Chapter Text
"It's not fucking fair!" Bakugou shouted, stomping back and forth across the empty classroom. "How dare Icy Hot fight Deku harder than me? I'll destroy both of them!"
Kirishima sat patiently in Aizawa's desk chair, nodding every so often. It had been about a day since the sports festival ended, and it was apparent that Bakugou was still not over his "victory". They had a few classes off to give them a break after all the fighting, and Bakugou was using it to stew in his own anger. Kirishima was using it to try and prevent another fire at school.
"Come on, Bakugou, can't you just be happy you won?" he asked for the third time. He doubted Bakugou heard him, deafened by his own rage, but it couldn't hurt to try again. After all, Kirishima was the only one out of their entire class who dared come close to him when he was in this state due to his quirk. He might as well try to help him somehow, even if he didn't fully understand the problem at hand.
For once, Bakugou chose to listen to him, although he couldn't tell if this was a good or bad thing. "It's not a real victory if he didn't give it his all," he seethed, pausing his pacing for a moment. "Of course I could beat him with both powers easily, but nobody else will ever know. Just another way that damn candy cane is trying to get back at me."
"Why would he be trying to get back at you? What did you do?" Kirishima asked, spinning around a couple of times. He wondered if Aizawa would get angry that he was in his chair. He wondered if he cared that much if he did.
"No fucking clue, but if you can't tell, I tend to piss people off easily," he grumbled. "Him and Deku and the rest of this stupid class better watch out because next sports festival I'm gonna destroy all of them so hard early on they won't be able to compete at all the year after!"
"For someone whose biggest dream is being a hero, you do say some pretty villainous things," Kirishima said under his breath. Bakugou turned to him for a solid ten seconds of silent glaring before continuing his rant, doubling his pace.
"And the way everyone looked at me. The way fucking All Might looked at me. They're supposed to see their future number one hero, but they're all too busy making shitty doe eyes at Icy Hot. Every day, every second, he's always trying to one up me. When people look at him, they see his fucking 'amazing' number 2 hero dad, and his big fucking powers. When people look at me, they flinch and keep going past. I mean, they're supposed to flinch, but they're also supposed to admire me. Where's my fucking admiration? Where are all the adoring fans? Where's my fucking challenge?-"
He probably would've kept going if Kirishima didn't throw a pencil at his head, stopping his self-pity parade in its tracks. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You want fame. You want glory. You want crowds and crowds of people cheering for you as you beat the crap out of some villain. Believe me, I get it. I want it too." I've dreamed about it as much as you have, he thought, but didn't dare say.
He paused, stopping his self-reflection before it could get him off track. This wasn't about him. This was about stopping Bakugou from blowing another fuse over something he should be celebrating. That was the main issue at hand. Bakugou was always the main issue at hand in their class.
"But before you get all your fans, you need to at least pretend you like them. You're right, you're hostile, but that shouldn't be a permanent fixture of your personality. At the very least, it shouldn't define who you are. You don't want to cause chaos and destruction wherever you go. You want to be the one to stop it, the main one to stop it. And in order to do that, you have to be willing to take your victories when they come. Are you going to refuse to capture villains when you feel they didn't put up enough of a fight? Will you go easy on the smaller ones so that the battle is more exciting for you? And if you have to fight alongside other heroes against a greater enemy, are you even going to be capable of it?"
He stopped his rambling when he saw the guarded look on Bakugou's face. Instead of the full fury that overcame his features before, there was a quiet, simmering anger. It wasn't aimed at Todoroki, or Midoriya, or even Kirishima. He couldn't tell who it was directed at, and by the looks of it, neither could Bakugou.
Finally, Bakugou said, "I don't need your judgement. I get enough of that from everyone else who stands in my way. What are you doing in here, anyways? I doubt I opened the fucking door for you, and I definitely locked the door behind me."
"I'm not trying to judge you," Kirishima protested, putting his hands up. "And I'm not in your way. Our school isn't supposed to be competing against each other." He thought it over for a second, chewing on his lip. "Ok, maybe the sports festival was about competing against each other. But in the long run, aren't we all competing against a common enemy? We train together, we learn together, all so we can beat the same evil people. So no, I'm not in your way. And you need to stop treating all of us like we're just stepping stones on your way to victory. Even if you're the number one hero, there's still two, and three, and four, and we're gonna fill those spots whether you care or not."
