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As he gazes at the fallen citadel, a threshold engulfed in flames — bathed in bright scarlets and ambers, he feels his chest tighten uncomfortably. Kirishima watches the smoke rise to the sky, dirt and grime sticking to his blood-stained skin as it taints it with ash, his heart was throbbing too quickly, hands shivering incessantly. Kirishima takes a breath, keeping his composure as he raises his flare towards heavens, firing once as emerald signals of their victory.
The enemy realized that they were fighting a losing battle, too many of their men had died, too many had suffered, and, in retaliation, they decided to end everything — by taking their own lives.
He had been a witness to a man’s death, hearing his last prayers when he held a gun to his head. Kirishima tried to stop it, helplessly begging the man to just surrender than to kill himself, that he could still meet his family, it was futile.
He always believed that everything they did was for the better good, that it was justified. He starts to think otherwise when he finally stepped inside the battlefield. It’s nothing but bloodshed, a graveyard to individuals who sacrifice their lives, leaving their families — their parents, their siblings, their beloved. Kirishima fell for the idea of valour in warfare, that if he fought, he’d become a hero, that he could finally prove to himself that he wasn’t a coward, that he could be more that what he is now.
Oh, how wrong he is.
He’s a murderer, not a hero.
—
Kirishima’s used to expressive faces, like the one’s Ashido sports when she sees Sero, all gooey and everything in between or the ones Todoroki has when Midoriya greets him with a smile, red faced and nervous. He’s used to heartfelt promises and loud exchanges, and he finds solace in it.
When Aizawa introduces him to Katsuki, he is enraptured by beautiful platinum hair and crimson eyes, and, not that he’d ever admit it, his heart might have skipped a beat when he heard the boy’s voice. He gets pulled out of his reverie when Aizawa calls him to attention, bringing a flush of red to his cheeks.
“Kirishima, this boy is the tool for our victory,” He says, weary, seeming a lot more tired that he used to be, “The one who became one of the reasons why we won the battle,”
He cants his head to the side, brows scrunched up in confusion, unnerved by how Aizawa treats the boy, “He doesn’t look older than fifteen, Colonel. This boy is too young to even be in the army, let alone in the frontlines.”
Aizawa shakes his head, a sigh escaping his lips, “Don’t be fooled by appearances, this boy possesses great battle sense and combat prowess, his ability in the battlefield is exemplary however, his lack of compassion sets him away from the others.”
He takes in a breath, “What do you want me to do then, Colonel?”
“I want to place him under your care.” Aizawa responds, glancing back the boy who seems disinterested in the conversation, “You’re one of my trusted subordinates, one that is empathetic and kind, unlike the other soldiers here who have grown to change under the environment they’re in.”
“I don’t think I follow.”
“This child, I want him to learn to be more than a weapon for war.” Aizawa closes his eyes, “I feel responsible to what he’s become but I cannot change it, but I believe you can.”
—
“Good to see you, Kirishima, how’s your new toy treating you?” A familiar voice calls out to him, joyful and, though he’d never admit it to Kaminari’s face, rather annoying at the moment. “I heard that Aizawa just gave you a fucking super weapon as a body guard, like you just got promoted, I’m so jealous.”
Kirishima sighs but offers a smile nonetheless, “First of all, Katsuki’s not a toy nor is he a super weapon, he’s a person, living, breathing and ultimately human. Second, it’s because he thinks I can be of great influence on the guy since, from Colonel Aizawa’s words, I’m the most empathetic kids he’s known and that since the war’s over, it’s better for Katsuki’s to learn not to be so uptight all the time. Third, you’re one of my favourites alongside Mina and Sero but please, Denki, get off my case.”
Kaminari laughs at that, bringing the redhead close to him, arms placed in a playful hold, “Don’t take it too seriously, buddy,” He chides, laughter dying down as he watches how a familiar ash blonde strides to their direction, dagger in hand as he regards Kaminari with a cold glare, “Please let go of Lieutenant Kirishima or I’ll make you,”
“Here’s the infamous Katsuki I believe,” Amber eyes watches how scarlet meets his, a slight glower on the boy’s expression that makes him glare back, “You didn’t even greet a superior officer properly, it’s a wonder why Aizawa would give you to someone like Kirishima,”
“Hey- “
“I believe I don’t need to repeat myself, Sir.” Katsuki lowers his stance, the blade in his hand glinting as scarlet carefully watches the pair, “I’ll remove any threat to the Lieutenant, even if they are his acquaintances.” He says lowly, and Kirishima holds up his hand immediately to intervene, pulling away from Kaminari, his eyes darting back and forth between the two blondes, “Katsuki, he’s just playing around, no need to get aggressive. Kaminari, don’t aggravate him.”
Katsuki drops his stance, saluting politely, “Yes, Sir.”
