Chapter Text
Why did she listen to Kaminari?
Really, you'd think she'd know better by now. After all these years.
And it was at a moment when she was trying to be a mature, responsible adult and finally do her tax forms after patrol, which is agony even if you do have head for numbers. But Eijiro had been putting it off until the last minute, even after promising herself that she wouldn't do it again.
Maybe that was why she had her phone with her instead of leaving it to charge on silent in her bedroom. Someone might call or text, giving her a flimsy excuse to drop whatever she was doing.
And the excuse came, in the form of Kaminari Denki.
She answered before it finished the first ring.
"Hey! What's up man?"
"Greetings, bro-ette ! Whatcha' doing?"
Eijiro glanced at the forms strewn across the table. "Adulting. And it's torture."
"Ouch! Good thing I called, 'cause I got just the thing to lift your spirits."
"What's that?"
He adopted a lofty tone. "I have found... an hilarious thing."
"'An' hilarious? Somewhere out there Iida is having a fit, and he doesn't know why."
"Weird grammar aside, you need to check out the latest issue of My Suit."
"The men's magazine?"
"No, the tuxedo mailed to me by the Suit of The Month Club. Of course the magazine!"
"Why should I look at a men's fashion magazine?"
"Because it's got an hilarious thing."
"Will you stop saying that?"
"Just trust me on this." He chuckled. "You'll die."
"Hell, anything sounds better than filling out tax forms."
"You're doing taxes?! Good God woman! Get thee to some levity! Then tell me what you think."
"Will do."
"Great! Bye!"
Eijiro hung up, briefly weighing the pros and cons of looking at a hard copy of the magazine later when she could get away to the store, versus looking it up on her tablet right now.
Another glance at the mountain of paperwork before her was all the convincing she needed.
She unplugged the tablet from it's charger, then went to the magazine's website.
The first new topic popped up, and Eijiro sucked in a breath. Then let out a laugh.
Right there, glaring from the cover of Japan's answer to Esquire and GQ, dressed in a dashing suit, was King Exlpodo-Kills himself.
Truly an hilarious thing.
What manner of threats and bribes had his agency's PR department used to rope him into this? Whatever they were, they couldn't be worth the hours of therapy the entire studio would need afterwords. Because photography sessions were pretty high up there in the long, long list of Things Bakugo Katsuki Hates. The fact it was little more than a men's fashion magazine probably didn't help matters.
No doubt the man would be ranting and raving about the whole ordeal the next time she saw him. In the meantime, she was happy to reap the humor benefits.
The image got funnier the longer she looked at it. Bakugo glared at the camera with undue intensity, like he was locked in a really high stakes staring contest with the photographer. His jaw was set, lips slightly twisted, indicating he was milliseconds away from yelling out a string of curses that would shock a longshoreman.
Thank you Kaminari. She was feeling better already. Eijiro couldn't wait to see the rest.
She tapped the link and scrolled down.
But when she reached the next image, she suddenly didn't feel like laughing any more.
Holy shit.
It looked good.
Like, really, really good.
So good, she couldn't look away.
And the more she studied it, the more there was to appreciate.
Bakugo had been posed with his hands in his pockets, shoulders back, gaze fixed on something to the photographer's right. Somehow, he looked deceptively relaxed, his expression slightly less hostile, coming off as almost brooding.
Whether this had all been accomplished by lighting, angle, or auspicious planetary alignment, she could only guess.
What she did know, was that this was a work of art. Plain and simple.
She tentatively scrolled down further, dreading what could be next, but morbidly curious. The minute it appeared on her screen, Eijiro swore her soul actually vacated her body.
Holy shit! This was even worse!
This one was in black and white with the subject facing forward, looking down at the jacket button he was fastening (or unfastening, rather), tie undone and top three buttons popped open, showing a lot of collarbone.
Oh no.
No no no no no.
She couldn't...
She could NOT deal with this noise! No sir!
Sure she'd seen him in suits before. Heck, she'd even bought him one. And it had looked great on him, thank you very much.
But here, she was made aware of the differences between the ages of sixteen and twenty. The inches he'd grown, the slight but noticeable added bulk, the longer his limbs were in proportion to his body, the sharper jawline, and more prominent bone structure.
