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The dawn light barely makes it into the hallways. The windows wide and shining, sun-filled to the brim.
It almost makes Kirishima happy that he woke up this early but he can feel the sleep pulling his eyes back close, dragging his limbs into sluggish movements. The yawn is already forming in his throat. Maybe he’d be able to appreciate it more if he hadn’t gotten only more than 3 hours of sleep.
Kirishima digs his toes into the fuzz of the carpets, pulling his fingers behind his head. Would there be anybody else up? The soft blow of the AC is the only sound he can hear. So much for annoying anyone else. He can feel the rumble of his stomach. Might as well get a snack, right?
The trek to the kitchen is a long and silent one. The hallways are just barely lit enough so that Kirishima can just see but that doesn’t stop him from bumping into the edge of every and any inanimate thing. It’s hard to walk with hardened legs though, so he endures the pain.
The light in the kitchen seems almost as bright as the sun compared to the darkness of the hallway, Kirishima has to squint his eyes as he looks for a snack. He had just started to take one of Kaminari’s Gusher Packs when he hears the clatter and then the faint pattering of feet against the wood floor.
Kirishima can feel his heart beat faster in his chest, he brings a hardened arm up to protect himself. Is there a villain in the dorms? How’d they get in? Wha-
He can barely tell its Bakugou when he emerges from the dark, panting and fear in his eyes.
“Ba-”
He moved toward the fridge, hands scrambling to catch himself on the countertops. The silence flooded the room, panic filtering in through its cracks. He reached soft fingers to touch Bakugou’s elbow, hooking one into his cotton shirt.
“Bakugou!”
Kirishima couldn’t prepare for the hand that grabbed his throat, throwing him against the marble counter. He could feel Bakugou’s sweaty fingers dig into the flesh of his neck and the pops of explosions coming from his other hand.
Bakugou’s breathing came out in ragged spurts, mixed with the loud demands for him to be left alone. His face was scrunched up in a fearful glare, eyes red from crying. The tears that stained Bakugou’s face didn’t stop flowing, even through his screaming. Even through all the anger that rested on his face, Kirishima could see the fear. The inkling of horror residing in his scared eyes. Kirishima wanted to be scared but then the worry was covering him, wrapping him in a cold embrace. He wanted Bakugou to be okay, he needed Bakugou to be okay but the look in his eyes, the fear that remained even while he looked at Kirishima he knew that it wasn’t going to happen.
He hardened his neck and hands before bringing them up to rest softly on Bakugou’s.
“Baku...gou! Calm...calm down.” Even with his hardened skin, he could still feel the strain on his throat, pushing on his airways. Bakugou only huffed, explosions popping in his hand again. He didn’t realize it was Kirishima. Kirishima brought a hard hand to his cheek, softly rubbing it against his tear-stained cheek.
“Pl...ease!”
Kirishima let out a soft whimper as Bakugou released his grip on his neck, hands falling to his side. The tears were coming down his cheeks must faster than before, his bottom lip wobbling.
“Kir...Kirishima, I-” He stopped as a broken sob fell from his lips, a hand jerking up to hide his mouth.
“I’m so...so...sorry.” Bakugou’s shoulders rose and fell with his jerky sobs, hands covering his face as he cried into them. “I didn’t me-” Another harsh sob fell from his lips. He dropped to the floor, probably exhausted and so scared.
Kirishima didn’t hesitate to stop himself from wrapping his arms around Bakugou’s tiny figure. He had never seen Bakugou like this, wished he didn’t ever get the chance to. Bakugou looked so small in his hands, crying as he held onto his shirt, sobbing apologies.
“I’m so...pathetic. I never meant to hurt you.” His voice was faint and course, as he rested in the crook of Kirishima’s side.
“You're not pathetic. You never have been.” Kirishima pressed soft reassuring palms into Bakugou’s hair.
Bakugou didn’t respond. Kirishima didn’t make him but he would say those words over and over if he needed to. He’d tell Bakygou that this was never his fault, that none of this was because of him. He did what he could, he did the best he could. As always.
Bakugou pressed soft tear-stained cheeks into Kirishima’s chest. And Kirishima did too.