Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One day, out of nowhere, Kirishima wakes up in a cell. There’s glass instead of bars, and in the top corner—way out of his reach—is a device that Kirishima can feel radiating some kind of energy.

The last thing he remembers is falling asleep on the couch. Again.

He had been on the phone with his mom and—he hates thinking about what he’d said to her. She was just trying to help, he knew that. But Kirishima took it all the wrong way.

And now he’s in a prison cell? He didn’t think he was that out of it. Maybe he was dreaming.

Trying to test out this theory, Kirishima slaps his face as hard as he can.

And it hurts like hell. He can feel the pain on every nerve-ending.

So he’s definitely not dreaming.

There’s a shout and then there’s a guard running towards his cell.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Where am I?”

“Why haven’t you given up on these mind games yet? Haven’t you done enough.”

“Mind games? I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“That’s enough out of you. Don’t make me bring Ground Zero over here.”

Kirishima stopped. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he really didn’t want to find out what “Ground Zero” was. It sounded like some kind of... torture device?

Kirishima nodded and sat back on the bed more confused than ever.

He put his hands on his head and ran them through his hair.

And his hair was way too long. He started panicking and pulled a strand to look at it. It was jet black.

Had he been asleep for a long time?

Feeling apprehension bubble in his stomach, Kirishima stepped towards the glass again, but this time looking at his own reflection.

But whatever that was definitely wasn’t his reflection.

He still had red eyes and sharp teeth. But he also had scars all across his face. Instead of a simple scratch on his eye, there was a jagged mark dragged down his face.

There were other scars, but the one that somewhat mirrored his normal scar was by far the largest. He lightly touched the scar and traced it on his face.

If this wasn’t a dream, he didn’t know what it was.

A sound in the hall caught his attention. It was a TV. It looked like it was playing the news. Or what passed for the news. Because none of what was being said made sense.

I was definitely the same year. But whoever they were talking about wasn’t the prime minister.

Unless there was a coup while Kirishima was asleep? Were his parents worried about him?

Better question: who was he right now?

He tries his best to listen in on what was being said.

‘New footage has been revealed of the fight between Ground Zero and Blood Riot, the one which finally resulted in Blood Riot’s capture and Ground Zero’s victory.”

Wait. Ground Zero?

And Blood Riot sounds kind of like his old Crimson Riot comics.

Kirishima watches the news broadcast and thinks he sees some of the pieces start to fall into place.

He sees two figures fighting on screen—albeit blurry through the glass of the cell. One is blasting explosions like nothing Kirishima has ever seen before. Is it some kind of tech?

And the other figure is wearing some crazy armor. This one is smashing through buildings and going in for the kill shot. People look afraid of him.

The explosion one is clearly trying to protect civilians, but the armored one seems to be trying to go for the innocent bystanders. He feels weak in the knees just watching the ruthless assault.

But what makes him really sick to his stomach is—is the fact that—

If he looks at the armored figure. With long black hair. There’s a close up of his face, and Kirishima can’t make out all the features but.

It’s him. Or whatever this him is.

He feels sick. Kirishima runs over to the small steel toilet and starts to vomit. There isn’t much in his stomach, but anything that was once there is long gone.

He decides, in that moment, that he deserves this. The other him definitely deserved it. And maybe he did too. Whatever in hell happened to him was probably meant to happen. The universe was giving him the punishment he deserved.

Apparently him throwing up drew the attention of the security guard again.

“Oi. Stop it.” The guard’s reactions towards Kirishima make a lot of sense now. Kirishima was some kind of criminal. Probably a murderer.

“That’s it. You’ve been too weird today. I’m calling in Ground Zero.”

Kirishima nods, feeling empty. He goes back to lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling. He can hear the guard walk away. The guard could call ‘Ground Zero’ all he wanted. Kirishima wasn’t planning on fighting back anyway.

After some time, the guard comes back with a pair of strange looking handcuffs. The guard slides them through a small opening in the glass. “You know the drill. Put these on.”

Kirishima obliges, though he stumbles a bit. These aren’t like any handcuffs he’d ever seen before. They were much bulkier—and made of some strange technology. He can tell the guard is getting impatient watching Kirishima fumble his way through putting on the cuffs.

Once the cuffs are on, the guard slides open the door and pushes Kirishima out of the cell.

Walking in this body feels… different. It makes him trip here and there. But soon enough the walk down the hallway is done, and Kirishima is shoved into another cell.

“Wait here.”

Kirishima sits in a chair with a table in front of it. And he waits. And waits. Then the door clicks open. And in walks Ground Zero—who is extremely attractive, much to Kirishima’s surprise.

He’s wearing just a black long-sleeve shirt and black pants. No explosive gear in sight.

Ground Zero makes his way to the table and slams his palms down onto it with enough force that Kirishima can feel it in his bones.

“What the fuck are you playing at?”

Kirishima’s heart is beating at lightning speed. He isn’t sure what to say, so he stays silent.

“I’m supposed to be done with you!” Ground Zero sounds angry and frustrated. Of course he would be. He was dealing with a horrible person.

Kirishima tries to speak, and his voice cracks, “I’m sorry.”

That has the opposite effect on Ground Zero on Kirishima had thought. Rather than be appeased at all, Ground Zero narrows his eyes and jumps towards him.

He picks Kirishima up and slams him into a wall. Kirishima was a little startled at that, but he thought he could handle it. That was until Ground Zero’s bare hand starts to crackle with explosions. Kirishima can’t help the way his jaw drops and his pulse beats even faster.

Ground Zero doesn’t let any of this pass him by. He brings his face within inches of Kirishima’s, glaring intently. “Who the fuck are you?”

Fear crawls into Kirishima’s throat. He’s not scared of Ground Zero—everything about this situation was telling Kirishima that he was the good guy. It’s just that Kirishima had absolutely no idea what to do.

Should he keep up the charade? Should he be honest? Would anyone even believe him?

Who would? He didn’t even believe himself. He couldn’t explain what was going on because he had no idea. So bluffing it was.

“I’m… me.”

“What’s your name?”

Kirishima did not know what the right answer was, “Uh, Kirishima Eijirou.”

“You don’t sound very sure about that.” Ground Zero slammed Kirishima against the wall again, and Kirishima felt his brain rattle. “I’m going to ask you again. Who are you?”

“My name is Kirishima Eijirou.” He stares Ground Zero in the eyes. Trying to be intimidating. It probably wasn’t working.

“I don’t think so.” Ground Zero leans in and he’s nose to nose with Kirishima. “I know Kirishima Eijirou. And you’re no Blood Riot.” His voice is thick with menace and his red eyes bore into Kirishima’s. “Where is the real Blood Riot?”

“I—”

“Don’t lie this time.” His hand crackles with explosive heat.

“I don’t know! I don’t know, okay!” He can hear the desperation in his own voice. He puts his still handcuffed hands in front of him, hoping to get some space to breathe.

Ground Zero stops his hand from crackling. But he doesn’t back up much further. “Explain.”

“I don’t know what’s going on! I just woke up here, in a prison cell! I’m me, but I’m also not me. You want the truth—I have no fucking idea who or what I am.”

Ground Zero drops Kirishima back onto the ground and walks back towards the door. He opens it, takes one look back at Kirishima—who is sitting on the floor, breathing heavily—and then slams the door behind him.

Kirishima spends the next three days in his cell with very minimal human contact. A guard came in twice a day with food. Twice more to take back the food. He was escorted out once for a shower. Sort of. He just stood under some water for a minute.

He isn’t any less confused about what was going on. Kirishima wishes he was smarter, so he could figure everything out.

From what he can tell, this isn’t the same world he remembers. If it’s the same world at all. For one thing, people have powers.

The fighting he had seen on screen wasn’t tech or armor. It was powers.

That meant that Kirishima wasn’t just a villain, he was a supervillain.

And Ground Zero is a superhero.

All of which makes Kirishima’s head spin. He really wonders if Ground Zero will be back, even to just ask some more questions. Maybe then Kirishima could ask some of his.

Kirishima is sitting in his cell when a guard comes to him. It’s not for a meal, it’s too early.

Kirishima stands up, excited. Ground Zero must be here. He hasn’t been excited for much these days, but he desperately needs to get more information.

The guard slides him the handcuffs, and this time Kirishima puts them on faster. He lets the guard push him out and doesn’t trip on his way to the same room he had been in before.

His heart is beating fast—he taps his foot over and over on the floor.

And then in walks Ground Zero—and some woman. Kirishima stops tapping his foot.

“Are you ready to talk today?” Ground Zero asks, and this time he actually sits down in the chair across from Kirishima instead of just going in for the kill.

“I’ll answer any of your questions.” Ground Zero looks satisfied with that, but Kirishima has to play his cards just right, “—if you answer some of mine.”

Ground Zero narrows his eyes, and it looks like he’s calculating something, “Fine. But you have to be completely honest.” He points his thumb toward the woman standing in the corner of the room, “her quirk is to detect biological signs of lying and brain signals. She’ll know if you’re lying or not.”

Quirk? Was that what they called powers

Kirishima can see that the woman looks… scared. Terrified, actually. Of him. Kirishima closes his eyes, feeling like his bones were filled with lead. “I’ll be honest, I swear.”

“We’ll see about that. I’ll go first. What’s your name?”

“Kirishima Eijirou.”

Ground Zero turns to the woman; she nods. Ground Zero turns back to Kirishima, brows furrowed, opening his mouth for another question. “Wh—”

“It’s my turn,” Kirishima interrupts, “What’s your name?”

Ground Zero frowns, but he answers, “Bakugou Katsuki. I’m only telling you that because it’s common knowledge.”

Kirishima supposes that’s fair enough.

“Where are you from? When were you born?”

“That’s more than one question,” Kirishima notes, answering in full anyway.

Bakugou looks at the woman after every answer, and she nods every time. Kirishima hopes that means Bakugou will start to trust him. Or at least that he’s being honest.

“What is ‘quirk?’ Does that have something to do with the powers?”

For a long moment, Bakugou just stares at Kirishima. Kirishima squirms anxiously in his seat.

“You’re lucky this shit’s also common knowledge. Shit you should definitely already know.” Bakugou roughly explains about a system of powers, and he even goes into extra details about the system of heroes as a career—and how they were there to combat supervillains.

More and more pieces start to fall into place for Kirishima. He’s starting to think he really is in an entirely different world. Or a really elaborate and oddly realistic dream. Maybe he’s in a coma.

Because the most difficult thing to believe would be that this was all somehow real.

There’s a little more back and forth between Kirishima and Bakugou. Bakugou asks more about Kirishima’s background: his childhood, his parents, and such. Kirishima asks more about the world he’s in.

What Kirishima really wants to ask about is who he was. Whose body he was in. But he was scared.

Bakugou twists his body to face the woman, “What’s your assessment about all of this?”

She twists her hands together, but she steps forward, coming to stand next to Bakugou. Closer than she had come to Kirishima all day. Which gives Kirishima the smallest sliver of hope.

“He hasn’t lied once today. He’s nervous, but he’s been entirely honest.”

Bakugou nods, but he presses a little further, “There’s more isn’t there.”

“Yes.”

Kirishima sits on the very edge of his seat.

“I studied the scans of Blood Riot’s brain right after he was captured. And the man sitting in front of you… his brain is completely different. He might look the same on the outside, but other than the exterior... he’s a wholly new individual.”

Kirishima exhales a little in relief, at least there was some proof that there was something strange going on. It wasn’t just him losing his mind—most likely.

But Bakugou just leans forward. “So he’s a different person. Doesn’t tell me if he’s good or not. Or if he’s somehow working with the other Kirishima Eijirou.” He leans across the table and grabs Kirishima’s shirt in his hands.

“Here’s the part where your honesty actually matters. Lie and you’ll fucking regret it.”

Swallowing thickly, Kirishima nods.

The woman touches Bakugou on the shoulder, “This is much harder to assess for honesty, so just try to stick to yes or no questions, please.” She shuffles back to her corner.

“I get to ask all the questions now. One: Do you think you’re a good person?”

Kirishima blinks at that question. Did he think he was a good person? Bakugou didn’t hold back. That was a complicated thing to answer.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes or no.”

“I—No. No, I don’t think I’m a good person.” The answer feels like lead in Kirishima’s throat.

Bakugou doesn’t seem to falter from the answer, “Have you ever murdered anyone?”

“No! Of course not!”

The questions come rapid fire after that.

“Have you ever hurt someone to benefit yourself?”

“No.”

“Have you ever stolen something?”

“No.”

“Have you ever kidnapped anyone?”

“No.”

“Have you ever intended on doing any of the things mentioned previously?”

“No.”

“Have you ever conspired to commit a crime?”

“No.”

“Have you ever been in contact with the other Kirishima Eijirou, also known as Blood Riot?”

“No.”

Bakugou’s voice drops lower, “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

Kirishima shakes his head at the sudden change of pace.

“I don’t—That’s not a yes or no—I’m,” Kirishima starts to think of the answer and his throat closes up.

“I’m done.” Bakugou stands up suddenly, pushing his chair back. “Did he lie once? Even a little bit?”

The woman shakes her head.

Bakugou points her towards the door and she leaves quickly. Before the door closes, Kirishima hears a sigh of relief.

Bakugou starts to leave too, but Kirishima still has to know.

“Wait!”

“What?” Bakugou spits out without turning around.

“I need to know. This other Kirishima Eijirou. Blood Riot. What did he do? Why do you hate him so much? Why is so everyone scared of him—of me?”

Bakugou looks back at Kirishima for a moment. And though the look isn’t soft by any stretch of the word, it holds more gentleness than any look he’d gotten from Bakugou before. But Bakugou walks out of the door, slamming it behind him.

The next day Kirishima gets a slip of paper with his first meal.

It’s from Bakugou: a list of Blood Riot’s crimes. Kirishima puts his food to the side and looks at the note.

The list is overwhelming, to say the least, turning Kirishima’s blood ice cold. It’s a very long list of crimes. But one thing is clear.

The other Kirishima was a serial killer. He starts to understand where the name Blood Riot came from.

There aren’t any details about exactly how everything was done, but it’s enough for Kirishima to decide he won’t be eating that day. And he decides that he’ll let them keep him in the prison cell.

Kirishima had always wanted powers. To be strong enough to make a difference. He was weak in his own world, but he’d always assumed that if he were stronger, things would be better.

Turns out, as soon as he got power, he turned into a fucking monster.

He deserves to spend the rest of his days rotting in this cell. Especially after—Kirishima’s train of thought is cut off by a guard coming to his cell, “Hey, you got company again.”

He’s surprised that Bakugou came back so quickly. But it works out for Kirishima. He can tell him that he won’t fight his situation. He’ll sit in his cell peacefully for however long he’s stuck in this universe.

The walk to the other room is familiar to him now. He sits down on the chair, placing his cuffed hands on the table and resting his head on top of them.

Bakugou walks in and takes a seat in front of Kirishima. He’s alone this time, and looking less angry this time. More pensive.

But he still looks pretty angry.

“I have a theory. About what’s going on here,” Bakugou says, “but I want you to tell me what you think is going on first.”

Kirishima shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m not going to fight. I’ll stay here without any fuss, you don’t have to worry. You can be well and truly done with me like you wanted.”

Bakugou narrows his eyes and puts his elbows on the table, “Fine. I’ll go first.”