This level of... photogenic-ness really shouldn't have been a surprise, considering that he was basically a male clone of his mother, who'd been a professional model back in the day (Which explained so much. Like his weird aversion to ugly but comfy shoes). The studio editor had probably taken one look and said, "What the hell am I supposed to do with these?!"
Finally, through sheer strength of will, Eijiro closed her tablet and set it aside.
Then let her head fall to the table with a loud THUNK!
If there was anything she did not need, it was another reminder of how sexy her best friend was.
It was a fact she'd been painfully... no, excruciatingly... aware of the last four years.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head and tried to return to her taxes.
Right. Time to move on. Focus on this.
No use dwelling on that stupidly adorable grouchy face.
That full curve of lower lip.
That long line of neck bracketed by an open collar.
That glimpse of clavicle...
"RRRRRRGGGHHHGODDAMMIT!"
Okay.
So it was possible that Eijiro was a little in love with Bakugo.
Fine. She was a lot in love with Bakugo.
But who could blame her? He was so many things she admired in a person. Driven, passionate, enduring, resourceful, smart, oddly charismatic, driven (did she already say that? Well, it was worth saying again.)
Not to mention he was cool, unintentionally funny, endearing (also unintentionally), had a badass quirk, was manly as hell, and, as already established, a real looker.
And yeah, he could be a real asshole, but a likable asshole, dammit!
She wasn't really sure when her feelings crossed into the "I like like you" territory, probably sometime before the trip to I-Island. But It took his abduction and following rescue to actually recognize her crush for what it was.
If it had just stayed that way things would've been just fine. Mildly uncomfortable and embarrassing at first, but fine. Apparently it's not uncommon for one to feel some physical attraction to a platonic friend, even mild infatuation. So Eijiro made peace with it and moved on.
But life loves to throw a curve ball.
The summer following graduation, Bakugo did a little bit of international traveling to broaden his horizons (although everyone suspected it had more to do with his oldest friend/biggest rival spending the summer in America, but Bakugo would deny it until he was blue in the face).
He wasn't really gone that long. Only ten weeks,
But by golly, she'd missed him.
Way more than one should miss their best friend. Even if they're crushing on said friend.
By the time he got back she'd faced the music.
And nothing sucks quite like being grossly in love with your best friend. Just ask anybody.
It took some time, but Eijiro eventually reached the point where thinking about Bakugo didn't bring those photos to mind every time ( as well as the accompanying emotions of arousal and guilt). Even so, she actually found herself getting wary at the approach of the squad's semi-weekly get-together.
A tradition started after Bakugo's return from abroad, the five of them would take turns picking a restaurant or bar to hang out at, schedules permitting. This round, Sero had decided upon a medium priced Korean barbecue he'd read good reviews about.
Bakugo was the last to arrive. Because of course he was. And that inevitably triggered the hot topic.
"Hey, I know you! Didn't I see you in a magazine somewhere?"
"Shut your trap, Dunceface." Bakugo grunted as he took his usual spot on the outermost seat beside Eijiro. "I only did it to shut up those PR bastards. They've been hounding me for over a year."
Sero sighed melodramatically. "Such a hard life!"
Kaminari giggled. "Seriously dude, don't act like you're not enjoying the attention just a little bit."
"The fans are certainly having a good time." Mina bounced her eyebrows up and down.
"Why would I enjoy wearing fancy-ass clothes and being posed like a mannequin so some perverts can drool over me?"
Kaminari turned his attention to Eijiro."We still haven't heard your thoughts on them."
Eijiro had already formulated a plan for this scenario.
Said plan was, lie through your teeth. "Y'know, I never got a chance to look at them."
He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? I told you about them, like, a week ago. And they're probably the hottest trending topic on hero social media. How could you miss them?"
Mina pulled out her phone. "I've got them saved right here if you want a peek."
"Don't you fucking dare!" Bakugo snapped. But the pink hero was already shoving the screen in Eijiro's face with a, "Ta-daa!"
Eijiro schooled her features into what she hoped was surprised amusement, letting out a low whistle. "Wow, lookin' good Bakubro!"
Said bro tried to snatch Mina's phone, but her reflexes could be pretty quick when it came to it. Foiled, he crossed his arms and slouched in his seat, grumbling, "Whole thing's fucking stupid." Like a sulking child.
