have to return to your dad, and that -”
“Who says that you failed?” Todoroki interrupts, quietly, and it confounds Kirishima.
“Wait, what do you - what do you mean?” he asks, and that’s when he sees it.
Bakugou accidentally slipping into the ocean.
To an outsider, it would seem like no big deal. People fall into oceans or pools all the time. But see, what they don’t know is that Bakugou’s deathly afraid of falling into an ocean. When he’s there, he freezes up. He can’t swim. He can’t move.
He’ll drown, the thought strikes Kirishima with frightening clarity, and he doesn’t realize that stormclouds have started to gather, that the ocean’s started to roar, even as he’s cutting through the choppy waves without a moment to spare.
Already the tides are pulling Bakugou away, away, away. To somewhere Kirishima can’t reach.
Kirishima swims harder. But Todoroki’s halfway there.
Todoroki is halfway there, but the ocean’s pull is getting stronger and stronger. Like a magnet attracting iron. It’s the Merking, Kirishima’s sure of it; he wants Todoroki to fail. He wants Todoroki to come back to the kingdom.
They’re approaching a buoy. A buoy located so far out into the ocean. Todoroki is getting swept away faster than he can grab Bakugou, but his hand manages to catch on the float, and he’s holding on with all his might.
“Leave, you idiot!” Bakugou’s voice carries above the waves, high with panic, choked with fear, but Kirishima will never leave him, not once in a million years.
When his head disappears beneath the surface, Kirishima follows.
And it’s unsettling how calm, how quiet, the underwater world is. Untouched by the storm. Here, the eerie blue of the waters doesn’t seem as frightening, and Kirishima just barely manages to pull Bakugou’s body into his arms when the ocean miraculously settles, quietens.
There’s a ripple of warm air. A villain’s spell, finally lifted.
Their heads break the surface. Todoroki watches them with soft eyes.
“You did it, Kirishima,” he croaks out, and there’s saltwater in Kirishima’s throat, nose, ears, and he honest-to-god feels like crying. “You proved to him that love exists.”
Bakugou is only half-conscious, but, more importantly, alive. Alive. Kirishima’s best friend is alive, and he loves him so goddamn much that it resonates in every fibre of his being.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, man,” Kirishima sobs into Bakugou’s shoulder, and the tears don’t stop pouring even as they near the shore, Todoroki effortlessly moving through the water and keeping them afloat with a burst of calming magic.
Before they reach the shore, though, they halt; there’s a figure that’s rapidly approaching them on a surfboard. Someone shirtless, and broad-shouldered, and waving an arm.
“Midoriya?” Kirishima sputters out incredulously just as Bakugou slurs out, “Deku?”
A hand lands on Kirishima’s shoulder. The dying light gilds the planes of Todoroki’s face. “Remember, you still get your wish, Kirishima,” he says, and there’s a shadow of an indent on his cheek.
Before this moment, Kirishima would’ve immediately jumped at the opportunity. But now ...
“I think I want to save it for a rainy day,” Kirishima says, and he flashes a smile that Todoroki returns. “It’s probably for the best.”
“I’ll miss you,” Todoroki whispers, and Kirishima whispers back, “I’ll miss you, too,” and Todoroki says, “I’ll see you guys later,” and Kirishima nods firmly.
A flick of Todoroki’s hand has Kirishima and Bakugou drifting safely into the shore. Once there, Bakugou scrambles into the safety of the sand, starts coughing, coughing, coughing.
“Easy there,” Kirishima says, thumping down on the area between his shoulder blades.
“What - happened - to - making - a - wish - Kirishima?” Bakugou heaves out, getting to his feet. He sways where he stands. Kirishima slips an arm around his shoulders to steady him.
A backwards glance reveals Todoroki pulling Midoriya’s face towards him for a kiss. The sky paints them both in shades of dark orange-gold. All that’s missing is the dramatic music.
“We should store it for something important,” Kirishima chuckles softly as they both trudge back to his place, the sand squelching beneath their wet shoes. “Like saving you.”
“I’m not going to almost die again,” Bakugou says, his breath hot on Kirishima’s cheek, on Kirishima’s neck, his eyes the colour of a sunset. “So might as well put it to use.”
Kirishima’s heart jackrabbits beneath his ribcage. He feels like he’s back at sea again, like its tides are pulling him into its womb. “I think I have everything that I need right here,” he says, a languid smile blossoming on his lips. “What about you?”
Bakugou’s lashes glint with seawater. They cast spidery shadows across the cut of his cheekbones. His lips are slightly parted, pink and plump and firm, and Kirishima wants to kiss him so badly. “I think I’m good, too,” Bakugou says, and when their mouths meet, Kirishima feels warm all over, warmer than the lingering colours of the sunset.
When they pull away, Kirishima jokes, "You gotta eat your shoe now, dude. Your time has come," and Bakugou scowls at him.
Kirishima will always come back to him. And he’s sure that Bakugou will always welcome him back home.