“I think you’re from an alternate universe of some kind. At first I thought it was an elaborate trick by Blood Riot, but even he couldn’t change his brain chemistry to the point of being a different person. A person who has never hurt anyone before.”

‘That’s not quite true,’ Kirishima thinks to himself. He has hurt people. But he’s impressed that Bakugou was able to figure it all out.

“And then maybe I thought he replaced his mind with someone else’s, but someone from this world. But you really had no idea about anything in this world.”

“I’ve thought of everything else, and nothing would make sense but this. What do you think about that?” Bakugou asks Kirishima.

“You don’t have your friend with you to make sure I’m not lying.”

“Don’t need her.”

Kirishima relents. “I think… I think you’re right. I don’t belong in this world. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t belong in this prison.”

Bakugou sits up straight and rolls his eyes, “Only someone with a bleeding heart would say that they deserve to be in a cell for crimes they didn’t commit.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done in my world.”

“I do, actually. You fucking told me yesterday. Whatever you’re feeling guilty about is your problem, but no reason to stay here and take up space.”

This is an entirely unexpected outcome and Kirishima isn’t sure what to say. “What about Blood Riot? Do you think he’s—that he’s in my body?”

Bakugou nods stiffly and looks to the side, “That fucker somehow managed to get out of prison. No wonder he looked so fucking smug when I brought him in. He had a contingency plan.”

“What if he comes back into his own body and you’ve let me out?”

“I doubt he plans on coming back soon, but we’re going to try to find a way to put him back in his own body—and get you back to yours.”

Kirishima runs his hands through his hair as best as he can with his cuffed hands.

“We’re going to release you,” Bakugou says, “I’m working on the paperwork and talking with people now. Setting some things up. Might take a while, but I’m not letting you rot here because of him.”

Bakugou says the last word with so much venom, Kirishima can feel it in his veins. Even though he doesn’t think he should be released, he’s glad to not be on Bakugou’s bad side.

Bakugou leaves shortly after that and Kirishima is taken back to his cell.

He stays in the cell for another week, and he begins to wonder if Bakugou changed his mind. Kirishima almost hoped that he did.

But then a guard comes to his cell, “Is it true?”

Kirishima stands up and approaches the glass, expecting to have to put on handcuffs. But instead the guard slides open the glass door without them. “You really aren’t him are you?”

Kirishima doesn’t step outside, and he isn’t being pushed. He stares at the open door and stands still.

“You’ve been acting different for a little while now. I wasn’t sure what to make of it until Ground Zero told me.”

Kirishima doesn’t move from the entryway. Is this happening?

“Come on. It’s time to go.” The guard waves him out the cell, but for the first time there’s no aggression.

Stepping outside the cell for the first time without handcuffs, Kirishima feels a wave of something hit him, but he couldn’t explain the sensation even if someone put a gun to his head.

It rushes over him all at once and he stumbles forward, barely catching himself before he falls on his face.

The guard actually gives him a look of sympathy, the most warmth he’s received since he’s been in this world, “That’ll be your quirk coming back to you. First time without it being suppressed I’d imagine.”

Nodding, Kirishima stands up straight and follows the guard to a new room. There he finds a change of clothes. It’s just jeans and a T-shirt, but it seems like a world of difference from the gray he’d been wearing.

The door closes behind him, and Kirishima changes into the clothes.

He knocks on the door once he’s done and it swings open to reveal Bakugou, but this time he’s in the clothes Kirishima remembers from the news broadcast the very first day.

His hero clothes.

“You ready?” Bakugou asks. He’s wearing a mask over his face and Kirishima can’t seem to find the words to answer him.

Bakugou starts to walk ahead, “You’re going to have to be.” He calls out behind him.

Kirishima follows him.

They step outside of the jail and Kirishima gets to see the outside world for the first time. He expects it to be completely alien to him. But it isn’t as different as he’d thought. It’s like his world, but with a few small tweaks.

Bakugou stops on a set of stairs, “Stay here.” He continues forward to a podium where people with microphones and cameras are waiting.

It’s a press conference.

Of course Bakugou would have to explain publicly why he’s letting a known serial killer, a supervillain, just roam free after working hard to capture him.

Kirishima clasps his hands together nervously. He hadn’t expected to be in the public eye. Of course he was too dumb to think of it. The crowd can’t see Kirishima from where he stands yet.

“If you heard rumors that we were releasing Kirishima Eijirou, also known as Blood Riot, today, you’d be right.”

A gasp ripples through the crowd, then reporters crowd Bakugou asking frantic questions.

“Before you ask dumb shit, let me explain. As of 12 days ago, the real Blood Riot managed to escape captivity. He did this by switching his consciousness with that of another Kirishima Eijirou from an entirely different universe.”

The cameras keep flashing and reporters keep asking more and more questions.

“If you all would just shut the fuck up and let me talk, you might find some of your questions answered.”

Though Kirishima admires his brash and direct attitude, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was really the best way to deal with the press.

“I personally conducted interviews and had experts involved in the situation. It was clear that this was not Blood Riot any longer, but someone else. This person had committed no crimes and justice called for his release.”

“I will oversee this all myself. You all know that I am the last person who would ever want Blood Riot back on the streets, or anyone else to get hurt because of him. But I am sure that this new person won’t do anything like that.”

Kirishima isn’t sure what he did to earn such confidence from Bakugou.

“The public, all civilians, will be safe. There’s no need to worry. We will be working our hardest to find the inter-dimensional tools Blood Riot used to escape, and to help this version of Kirishima Eijirou back to his home.”

“That’s all for now. Direct all other questions to my agency.”

Bakugou steps away from the podium and walks towards Kirishima. “It’s time to go. Get ready for a shitstorm with the press.”

Kirishima walks alongside Bakugou and he tries his best to duck his head and avoid eye contact with anyone. But he can hear the yells. People really hate him. Just as they should. Kirishima even narrowly dodges a tomato thrown at him.

Eventually, Bakugou takes a sharp turn and then another, and then they’re on an empty street where there’s a car idling.

“Get in.” Bakugou gestures Kirishima into the back of the car. Bakugou sits in the front.

As the car drives away, Kirishima thinks he should say something. Bakugou said a lot on his behalf. He even freed him from prison.

“Thank you.” Kirishima says, making Bakugou whip around and stare, “for saying those things about me. And for getting me out of jail. For everything.”

Bakugou sits normally in his seat again and grunts in response.

The rest of the car ride is all silence until the car parks in front of an apartment building.

Bakugou gets out of the car, and Kirishima takes that as his cue to get out too.

The car drives away, leaving Bakugou and Kirishima standing there. Bakugou takes a set of keys from his pocket and buzzes them into the building. They walk up four flights of stairs and stop in front of a door.

“This is where you’ll be staying.” Bakugou holds out the keys.

Kirishima takes them carefully, “Than—”

Bakugou slams Kirishima up against the wall in a way that is oddly familiar to Kirishima. “Don’t think that just because I said what I said I won’t be watching your every move.”

“If you make even one wrong move, one little fucking slip up, you’ll have to deal with me. Understood?”

Kirishima nods.

Bakugou lets go of him and walks away.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima calls out to him.

Bakugou pauses, but doesn’t turn to face Kirishima.

“I’ll prove myself to you. You won’t regret what you’ve done. I’ll show you that you can trust me. I don’t want to be him.”

Kirishima doesn’t get a response. Bakugou just walks down the stairs.

Kirishima unlocks the door and goes inside his new home.

It’s nice enough. For what it is.

There’s a bed, and a sofa. A small kitchen and a very small desk in the corner. And a bathroom.

As he locks the door, he realizes he has some questions for Bakugou that he hadn’t gotten to ask.

What is he supposed to be doing here? He doesn’t have any money. He doesn’t have a job. He doesn’t have friends. He doesn’t have a family.

He’s alone.

He doesn’t have clothes. He doesn’t have food.

Fuck.

Before anything else, Kirishima really needs to change his hair.

On the desk there’s a phone and an envelope of cash which would have been highly suspicious if there wasn’t a note attached to it.

The note says something about food and holding him over until he could find a job.

Kirishima ignores the note for now, grabs some money and heads out to go to the convenience store he remembers passing on the way there.

It would only be a two minute walk, but Kirishima knows that he’ll pass by people. And probably be recognized as a serial killer.

Which is part of the reason why he needs to change his hair to his own style as soon as possible.

Kirishima makes it to the store with only a few wide-eyed stares or death glares.

He’s really glad that currency and stores seem to work the same in this world. Even if some people look a little different from what he’s used to. He could’ve sworn he saw someone with a birdhead.

If the situation had been a little different, Kirishima would have thought everything was so cool. Right now, though, he was living his worst nightmare.

The store employees start to greet him, but the words die as they look at him. Kirishima goes straight for the hair aisle.

He finds his usual hair dye and hair gel, which is probably the only good thing that has happened to him in a very long time.

He grabs a razor and some scissors too, and he places the items on the counter for checkout.

The cashier seems to want to die after she lays eyes on Kirishima, but he doesn’t know how to reassure that he wasn’t going to kill her.

She rings up his items quickly, and he pays the proper amount. It’s a little cheaper than usual, he thinks. She might have given him a discount out of fear.

But Kirishima would give all the money in the world for her not to be scared of him.

Kirishima bolts back to the apartment, filled with a sudden burst of energy.

He goes to the bathroom and starts to cut his hair. He’s no professional barber, but he doesn’t want to try his luck by going out in public too much.

Between the scissors and the razor, he manages a decent cut. He thinks.

Then he takes the hair dye and goes through the familiar process of dying his hair.

As he sits on the closed lid of the toilet, if he closes his eyes—if he focuses on the smell of hair dye, the weight of it on his head—he could almost imagine he’s home.

A prickle of tears sting the back of his eyes. He wants to go home.

More than just despising himself for how he left things, for the things he did, he was petrified about thinking what Blood Riot was doing in his body.

After reading about his crimes, Kirishima knew there weren’t any lines Blood Riot was afraid of crossing.

Thinking about it makes Kirishima want throw up all over again. So he keeps his eyes closed and waits for his hair to be ready.

Kirishima is just getting out of the shower when suddenly, his body turns from normal to… a rock?

“Oh shit,” he realizes that it’s his ‘quirk.’ He has powers.

He isn’t really sure how to deactivate these powers. It isn’t strange to him, though, that he’d be horrible at controlling the powers. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling, and then willing the feeling to go away.

Before he opens his eyes, he can feel it go away. He sighs in relief.

After he goes to sleep for a very long time, Kirishima is going to talk to Bakugou.

The next morning Kirishima puts on the same clothes he had the day before. He had discovered clothes in the closet, but he didn’t feel comfortable taking so much.

He isn’t sure why they would give him all of this.

The night before, Kirishima had looked up Bakugou online and turns out his hero agency was right across the street from where Kirishima was staying right then.

Definitely not a coincidence. But convenient for Kirishima.

He walks out, trying to walk like himself, and not a convicted supervillain. He’s not sure how effective he is at it, but he does get less stares. He gives his hair a lot of the credit.

He gets to the agency in no time. He approaches the receptionist stand and tries to remember who he used to be.

“Hi, I was looking for Bakugou Katsuki?” he tries to put in the same amount of brightness he usually used to have.

The receptionist glances up for half a second then gives her attention back at her screen, “Ground Zero is very busy, sir. What’s your name? Do you have an appointment?”

“I’m Kirishima Eijirou,” Kirishima says, a little embarrassed to have the name.

The receptionist looks up so violently, Kirishima is concerned about the safety of her neck.

“Oh.” She blanches a little, “I didn’t recognize you. You… really don’t look like him.”

“Thank you.” Kirishima scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I’ll show you to his office. He’s in today.”

“Thank you so much.”

She gives him a look and he can see her mouth ‘holy fuck.’ He genuinely admires her ability to stay professional in this situation.

They walk up two flights of stairs and go down two hallways. It’s a very big agency.

They stop in front of a closed door, “He’s just right through there, you can just knock.”

Kirishima raises his fist to knock, but turns to thank the woman one last time, “Thank… you.”

She’s already gone.

Kirishima knocks.

A few seconds pass, then the door swings open dramatically. “What the fuck did I tell yo—” Bakugou stops mid-shout and stares.

Kirishima sends him a small wave, “Hi. I wanted to talk to you about some things…”

“Holy fucking shit. Shitty hair, what did you do to your hair?”

“Oh, yeah. This is how I wear it in my world. I figured I could use all the distinguishing features I could get. Does it look bad?”

“No. It’s—it’s really different, which can only be good. I almost didn’t recognize you at first.”

“Oh. That’s… good.” Kirishima nods.

“Well, what the fuck do you want, Shitty Hair?” Bakugou crosses his arms.

Kirishima doesn’t bother asking why he’s being called Shitty Hair when Bakugou knows his name perfectly well. Kirishima actually appreciates the nickname.

“For one thing, I wanted to talk to you about,” Kirishima steels himself, trying to be brave, “I want to learn how to control this body’s quirk. And I want to use it to help people. And I’d really like your help.”

Bakugou steps aside and points to a chair in his office. Kirishima takes the seat.

Bakugou sits at his desk and crosses his arms again, leaning back in the chair. “Explain. I’m not a fucking charity, I don’t do shit just ‘cause”

“Well. I hate that this body I’m in is me, but also not me and that it’s been made to do some of the worst things I could ever imagine. I want to make up for it.”

Bakugou raises his eyebrows, he can tell that isn’t everything. Kirishima is in awe of how perceptive he is.

“And. I’ve always wanted to help people.”

“In my own world, I’ve always strived to help people. But… I wasn’t good enough. A month before I came here I was out with my friend Tetsutetsu. We were just out shopping. And then I went off to grab something. When I came back, someone had a gun on Tetsutetsu.”

“This guy was trying to rob the store I guess. And then I wanted to step between him and Tetsutetsu, to de-escalate the situation, but he just—” Kirishima realizes, as his voice breaks, that he’s crying, “He just shot him. And he grabbed whatever he wanted.”

“I was too slow. I was too weak. And Tetsutetsu was hurt really badly. He got rushed to the hospital, but he still hasn’t woken up. At least not since I got brought here.”

Kirishima raises his hands to wipe at his eyes, “And fuck. Now I have this power. And even though it was used to do some awful shit, I just want to make a difference.”

Kirishima is still wiping at his eyes when Bakugou responds, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“What?”

“Is that the shit you’ve been feeling bad about since you got here? There’s nothing you could have done. Taking responsibility is all well and good. But do it when it’s necessary. Not just so you can wallow in your self-pity.”

It takes Kirishima a moment, but he registers Bakugou’s words as what they are. They’re a kind of comfort. Bakugou is trying to tell him it’s not his fault.

“But, fine. I’ll train you.”

The next day Kirishima is dressed and ready at 6 AM. Just as he and Bakugou had discussed. Hair spiked. Wearing whatever he had found in the closet.

It was time to start making some wrongs right.

Bakugou knocks on the door at exactly 6:01. Kirishima hops up and opens the door, feeling a smile bloom on his face, “I’m ready!”

Bakugou stares at him for a second, “Then let’s go.”

They walk about 4 miles to a large, but worn-down gym. It looks entirely abandoned. The handles to the front door look rusted and unused. Bakugou kicks the door open with no regard for the deteriorated exterior of the building.

“So. You know pretty much jackshit about quirks.”

“That is correct, yes.”