"Remind yourself that when the amorous fanmail starts piling up." Sero laughed.
Yep, Bakugo was definitely pouting right now. "If this is all you losers are gonna' talk about, I'm leaving."
Eijiro tried to think of another topic.
"Soooo, the... uh... the World Cup, anyone planning to watch it this year?"
Bakugo relaxed marginally. "Don't watch football. Just a bunch of pussies runnin' around, pretending to break their legs. 'sides, I thought you preferred rugby, crazy Hair."
Sucess! She couldn't keep the grin from her face. "Yeah, but football's pretty awesome too. Plus, I just think it's great watching different countries come together and play. Kind of like the Olympics."
"Except Olympic fans usually don't end up brawling in the streets." Mina pointed out.
"It's practically an official hobby in England." Kaminari added. "They've even got a name for people that do it. Football hooligans."
Bakugo snorted. "Who came up with that? Some eighty-year-old grandpa?"
Eijiro breathed an internal sigh of relief. Everything was fine.
Except for maybe the fact she had to keep looking away every time his lips closed around his straw, and his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, and she was starting to realize she maybe had a thing for his neck and oh God was that normal?
Yup. Everything was just dandy.
All she had to do was move to another continent and never make contact with him again until they both turned seventy.
Eijiro struggled to put her jeans on one-handed while the other held her phone. "Well my day's been slow. How was yours?"
"Same. Just a purse snatcher."
"I thought that was too beneath you to warrant your attention."
"If I just sat there, that fuckwad would be telling everybody he outran Hypocenter, or some shit like that. 'Sides, it's kinda' funny watchin' them piss themselves when they see me comin'."
She laughed. "Yeah. Forget justice. Scaring the crap out of petty criminals is what it's really all about."
"It's a perk."
It seemed like the moving-to-another-continent plan was going to be unnecessary. By now Eijiro had cooled down to the point where she could sit next to Bakugo without getting flustered or paranoid, returning to their easy companionship without the man himself being any wiser.
Maybe it was the need to prove it to herself that made her extend the following invitation.
"Listen, you want to meet up in a couple hours and grab a drink?"
"Whatever. Not like I've got anything better to do." Which was Baku-ese for, "I'd love to."
"Great! See you then!"
This confidence lasted up until they'd been in the bar for fifteen minutes.
She was used to people recognizing them in public ("It's that damn hair of yours. You can see it from space.") Some people pointed and yelled. Some ran up to them and gushed about how awesome they were. And some tried to give them their space, 'whispering' their comments.
"Oh my God! Is that...?"
"Hypocenter and Red Riot, here in this bar!"
"They're best friends in real life? I thought that was all for show."
But then, her ear caught snatches of 'Magazine', and 'My Suit', and things things like...
"He's even hotter in real life."
"Wow, those eyes!"
"Eyes? Look at his arms!"
"Damn. He can blast me anytime."
Dear God, please not this. Did people really have nothing more interesting to talk about? Had they no shame?
Well, true Eijiro'd had most of the same thoughts they did, but she kept them to herself. And she certainly didn't broadcast them within earshot of the person they were talking about.
Bakugo gave no sign of hearing these things, simply nursing his drink in thoughtful silence, as relaxed as he could be when surrounded by strangers in a public place.
If he could tune it out, then Eijiro could too. She just had to find something to focus on.
What about the music? It was a catchy, soft-rock kind of thing. The kind that Jirou would probably loathe, but it was nicely distracting...
"Why're you so fucking quiet all of a sudden?"
Eijiro jumped. "Huh? Oh, sorry man. I got distracted by the song they're playing."
Bakugo's eyebrows came together. "Well, knock it off, will ya'? I'm not used to being the chatty one."
Eijiro realized she needed to pee. "Gotta' go. Be right back."
As she was washing her hands, another woman came into the restroom and gave a start when she saw who was at the sink.
"Red Riot!"
Eijiro grinned at her, walking to the dryer. "Yep. Heroes heed the call of nature just like everyone else."
The stranger's eyes blinked as if affirming she was indeed seeing what she was seeing. "Wow! So that really was Hypocenter I saw out there?"
"Sure was."
"Are you two together?"