Kaminari blinks dumbly at the sight, laughing at the incredulous Kirishima gives him as Katsuki keeps a straight face after the whole ordeal, “This guy’s a riot.” He brushes his clothes off as he bids the taller male goodbye, “See you when I see you then, Kiri.” He says with a smile, a sudden change in expression when he regards Katsuki, “Hope that you won’t kill anyone and have Kirishima decommissioned, see you Katsuki.”
“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” Katsuki asks, carefully watching how Kirishima gives a long, exasperated sigh. “Did I do something I shouldn’t?”
“Yes, you have.” He says simply, pinching the bridge of his nose, his migraine starting up. “But you just got apprehensive since it’s like, second nature to you, don’t worry.”
“Will I be punished?”
Kirishima’s attention is snapped back to the younger male, watching the despondent look of the blonde, “N-no! Why would you say that?”
“Tools of war that cannot follow the order of their masters are deemed useless, thus requires punishment.” Katsuki says simply.
That throws Kirishima off-kilter, so decides to thread slowly, “You’re a person, Katsuki. Not a tool.”
“They would argue with you on that fact.”
“Let’s talk about this later, okay?” Kirishima said tiredly, sporting a grin as he pets Katsuki’s hair, “I’ll just have to prove it to you that you’re not what you think you are.
—
He starts to learn about the small things about Katsuki, on how he never learned how to read or write. Kirishima takes it upon himself to teach the boy, letter per letter, word per word. Katsuki, he learns, is exceptionally smart, and within a single month, he’s already capable. A blush creeps up his cheeks when he’s reminded of the first thing Katsuki said to him when he finally understands words he didn’t understand before and that is, “Lieutenant, you’re eyes are very beautiful. I’ve always thought of it but never had the proper words for it, thank you for teaching me.”
Kirishima found himself doting on the boy, and feels like an overprotective parent, so when he sees the look of confusion on Bakugou’s face when he has first tasted the spicy stew served by the inn, he gets worried. “Katsuki, is there something wrong? Do you not like the taste? Was it too spicy?” He starts, “Do you want to change the meal? Is it bad? Are you- “
“N-no.” Katsuki muster out from the barrage of questions Kirishima is throwing at him, “I don’t understand why but I feel light from the meal, does is mean something bad, Lieutenant?”
“O-oh.” He stops, then the cogs turn again, “Oh. So, I guess you liked the dish then,”
“I like the dish?”
“It’s when you feel good, like how you want to keep tasting dish and savor it. That’s what liking food means.” Kirishima smiles at the boy, “This is actually a first, isn’t it? I guess it’s the spiciness.”
“Spiciness?”
“The burning sensation you feel on your tongue.”
“Burning? My tongue is not burning, Lieutenant.”
“It’s the feeling, Katsuki. Like something is prickling your tongue, that’s what spiciness is.”
“Is that so?” Katsuki look contemplative, taking a few more bites, a small smile gracing his lips that makes Kirishima’s heart in his chest, “I like this food you gave me, Lieutenant. Thank you.”
After that, Kirishima tries to learn how to cook that specific stew with the same about of spiciness, sometimes playing with the levels to see what Katsuki prefers, it’s safe to say the highest among it was the boy’s favorite, given that he didn’t even flinch and just fervently ate it without question.
A few weeks have passed, and he’s gathered new things about Katsuki. One of them would be is that he’s enamored by flames, by fireworks, he’d often tell Kirishima that the mixture of emeralds and blue against the dark sky is beautiful, that the mixture of pinks and violets create an unidentifiable sensation in his chest, that when he gazes at the explosions in the heavens, those bathed in amaranths and amber it reminds him of Kirishima, of his compassion, of how he’d like to feel what he feels.
“I feel different when I’m with you, Lieutenant.”
Kirishima learns of Katsuki’s fascination of red, asking him to buy a ruby pendant they’d found by the market, when he asks why all the answer he gets is, “It reminds me of your eyes, Lieutenant.” Because of that, Kirishima may or may not spoil Katsuki a tad, giving him gifts or whatnot that he thinks the boy would like.
And, at some point in time, in the battlefield, where they managed to survive another, Katsuki asks why Kirishima gave him that name, “It’s because, the moment I first met you, Aizawa told me that you will become the reason for our triumph over the enemy.” He says easily, “You share the name of which means victory,” That was the moment the boy rushes towards him in a tight embrace, his warmth was something Kirishima could remember clearly, and he offers it back.
They return to their posts soon after, this is where he learns about Katsuki’s family, on how he’d never met them, on how he can’t seem to remember his past, on how he thinks that they didn’t want him because of what he is now.
Kirishima told him otherwise, Katsuki now believes him.