“Well, I could start by explaining quirk theory and—”

“Yeah that’s not going to really help me.”

Bakugou groans dramatically. Kirishima starts to understand that Bakugou is quite the drama queen.

“Look, man, I’m just more of a hands-on learner.”

Bakugou takes a sudden swing at Kirishima, which he manages to dodge at the last second.

“That hands-on enough for you?”

“You know that’s not what I meant, but yeah. It is.”

“You have decent reflexes.”

“I mean I am trained in like 3 different martial arts. Even though I haven’t been able to practice these days…”

“Then why the fuck didn’t we start there?”

Kirishima laughs a little, “Because I thought we were training for quirk stuff!”

Bakugou glares at him, “You, Shitty Hair, are a dumbass.”

“Probably.”

Bakugou sits down cross-legged on the dusty gym mat underneath him. Kirishima follows suit.

“Your quirk is called hardening. Mine is obviously explosions.” Bakugou makes a few small sparks as a demonstration.

“Your quirk is cool as fuck dude.”

“I know,” Bakugou smirks. “Has your quirk activated at all yet?”

“Once. I think I made it go away though? That’s good right?”

“Not bad. It’s somewhere to start.” Bakugou nods, and Kirishima enjoys the small compliment.

Bakugou makes him activate and deactivate his quirk repeatedly. The first time, he can see Bakugou flinch a little. But the more he does it, the less Bakugou reacts. It almost feels like it’s training for Bakugou as much as it is for Kirishima.

Eventually, Kirishima feels like he’s gotten a decent grip on the quirk. It feels so strange, but also invigorating. He wants to test it out for real.

“Can we try to fight maybe?” Kirishima asks.

“You can try to not fall on your ass within a minute.” Bakugou says, standing up.

Kirishima pushes himself up as well and gets into a fighting stance, activating his hardening.

Bakugou lifts up his arm and sends a powerful blast towards Kirishima. Which blasts Kirishima completely on his ass.

The smoke clears and Kirishima can see Bakugou grinning victoriously, “Looks like you’ll have to try a little harder.”

Bakugou’s smile is new to Kirishima. It’s… nice.

He doesn’t realize that he’s gawking until Bakugou comes over and kicks him in the leg, “Get up, idiot.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“That was a decent sized blast, but I’ll go easier on you from now on.”

Kirishima is annoyed at himself for needing Bakugou to go easy on him. Which even he knows is stupid when Bakugou has been training for years and Kirishima hasn’t even had a day. “Thanks.”

Bakugou goes in for an attack again, but this time it’s more like sparring that Kirishima is used to with a hint of quirks on the side. It’s obvious that Bakugou is pulling his punches, but Kirishima can feel himself getting used to the motions.

After a few more rounds of Bakugou beating Kirishima, they stop.

“That was pretty good for a first day,” Bakugou says.

Kirishima, still breathing heavily, just nods.

“I can’t train you every day, obviously. I have shit to do.”

“Oh.” Kirishima should have known, that Bakugou was a busy man. He couldn’t waste all his time training the person inhabiting the body of a villain he had put in prison.

“We can do this once a week. But while I’m busy, I called in a few favors with other heroes.”

That surprises Kirishima, “Oh! You didn’t have to do all that. But, thank you. Really.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Bakugou doesn’t seem to want to accept Kirishima’s thanks. Which is fine.

“You can come here whenever you want, by the way,” Bakugou mentions. “I own the building, and no one comes here.”

The two of them start to walk back to Kirishima’s apartment, “I don’t.” Kirishima wants to articulate what he’s saying properly, “I don’t deserve everything you’ve done for me.”

“Stop—”

“Wait. Just let me say it. I’m currently in the body of the worst person imaginable. I don’t even want to begin to think of what he’s done to you. And for you to trust me, for you to risk so much for me. It’s too much.”

“I want a way to give back. I need to do more to make up for all the time and energy I’m taking up.”

“Isn’t that why you wanted to train and shit?” Bakugou sounds exasperated.

“Yes, but—” Kirishima tries to talk.

“My turn. Yeah this is a really fucked up situation. Blood Riot did some unthinkable things, some of them targeting me. But you’re not responsible for any of that. And you didn’t ask to be here. You want to be home. Just keep being a good person.”

“Okay.” Kirishima can’t find the words to respond.

“And if you hurt anyone, even a little, I’ll fucking end you.” Bakugou threatens him.

But Kirishima is used to the threats at this point, “I’m not going to disappoint you.”

They make it to Kirishima’s door. He hadn’t thought Bakugou would walk him all the way to his door, but he couldn’t say he really minded.

Before Bakugou leaves, he says, “Just so you know, Shitty Hair. It’s pretty damn easy to tell the difference between you and him. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

Kirishima’s heart warms at that.

Bakugou walks away, but he turns around as he’s halfway to the stairs, “But just because it’s really fucking easy for me to tell the difference between the two of you, doesn’t mean the public isn’t going to give you hell.”

Kirishima nods, “I’ll show everyone that I’m not like him. For however long I’m stuck here, I’m going to show everyone.”

Kirishima meets the other heroes who will help him train the next day.

One of them has a quirk which gives him six arms and he wears a mask over his face; his name is Shouji. The other has a quirk called “Dark Shadow,” which gives him some kind of shadow creature he can control. He also has a black bird’s head.

The man with the shadow quirk, Tokoyami, looks familiar, “Were you following me that first day I got out of prison?”

Tokoyami nods, “I was given the task to watch you for protection.”

“Whose protection?”

Tokoyami shrugs, “I believe it could have gone in either direction.”

“Well, I appreciate it.”

The more Kirishima sees of the world of quirks, the more in awe he is.

Tokoyami and Shouji are amazingly skilled, and incredibly helpful. Kirishima could tell they were uncertain about him, but he hopes by the end that they had faith in him.

He spends the next few days alternating training between Shouji and Tokoyami. The two of them start to talk more to Kirishima, and he starts to feel a little less alone.

At the end of one of their training sessions, Shouji tells him that Kirishima has grown a lot in his quirk use, and Kirishima starts to tear up.

It’s one day before he’s supposed to be training with Bakugou again, and Kirishima is excited. Training against Tokoyami and Shouji is exhilarating and fun.

But training against Bakugou had been unforgettable. And he wants to talk to Bakugou more.

Kirishima goes to the same convenience store to buy some small things, like a new toothbrush. He had broken his own while he was practicing his hardening while brushing his teeth. He’d gotten distracted by seeing his reflection in the mirror.

When he gets there, it’s the same girl at the counter. He gives her a friendly wave, and she sends him a small smile. Kirishima is happy at the progress.
As he’s paying, Kirishima says, “I wanted to apologize for probably scaring you the first time I came in here. I know I look like… him, but I’m not.”

The woman opens her mouth to respond when a shout from the door interrupts her. It’s a man with some kind of knife quirk. His hands are literally knives.

“Make one move and it’s game over. All I want is the money.”

The woman behind the register tries to slowly reach her hand for the phone. The hand is mostly out of sight, so it seems okay. But the knife quirk guy notices.

And he lunges for her.

But Kirishima won’t be too slow this time. He hardens his arms and jumps between her and the knife-man. The knives hit his hardened skin and bounce off.

The other man’s eyes widen, “Oh fuck it’s you.” And he sprints away.

Kirishima runs after him, but he gets outside the door and the man is gone.

Kirishima heads back inside, “Are you okay?”

The woman is trembling, but she nods.

Kirishima places the money for the toothbrush on the counter and starts to walk away.

“Thank you.”

That makes him freeze in his tracks.

“You saved me. Thank you.”

Kirishima turns around and says warmly, “You’re welcome.”

When he gets back to the apartment, he sits on his sofa and starts to cry.

He genuinely can’t tell if they’re happy tears or sad tears.

He’s happy. Of course he’s happy. He got to save someone. He proved he was more than a villain.

Even if Kirishima thinks it’s very strange that someone would attack a convenience store a few blocks away from a huge hero agency. The one where Ground Zero works.

But the woman at the store was honest in her thanks.

But it also just reminded him of the life he left behind. Of everything he needs to do. And that a supervillain was most likely running around in his body.

Kirishima had been pushing himself into his training for the last week, and all his emotions start pouring out into his tears.

Kirishima doesn’t know how long he’s been crying for when there’s a knock on the door. There’s really only three people it could be. He opens the door.

“Shitty Hair, I heard about—fuck. Are you crying?”

“Did I pass your test?” Kirishima wipes his tears.

“I—it wasn’t—I mean, fuck. Yeah, you did. Did you know the whole time?”

“I figured it out afterwards.”

“And is that why you’re crying…?”

Kirishima laughs, “Don’t worry, it’s not. I just, I miss home.”

“Oh.” Bakugou shuffles on his feet, “We’ve been looking but, we can’t find the way he did it. Or the way to get you back.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re doing your best.”

“Want to train with me today?” Bakugou asks.

Kirishima smiles wide, “I’d love to.”

2 weeks later, Kirishima has been training a lot with Bakugou, Tokoyami, and Shouji. If the situation wasn’t so messed up, Kirishima would have been confident in calling them his friends.

He’s gotten to know Bakugou pretty well during their training sessions. He knows that Bakugou likes spicy food. That he likes hiking.

But there’s a few things he hasn’t heard yet. One thing in particular that he really needs to know about.

After a training session, as they reach Kirishima’s apartment, Kirishima asks Bakugou to come inside. The two of them sit on the sofa and there’s a tense silence. Bakugou can tell something is up with Kirishima.

Kirishima breaks it, “Bakugou. Can I ask you something?”

“Depends.”

“You don’t have to answer. I just… what did Blood Riot do—to you specifically?”

Bakugou sighs deeply, something that even Kirishima could feel in his bones, but he doesn’t answer, looking at the floor with hollow eyes.

“Sorry, you really don’t have to say anything.”

Bakugou raises his hand to cut off Kirishima, “when I was younger, I had a rocky relationship with my parents. My mom specifically. It… wasn’t great.” His voice was dry, empty.

“We fought a lot. But—she was still my mom, you know.”

Kirishima nods, silently absorbing the story Bakugou was telling.

“My dad was quieter. He really didn’t like it when my mom and I argued, but he never got around to stopping it either.”

“My relationship with them was rough. But that’s life. I grew distant, didn’t visit much. I kept busy with hero work.”

“I didn’t really keep in touch, but one day I got a phone call from my dad. It had been a while, and I picked up. But my dad wasn’t the one who answered.”

“It was Blood Riot.”

Kirishima’s blood turns to ice. He knows. But he doesn’t interrupt Bakugou’s story.

“He taunted me. Said that he had someone there who wanted to talk to me. He puts on the phone on speaker and I can hear—” Bakugou’s voice breaks for the first time since Kirishima has known him. “I can hear my parents.”

“They—”

Kirishima puts a gentle hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, “You don’t have to.”

Bakugou shakes his head, “Before—They told me they loved me. And then the line cut.”

Kirishima’s eyes and throat sting. Holy fuck.

“I called the agency and ran to the house. I got there as fast as humanly possible.”

“And when I got there. There was a box at the front door. Labeled for me. And in it…”

“In that fucking box was—” Bakugou can’t seem to make it past that point.

But Kirishima doesn’t press. “I’m so sorry Bakugou.”

“They weren’t perfect. But that doesn’t mean I fucking wanted them to—they were still my parents.” Bakugou doesn’t start crying, but he buries his head in his hands.

Kirishima wants to burn this body. He hates being in this skin. "I wish I could do something. I'm just so fucking sorry."

Bakugou lifts his head and looks at Kirishima with red eyes, “What did I say about taking responsibility, Shitty Hair.”

“I don’t—”

“Only do it when it’s actually your fault.”

After that day, Kirishima starts to see Bakugou more often than just their weekly training sessions. Sometimes Bakugou would come over and they’d go out for dinner. Other times he’d just pop in randomly.

Kirishima had been surprised by how much he and Bakugou had in common, how well they got along. Maybe under different circumstances… Kirishima never let himself follow that train of thought all the way down the line. It was fruitless.

About 5 months after Kirishima had arrived, Bakugou arrives for training in his hero outfit. It’s the first time he’s ever done that. Before, if he had things to do, Bakugou would just call or text in advance, and they’d reschedule.

“Hey, Bakugou! Why are you in your hero clothes?”

“It’s time. You’re ready.”

“I’m ready?”

Bakugou nods, “You’re ready to be a hero.”

The thought hits Kirishima like a tidal wave crashing into him, dragging him to sea and leaving him to drown. The whole time, he’d known he was training for this.

But the future had always seemed so far. Felt so unreachable.

But now it was here.

And he definitely wasn’t ready.

“Actually, I don’t know if it’s time just yet. I think I need more training,” Kirishima tries to close the door in Bakugou’s face—which is rude and unmanly, totally not like himself. But he panics.

Bakugou catches the door with the flat of his hand and pushes it open with his hand, making Kirishima stumble back a little.

“If I say you’re ready, then you are. Stop being a chicken.”

“People will hate me. They deserve to, but it means no one will accept me,” Kirishima steps back into his apartment as Bakugou pushes his way in.

“What happened to the guy who swore he’d change all their minds?”

Bakugou was right. Kirishima knows this, but he’s just intimidated by it coming at his face.

Kirishima steels himself, taking a breath, “Right! What’s the first step?”

Turns out, Kirishima had to get an outfit. And gear. And worst of all—a name.

It felt like everything he touched was tainted by Blood Riot. Especially his name.

So Kirishima decides to deal with that last. Maybe never. Who knows.

As the other details start to come together, though, Kirishima gets excited. He doesn’t have to go through this exam that people normally have to go through; Bakugou got him out of it. Something about extremely unusual circumstances. Whatever it is, Kirishima isn’t complaining.

Tokoyami and Shouji help Kirishima along the way too. They assure him that he’s proven himself to them over and over, and he can do the same for everyone else.

One week later, Kirishima is fully set. Bakugou arranged a press conference for the announcement.

Except he still doesn’t have a name.

And now he has to talk to the press. Really for the first time since he’s been here.

He’s excited. And he might throw up. His nerves have him bouncing on the tips of his toes, filled to the brim with energy. A hand presses down on his shoulder, calming him down.

Kirishima turns to see Bakugou looking at him through the mask of his hero costume.

“Don’t worry, Kirishima. You’ve got this.” Bakugou urges Kirishima through the curtain, right in front of a microphone and hundreds of eyes. Which should make him run for the hills.

But all he can think about is that Bakugou called Kirishima by his real name for the first time.

Like he’d finally earned his name back.

The crowd is nearly silent; only a few chatters and the clicking of cameras can be heard. Kirishima has their undivided attention.

“I know you all probably know this already, but… My name is Kirishima Eijirou. Except not the same Kirishima Eijirou you all knew as Blood Riot. It seems impossible, or at least it did to me. This whole world seems impossible to me.”

“But that doesn’t matter. The details aren’t really what’s important. What matters is that the body I’m in has done a lot of horrible things to everyone. Unforgivable things. And—” Kirishima pauses. He closes his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart.

“It isn’t much. I don’t have much here, in this universe. But I have my actions. Starting from today, I will do everything in my power to make up for the things that Blood Riot has done. I’m not saying you have to trust me right away—or ever, but I’d like to ask for a chance.”

“If it’s okay, I’d like a chance to show that I’m different from him. A chance to be a hero.”