"No!" Eijiro blurted a little too loudly, heat flooding her face. "I mean... no, it's nothing like that. We're just hanging out. As friends."
The poor woman looked confused. "That's what I meant." Then she became horrified. "Oh, you thought I was.... Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I wasn't implying anything like that!"
Eijiro smacked her own forehead.
Open mouth. Insert foot.
"Of course you didn't. That was really dumb of me."
The woman gave an embarrassed laugh. "Well, it was a dumb question to begin with. Why would you both be here in the same bar if you weren't hanging out together? "
"It wasn't dumb at all." Eijiro hastened to assure her. "I've just been drinking a little, and I'm not famous for my brainpower to begin with, so..."
The woman laughed again, this time relaxing a little.
"What's your name, by the way?" Eijiro asked her.
"Kojima Matsuri." She bowed. "I'm glad to meet you."
"Same here."
Kojima looked at her hopefully. "I hope it's not to presumptuous of me, but could you...?"
"Give you an autograph? I'd be happy to!"
"Oh thank you very much!" Kojima fumbled in her purse before extracting a pen. "I'm afraid I don't have anything to write it on, though."
"We could do it on a napkin." Eijiro suggested. Then another idea came to her. "Hey! How'd you like one from Hypocenter while we're at it? Can't promise anything, but it's worth a try." Experience had taught her that Bakugo was far more likely to oblige a fan's request if it came through her first.
"I've already imposed on your evening."
"Trust me," She shot the woman a knowing wink. "We've had much weirder requests over the years."
Kojima grimaced in sympathy. "Yeah, fans can be... scary."
She didn't like to have favorites among her fans. But when they were like this, polite, friendly, and excited without being overawed, the interactions were much more enjoyable for everyone involved.
"Now," She took the offered pen. "About that napkin..."
Bakugo was fiddling with his phone when the two women arrived. Eijiro motioned for Kojima to wait a small distance away before heading up to him.
"Hey, could you hand me that napkin?"
He gave her a sidelong glance. "What for?"
"I'm gonna' sign it."
He rolled his eyes. "Of course. What a stupid question."
She gave him a light shove. "Hey. You don't have to get nasty. A nice fan's asked me for an autograph. And very politely, I might add."
"Fine." He handed a paper square over without ceremony. "Knock yourself out."
Eijiro wrote along the edge:
Live a life without regret!
- Red Riot.
After finishing she cleared her throat. " Speaking of hero autographs..."
Bakugo sighed through his nose, holding out his hand. "Fucking fine."
"You're awesome dude."
"Don't you forget it." He grunted as he scribbled his hero name in the corner.
She presented the napkin to Kojima, who was watching the two heroes with a thoughtful look on her face.
"Here you go! Dynamite signature from a dynamite hero!"
Bakugo snorted behind her.
"Thanks a lot!" The other woman beamed. "That was really generous of you two! I'm sorry to intrude on your night off."
Eijiro shrugged. "Eh, we're used to it by now."
"You are." Bakugo muttered. "Too fucking nice for your own good..."
"Well," Kojima held out her hand for Eijiro to shake. "It's been great meeting you both. I'll be getting out of your hair now so you can finish your da..."
Her face twisted into a look of blushing horror.
"... aaaaouting ! Outing is what I meant to say! Finish your outing! Sorry!" And after one last bow the woman beat a hasty retreat.
Eijiro had been too surprised to respond, and just stood there with her hand still extended.
Bakugo finally brought her back to reality. "You gonna' sit down or keep gawking like a goldfish?"
She let her hand drop. "Yeah. I mean no... I'm sitting."
She pretending to be preoccupied with her drink, but she was now hyper aware of every eye on them.
This wasn't the first time a fan had made wild speculations about their relationship, wouldn't be the last. Heck, as sure as she was sitting here, there was sure to be at least one blog dedicated to chats and/or debates about how close they really might be. The social media tag #hyporiot had bee in turns a source of amusement and embarrassment.
But this time it felt more intrusive. More visceral.
Thanks to those damn photos, she could no longer delude herself into thinking the public by and large didn't see pro hero Hypocenter in a sexual light. As a result, there would probably soon be an influx of increasingly lurid fan works.
