Chapter Text
Kirishima is afraid.
There is nothing more true than that right now. The villains have targeted Katsuki Bakugou, his best friend, the person he cares about most. Kirishima's stomach is twisting into painful knots as he begs to Vlad King to let him go.
Vlad will not. It's infuriating, and it makes Kirishima's insides burn hot. Bakugou is out there, probably at least kind of afraid, and Kirishima can do nothing. Kirishima is wringing his hands and begging as best he can, but Vlad won't even consider it.
A villain comes in, tries to burn them with hot blue flames, and it only makes it worse. Bakugou is being targeted by people like this. Terrifying, powerful, volatile, murderous. Aizawa beats the shit out of the villain, liquefying the fiend. Aizawa explains that it was a clone before pawning Kota off on them and running off. The kid looks totally horrified.
Kirishima yells, "Please! He's out there and we don't know if he's safe or not!"
Vlad sneers, "You're staying here! None of you will leave this room, understood?" So Kirishima stays.
His thoughts run rampant with ideas he can't use. How quickly would Aizawa expel him if he jumped out the window and hunted Bakugou down? Where is the explosive blonde? Is he safe? Are there people with him? Kirishima's mind is slowly eating itself with worry. The longer he waits, the worse it gets.
He paces and he broods and worries his lip with sharp teeth, until Kaminari grabs him by the shoulders and makes him sit down. "Dude. You're gonna make yourself bleed. Your teeth are too killer for that. Calm down."
Kirishima almost, almost snaps at him. Instead, he tries to take the advice, but he's drumming against his leg and his shoulders are still tense.
Soon, authorities arrive, and Kirishima gets the all-clear to leave. He runs as fast as he can to the rest of the class, looks at them, and not everyone is there. A lot of his classmates are missing, in fact. He hopes all of them are alright. He pleads to every god anyone has ever believed in that Bakugou is just getting treated for some scrapes. He rushes up to Todoroki, "Is everyone okay? Where's Bakugou?!"
Todoroki looks at his hands, "Most of us that aren't here were hurt by the gas villain. The rest have moderate injuries, the worst of the students is Midoriya for sure. One of the Pussycats is in critical condition, and one of them is missing. Bakugou... is missing as well."
Kirishima's heart sinks stories below the ground.
He sits next to Todoroki and watches his feet, cursing at them in his mind. These feet could've carried him to where he needed to go. They could've run him from the building and gotten him to his friend in time. They could've done something, anything more than what they did. Kirishima bites back tears as the sirens sound off around him, trying his best not to cry.
He doesn't deserve to shed tears when he didn't even do anything. Todoroki looks over at him, sadness in his heterochromatic eyes, "I'm sorry. I was right there. I almost had him, but this- this villain used my full name like he knew me and took him away. I'm sorry."
Kirishima can barely choke out it's okay without a voice crack. They both know that's a lie, though. Todoroki did his best and he is not faulted for what happened, but still, nothing is okay. Not one thing about this situation is. So many of his friends are either hurt or scared, and his best friend is missing. Stolen by villains who aimed to kill them not long before this. His heart aches for him, and he hopes that Bakugou has not been, will not be hurt. How could Kirishima ever be okay with himself if Bakugou got hurt because Kirishima hadn't kept him safe?
Todoroki's voice is soft, "It's okay to cry, Kirishima."
The floodgates break. He sniffles and sobs into his own hands. Todoroki is awkward and does not attempt to comfort Kirishima, simply offering somber silence. It's a good thing that he does. Kirishima can't think of any words that would ease the pain and guilt he feels.
He's hit with so much shock and worry in such strong waves it's disorienting. Guilt runs through his mind, chased endlessly by his fury at those who stole his best friend away. The police ask all their questions, and Kirishima forgets what he says as soon as the words leave his lips. He feels so numb.
He walks through the front door, and immediately his moms are there with hugs and kisses and words of reassurance. It's just what he needs, absolutely perfect, but at the same time all too much. He breaks into tears again. His parents hold him tightly and he cries like a little baby for what feels like minutes. When he gets it together, he's bombarded with questions. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you? What happened?" His mom asks, a false calm over her voice. He can see the puffiness in her eyes and the patchiness on her cheeks. She'd been crying. It hurts him more than he expects it to, that his mom had shed tears for his sake.
His mama, however, is not as calm. She's running her hand through his hair, her hand gentle but her arm tense. She kisses his forehead, sighing against his scalp before muttering, "I can't believe this. Do we know who the villains are? I cannot express how much I want to find those sons of-"
"Hun. Not right now." After his mom's quick comment, she turns back to her thoroughly heartbroken son. "Ei, baby, come on. We'll get you on the couch and make you a hot chocolate."