—
“I’ve been told that I’m unnerving.” Katsuki says, watching the flames of war consume the battlefield, his dagger dripping with blood, “What does that entail?” He glances back at Kirishima, taking in his shaking figure, of how his hands drop his weapon, of how his knees buckle, of how he picks up a photograph that had been littered amongst the mud and grime, “Lieutenant, are you injured?” He motions near the taller male, brushing away the tears with his thumb, “Am I the reason why you feel like this?”
He takes a look at the photo Kirishima was holding, it shows a man, probably in his thirties with dark hair and blue eyes embracing a young girl who shared the same characteristics as he does. The background, though muddied from external deformations, is bathed in amber, he takes in the sight of a field of blue flowers and he looks back at his superior.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why do you apologize?”
“I’m sorry.”
—
The war is finally over.
And, all he sees is red.
“Lieutenant, I’m not leaving without you!”
Tears trickle down his cheeks, he brings his uninjured arm towards Katsuki, brushing away the flaxen locks away from his eyes, “Live, and be free, Katsuki.” He says instead, titling his head back, dust griping his skin, “I’m not going to live much longer, just leave.”
“No!” Katsuki bites back, biting his uniform as he tries to drag both of them from the crumbling fortress, his pained groans resonating loudly in Kirishima’s ears, he pulls away, scarlet eyes facing his, tears forming from the corners of his eyes, blood dripping from his arm, from the wounds on his face, “If I am to leave, it would be with you, Lieutenant Kirishima!” He cries, forehead pressing against the crook of his neck, breathing heavy and labored. “I willing to die for you, I’m willing to die with you.” He whispers.
He takes a sharp intake of breath, a sob escaping his lips. He replies by pulling the boy in an embrace, rubbing on Katsuki’s back, whispering reassurances as he feels the lad relax from his hold. Kirishima takes note of the detonations that resonate from the falling threshold, he knows what it means and, he knows he won’t make it out. He glances back at Katsuki’s figure, passed out, but alive, so he carries Katsuki with all the strength he has. “I love you, Katsuki. From the bottom of my heart.”
—
“I love you,” Katsuki says to Aizawa, taking the man by surprise, when he wakes up on the hospital bed, arms replaced with mechanic ones, “What does it mean?”
He takes a breath, Aizawa thinks that he’s grown old and weary, “Why do you ask?”
“It’s the last thing Lieutenant said to me,” He supplies, toying with the limbs, tears forming from scarlet eyes, “Everything was hazy, but he told me that he loved me. I don’t know what it means. Does it mean goodbye? Is that why he didn’t take me back? Does it mean that I’m no longer of use?”
Aizawa closes his eyes, “No. That’s not it. When he told you those words, he means that he wants you to become more. To be happy no matter what, that he’s willing to give up the world for you.” The words come out easily, remembering the words Kirishima shared when he was drunk alongside his comrades, Kaminari teasing him about his affection towards Katsuki, Ashido and Sero laughing at the exchange, “It doesn’t mean goodbye, it means he’s forever with you. He didn’t take you back because he knows you deserve better, you deserve not to be treated as a tool, as a weapon, you deserve to be treated your age, just a stupid young boy. That’s what I think he means.”
“What should I do now?”
“I think that’s up to you.”
—
Kirishima sleeps silently, unmoving and seemingly serene.
Katsuki takes it upon himself to visit frequently, and, as the months pass by, he decides to leave. In order to understand why Kirishima treasures him, why he loved him. Perhaps, when he’s finally understood what it means, the boy would wake up. Kirishima would offer him a smile, a reassurance and an explanation.
—
He becomes an Auto Memory Doll in the postal company established by the retired military legend, All Might, who shares the emotions of every individual through writing letters. Through trials and tribulations, Katsuki slowly understands the feelings of the people he’s writing for, he’s slowly understanding the words Kirishima said to him.
—
Months pass by, and Katsuki learns the weight of his emotions when he’s assigned to a new client, how his tears trickled uncontrollably, how his chest ache, how when he’s held by Kirishima, he feels alive. Different.
“Katsuki, can I kiss you?”
His eyes widened, a blush tainting his cheeks, “This is what lovers do, correct?”
Kirishima laughs before giving a nod, “Yeah.” He breathed, his hands caressing the side of Katsuki’s face, pressing his lips on his forehead, trailing down to the bridge of his nose, his cheeks then, his lips. It felt as though he was on fire, the places where he left his mark burning, when they parted, it felt like an eternity.
“Lieu- “
“Eijirou.”
“What?”
“Call me, Eijirou.”
“E-Eijirou,” He spoke, watching how the other’s expression, a tinge of giddiness and a flush of red on freckled cheeks, “Could you say those words to me, one more time?
He didn’t think of what it was, Kirishima already knew, “Of course, I’ll say it how many times you’d like,” He smiles, bringing Katsuki close once more, lips lightly grazing his, “I love you, Katsuki.”