And Eijiro would likely be co-starring in a few of them. Seeing them together right now was probably inspiring a lot of would-be authors.
Her chest constricted at the thought
She knew what most of them were wondering. What do they do together in private? Is there more between them than they're showing?
What happens when the audience is gone and the lights are out?
And they would write, in graphic not-safe-for-work detail, exactly what might be happening.
Suddenly Eijiro was spilling her drink in her lap.
"Shit!"
Without prompting, Bakugo grabbed a wad of napkins and handed them to her. "Christ Kirishima, you coming down with something? Ya' keep going space cadet on me."
"Yeah I'm fine." She struggled to mop up the cold beer soaking her jeans. "I'm just... ah... beat from patrol."
He raised an eyebrow. "You were complaining not two hours ago that you had a slow day."
He would remember that.
"Oh yeah." She worried her lip with her teeth. "Maybe I am coming down with something."
"Then you better get home." He caught the bartender's attention. "Yo. We're ready to pay."
"You don't have to leave just because I am." Eijiro assured him.
"I've had enough already." He said. "Might as well head off."
Ah yes. Just what she needed. More guilt.
She tentatively started to offer. "If you'd prefer to stay, I can..."
"Don't act like you wanna' be here when you don't." he stated brusquely, his own brand of concern.
"Alright-y then."
Eijiro tried to appear nonchalant in the walk to the subway, but the silence was awkward to the point of painful, Bakugo's unspoken questions wedging the space between them.
She finally decided to cut the visit short before something gave.
"Y'know what? I think I'll take a cab this time."
Looking a little perplexed he opened his mouth to say something, but apparently decided against it, shrugging instead.
"See you later." She said feebly to his retreating back.
The answer was a barely audible, "Yeah."
It was not okay.
And it continued to not be okay. She was right back to where she started, barely able to function in the same room as him.
She even considered cancelling one of their twice-weekly sparring sessions with the excuse of a pulled muscle or something. But that was the coward's way out. Not to mention unfair to both of them.
So Eijiro soldiered on. Or tried to, at any rate.
In quirkless combat, she was his match, her natural strength and solidness complimenting his speed and agility. But only when her head was in the game.
The fourth (or fifth) time Eijiro hit the mat was was getting antsy.
"Get your head out of the mother fucking clouds, Shitty hair!"
"I'm trying." She grunted, rising to her feet.
"Try a little harder, will ya?"
Oh, she was. She really was. But wrestling with the person you're trying really hard to not have sexy thoughts about was a little counter-intuitive. Hence the distraction.
Bakugo charged again, shoulder almost knocking her over before she side-stepped. She swung for his face but was blocked by his right arm, giving him an opportunity to grab her wrist and to throw her onto the floor.
"Dammit. We've only been here an hour and I've thrown you six times!"
She stood up, again. "I have off days! I'm only human!"
He snorted. "You've never had days this bad."
Eijiro grit her teeth.
Maybe, she was trying too hard.
If she was too focused on not looking too closely at him, there wasn't room for strategy and instinct.
She flashed him a smile. "Maybe I'm just getting warmed up."
Bakugo raised an eyebrow. "Show me then."
She started running before he even finished the sentence, knowing he'd dodge. Sure enough, he leaped out of reach and tried to grab her arm again.
This time she slipped out of his grip, landing a hit on his jaw before he could register.
The force knocked him a step sideways, his hand flying to the area by reflex.
He looked at her with a wild smirk.
"Fucking finally."
It all became a blur of giving and dodging blows and kicks, grabs and twists. Eijiro's mind getting lost to the motions, Bakugo letting out curses and barked laughter.
And then he tried to flip her over again. Eijiro flung her legs around his waist, her sudden weight and momentum making him fall on his side.
"Mother fucking...!"
Panting, she grinned as she pinned his wrists to the mat. "Maybe it's not an off day after all."
He responded with a dirty look before he started squirming and writhing to throw her off. She put all her weight on him, trying to keep her knees on the mat.
"Gonna' have to try harder than that."
"Shaddup." He growled. Changing tactics slightly, he rolled onto his back to give himself easier movement, trying to arch and buck her off.
And the image of him straining, sweaty and bucking under her sent her stupid brain somewhere she really didn't want it to go.