Eventually, they let him visit the hospital. The entire way, he's thinking and driving himself up the wall. His best friend is held by the villains and he could do nothing about it. Kirishima kept obsessing over how Bakugou must be afraid, probably terrified. Bakugou won't admit it, his pride won't allow it, but Kirishima knows him enough to see it without being told. Kirishima can't help but imagine the worst possible scenarios. Bakugou beaten bloody, or burned by that fire guy's power, near death or worse. Kirishima wants to turn his mind off. He wants to stop the angry tears that threaten to show up. Bakugou has been there for hours, now. Bakugou is all alone with these horrible people, and the media are talking about him like either a potential villain or a weak kid who was lead into their hands.
Kirishima almost smiles. Bakugou would be furious.
Kirishima starts to think of the students who were hurt. Those unconscious or injured. Some are worse than others, but God, Midoriya's in a league of his own with trauma. It's almost scary to think about it, and most of the damages were from his own Quirk. Kirishima's heart aches for them all. They were out, trying to have fun, and instead were hurt by these awful, horrible people.
He stares at his hands as the train nears the hospital. Bakugou rarely needs anything, rarely even wants for something out loud. This time, though, Bakugou needs Kirishima to be there. Bakugou is relying on Kirishima, whether he knows it or not. Kirishima knows. He know what he's got to do.
He steps out in the cold night air, the air heavy with humidity and the realization of his task. He steps through the hospital doors, through the sterile halls. He knows what he has to do. Of course he's going to do it. There is very little he wouldn't do for Bakugou. The real question is whether or not anyone will aid him in this. Kirishima is prepared for the repercussions. He'll take all of them if it means Bakugou is safe. Kirishima is going to risk the world for his best friend. Kirishima is going to save Bakugou.
As soon as he nears his classmates, he bumps into Todoroki. The dual-colored boy stares, "Why are you at the hospital?"
"I couldn't just sit around and do nothing. Our friends are hurt and I want to visit them."
The look in his eyes shifts. "Same here. How... are you holding up?" It's a kind question, a small gesture that Kirishima appreciates. If anything, he feels bad at the question. He doesn't deserve to be asked that. He's not had to go through anything perilous. He didn't watch the villains steal away their classmate. Todoroki holds himself together with the seasoned experience of a hero already. Kirishima can hardly think without bouts of guilt punching their way into his brain.
"I'm fine. You?" Todoroki replies with something equally half-hearted. "I just feel so guilty. Bakugou is my best friend. I heard he was in danger and didn't move. I'm horrible."
Todoroki simply states, "I understand. It's a shame there isn't more we can do."
Kirishima knows a chance when he sees one, and that was an invitation. "Maybe there is." Todoroki perks up, curious. "We can't fight. That's pretty obvious. Regardless, nothing stops us from going on the battlefield and not fighting. If we rescue him without getting in a fight with villains-"
"We won't be breaking any rules." Something solidifies behind his eyes. "Yes. We need to do this." Kirishima gives a small, grateful smile. "We should visit, and then ask tomorrow. Most of them will still be out of it or too tired to answer properly." Kirishima talks with his friends. Some are in better shape than others. He goes home that night, and when he's finally pulled into sleep, it is not peaceful.
The villains are everywhere. Bakugou is in the center, arms outstretched. He's fighting, but there's only so much he can do. As he tires, the villains get closer. Bakugou avoids them well, until an unfortunate stumble lands him in unforgiving arms. Dream Kirishima is just watching in fear, not moving towards his friend. Those unforgiving arms belong to Tomura Shigaraki, the villain they have faced before.
The villain's lips curve into a twisted grin, his eyes peering from behind the hand to lock directly with Kirishima's as he lowers the last of his fingers.
A hideous, pained shriek sounds out.
Kirishima is covering his ears, but it's just louder and louder until it stops altogether.
Bakugou's body begins to flake apart, crumbling slowly like a well packed sand sculpture doused with water. His arms reach for Kirishima's, and are the last part of him to crumble. Kirishima's best friend has become a pile of ashes, moments from blowing away in the harsh wind.
Tears well in Kirishima's eyes as he calls out for what was once his friends, until the villains turn towards Kirishima. He's running and running, until he feels those same crusty hands close around his own throat.
Kirishima wakes with a start, gasping for air, tears sliding down his cheeks in paths left by their predecessors. His sheets are damp from sweat and tears, and when he pushes the hair from his face, his hand comes back a little damp. He takes big breaths, eyes wide and hands balled into his soft blankets. When he regains control of himself, he stares at his poster of Crimson Riot. What would he do? "That's a stupid question." Kirishima mumbles to himself, "Crimson Riot would've saved Bakugou already, and this would all be over."
He decides in that moment.He is not Crimson Riot, he is not strong enough to be. Not yet. Bakugou would be safe at home if Kirishima had some semblance of the bravery his idol possesses. All he can do is make up for it. His eyes stare at his own hand. Yeah. There's only one thing I can do.
I'm going to go get Bakugou back.