The crowd breaks their relative quiet and bursts into questions. But Kirishima can’t hear any of them. The blood is rushing in his ears. He did it.

Bakugou comes to stand beside him, giving him a half-smile. Which, to Kirishima, is better than the biggest grin on anyone else.

“Alright fuckers, calm down. He can only take one question at a time.” Somehow, Bakugou commands the audience with such ease. He points to a reporter at the front.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“I’ve been training with Ground Zero for a while now, so I guess since that started.” Kirishima points to another reporter, hoping his answer was good enough.

“How exactly do you intend on making up for Blood Riot’s atrocities?”

“I don’t have anything exact. But I’ll try to save as many lives as I can. Use the powers I have for good,” Kirishima nods resolutely.

Bakugou leans towards the mic, “Just to be real fucking clear, he doesn’t have to do any of this shit. He’s his own person, he didn’t do anything wrong. The fact that he’s trying to do any of this at all—that means he’s already a hero.”

Kirishima thinks his heart might burst. That’s not just the nicest thing Bakugou has ever said about him, it’s the best thing anyone has said about him. He just wants to throw his arms around Bakugou and squeeze him into a hug.

But they’re both professionals. So he won’t.

He’s not even sure Bakugou would be comfortable with that much contact yet. So he won’t.

Bakugou gestures for another question.

“If you’re going to be a hero, what will your hero name be?”

Kirishima freezes and looks at Bakugou, who just tilts his head towards the crowd, “This one’s all you.”

Kirishima doesn’t want to deny the past. But he wants to move forward. And he wants to be himself. More than anything.

“You can call me… Red Riot.”

The crowd starts yelling things, but he isn’t listening.

He turns to Bakugou, hoping for his approval.

Bakugou faces Kirishima and—And he’s smiling for real. A big wide smile. Directed straight at Kirishima.

Kirishima feels his heart melt. He can’t deny it now.

Fuck.

He’s in love with Bakugou.

Kirishima isn’t sure what he’d expected from the public when he announced his decision to be a hero. A lot of people don’t trust him. Which he understands. But quite a few people were… supporting him?

Which he really hadn’t expected.

It’s nice.

Being a hero also means a lot more paperwork than he’d expected. Bakugou helps him with the paperwork, but it’s confusing. All he’s done so far is stop a few minor crimes. One mugging. There was a jewel heist that was fairly interesting.

And it’s good! He likes helping people. He’ll take the little victories.

One of the not-so-good things of putting himself in the limelight as a hero are the rumors. He sees at least one new article a week about how he’d secretly committing crime on the side.

He really hates those because they always drag Bakugou’s name through the mud. Calling Ground Zero an idiot for letting a known criminal out.

But as the weeks go by, people start to come around. Sort of.

He still doesn’t know if he’s doing enough to make up for everything. He wants to make more of a statement to the people that Blood Riot had hurt. Even if he really does not want to do another press conference.

Instead he asks Bakugou to set up a room with recording equipment and a list of Blood Riot’s victims and their families.

It’s a very long list. And Kirishima records a very long video. Apologizing to each person individually. The agency posts the video.

Kirishima starts to get to work on more high profile cases with Bakugou. Tokoyami and Shouji team up with them every once in a while. And the public opinion starts to turn. Which is really exciting!

Then one day, Bakugou knocks on his door. It’s a Saturday, which normally means Bakugou sleeps in until noon. But it’s 7 in the morning.

“What’s up?”

Bakugou looks uncharacteristically uncertain, “The police called me. Since long before you ever showed up, they’ve been looking for Blood Riot’s base. His home.”

Kirishima nods, letting Bakugou continue.

“They found it. And they’re letting us tag along to see if we can find anything that’ll help you.”

“Help me?”

“Help you find what brought you here. How to get you… home.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s good. It’s great!”

After getting dressed, Kirishima follows Bakugou to a small building that would have seemed pretty inconspicuous if not for the police cars swarming around it.

Tokoyami and Shouji are waiting outside the building for them. Kirishima feels oddly nervous. This could be it. He could finally go home.

So why was there a pit at the bottom of his stomach?

The police have already started to look around inside. But it seems weirdly…

Normal.

Nothing looks out of the ordinary.

There are no drawings in blood on the walls. No pictures of trophies.

Just a blanket on the sofa. And everything is so neat.

A police officer approaches Bakugou, “Ground Zero, we have swept the premises and haven’t found anything, but we thought we would let you heroes try.”

Tokoyami has already begun to look around with the help of Dark Shadow. Shouji has several eyes and ears peeled. If there was anything to find, Kirishima was sure that they would be able to find it.

Bakugou gestures to Kirishima, “Let’s find a way to get you home.”

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

They look for hours. Kirishima upends every couch cushion, every paper.

And nothing. They find nothing. Nothing to show how Blood Riot switched minds. Not. A. Thing.

So eventually, they decide that it’s fruitless. That he hadn’t left any clues there. He either destroyed all evidence or kept it elsewhere.

Shouji puts one hand on Kirishima’s shoulder, “We’ll figure something out. Don’t worry Kirishima, you won’t be trapped here forever.”

Tokoyami and Dark Shadow nod, “Indeed. Your circumstances are not eternal.”

Kirishima smiles at them, “Thanks guys, I appreciate everything. Sorry to waste your time.”

“It’s never a waste of time to help a friend,” Shouji says.

The four of them eat lunch together before Tokoyami and Shouji have to go back to do more work. Kirishima and Bakugou both have the day off, so they say good-bye to the other two.

Bakugou and Kirishima walk together back to Kirishima’s door, discussing plans for dinner and the following day.

“You know,” Kirishima says, “You don’t have to walk me to my place every time. I know you want to go back to sleep for a while. You could have just gone straight home.”

Bakugou snorts, “You never realized, huh.”

That makes Kirishima frown in confusion, “Realized what?”

“Well. I wanted to keep an eye on you for a while.”

“So…?”

“So. I made sure you were near me.”

Kirishima still doesn’t get it.

“I live in the apartment right above yours, idiot,” Bakugou flicks Kirishima’s forehead, “I can’t believe you never noticed.”

Kirishima starts to laugh, “Oh my god, I’m so dumb.”

“That’s the thing,” Bakugou shakes his head, “You’re not dumb. You’re just selectively observant. You don’t always see the obvious things right in front of your face.”

Kirishima gives Bakugou a wide grin, “Thanks.”

“Don’t let it get to your head. Now I have to sleep, I’ll see you later,” Bakugou turns to walk up the stairs.

“Bye, neighbor!” Kirishima hears Bakugou laugh in the stairwell.

Kirishima can’t stop the fond smile that stays on his face as he closes his door.

Kirishima lays on his bed staring at the ceiling. A small chuckle escapes him as he thinks about how Bakugou is literally right above him.

But his happiness cuts off abruptly as he realizes what happened today. They didn’t find him a way home. He’d be here for the foreseeable future.

And that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was that part of him was happy.

Because despite the seriously fucked up nature of everything that happened to him here. Despite everything.

It was like a fairy tale. A dream.

He had powers. He got to save people. People saw him—he was important. He meant something in this world.

And here, there was Bakugou.

Even if Kirishima would never try anything with Bakugou for so many different reasons. Because that would be completely messed up. Because Bakugou would probably never be comfortable with that. Or want that.

What kind of fucking awful person was he? To have any part of himself want to stay in this world.

A world without his moms. A world without his friends. All the people he left behind. And the way he left them.

At the end of the day, when Kirishima tries to go to sleep, he can’t sleep at all. Feeling himself be divided between two worlds.

Months pass as Kirishima lives in a cycle.

He saves people and he’s a hero. He spends time with Bakugou. He’s as close to content as possible.

Then he remembers. He remembers that this isn’t his world. And it’ll never be his world. And Bakugou would never be his Bakugou. And he feels so guilty.

But then he gets caught up in being a hero. In Bakugou. And he forgets everything else when he looks into Bakugou’s eyes. Or hears Bakugou’s laugh.

And he can’t live with himself for enjoying anything when Blood Riot is running around in his body. Instead of in this world and in prison where he belongs.

One day, Kirishima looks at the calendar and realizes that it’s mother’s day.

He eats breakfast with Bakugou and then asks for the day to himself. Bakugou understands. Of course, he does.

And Kirishima decides to do something that might be stupid. Definitely a waste of time and energy.

He goes to Blood Riot’s house.

Maybe it’s the guilt that drives him there. Whatever it is brings Kirishima to the front door.

There’s still police tape all around the front, but Kirishima ducks under it and goes inside.

Somehow, it feels different. There’s a buzz of energy underneath it all.

Once he closes the door, he hears something whirring. And a—a click? Kirishima steps further into the house and sees a whole new room that absolutely was not there before.

How had they all missed this? Why was it appearing now?

The room was just as organized as the rest of the house, but this was something different. This was Blood Riot’s planning room.

It had charts and schematics and notes—and holy shit.

If Blood Riot hadn’t wanted to instill fear in everyone’s hearts, if he didn’t want to be a terror to society with his name and face. Kirishima doesn’t think he would have ever been caught.

Kirishima studies everything for a while in horror and disgust. Until he reads one set of notes next to something that looks like a small button.

The notes talk about manipulating someone for their quirk. Kirishima remembers the victim from the list of people Blood Riot had killed.

And this was how Blood Riot switched with Kirishima. Kirishima scans the details and he’s shocked at how thorough the plan was. Every detail was calculated for. A precaution in the case of being captured.

A backup device. Getting it into the prison. How to activate it subtly.

All you had to do was ingest the device and it would activate. Blood Riot could have easily put it into his food one day and then—

Fuck. Shit.

With this staring him in the face, Kirishima knew what he had to do. He couldn’t allow himself the selfishness of staying here anymore.

He makes a plan of his own.

Kirishima goes to the prison where he had first woken up and does two things.

First, he gets a pair of quirk-canceling handcuffs. Second, he goes to the guard he had first interacted with when he’d gotten here. The first person to see him as a person—other than Bakugou.

He asks the guard to give Ground Zero a note the next day. The guard looks a little puzzled, but he agrees.

Next, Kirishima goes to a warehouse where he recalls the thieves had planned the jewel heist. One of his original victories as a hero.

It makes sense that it should be where he has his last stand.

He starts to put the handcuffs on—it’s hard because his vision starts to blur with tears—when there’s a loud boom in the corner of the warehouse.

An explosion.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” The shout echoes in the empty warehouse.

Bakugou storms up to Kirishima looking just as angry as the first day Kirishima ever met him, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m—I have to go. I found out how he did it. I think I got in because I was alone and now I have to—”

Bakugou looks angry, and he looks frustrated, “You—,” Bakugou stops in the middle of whatever he was going to say. His voice drops to something small, which cuts Kirishima to his core, “You were going to leave without saying good-bye?”

Kirishima’s tears flow freely now, “I left you a note. I—”

“A note? After everything. You left me a note?”

“I couldn’t—Bakugou, I couldn’t do it. I have to do this, but I couldn’t—”

“You don’t have the decency to face me? I have to find out that you’re breaking into a crime scene. Then I have to follow you to prison. And then here?” Bakugou’s anger seems to drain out of him as he speaks.

Kirishima has grown so much since being here, but he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to do this.

His throat starts to close up, “You have to know, I—.” Kirishima looks down at his hands. He snaps the handcuffs close.

Then he takes a step towards Bakugou, closing the distance between them. He raises his hands and lets them hover near Bakugou’s face.

“You have to let me say this. Just once.”

Bakugou’s eyes look red.

“Thank you for everything. For showing me that I’m stronger than I think I am. For teaching me about taking responsibility the right way. For being the light that took me out of the darkest place I’ve ever been in. For trusting me when I didn’t trust myself. You changed my life.”

“For showing me that I can be a hero.”

Bakugou is crying for the first time that Kirishima has ever seen. Bakugou takes Kirishima’s hands from the air and presses them onto his cheeks. Then he puts his forehead on Kirishima’s, “This isn’t fucking fair. Everyone always leaves me.”

Kirishima’s heart breaks even more than he ever knew was possible.

“I wish that I could ask you to stay,” Bakugou whispers.

“I wish that I could say yes.”

“What’s the point of being a hero, of all the fame and glory and shit if I just end up miserable and alone at the end of it all anyway?”

Kirishima closes his eyes and gives himself a few more seconds of being there. Just being there with Bakugou. “I’m sorry.”

“Bakugou, you know I—,” but Kirishima can’t seem to finish the sentence.

He feels Bakugou nod gently, “Yeah, I do. And I—me too.”

It’s too much.

Kirishima takes his hands from Bakugou’s face and then takes a few steps back.

“I’m really going to miss you so much, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Bakugou balls his hands into fists, “There has to be something. I’ll find a way.”

Kirishima gives Bakugou one last, sad smile, “You’re the smartest, most amazing person I’ve ever known. But you don’t have to. You’ve already given me enough love for a hundred lifetimes.”

Then Kirishima takes the small device, and swallows it, before he can lose his resolve. He closes his eyes.

And when he opens his eyes again.

He’s on his couch at home.

Chapter Text

Bakugou is doing paperwork in his office when his phone rings.

With a sigh, he answers it. It’s the prison. Apparently Blood Riot is acting up again.

Fuck.

Bakugou has to drop all his work to make his way to the prison. For the third time since he had defeated Blood Riot. He was always making some kind of scene, dragging Bakugou down to the prison.

They always called him because he was Ground Zero. The hero who caught Blood Riot.

Like that somehow made it his fucking responsibility. Even behind bars, Blood Riot was torturing him.

When he got to the prison, a guard approached him, “Prisoner 0753 was acting very strangely today. Different from the usual strange.”

“You can say his name, you know. Kirishima. Blood Riot,” Bakugou rolls his eyes.

“Right. Well, we have him in interrogation room 4. You can go in when you want.”

Bakugou nods, squaring his shoulders. And he pushes the door to the room open.

Bakugou isn’t about to let this fucker toy with him, “What the fuck are you playing at?” He slams his hands on the table, hoping to get his point across. He wasn’t taking shit from him.

But he just receives a silence in response. Bakugou couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t deal with this; he deserves more than to be a glorified babysitter for the person who—“I’m supposed to be done with you!”

Bakugou looks him in the eye and Blood Riot opens his mouth for the first time, but what he says doesn’t make sense.

He croaks out a broken, “I’m sorry.”

More than anything else, that makes Bakugou’s skin crawl. Kirishima Eijirou has mocked Bakugou. Taunted him. Hell, he’d even flirted with Bakugou before.

But never. Never. Had Blood Riot apologized to Bakugou. Let his voice break. Sound weak.

Not one damn time.

It doesn’t matter that the man in front of him is wearing power suppressing handcuffs. Bakugou picks him up by the clothes and throws him against the wall, his blood boiling under his skin, “Who the fuck are you?” He activates his power to threaten him.

Because whoever the hell that was in front of him staring in shock at his quirk couldn’t be Blood Riot.

And all the asshole in front of him just says, “I’m… me.” Like that’s a fucking answer.

“What’s your name?” Bakugou needs to make sure that this is just another trick. Because if it’s just a trick, it means that he’s here. But if he somehow got out—what if he got someone with a shape-shift quirk to take his place or—

“Uh… Kirishima Eijirou.”

But the name wasn’t enough. Everyone knew his name, “You don’t sound very sure about that.” He needed more. These games were going too far.