Before realizing it, Eijiro flung herself off him and rolled to the side, panting from more than exertion.
Oh God. Sweet Jesus. Kill me now and scatter my ashes at sea.
Bakugo was looking equal parts furious and baffled. "What the hell?!"
"I tap out!" She blurted, for lack of anything else to say.
"The fuck was that?!" He demanded, scrambling to his feet. "You had me!"
She stood a little slower. "I was... uh..."
Come on Brain! Be useful for once!
Her friend's expression turned thunderous.
"For the love of God! What is your fucking deal!?"
Quick, delay tactic! "What are you talking about?"
Real original.
"You've been acting so fucking weird lately!" He snapped, flinging his arms in the air as if illustrating how insane it was. "It's almost like you're a different person! What I want to know is why?!"
She felt like she was being pulled inside-out and her insides were tying into knots at the same time.
"Why?" She repeated lamely.
"Yes, why!"
She couldn't think, she couldn't... "It's complicated."
"No shit!"
"I just have some crap I need to work through."
His eyes narrowed. "What kind of crap?"
"Ugh!" She groaned. "I can't tell you."
He jerked backwards as if she'd slapped him. "Why not?"
"I just can't okay!"
A series of emotions flickered through his face. "What kind of shitty excuse is that?"
"Dude, please..."
"No!" His hands clenched into fists. "You're the one who's always goin' on about not keeping things bottled up inside! Can't take your own medicine?"
Eijiro hadn't realized she was biting her lip until she suddenly felt a stinging and tasted iron.
A startled expression flashed over Bakugo's face when he saw her bleeding. "Fuck," He said in a quieter voice. "This is killing you."
"Okay, yes it is!" She hastily wiped her mouth. "It's been driving me insane! But I can't just talk to you about it, because if you hear it you'll hate me!"
"How do you know what I'd do?!" Bakugo demanded.
"Because I know you!"
He opened his mouth to give a rebuttal, but then snapped it shut again, growing quiet and calculating.
Oh, she was in deep shit now.
He turned around and marched over to the main exit, stopping within about three yards before facing her again.
"Try to get past me."
"W-what?"
"If you can get past me and leave this gym, I'll let you go and keep your goddamn secrets! If not, you're gonna' spill your guts!"
Eijiro's heart dropped into her stomach. "You can't be serious!"
His glare grew sharper. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
"I'm not going to fight you for this! Why can't you just trust me when I say you shouldn't hear this?!"
"I'm not the only one having trust issues here!"
"Fuck, Bakugo..."
He crossed his arms, jaw clenched.
Frustration lodged a lump in her throat. How did it even get to this? When did it spiral so much out of her control?
How could looking at a couple of stupid pictures lead to the biggest fight between them since they became friends?
She took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts, gouging the distance to the door.
If that's the game he wanted to play...
Taking one last breath, Eijiro charged, head lowered like a battering ram.
Then there was a loud boom that made her ears ring, and the next thing she knew she was on her ass, smelling smoke.
"You didn't say we were using quirks!"
"I didn't say we weren't!"
This was doing the opposite of evening the playing field. The last four years, she had only beaten him three times when they sparred with quirks.
But pinning him to the mat was different than getting past him. This was still doable.
Frustration fueled her next attack, which was just like her first, but with hardening. She had no real plan, just getting through.
This time Bakugo barely managed to keep her at a distance by catching her shoulders, letting off a few explosions into them, mostly to create distraction and wear at her stamina.
They grappled until he created one big enough to push her a few feet back, leaving furrows in the floor.
Eijiro briefly considered using Unbreakable, but decided it would be too big to gamble her lagging energy on.
All she could do was just outlast him, push hard enough...
Again and again and again Ejiro ran, and Bakugo blew her back before she could grab him or land a blow, too quick for her to run around him.
It continued longer than she cared to admit. Their collective stubbornness dragging it on, exhaustion and high emotions making them both sloppy.
Even stopping to catch her breath, she knew her breaking point was getting close.
And so was his.
"You stubborn Woman!" He panted, sweating buckets. "Yer' gonna' pass out at this rate!"
"Don't care!" Eijiro snapped, trying to ignore the fact her legs were shaking so hard she could barely stand. "I'm getting out, even if it's on a stretcher!"