"Alright, stop your preaching," Bakugou groaned, sitting down on a desk. "Sounds like a lot of fucking judging to me, but don't start ranting again. You still didn't say how and why you're here."
"Aizawa gave me the key when he heard the first yells. And I want to make sure you're ok," he responded immediately. Surprisingly, Bakugou snorted.
"Like hell you're concerned for me. You probably just want to make sure I don't destroy the room." He stopped, looking Kirishima in the eyes for the first time that entire conversation. "I wouldn't have, if you were wondering. I'm pissed as shit, but I'm not going to get kicked out of school for something as dumb as property damage."
Kirishima wondered if he was really that transparent. His mom always said that he wore his heart on his sleeve. In a way, he was the complete opposite of Bakugou. No one could get a single emotion out of him besides rage and contempt. He wondered if it was exhausting, always being that scornful. Anger was a good fuel for most of the time, but at the end of the day, it really took something out of you.
"That was part of the reason," he answered honestly, "but it's not all. You've made it your mission to isolate yourself from the rest of the class, so the rest of them are steering clear of you. I don't think you're all bad, though. Sure, you're angry and grumpy and loud and kind of mean sometimes-"
"Gee thanks."
"I'm not done! Your motivation makes you a little much to be around, like an explosion that goes off too strong to be near-"
"Great fucking example."
"Stop interrupting me!" He took a deep breath before continuing. "Point is, I think there's more to you. I think we could be friends. And if I need to be the one to make you quit your pity party and stop your moping, then so be it." He reached into his pocket and pressed something into Bakugou's hand. He unfurled his fist to find his gold medal in it.
"Where'd you even get this? This is a new level of creepy," Bakugou muttered, although he made no move to throw it out.
"I was walking behind you when I saw you throw it out. I thought you were being rash, so I held onto it for you." He paused, waiting for a sarcastic or biting remark from Bakugou. When none came, he continued. "Whatever you might think of Todoroki or Midoriya, this medal is still yours. You beat out every other person in the arena. Hell, you beat me easily enough."
Ooh, said too much. I need to stop making it about me.
"Keep this medal with pride, Bakugou. You deserve it." Out of things to say, he balanced his head on a fist and waited for Bakugou to say anything, do anything, react at all. The boy was stiff as a statue, and it was starting to freak Kirishima out. He was hoping to get Bakugou to stop yelling, but now that he did, he didn't know what to do with him.
Finally, Bakugou shoved the medal into his pocket. "Only so you won't go sifting through my trash anymore," he grumbled, but Kirishima still considered it a victory.
"Well now that you're done sulking, me, Kaminari, Ashido, Sero, and Jirou are all going to get something to eat since we have lunch now. Wanna come?"
Bakugou sniffed, turning his face away. "I have better things to do than hang out with idiots like you guys."
Kirishima shrugged, hopping up from the chair and turning to go. "If you change your mind, you know where to find us. Also I think you should stop calling people idiots. People react better in general when you call then their real names." He walked out before Bakugou could respond, shutting the door softly behind him. When he reached the lunchroom, his friends all crowded around him.
"Hey, you survived!" Kaminari said, putting an arm on his back. "I thought for sure you wouldn't make it back alive."
"Great, you lost me ten bucks," Ashido complained, handing Jirou a ten dollar bill. "I thought he would definitely explode you at least once. You aren't even singed!"
"What can I say?" Kirishima said with a grin and a shrug. "I have charisma no one can withstand."
"So is he coming to lunch with us? I have to prepare in advance," Sero asked, crossing his fingers.
"He said he isn't, but I have a feeling he might." They dropped the subject, and instead started talking about specialty moves. But every so often Kirishima would glance over at the empty space next to him, just for a second.
When Bakugou joined their table wordlessly fifteen minutes later, no one mentioned a thing. But no one missed the smirk Kirishima sent his way, and they certainly didn't miss the tiny explosion that sailed over their heads.