The response is more certain, delivered with confidence. Something close to a glare. But it doesn’t come close to any look Bakugou had received from the real Blood Riot. And makes Bakugou fucking pissed.

He goes in closer, staring the man in front of him dead in the eyes. And the body—the exterior— looked like Kirishima Eijirou, but he didn’t know who it really was. “I don’t think so. I know Kirishima Eijirou. And you’re no Blood Riot. Where is the real Blood Riot?”

And before he can hear any lies, Bakugou makes sure to emphasize his anger, “Don’t lie this time.” He lets the heat from his hands get dangerously close to the man’s face.

“I don’t know! I don’t know, okay!”

It’s more of an answer, but also less. “Explain.” Bakugou’s mind is racing trying to find the truth. To find out what the fuck is going on.

“I don’t know what’s going on! I just woke up here, in a prison cell! I’m me, but I’m also not me. You want the truth—I have no fucking idea who or what I am.”

And Bakugou has heard enough. Enough to be sure that something was wrong. Some way. Somehow. Blood Riot did it to him one more time.

Bakugou got outmaneuvered one more time. Motherfucking shit.

He drops the person standing petrified in his grip and Bakugou storms out the door.

But not before he glances back at the person sitting on the floor behind him one last time.

What the fuck is he supposed to do?

Bakugou returns to his office and tries very hard not to blow everything in there to fucking smithereens. He feels angry.

And he feels like an idiot. He isn’t sure what to believe.

He makes a valiant attempt that first day to focus on work. But how the hell is he supposed to focus when Blood Riot is on the fucking loose? Not to mention how to deal with whoever was sitting in that prison cell.

Bakugou ends up going to sleep by 6 PM.

The next morning Bakugou goes to the agency and thinks about what to do next. Even if he hated to admit it, he needed help.

He asks two heroes he trusts to come into the office.

“You don’t often call upon others for advice,” Tokoyami notes.

“Just shut up and listen.”

As he breaks down the situation, he can see their disbelief and confusion. Worst of all, he can tell they’re worried.

Luckily, they know him well enough to not try saying anything.

Once he’s done, they take a moment to process it all.

“Well. What do you think?” Bakugou asks impatiently. He didn’t call them there to stare uselessly into space.

Shouji creates a mouth, “I think the first step should be to confirm the story.”

“I already looked through all the camera feeds, there’s no signs of what happened. One day he’s acting normal, the next day he wakes up hitting himself and throwing up.”

“And apologizing,” Shouji adds.

“Yes, that’s what I fucking said.”

“Have you considered an alternative method of confirming the story of the imprisoned person to be the truth?” Tokoyami asks.

“Be specific,” Bakugou is irritated, because he’s sure that if his mind was calmer, he probably would have thought of a better solution. But his brain was too busy freaking the fuck out.

Which was annoying as shit.

Bakugou was supposed to be a calm and calculating hero. One that people could count on when shit hit the fan.

But all that just went to shit when it came to Blood Riot.

“There are lots of quirks out there. Maybe someone has something that could help you.”

Shouji’s suggestion reminds Baukgou of something. Of someone.

“For example—” Tokoyami starts, but Bakugou cuts him off.

“I got it now.”

The two of them exchange looks and nod, taking that as their cue to exit.

Before Bakugou can slam the door shut, Shouji catches it in one of his hands, “We know you don’t like getting help, but we’re glad you called us. You know you can always ask us.”

Tokoyami nods solemnly, “It is our honor to help such a worthy friend. Especially in trying times such as these.”

Bakugou gives them a sharp head movement in acknowledgement. He can’t manage more than a gruff, “Sure.”

But it’s enough for them, and the two leave.

He picks up his phone, making a conscious effort to not crush it. His secretary had chewed him out for exploding his last 3 phones.

He calls his contact in the police force.

“Do you still have the one interrogative assistant?
Yeah that one.
Tell her to be at the prison tomorrow morning.
Yes, that prison.
Fine, the day after tomorrow works—the sooner the better.”

He hangs up and throws the phone against his wall. He’ll have to tell the secretary to order a new one.

The day of waiting to go confront ex-Blood Riot was completely excruciating. Every second that Bakugou had to endure set each individual cell in his body on fire.

He needs answers.

So when the next day arrives, he’s ready. He has questions to ask.

At the prison, he meets the woman with the quirk “lie-detector.” Fucking useful. Especially to Bakugou right now.

He gives her a small warning talk. He tells her exactly who they were dealing with—or who they weren’t dealing with. She was petrified.

Bakugou assures her that he would never let anything happen to her because of this. He isn’t sure if it works. But she’s on board, so they go in. To talk to whoever was sitting in the cell.

Bakugou takes a seat across from the body of Blood Riot, “Are you ready to talk today?”

For Bakugou, that isn’t really question, it’s a command. But he says it like a question anyway.

““I’ll answer any of your questions—if you answer some of mine.” This isn’t a reverse interrogation.

But still, Bakugou has the power here; he doesn’t have to answer anything he doesn’t want to. And letting the body snatcher ask a few questions might make them more likely to properly answer his questions.

So Bakugou agrees.

Bakugou gestures behind himself, “But you have to be completely honest. Her quirk is to detect biological signs of lying and brain signals. She’ll know if you’re lying or not.”

The person closes their eyes—Blood Riot’s eyes. Bakugou isn’t sure why.

Whatever is going on in their head, they make a decision, “I’ll be honest, I swear.”

With that confirmation, Bakugou is ready for the truth.

“We’ll see about that,” Bakugou responds, “I’ll go first. What’s your name?”

“Kirishima Eijirou.”

So he was claiming his name was actually Kirishima Eijirou. For whatever fucked up reason. But if his name is really that, then Bakugou isn’t sure what that meant.

He turns to look at the woman the lie detector quirk, hoping she’d give him some indication that this was all some bullshit.

But she just nods. So it was the truth. Somehow.

Bakugou starts to ask another question, trying to see if this was a weird coincidence, or if Blood Riot chose someone of the same name to take his place. Or if this person was brainwashed.

To his surprise, ‘Kirishima Eijirou’ interrupts him, “it’s my turn. What’s your name?”

It’s a dumb question, Bakugou thinks. His name has been broadcasted and displayed thousands of times, “Bakugou Katsuki. I’m only telling you that because it’s common knowledge.”

Bakugou dives right back into his own line of questioning, “Where are you from? When were you born?”

Before answering, ‘Kirishima’ remarks that it’s “more than one question,” But Bakugou gets his answers.

The place of birth and time of birth are the same, and so is the hometown. But Bakugou notices that there are a few small differences in the details.

And human-lie-detector confirms that everything said so far has been the truth. Which makes Bakugou think he has no fucking idea what’s going on.

Or any idea he has is completely stupid.

‘Kirishima’ takes Bakugou’s pause as a chance to ask his own questions, “What is ‘quirk?’ Does that have something to do with the powers?”

That makes Bakugou’s train of thought halt completely in his brain. This guy couldn’t be serious. But why would he waste a perfectly good chance to ask a question on that.

“You’re lucky this shit’s also common knowledge. Shit you should definitely already know.”

Bakugou explains what he can, going into extra detail just so he can watch how ‘Kirishima’s’ expression changes with each new bit of information.

And as Bakugou gets more and more information, he starts to form a really stupid idea. But fuck if it’s one of the only explanations that makes sense.

And every question that ‘Kirishima’ asks is just common knowledge information about their world.

Eventually, Bakugou turns to the woman behind him and looks her in the eye, “What’s your assessment about all of this?”

She twists her hands together, but she steps forward, coming to stand next to Bakugou. And he can tell that she sees ‘Kirishima’ a little differently than she had before.

“He hasn’t lied once today. He’s nervous, but he’s been entirely honest,” she says. But Bakugou knows that.

He knows there has to be something else, “There’s more isn’t there.”

“Yes.”

Bakugou’s stomach drops in anticipation.

“I studied the scans of Blood Riot’s brain right after he was captured. And the man sitting in front of you… his brain is completely different. He might look the same on the outside, but other than the exterior... he’s a wholly new individual.”

That isn’t really new information to Bakugou, just a confirmation of what he already knew. What Bakugou really needs to know is how to deal with the person in front of him.

“So he’s a different person. Doesn’t tell me if he’s good or not. Or if he’s somehow working with the other Kirishima Eijirou.” Bakugou yanks ‘Kirishima’s’ shirt forward, making sure that the man knows that he has to be especially honest now.

The lady tells Bakugou he has to ask ‘yes or no’ questions. Which he already knew, but he didn’t bother responding to her, “I get to ask all the questions now.” He doesn’t want any interruptions.

“One: Do you think you’re a good person?”

The question catches ‘Kirishima’ off-guard. “I don’t know.”

“Yes or no.”

‘Kirishima’ stumbles over his answer, but he says no. Which doesn’t necessarily mean this person is actually a bad person. But it’s a start.

From there, Bakugou asks a string of questions about past crimes committed, which ‘Kirishima’ answers a firm and fast ‘no’ to each of them.

Hoping to surprise ‘Kirishima’ Bakugou switches things up at the end, “Have you ever been in contact with the other Kirishima Eijirou, also known as Blood Riot?”

“No.”

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

It definitely startles him, but he doesn’t have an answer. Just a garbled mess. It doesn’t matter; Bakugou already has his assessment. It’s clear that this person was clearly not a criminal. Probably not a remotely bad person.

Which meant a lot more work for Bakugou. “I’m done. Did he lie once? Even a little bit?”

The response is negative. So he lets the lie-detector leave. She did her job.

He turns to leave too when he hears ‘Kirishima’ say “Wait!”

All Bakugou wants is to go home, fall asleep, and awaken from this fucking nightmare, “What?”

“I need to know. This other Kirishima Eijirou. Blood Riot. What did he do? Why do you hate him so much? Why is so everyone scared of him—of me?”

Even with his back turned, Bakugou can hear the desperation in ‘Kirishima’s’ voice. He glances back and feels a little pity hit him for the man staring hopelessly across the table. It probably isn’t his fault he’s in this situation.

But that doesn’t help Bakugou.

When he gets back to the agency, he stops to talk to his secretary first, “Send a list of Blood Riot’s crimes to the prison. Get it to the prison guards, I already told them I’d be sending it soon.”

She nods, and Bakugou goes to his office. Blood Riot beat him one more fucking time.

He sits down at his desk, staring at the pile of paperwork that has begun to build up since this shit had started.

That night he manages to make two phone calls before he can’t take it anymore and explodes his phone.

Apparently this process has “never been done before,” and “getting a serial killer out of prison because he’s been mind-swapped” isn’t in the fucking computer system.

Bakugou goes to the prison the next morning. When he slams the door to the interrogation room open for what feels like the hundredth time in the past week, he sees ‘Kirishima’ with his head down on the table.

As Bakugou sits in the seat, ‘Kirishima’ lifts his head. “I have a theory. About what’s going on here,” Bakugou says, “but I want you to tell me what you think is going on first.” Bakugou is already confident in his theory, but he’s curious to know if ‘Kirishima’ figured it out.

Instead of getting a response to his question, ‘Kirishima’ just shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m not going to fight. I’ll stay here without any fuss, you don’t have to worry. You can be well and truly done with me like you wanted.”

What a fucking idiot. “Fine. I’ll go first.”

Bakugou explains what he thinks happened. About the absolutely fucking ridiculous alternate universe theory that is as dumb as shit but also the only thing that makes any sense.

And ‘Kirishima’ agrees with him. Which at least means Bakugou isn’t out of his fucking mind. Probably.

But ‘Kirishima’ is also a big fucking idiot. Thinking he needs to stay in the prison for some reason, “Only someone with a bleeding heart would say that they deserve to be in a cell for crimes they didn’t commit.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done in my world.”

“I do, actually. You fucking told me yesterday. Whatever you’re feeling guilty about is your problem, but no reason to stay here and take up space.”

Then Kirishima asks the one thing that Bakugou wants to never think about again and can’t stop thinking about, “What about Blood Riot? Do you think he’s—that he’s in my body?”

Bakugou nods, “That fucker somehow managed to get out of prison. No wonder he looked so fucking smug when I brought him in.” His skin crawls just thinking about it all. “He had a contingency plan.”

“What if he comes back into his own body and you’ve let me out?”

“I doubt he plans on coming back soon, but we’re going to try to find a way to put him back in his own body—and get you back to yours.”

Bakugou tells Kirishima a few more details before leaving, going to his training gym, and exploding things for 2 hours.

Paperwork for the situation is a fucking nuisance. For a whole week all Bakugou and his secretary do is make calls and file information.

But then it’s done. He arranges for a press conference so he can say what he has to before the media goes apeshit.

Bakugou goes to the prison for the press conference. He waits outside a door until he hears a knock and out comes ‘Kirishima.’ It’s the first time he’s seen that body dressed in anything other than a villain outfit or prison clothes.

It helps Bakugou’s brain adjust to what the fuck he’s about to do. “You ready?” he asks. But he isn’t sure if he’s ready himself. “You’re going to have to be.” He says, walking to meet the press.

Whether he’s telling ‘Kirishima’ or himself, he isn’t sure.

Bakugou goes up to the podium first, keeping ‘Kirishima’ out of sight for the time being.

“If you heard rumors that we were releasing Kirishima Eijirou, also known as Blood Riot, today, you’d be right.”

A loud burst of questions interrupts him.

“Before you ask dumb shit, let me explain. As of 12 days ago, the real Blood Riot managed to escape captivity. He did this by switching his consciousness with that of another Kirishima Eijirou from an entirely different universe.”

He can barely get a word in between the assholes trying to ask questions.

“If you all would just shut the fuck up and let me talk, you might find some of your questions answered.”

“I personally conducted interviews and had experts involved in the situation. It was clear that this was not Blood Riot any longer, but someone else. This person had committed no crimes and justice called for his release.”

“I will oversee this all myself. You all know that I am the last person who would ever want Blood Riot back on the streets, or anyone else to get hurt because of him. But I am sure that this new person won’t do anything like that.”

Bakugou knows it’s a strong promise to make, but he’d be damned if he let anyone with that face ever hurt another soul, even a little.

“The public, all civilians, will be safe. There’s no need to worry. We will be working our hardest to find the inter-dimensional tools Blood Riot used to escape, and to help this version of Kirishima Eijirou back to his home. That’s all for now.”

Bakugou doesn’t want to answer any questions. He’s so drained from everything. “Direct all other questions to my agency.” He isn’t sure where all his energy has gone.

Walking with ‘Kirishima’ to the car is a blur. He knows that the people are reacting, but he can’t see anyone. His mind is racing. The moment is surreal.

He just fucking let Blood Riot out of prison.

He sits in the car and doesn’t say a word for the whole car ride.

His brain gets even more confused when ‘Kirishima’ says thank you in the car. Not sarcastically or threateningly or some bullshit. Meaningfully.

The car stops at Bakugou’s apartment complex. Where he’d set up a place for ‘Kirishima.’ Maybe it was paranoia, but Bakugou needed to be able to keep an eye on Blood Riot’s body at all times.

Even if he had already asked for help in surveillance.

The two of them walk up to the second floor, right below Bakugou’s apartment. “This is where you’ll be staying.”

Bakugou hands ‘Kirishima’ the keys. Then he cuts him off as he shoves him against the wall. Don’t think that just because I said what I said I won’t be watching your every move. If you make even one wrong move, one little fucking slip up, you’ll have to deal with me. Understood?”