Bakugo gave a frustrated growl. "For God's sake, look at yourself! What could be so fucking horrible you'd rather kill yourself than tell me? I can't..."
Suddenly he stopped, eyes widening as if he'd remembered something.
"That magazine..."
"What?"
"That's when it started. You..."
Suddenly his eyes narrowed into a furious glare, pinning her down.
"It's those goddamn pictures, isn't it?"
Her heart froze into a useless mass.
"No, Bakugo..."
"You think I sold out, didn't you?!"
For a moment she wondered if she'd misheard him. "What the hell...?"
"Go ahead and say it!" Bakugo spat, fist curled so tight his knuckles were white. "I've gone corporate! Stooped to their level! I made you sick!"
"Stop it! I don't think any of that!"
"If you're disappointed in me just fucking say it! I'm an adult, I can take it!" A slight crack in his voice told otherwise.
It was getting worse than she thought possible. "I'm not disappointed in you! I'm proud of you! I know you'd never do that!"
"Then why...?"
"BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVED THEM, OKAY?!"
He froze, going through several nuances of emotion before asking. "You... what?"
"I loved them! I thought they were beautiful! And I can't stop thinking about them!"
His mouth continued to hang open as her exhaustion and frustration pulled down the dam holding in four years worth of emotions.
"Yeah, I've got them stuck in my head! So now I'm spending even more time thinking of how gorgeous and amazing you are! And how every time you make that dumb expression with your dumb face I just want to fucking kiss it off! And... and I just... I can't..."
She lost her momentum, growing cold.
The anger had washed from Bakugo's face, replaced by blank shock.
A couple of times he made vague moments with his mouth, like half-hearted attempts at speaking, but with the ability knocked out of him.
Her throat closed, silence stretching, growing more and more unbearable. She couldn't stand it. Didn't know how to fix it.
So she ran out. Like a coward.
Eijiro wasn't a crier. Not like Midoriya was, anyway. But when you get into a huge argument with your dearest friend and ruin the relationship past repair, of course you'll shed a tear or two... hundred.
She hadn't stayed long enough to shower at the gym, so that was the first thing she did after getting home.
It gave her something constructive to do while she bawled so hard and so long she got the hiccups.
After she was dry and dressed, she did what most people do after heartbreak, which was call her best friend (the one she hadn't just confessed having feelings for).
Mina answered on the second ring. "Hey! What's new?"
Eijiro tried to sound as un-pitiful as possible, which is hard to do when you're hoarse and still have cry-hiccups. "Mina... d'you think you can *heep* come over... real quick? I mean... just *heep* if you're not busy."
"Oh Honey, of course I can! What's the matter? Something happen?"
"Kinda'..."
'I get off in about three hours. Can you hang on that long?"
"Sure. *heep*"
"Great. Hang tight Kirishima."
"Thanks. You're the *heep* best."
Her long-time friend arrived with her civvies askew, as if she'd dressed in a big hurry. She'd brought with her a box of tissues and a bottle of something red and unpronounceable.
"Wine?"
Mina shrugged. "It was either this or ice cream. I went with the slightly healthier option."
Eijiro smiled. "That's sweet of you, but I don't have any wine glasses."
Mina laughed gently. "This is a venting session. Who are we trying to impress?"
They sat at the kitchen table, Mina pouring them both half a glass. "Now, what's going on?"
Eijiro took a swig before starting.
"Bakugo and I were doing our regular sparring session today, and we ended up having a big fight. I mean really big."
Her friend's mouth pinched in disapproval. "Figured that might be the case."
Eijiro bit the corner of her mouth. "Before I go into detail, there's some things you need to know."
Mina nodded, silently urging her to continue.
Eijiro took a deep breath.
"I've been in love with him for years."
Mina blinked, expression unchanging.
"And...?"
Eijiro gawped at her. "What do you mean 'and'?! Isn't that enough?!"
The pink woman reached over to pat her arm, smiling apologetically. "Hate to break it to ya' Hon, but we've all known about it for years."
"Who's 'we'?!"
Mina squirmed. "Our friends. And former classmates. And everybody who attended Yuuei when we did. And pretty much anyone who's seen you two interact for at least five minutes."
Eijiro's face grew hot. "You're joking, right? Mina...?"