‘Kirishima’ nods.

It’s enough for Bakugou for now. But as Bakugou’s walking away, ‘Kirishima’ finds his words.

“I’ll prove myself to you. You won’t regret what you’ve done. I’ll show you that you can trust me. I don’t want to be him.”

It’s an interesting statement. And one that Bakugou really hopes is true. He goes down the stairs, pretending to leave.

Then he quietly creeps back up the stairs and watches in secret as ‘Kirishima’ sighs and enters the apartment.

The door closes and Bakugou goes up to his floor, wondering what exactly the fuck was going to happen next.

Despite his plans to do paperwork from home for the rest of the day, Bakugou finds himself staring into space more often than not.

He thinks about Blood Riot, and how he’s out on the loose again in some other universe and it’s his own fault for doing a shit job. He should have been more careful.

Then he thinks about ‘Kirishima’ and the whole situation which is colossally fucked up and confusing for everyone.

A little while later, Bakugou hears the door open and close from beneath him, and all he wants to do is to see what ‘Kirishima’ is doing. Why would he leave?

But he fights all the muscles in his body. Tokoyami was watching him, he had strong eyes and a strong quirk--if anyone could handle the situation it was him. Tokoyami had sworn to call Bakugou as soon as anything serious started to happen.

Bakugou couldn’t let this consume his life.

Not that he had much of a life to be consumed beyond the paperwork that was staring at him.

He finishes some of the paperwork and goes to sleep still thinking about everything he knows he shouldn’t be thinking about.

Bakugou returns to his office the next day and continues working on the mountain of paperwork. Which makes him wonder why the fuck being a hero meant so much desk-work and so little real action.

And it was good that heroes had less to do these days. Especially since Blood Riot had been caught. But even then Bakugou had been left empty, like he needed to constantly be chasing something to push away the hollow feeling inside.

And paperwork just wasn’t cutting it. But this situation isn’t exactly what he’d wanted either.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what he wanted.

Bakugou’s irritation with this day and his whole fucking life hits a breaking point when he hears a knock on his door.

He had told his secretary so many times not to come to his office and bother him when he was pissed off or behind on paperwork. And today he was both.

Stomping over and yanking open the door, Bakugou starts yelling until he sees who’s actually standing behind the door.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s not sure what he sees. ‘Kirishima Eijirou’ clearly underwent a makeover since Bakugou last saw him. And he gained some Shitty Hair.

It was so alarmingly different from the appearance that Bakugou had become used to that Bakugou just stares at him.

“Hi. I wanted to talk to you about some things…”

When Bakugou finds his words he says, “Holy fucking shit. Shitty hair, what did you do to your hair?”

To be fair to Shitty Hair, the hair isn’t actually that bad. It’s definitely a welcome change, but a dramatic change nonetheless.

“Oh, yeah. This is how I wear it in my world.” Shitty Hair responds, glancing at the ground, “I figured I could use all the distinguishing features I could get. Does it look bad?”

It doesn’t. It doesn’t look bad at all.

“No. It’s—it’s really different, which can only be good. I almost didn’t recognize you at first.”

“Oh. That’s… good.” Shitty Hair doesn’t sound sure about how he should take that.

But Bakugou doesn’t have time to waste on pleasantries. “Well, what the fuck do you want, Shitty Hair?”

Shitty Hair takes a moment to get his answer out. “For one thing, I wanted to talk to you about--I want to learn how to control this body’s quirk. And I want to use it to help people. And I’d really like your help.”

That catches Bakugou by surprise. Just a little.

And he’s intrigued, so he allows Shitty Hair to come inside and take a seat.

He’s not intrigued enough, though, to take this statement at face value.

Sitting in his own chair, he says, “Explain. I’m not a fucking charity, I don’t do shit just ‘cause.”

Shitty Hair goes into an explanation about his guilt over Blood Riot, and while it might be partially true, Bakugou can tell there’s more.

From the moment he got here, Shitty Hair had been feeling guilty about something. And Bakugou wanted to know what.

And why that made Shitty Hair want to train his quirk to be a hero.

As Bakugou hears Shitty Hair’s real explanation, Bakugou sees that he really is a good person.

Who takes way too much guilt onto himself. Some might say Bakugou does the same thing, but Bakugou thinks he’s learned where to draw the line.

But just because you couldn’t stop your friend from getting shot in a world where you weren’t even bulletproof, doesn’t mean you were responsible for it.

The criminal is the one who has to take the blame.

So Bakugou says what he’s thinking, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“What?”

“Is that the shit you’ve been feeling bad about since you got here? There’s nothing you could have done. Taking responsibility is all well and good. But do it when it’s necessary. Not just so you can wallow in your self-pity.”

After hearing Shitty Hair’s story, Bakugou decides that he’ll take a chance on him, and see what happens. He believes that Shitty Hair is telling the truth--he hadn’t lied to Bakugou yet.

Bakugou is deeply curious of what the outcome will be of training him, “But, fine. I’ll train you.”

Training Shitty Hair was… interesting. If by interesting Bakugou means borderline painful.

Having to help someone train to use the very quirk that had hurt him so many times. It made no fucking sense.

It’s okay, so long as he looks Shitty Hair in the eyes. He can tell the difference that way. But if Bakugou just looks afar at the hardened skin, he feels the need to fight, and to put him behind bars once more.

So he focuses on the differences.

And it’s a little fun to blast ex-Blood Riot onto his ass.

They take it easy for a few rounds, letting Shitty Hair get a feel for the quirk.

Then Bakugou tells Shitty Hair about his plan to have Tokoyami and Shouji assist with training. Bakugou claims it’s because he’s busy. Which is definitely true, he is extremely busy.

But Bakugou would rather bury himself in paperwork than admit that he couldn’t handle seeing Blood Riot’s quirk up close so often.

It stung like an open wound that Bakugou would never be done with his past.

He respects Shitty Hair’s intentions. And he can see the unwarranted guilt that eats him alive, from the inside out.

But that doesn’t make it any easier for Bakugou, even as he tries to assuage Shitty Hair’s guilt.

What will make it easier is having a little more concrete proof.

So he arranges for a small ‘meeting’ of sorts. He calls in a few favors.

Tokoyami watches Shitty Hair one day, and then he sends in a man with a knife quirk to start a fake hold up. They stay close to the agency in case things do go south.

And Bakugou sits in his office anxiously awaiting the results of Shitty Hair’s test.

Tokoyami calls him. Apparently Shitty Hair passed with flying colors.

Which is… good.

It’s good. But if Shitty Hair had turned out to be secretly evil, it would have been a lot less complicated for Bakugou.

Bakugou goes to Shitty Hair’s place to talk to him about it, but when he bangs on the door and it opens, he sees a crying face.

“Shitty Hair, I heard about—fuck. Are you crying?”

This isn’t one of the things that Bakugou had expected. Triumph, maybe. Excitement. But not tears.

“Did I pass your test?” Shitty Hair asks.

How the fuck did he know? That was some clever deduction there. Bakugou had intended on pretending like it was a strange coincidence, but something about Shitty Hair catches him off guard every time he thinks he’s gained solid ground.

“I—it wasn’t—I mean, fuck. Yeah, you did. Did you know the whole time?”

“I figured it out afterwards.”

“And is that why you’re crying…?” Bakugou didn’t really want to be the reason that he was crying.

Shitty Hair just laughs, “Don’t worry, it’s not. I just, I miss home.”

That doesn’t make Bakugou feel that much better, because no one could figure out how to get Shitty Hair home. How to bring Blood Riot back to a prison cell where he fucking belonged. “We’ve been looking but, we can’t find the way he did it. Or the way to get you back.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re doing your best.”

Bakugou isn’t sure that’s true. His conflicting emotions have held him back from being on the top of his game. But he wants to be better moving forward.

“Want to train with me today?” Bakugou asks.

That makes Shitty Hair smile widely, despite red eyes, “I’d love to.”

Bakugou can see how much Shitty Hair has grown only in the span of a couple of weeks. His skill with his quirk, but also his confidence in just existing in this universe and in this skin.

Slowly, Bakugou can see parts of Shitty Hair’s real personality shine through the situation. The more that Bakugou gets to know Shitty Hair, the more distinct he becomes from Blood Riot.

It messes with Bakugou’s brain in a whole new way.

Then Shity Hair pulls the rug from underneath Bakugou again.

He asks Bakugou to come inside after a training session, which isn’t what they normally do.

As they sit on the couch, Bakugou can see that Shitty Hair wants something specific, so he just waits for him to gain the courage to say it.

“Bakugou. Can I ask you something?”

That’s always a loaded question. So Bakugou gives a loaded answer. “Depends.”

“You don’t have to answer. I just… what did Blood Riot do—to you specifically?”

The question is a stone dropped on Bakugou’s heart. What didn’t Blood Riot do to him? Not even including everything he’s been going through this past month alone.

Bakugou stares at the floor, preparing himself for sharing the answer. Shitty Hair deserves it. And Bakugou needs to say it.

“Sorry, you really don’t have to say anything.”

But he does.

He holds his hand up to signal that he is starting, and to ask for attention, “when I was younger, I had a rocky relationship with my parents. My mom specifically. It… wasn’t great.”

Every word he says brings back everything he never wanted to think about again.

“We fought a lot. But—she was still my mom, you know.”

Bakugou doesn’t even look at Shitty Hair to see if he’s listening. He probably is. But if Bakugou breaks his focus, he might break down.

“My dad was quieter. He really didn’t like it when my mom and I argued, but he never got around to stopping it either. My relationship with them was rough. But that’s life. I grew distant, didn’t visit much. I kept busy with hero work.”

He knows he’s glossing over a lot, but that’s not what Shitty Hair asked about this time. Everything feels heavy in Bakugou’s throat.

“I didn’t really keep in touch, but one day I got a phone call from my dad. It had been a while, and I picked up. But my dad wasn’t the one who answered.”

Did Bakugou have to say it? Could he?

“It was Blood Riot.”

“He taunted me. Said that he had someone there who wanted to talk to me. He puts on the phone on speaker and I can hear—” Bakugou can’t say everything, he’s not sure if he can say anything at all.

“I can hear my parents. They—”

A hand on his shoulder gives him a second to breathe, “You don’t have to.”

He does. He really does. Has to do it, “Before—They told me they loved me. And then the line cut.” The memory burns through Bakugou like acid, like a white-hot poker being pushed through his chest.

“I called the agency and ran to the house. I got there as fast as humanly possible.” Is that true? Bakugou doesn’t know how honest he’s being with himself. It’s one of his greatest failures.

“And when I got there. There was a box at the front door. Labeled for me. And in it…” At this point, Bakugou feels broken. “In that fucking box was—”

What words are there? There aren’t. It’s the image that Bakugou sees when he tries to sleep. It’s what wakes him up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

“I’m so sorry, Bakugou.”

“They weren’t perfect. But that doesn’t mean I fucking wanted them to—they were still my parents.” The guilt, the memory, all of it, Bakugou wants nothing to do with it. He puts his face in his hands and wishes he could wash it all away, and himself with it.

"I wish I could do something. I'm just so fucking sorry." Then Bakugou remembers that Shitty Hair is sitting there too. And probably taking on more onto his own shoulders than he needs to.

Bakugou looks at Shitty Hair—Kirishima for the first time since telling the story, “What did I say about taking responsibility, Shitty Hair.”

This isn’t his responsibility at all. And maybe, just maybe it isn’t even Bakugou’s.

“I don’t—”

“Only do it when it’s actually your fault.”

Bakugou finds himself growing strangely accustomed to a new routine. In another life, maybe he would consider Kirishima… a friend.

Aside from being from entirely different universes, he and Kirishima actually have quite a bit in common. And Kirishima is funny and nice. It’s unexpected, how much Bakugou actually enjoys his company.

He finds more and more of his time being spent with Kirishima, just hanging out. It’s strange.

Bakugou’s old routine involved going to work, doing paperwork, and going to sleep. Maybe it was a little simpler then. He didn’t have to deal with alternate universes. He didn’t have to deal with confusing feelings.

But at the same time, it’s almost better. The way things are now. Almost.

There’s the lingering reminder that this isn’t the only Kirishima.

There’s the fact that everything about this situation is uncertain.

There’s the truth. That one day Kirishima will leave.

Bakugou works hard to not get attached. To keep his head on straight.

But he sees Kirishima grow into himself, improving as a hero. Learning to live in this world. Finding joy in some of the smallest things.

It just shows Bakugou how empty his life had been.

And Kirishima’s growth is definitely impressive. In a very short amount of time, Kirishima adapts to his new situation—more than that, he flourishes.

It’s impressive. The things that took some people years, Kirishima masters in months.

It isn’t long, not even 6 months, before Kirishima is ready for the next step.

Apparently, after all his hard work, Kirishima is hesitant—scared of going further. Which is stupid. He even tries closing the door in Bakugou’s face.

Idiot.

“If I say you’re ready, then you are. Stop being a chicken.”

“People will hate me. They deserve to, but it means no one will accept me.”

Kirishima’s concerns are valid. People would hate him. At least at first.

Those people expected Blood Riot, that’s all they knew. They didn’t know the real Kirishima.

Brave, kind, selfless, warm, and stupidly strong.

Given time, they’d learn to like, maybe even love, him.

“What happened to the guy who swore he’d change all their minds?” Bakugou asks. He hasn’t forgotten the promises that Kirishima had made all that time ago. And so far, he’d proven himself to be a man of his word.

Something about what Bakugou said gets through to Kirishima. He manages to calm down and gather himself, “Right! What’s the first step?”

Bakugou guides Kirishima through the steps of becoming a hero. Despite his nerves, Kirishima is excited about everything.

It reminds Bakugou of himself, a long time ago. And while he might never have been bright-eyed or bubbly, he remembers the excitement and the thrill.

Back before everything turned to complete shit. It felt so long ago.

Kirishima has it easier than a lot of heroes did, in some ways, because Bakugou had expedited the process for him.

Bakugou had done that for a couple of reasons.

Partly because Kirishima would already have a harder time in so many different ways, overcoming the reputation of the body he was borrowing.

And partly because Kirishima’s time was limited, Bakugou didn’t want to waste however little time Kirishima had stuck behind red tape and shitty rules.

A week passes quickly, and then it’s time for a press conference to announce Kirishima’s hero status to the world.

Bakugou can tell that Kirishima is nervous, he can see it in the way Kirishima is practically jumping up and down.

He needs to calm him down before he starts actually bouncing off the walls.

So Bakugou puts his hand on Kirishima’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, Kirishima. You’ve got this.” Then Bakugou pushes Kirishima in front of the podium to speak.

Bakugou listens to Kirishima address the crowd, and from behind, now that Kirishima has already begun, Bakugou can admit that he’s a little nervous too.

It was his reputation on the line. And he wanted things to go well for Kirishima. He deserved that much.

Kirishima speaks well. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he’s genuine. So far, so good.

“If it’s okay, I’d like a chance to show that I’m different from him. A chance to be a hero.” Kirishima delivers his last line and the crowd starts to flip their fucking lids.

Now, Bakugou can help Kirishima a little bit. He goes forward and stands next to Kirishima, sending him something close to a smile to let him know he’d done well.

“Alright fuckers, calm down. He can only take one question at a time.”