She grimaced "You're not exactly subtle, Kiri. There's only so many ways you can interpret a bisexual woman following a cool, handsome guy around like a puppy with it's tail wagging, always saying things like, 'Wow Bakugo, you're so cool!' or 'You're so manly Bakugo!'."
Eijiro let her head drop to the table with a groan. "God... just kill me."
"Then you probably don't want to hear about the betting pool."
She sat back up with a snap. "There's a betting pool?!"
"We had two, actually. Which of you would make the first move, and whether or not you guys would get your shit together before Midoriya and Uraraka."
Eijiro tangled her hands in her hair. "Seriously? What else are you people betting on? How many kids we'll have? Sex and birth weight of our first-born?"
Mina's face lit up. "Say..."
"That wasn't a suggestion!"
"Okay, okay." She held her hands up in a placating gesture. "We're getting off topic. You like him, we know, yadda yadda... What were you saying about a fight?"
Eijiro stared into her glass, inhaling and then letting everything out.
Those damn photos. The Pandora's box of emotions they'd opened. That fan from the bar, and how she felt with everyone watching them. Trying to look at Bakugo's face without fighting back X-rated thoughts, and the guilt about said thoughts. Being terrified that he'd figure out her secret. His mistaking her behavior as signs of disillusionment. Eijiro spilling out her feelings in the heat of the moment. His reaction. How she ran away.
By the time she finished, she was struggling to talk around the lump in her throat.
"I've fucked everything up."
"Honey, no." Mina reached across the table to grasp her hand. "No you haven't. You've just had a setback."
"Setback?" Eijiro gave a wet laugh, then sniffled. "How is telling your best friend you want them just a setback?"
Mina's smile grew. "When they want you back."
Eijiro laughed again, because she didn't want to sob. "Please don't..."
"I'm dead serious!" Mina said earnestly. "That boy's got it bad for you Ei! Everyone can see it! The way he looks at you, the way he treats you..."
Eijiro gave her a skeptical frown, "Add how does he look at me?"
"Like you mean something to him. It can be hard to describe, but it's there."
Eijiro thought back on all the times she and Bakugo hung out. The way he talked to her versus the way he talked to everyone else. They way he let her do an say things that would annoy him if other people did it. How most of the time she was the only one who could diffuse that infamous temper.
She'd examined this all before, but dismissed it as a friend's trust, that if she saw anything else it was because she wanted it to be there. Hearing it from an outside perspective made it more plausible.
But, feelings were one thing. Actions were another
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Even if you're right... and it's a big 'if'... That doesn't mean he'll want to act on those feelings. I mean, you know how he is. It took him years to admit we were friends, how do I know something this big won't scare him off?"
Mina chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I think you're stuck on the worst case scenario. I mean, don't get me wrong, you need to be prepared for it, but not to the point where you get too scared to act."
"But what do I do?"
Mina shrugged. "I don't know him as well as you do, but maybe he needs a little space, a few hours to run it through his mind. Then, tonight, you start laying the groundwork by sending him a text apologizing for earlier and let him know how important his friendship is to you."
Eijiro sighed, resting her chin on her hands. "Well, it's certainly better than anything I can come up with."
The other woman flashed her an encouraging smile. "Don't give up on him yet, Kiri."
"I'll try."
Mina took a sip from her glass before giving another grin, this time mischievous. "And thanks for the idea, by the way. I'm putting down one thousand yen on a boy, five years from now, at least eight pounds."
"You're terrible!"
So she waited. Thinking over carefully all the things she needed to say, even writing down a rough draft to get her thoughts in order.
By eight p.m., she figured now was the best time.
And she at down to type out the longest text she'd ever sent in her life.
[Me] This is just to say I'm so sorry about what I did. I shouldn't have sprung that on you. I've just been tired and scared of losing my best friend. More than anything, I want to be there when you need me. Even though I still wished you'd trusted me and hadn't pushed so hard, I still could've handled that better. I'm not going to pressure you into giving a response you don't mean, before you're ready to give one. Just know that I'm always ready to listen, and won't blame you if things don't turn out the way I hope.
Eijiro hit send and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
He didn't respond that night. Or the next day.
After that, she stopped looking, because everything got crazy.