“How long have you been planning this?”

This is an easy question, so Bakugou is confident that Kirishima can handle this one.

“I’ve been training with Ground Zero for a while now, so I guess since that started.” Kirishima points for another question.

“How exactly do you intend on making up for Blood Riot’s atrocities?”

What the fuck kind of question is that?

“I don’t have anything exact. But I’ll try to save as many lives as I can. Use the powers I have for good,” Kirishima nods.

But Bakugou’s angry. That question directs all the blame in the wrong place.

This whole time, Bakugou had drilled it into Kirishima’s head that Blood Riot’s crimes are not on his head just because he was trapped inside that skin.

Maybe it was time that Bakugou took his own advice.

Because the only person responsible for Blood Riot’s crimes, was Blood Riot.

Not Kirishima. Not Bakugou.

So Bakugou can’t just sit there and let Kirishima take the question, let it into his head.

“Just to be real fucking clear, he doesn’t have to do any of this shit. He’s his own person, he didn’t do anything wrong. The fact that he’s trying to do any of this at all—that means he’s already a hero.” Bakugou means every word he says.

The next question is Kirishima’s last hurdle. “If you’re going to be a hero, what will your hero name be?”

Kirishima turns to Bakugou, but Bakugou can’t do this for Kirishima.

He can’t tell him who to be. He can’t give him his power. He can’t make everything right for Kirishima.

This belongs to Kirishima.

Bakugou waits, and hopes that Kirishima has it in him. Bakugou believes in him, but he knows the impossible challenge that Kirishima faces. It wouldn’t be hard to be unsure under this pressure.

Kirishima answers, “You can call me… Red Riot.”

And it’s good. It’s Kirishima, and it’s progress.

More than that, Bakugou can see that it’s just what Kirishima needed. To prove himself to himself.

And he did it. It’s perfect.

So Bakugou can’t help grinning at Kirishima, genuinely excited for him. Truly happy.

Kirishima doesn’t look at the crowd after his answer, he looks at Bakugou and smiles back softly.

Bakugou is proud of Kirishima.

What makes Bakugou really happy is that the public receives Kirishima’s news better than either of them had expected. Maybe people weren’t complete fucking idiots after all.

Kirishima is able to start slow, working with smaller crimes. Which is good.

And, of course, Bakugou is there to help Kirishima every step of the way. Bakugou enjoys being there to help Kirishima.

So fuck whatever a couple of shitty extras wrote about Bakugou on the internet. They didn’t know either of them. They just spread dumb shit on the internet about Bakugou being brainwashed and deluded.

It really didn’t matter to Bakugou even a little bit. He’d given up on the world around him ages ago.

But it apparently, it mattered to Kirishima. He didn’t like Bakugou’s name being dragged through the mud just because of him. Which Bakugou obviously said was bullshit.

Still, Kirishima wanted to do something, and Bakugou helped. If Kirishima wanted to make a video, that was his business. Bakugou would be there to help like always.

It’s hard to remember what life had been like months before. How things were usually.

Kirishima took up so much of Bakugou’s life now.

It’s hard to remember until one day it isn’t.

Bakugou is very particular about his sleep schedule. He rarely even makes exceptions for Kirishima.

So when he gets a call at 6 in the morning on a Saturday, Bakugou is a more than a little pissed. On Saturday’s, Bakugou sleeps till noon, that’s the rule.

“What the fuck do you want?” Bakugou usually isn’t that rude on the phone, but it’s his day off, so he’s allowed to be annoyed.

“Sorry, Ground Zero, sir. It’s just… We—”

“You called me early on my day off, so if you don’t spit whatever it is the fuck out, I’ll end you.”

“Right. Well, we finally found Blood Riot’s hide out.”

Shit fuck.

“Hello? Ground Zero? Are you still there?”

“We’ll be there shortly.”

Fuck shit.

He allows himself five minutes to freak out. Because he really should have known better. Kirishima has to go home. No matter how long he’s stuck here, this would never be his home.

Bakugou hates himself for how his heart is racing and his stomach churns. He wasn’t a fucking baby, he could face the facts.

Yet, when he finds himself in front of Kirishima’s door a short while later, he still feels sick to his stomach. He knocks firmly on the door.

Kirishima looks confused, but he still answers the door with a characteristic bright smile, “What’s up?”

Bakugou could do this. “The police called me. Since long before you ever showed up, they’ve been looking for Blood Riot’s base. His home.”

He had to do it. For Kirishima.

“They found it. And they’re letting us tag along to see if we can find anything that’ll help you.”

“Help me?”

Why was Kirishima making this harder? Fuck. “Help you find what brought you here. How to get you… home.”

The thought finally clicks in Kirishima’s brain.

But Bakugou can see Kirishima’s guarded excitement. He didn’t blame Kirishima for not wanting to get his hopes up. Who knew what they’d find.

“Oh, yeah. That’s good. It’s great!”

While Kirishima got dressed Bakugou calls Tokoyami and Shouji and tries not to have a meltdown.

They tell Bakugou they’ll be there, of course. And he’d grateful that they don’t try to say some stupid shit about it all.

Seeing Blood Riot’s base of operations is unsettling. It feels like something is crawling underneath Bakugou’s skin.

Tokoyami and Shouji greet Bakugou and Kirishima by the door. It’s time to sweep the building. Look for any trace of how Blood Riot swapped minds with Kirishima—more importantly, how to switch them back.

Bakugou had told Kirishima that they were doing their best to find his way back to his world, and this was where it all counted.

Looking inside the house of the person who’d done so many unspeakably horrible things, Bakugou wonders why Blood Riot did this to him. And why Blood Riot had to come back.

It was a stupid thought. Blood Riot had to pay for his crimes. And Kirishima had a life to return home to. A life that Bakugou wasn’t a part of.

And when Kirishima left, Bakugou’s life would go back to business as usual.

Bakugou knew with complete certainty he didn’t want that.

But he also knew that he rarely gets what he wants.

So Bakugou gives 110% of himself searching Blood Riot’s eerily clean home.

He looks in every corner, and in every twist. He checks with Shouji, to make sure he’s used all of his senses to uncover what he can.

Tokoyami and Dark Shadow search everywhere they can.

But their hard work turns up no results. There isn’t a trace of Blood Riot’s planning or his methods. Not a trace.

Bakugou had always known that Blood Riot was meticulous, so he thought that he’d leave some kind of notes. A detailed record of everything he’d done.

Apparently, Blood Riot was so meticulous that he swept all traces of his history clean.

While Tokoyami and Shouji reassure Kirishima about what they found—or didn’t find, Bakugou battles with his emotions.

The guilt he feels because he can’t get Kirishima home. The anger he feels because Blood Riot is still out there. The relief he feels because Kirishima will stay with him for even a little longer.

Bakugou wrestles with the conflicting feelings through lunch and as he and Kirishima walk home. Talking to Kirishima is a good distraction, though.

As they near Kirishima’s door, Kirishima pauses. “You know. You don’t have to walk me to my place every time. I know you want to go back to sleep for a while. You could have just gone straight home.”

Oh. Kirishima still doesn’t know. It makes Bakugou snort. “You never realized, huh.”

Kirishima just looks confused. “Realized what?”

“Well. I wanted to keep an eye on you for a while.”

“So…?”

“So. I made sure you were near me.”

It doesn’t seem to click in Kirishima’s brain, and Bakugou wants to laugh. He flicks Kirishima’s forehead as he tells him, “I live in the apartment right above yours, idiot,” Bakugou flicks Kirishima’s forehead, “I can’t believe you never noticed.”

That starts Kirishima’s laughter, “Oh my god, I’m so dumb.”

But he isn’t. From the moment Bakugou met him, he’d been surprised by Kirishima’s sharp observations and intelligence. “That’s the thing. You’re not dumb. You’re just selectively observant. You don’t always see the obvious things right in front of your face.”

Kirishima just smiles like an idiot, “Thanks.”

Bakugou is still battling his emotions, and he isn’t sure if he can do that properly in front of Kirishima’s smile. “Don’t let it get to your head. Now I have to sleep, I’ll see you later,” Once Bakugou had time to clear his head, he’d be better.

He starts climbing the stairs when he hears Kirishima shout behind him. “Bye, neighbor!”

Bakugou is helpless to stop the laugh that finally makes its way out.

Bakugou spends the next few months simultaneously happy and nervous. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He can never remember, but at the same time he can’t forget.

But he waits and waits.

It doesn’t happen the way he’d expected.

Kirishima asks to spend Mother's Day alone. Which makes sense to Bakugou. Kirishima misses his moms—of course he does.

It’s a confusing day for Bakugou, too.

But as Bakugou about to go for a run to clear his head, he gets a call.

“Ground Zero?”

“What do you want?”

“We were told you had an alert in place for a specific residence. If anyone trespassed.”

A chill runs down Bakugou’s spine. There was only one place he’d asked the police to call him about.

“What’s the report?”

“The alarm for the residence was tripped, we have a unit on its way.”

“Cancel the unit. I’ll deal with it myself.”

“Copy that, Ground Zero.”

Bakugou goes as fast as he can, but he still doesn’t get there in time.

When he gets there, the door is wide open, and he can see that someone left in a hurry. He steps inside and he sees a new room that no one had seen before.

He doesn’t waste his time checking the room. He sprints outside and looks for people nearby.

There’s a café across the street. Bakugou finds the waiter, “Did you see who went into the house across the street?”

The waiter looks alarmed, but they keep their composure, “I couldn’t be sure.” But they aren’t giving Bakugou the full truth. They’re scared to admit what they saw.

And that gives Bakugou his answer. But he needs more, “Where did the person you go, what direction?” It takes all of Bakugou’s self control to not grab the waiter by the shirt and shake them for answers.

When the waiter points a shaky finger, Bakugou knows exactly where that direction is.

On his way to the prison, Bakugou calls and asks for the police to keep an eye out for Red Riot’s location.

He’s at the gates of the prison when he gets a call telling him there was a sighting of Red Riot near the warehouse from one of the first crimes Red Riot had stopped. An empty warehouse.

When he gets there, Bakugou doesn’t have time to look for an entrance that isn’t sealed off. He explodes the side of the building, blasting his way in.

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

And there’s Kirishima, standing alone in the middle of a warehouse, with a pair of handcuffs halfway on.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Because Bakugou knows what Kirishima is doing. He knows what’s happening.

Kirishima flounders for a response, “I’m—I have to go. I found out how he did it. I think I got in because I was alone and now I have to—”

Bakugou can’t really think properly, his head is full of a hundred thoughts. “You—,” He doesn’t know what he was going to say. But he feels like someone had dropped a building on his head. “You were going to leave without saying good-bye?”

He can’t fault Kirishima for wanting to leave. But why like this?

Kirishima starts to cry, “I left you a note. I—”

“A note? After everything. You left me a note?”

“I couldn’t—Bakugou, I couldn’t do it. I have to do this, but I couldn’t—”

Maybe Bakugou isn’t being fair to Kirishima. Maybe this is just as hard for Kirishima as it is for him.

But fuck that.

“You don’t have the decency to face me? I have to find out that you’re breaking into a crime scene. Then I have to follow you to prison. And then here?”

Bakugou doesn’t even think he’s angry. He knows he isn’t. He just feels like there’s a hole in his chest.

“You have to know, I—.” Kirishima cuts himself off, and he closes the handcuffs.

Bakugou’s whole body feels like it’s on fire. His eyes sting.

Kirishima takes a step closer and holds his hands near Bakugou’s face as best as he can with the handcuffs on his wrists. “You have to let me say this. Just once.”

It’s not like Bakugou has any words right now, anyway.

“Thank you for everything. For showing me that I’m stronger than I think I am. For teaching me about taking responsibility the right way. For being the light that took me out of the darkest place I’ve ever been in. For trusting me when I didn’t trust myself. You changed my life.”

Bakugou’s heart feels like it’s combusting, like his quirk is working on him from the inside.

“For showing me that I can be a hero.”

And Bakugou can’t help his tears. He takes Kirishima’s hands and presses them onto his cheeks. He’ll allow himself this moment of weakness.

He presses his forehead against Kirishima’s. “This isn’t fucking fair. Everyone always leaves. I’m always left alone.”

But Bakugou can’t put that on Kirishima. It isn’t fair to make him carry Bakugou’s burdens.

“I wish that I could ask you to stay.” He says it in a whisper, because he doesn’t have the energy left in him to speak louder.

“I wish that I could say yes.”

Bakugou feels so fucking empty. “What’s the point of being a hero, of all the fame and glory and shit if I just end up miserable and alone at the end of it all anyway?” Why did he keep trying?

“I’m sorry.” Kirishima says, “Bakugou, you know I—.”

Bakugou knows. He’s not an idiot. He knows. “Yeah, I do. And I—me too.”

And Kirishima has to know too. Even if neither of them can say it.

It’s too much.

Bakugou isn’t sure how long the moment is, but then Kirishima steps backwards. Bakugou can feel the end.

“I’m really going to miss you so much, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

But Bakugou doesn’t want to just miss Kirishima. He wants more, “There must be something. I’ll find a way.”

Kirishima just smiles at Bakugou through the tears. “You’re the smartest, most amazing person I’ve ever known. But you don’t have to. You’ve already given me enough love for a hundred lifetimes.”

But what if Bakugou wants another lifetime?

He sees Kirishima put a small device in his mouth and close his eyes. And Bakugou closes his eyes, too.

“Long time no see, Katsuki.”

Bakugou snaps his eyes open.

The difference is clear as day.

“Oh, someone’s been crying. What’s got you all in tears? Been a while since I’ve seen you like this.”

His skin starts to itch. Bakugou fucking hates Blood Riot.

He doesn’t say a word, he won’t give him the fucking satisfaction. He wipes his tears and steps forward.

He’s still a hero, and now he has to put a villain back in prison.

He grabs Blood Riot by the handcuffs and drags him forward, heading towards the prison.

“So rough. Is this because you’re mad at me for leaving? I couldn’t just sit around in that cell.”

Bakugou stays quiet.

“Katsuki, talk to me. It’s been too long. I missed you.”

Hearing Blood Riot say his name made Bakugou want to plunge himself into a vat of acid. But he keeps his resolute silence.

“Can I just ask, something?”

No, Bakugou thinks. Fuck right off you fucking asshole. I will end you right here right now.

“What did this idiot do to my hair? I mean it’s one thing to change his own hair, but to come into my body and change it up. That’s just rude.”

Bakugou muscles twitch as he resists every instinct in his body. He doesn’t turn back to look at Blood Riot.

Looking at him, and knowing Kirishima was gone. Fuck. It would destroy Bakugou.

“Honestly, he was such an embarrassment. Living in his body gave me second-hand embarrassment. Is it second-hand? The rules are a little unclear.”

“He must be so heartbroken about having to go back to his tragic life. He was so lucky to come here. At least I spiced things up a little. Frankly—”

Bakugou couldn’t hold back anymore. He turns around and punches Blood Riot straight in the jaw with as much force as possible.

Blood Riot stumbles back a few feet, but he manages to stay on his feet, chuckling. Bakugou looks at him and he sees Blood Riot’s face—what used to be Kirishima’s face—contorted into a crooked grin, blood dripping from his mouth and coating his teeth.

“I guess that pathetic excuse of a human got under your skin, huh.”

Bakugou stops responding again. He shouldn’t have given in to the temptation.

Eventually, they make it to the prison. For the second time that day.

A prison guard meets them at the front. He seems concerned, but not as confused as Bakugou would’ve expected.

“Ground Zero, is this…?”

“It’s me! A welcome change, I’m sure.” Blood Riot gives the guard a gruesome smirk.

“He’s back.” Bakugou says.

“Oh, so you haven’t gone mute then. How exciting!”

“Put him in a cell and throw away the key.” Bakugou instructs. His voice comes out low and scratchy.

He shoves Blood Riot forward, and into the prison.

The guard nods and two more guards come to take Blood Riot back to his cell.

As he’s being dragged backwards, Blood Riot gets in some last words, “I will say this. As much fun as I had in that world, there definitely isn’t anyone like you there, Katsuki.”

When the door closes behind Blood Riot, Bakugou has every intention of never seeing that man again.

Bakugou talks to the first guard again, “I’ll send someone from the agency to do a thorough scan of Blood Riot to make sure he can’t play Houdini again.”

As he’s turning to leave, the guard speaks, “Wait. I have something for you. It’s from—well, it was from Red Riot. Before—”

The guards pulls a note out of his pocket. The fucking note Kirishima had been talking about.

Bakugou snatches it from the guard’s hand and holds it tight in his grip all the way back to his apartment. His heart aches as he passes Kirishima’s floor.

Sitting on his bed, Bakugou stares at the ground He places the envelope in the drawer of his nightstand.

He doesn’t have it in him to read it right now.

But what does it matter anyway?

Kirishima is back home, and Blood Riot is back in prison.

Everyone exactly where they belonged.

Chapter Text

When Kirishima opens his eyes on the couch, he’s suddenly terrified that it all really was a dream. Every heart-breaking second was just his subconscious weaving a story for his sleeping mind. 

Bakugou had to have been real. 

But as he fights through the panic and looks around the room, he notices it’s different. 

A lot cleaner than when he had left it. That’s what’s most noticeable. 

Before he’d left, all those months ago. Almost a year ago. 

Then, Kirishima does something he’s been wanting to do for a very long time. He takes his phone from the coffee table in front of him. 

He calls his parents. 

His heart races with the dial tone. If they don’t answer... 

His moms answer on the second ring. “Eijirou! It’s been so long since you called us! And after everything you said last time we—”

Kirishima has no idea what awful things Blood Riot might have said to them, but he honestly doesn’t have it in him to care. Hearing his mothers’ voices after all this time means so much to him. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t myself then. I—can I come home? I really need to see you guys.”

He won’t cry. He has cried far too much in the last few days. He won’t.

“Of course. We would love to talk to you about everything that’s been going on. We’ve missed you so much, sweetie. Please come home.” 

Kirishima starts crying. 

“I’ll grab some things and be there as soon as possible.” He wipes his eyes, “I love you.”

“We love you more. Come home safely.”

Kirishima goes to his bedroom for the first time and it’s just as clean as the rest of his apartment. It’s so eerie. 

Usually, his apartment would be strewn with clothes and wrappers—and that was on a good day. Before he’d left, there had barely been a visible square-inch of floor. 

At least he knew everything was real. Everything that had happened. He wasn’t losing his mind. 

He gets to his bathroom, looks in the mirror, and feels a chill run down his spine. What had he done in this world? 

His hair isn’t red anymore at all. That’s how long it’s been. And his hair is past his shoulders, much longer than he’d ever wear it. 

More proof that someone else had been inhabiting his body while he was running around and playing hero. 

After he tied up his loose ends, talked to people, he’d do his best to make it all right. He could do it. 

He ties his hair back, and grabs his phone and a charger. That’s all he needs for now. 

Getting to the train is his first priority. 

Once he’s on, he has to know.

He checks the news for what had happened in his year away. 

First he looks up Blood Riot. And he sighs in relief when nothing shows up. Although, he supposes that if Blood Riot had been well known, Kirishima would have woken up in prison. Probably.

Then he looks up his own name. Nothing. 

Good. So far. 

Then he looks up serial killer. And there’s a few headlines that catch his attention. 

‘SHARP INCREASE IN NUMBER OF MISSING PERSONS: KIDNAPPING RING OR SERIAL KILLER?’

‘POLICE REFUSE TO VERIFY WHAT THE CAUSE OF INCREASE OF MISSING PERSONS’

‘NO BODIES HAVE ARISEN TO SUBSTANTIATE CLAIMS OF A NEW SERIAL KILLER’

Kirishima feels sick to his stomach. What if…?

The train jerks him forward and out of his panic. He’s at his stop. 

He’d have to deal with those problems later.

Making his way to his moms’ house, he can’t help but wonder what Blood Riot might have said to them. Kirishima had already felt guilty about the things he had said to them before he left. 

Kirishima had been upset, and he didn’t want help back then. He had just wanted to wallow in his misery. And who knows how long he would have. 

And then he met Bakugou.

But now he has to face his moms again. He didn’t even have the full story. He hopes Blood Riot hadn’t done anything to hurt his moms. 

Standing at the doorstep of his old home, Kirishima feels. Scared. 

He wants to be accepted. But what if they can’t. What if months of silence and horrible words made it impossible for his moms to love him the same way.

Maybe he should turn back. Just call and say that something came up. 

He raises his fist.No. He has to face them. And he really needs to be home. 

Before he can knock, though, the door swings wide open. 

“Eijirou!” His moms wrap him in a hug so tight he stops breathing. It’s safe and warm in their arms. He closes his eyes and smells their perfume. 

“We missed you so much, we can’t even begin to tell you,” his ma says without pulling away from the embrace. 

“I’m so so sorry. I missed you too.”

“We were so worried about you,” his mom says, and he can feel tears drop onto his back.

He put them through too much. They deserved so much better. 
“Come inside, we made your favorite. Let’s just sit and eat, and then we can talk. But let’s not be serious right now,” his mom says, as they both tug Kirishima inside.

Kirishima nods, feeling breathless from happiness and relief. 

Dinner is… quiet. There’s a lingering tension. Kirishima is happy to be home, of course, but obviously so much needed to be said. 

His moms just keep smiling at him, though, which was nice. After dinner, he helps with cleaning even though they tried to tell him not to.

Then they sit down in the living room, his moms on one sofa, Kirishima on the other across from them. 

“Alright, I think we need to talk about what’s been going on with you. Ever since Tetsutetsu got hurt last year, you’ve been spiraling. And then we hoped maybe you got better but you got so much worse.” 

Kirishima feels his skin itch from guilt, “I’m so sorry, I just—I wasn’t myself.”

“You keep saying that, but we don’t know what that means. What happened?”

How could Kirishima even begin to explain any of it? Anything he said would make them think he had pushed himself into a delusion. That he had really past some kind of a line.

‘Sorry moms, I was in an alternate universe and I—’ Honestly, everytime Kirishima thinks about it himself, he isn’t sure it was real. He knew it was, but at the same time it was so surreal. 

“We don’t want to push, it’s just after what you said. We felt so awful. We never wanted to fail you. And you kept saying it was our fault and you never wanted to see us again, we just didn’t know what to do,” his mom starts to cry. 

Kirishima hates seeing his moms cry. It’s the worst feeling in the world. And it was all his fault. 

His own vision starts to blur from tears. 

“It’s been really hard, I just went through a lot. I don’t know if I can explain.” Kirishima’s voice catches. All he wants is to crawl into his mothers’ arms and cry. “Please just know, I am so so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I was lashing out in the worst way. I understand if you can never forgive me.”

Kirishima gets up and goes to bow by his mothers’ feet, begging for their forgiveness. 

All three of them are sobbing now; Kirishima is lifted up and into their arms. 

“There’s nothing to forgive. You’re here now, it’s all okay. You’re safe. You’re home.” His ma is stroking his hair. 

Kirishima whispers into the embrace, “Thank you.” 

Kirishima spends a week at home, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and love away from the outside world. It’s soft and safe, and it would be so easy to stay there with his moms and forget about the rest of the world.

They take the time to help him fix his hair. Cutting it and bringing it back to the vibrant color he used to have. They even have spare hair gel in their cupboards. He’s more grateful than he could ever express. 

And even if he can’t explain why, when his moms see him crying at 3 in the morning in the kitchen, they hold him tight and tell him it’ll be alright. 

It won’t. He feels like he’s missing a whole piece of himself, but what’s done is done. He’s back in his world now. 

 And he had a lot more amends to make. 

He never asks his mothers exactly what Blood Riot—or what to them he—said. For one thing, it doesn’t make sense to ask about a conversation he was supposed to be a part of. 

And he doesn’t want to make his moms go through that again. He’d hurt them enough already. If they wanted to move forward, he wasn’t going to relive the past. 

Maybe more selfishly, he isn’t sure that he would be able to live with himself. Knowing exactly what he did to them—what Blood Riot did to them in his name—it would destroy him. 

He isn’t sure if it’s the right thing necessarily, but he lets himself be selfish. To have this peace. It might be his last. 

So he never asks, and his moms never say. And Kirishima can live with that. Mostly. 

But what he does ask them about is his friends. 

During his stay, he tries to text them. Especially Tetsutetsu and Kaminari. But his messages never deliver. 

He checks if it was his cell service. But it wasn’t. 

So, his friends had blocked him. And he knows for a fact that they hadn’t blocked him before he left. 

Whatever the fuck Blood Riot said to them pushed them far enough away that they wanted nothing to do with him. 

But he’ll be damned  if he let Blood Riot ruin his friendships along with everything else. 

He talks to his moms about it. 

“I tried texting Kaminari and Tetsutetsu, but it didn’t go through. I just. I guess I really hurt them?”

His mom looks down, “Eijirou, honey, we’re your parents and we love you no matter what. We know you, and we are here for you even if you say some… things.”

“But your friends, they didn’t raise you. And they might not have the same tolerance.”

“Yeah, I deserve it, but I really want to make it up to them. If that’s possible.” 

His ma puts her hand on his shoulder, “They talked to us about it, and they didn’t tell us what you said or did, but they said it a lot of it was unforgivable.”

Oh. Shit. 

“But, listen,” his mom says, “You’re right to want to try. You really messed up, but you have to try. Just try your best, they’re worth it.” 

He’d missed his mom’s wisdom. She was right, like always. 

“I want to, I do, but I don’t even know where to start.” 

His moms look at each other, “We know where Tetsutetsu is doing his physical therapy, you can start there.” 

His moms write down the information. He keeps the slip of paper in his pocket, and as he makes his way to the train station, he puts his hand inside the pocket and feels the paper on his fingertips. 

It was nerve wracking. All of it. 

He can’t stop thinking about his good-bye to his moms. 

They had squeezed him tightly, and no one wanted to let go. 

But obviously Kirishima had to let go of them. 

They told him to come home soon, “Promise us honey, let’s not wait this long again. Come and see us more. We miss you so much.” 

He’d nodded weakly at that, but didn’t say a word. He wasn’t sure if he could follow through on a promise like that. 

The more he thought about what he had to do to make all the things right in this world, in his world, at the end of the day he’d spend it alone in a prison cell. 

That was the only way to give the victims of Blood Riot’s crimes justice. So after he fixed things with his friends, he would confess. And he would spend the rest of his life in prison. 

It was almost pointless, trying to fix his relationships. Because they would hate him all over again after he was put in jail. 

But he knows he could manage all the struggles  if he had their forgiveness, even for a moment. 

Those thoughts hold his attention the whole way home. 

Once he gets off the train, and starts walking to his apartment, he feels a chill run down his spine and he stops in his tracks. He had never checked his place for what Blood Riot might have left there.

He breaks into a run, realizing he should have swept the area before leaving. Who knew what sick things Blood Riot might have left lying around?

Kirishima pushes the door to his apartment open, his hands shaking. As he steps inside, he notices a small piece of paper on the ground, black writing on it. 

‘Welcome Back.’

The handwriting is so similar to his own and yet so different. 

Blood Riot.

Kirishima’s fingers tremble as he picks up the note. It’s such a tangible reminder of every fear that he had. 

When he flips it over, he realizes it’s just that. A note welcoming him back. But why? And how? 

It seems like Blood Riot was prepared for anything. 

Pocketing the note, Kirishima turns his gaze around the room, scanning inch by inch. And for the most part he can only see vacuumed floors and dust-free surfaces. 

In fact, everything in the apartment smells fresh and clean. And somehow that makes Kirishima’s stomach churn even more. 

He finds no other trace until he checks the bathroom. He pulls back the shower curtain and there sit his bottles of hair dye, untouched. 

And there’s another note on top of it. 

‘You should probably invest in higher quality hair dye if you’re going to keep up with that monstrosity you call hair.

P.S. You should check the closet next.’ 

Kirishima stares at the note for who knows how long. It was mocking him. Somehow. 

He doesn’t run to the closet in his bedroom. The walk is slow and torturous. 

He places his palm on the handle of the closet door and curls his fingers around it hesitantly. He yanks it open and jumps back with a yelp when something flutters toward him. Another slip of paper. 

‘I re-did your wardrobe a bit, some necessary changes. I kept the ashes of your clothes in a bottle in the back of the closet. That zebra print shirt was more criminal than anything I’ve ever done.’

Kirishima can see noticeable absences in his wardrobe. He reaches into the back and pulls out a glass jar filled with ash. 

His clothes.

And attached is yet another note. 

‘Check the fridge ;)’

Kirishima comes to stand in front of the fridge filled with an overwhelming dread. Staring at it, Kirishima didn’t know what he hopes—or doesn’t hope—to find. 

The truth is, whether its proof or nothing, neither will make Kirishima happy. 

Kirishima shakes his head out of his introspection, staring at the clean, white surface of his fridge. 

He pulls the handle, tugging the door open forcefully.

And it was…

Empty. 

Except for a single piece of paper, bigger than any of the others he had found before. 

It was a letter addressed… to himself. 

Hello Me, 

I imagine you were expecting to find something a little more nefarious in here. Sorry to disappoint. ;)

If you’re reading this, it means Katsuki found a way to bring me back. I knew he would eventually. Although I will miss having my fun here, this universe is a little dull for my taste.

I will say, I’ve managed to spice things up while I’ve been here. I’m sure you have your suspicions about what happened while you were away, but don’t bother trying to think too hard. You won’t find any evidence or clues. 

You’re welcome! No one can accuse me of not cleaning up my own messes—not that anyone would try. If I ever decide to come back here, I don’t want any of your sloppiness messing things up for me. 

I hope you enjoyed your little jaunt in my body—probably the first time you’ve ever actually had real power. 

I can’t wait to see how things have changed. 

Until Next Time, 

Kirishima Eijirou

No. 

That fucking asshole. He was toying with Kirishima even though they had never met and they were fucking worlds apart. 

Kirishima sinks to the floor, crushing the paper in his fist, wishing he could disintegrate the note in his hands. Or maybe just himself. 

He failed again. 

Now he had no way to make amends to the people who had lost their lives. To their families. He feels stuck. 

Kirishima spends a while on the floor, in a state of total meltdown. But then he reminds himself that curling up into a ball on the floor wouldn’t help anyone. 

This situation sucked. Like really fucking sucked. But what would Bakugou do? 

He’d tell Kirishima to stop holding himself accountable for this and move forward. He’d—

Kirishima wishes desperately Bakugou could be there to yell at him and remind him to get into shape. Or just that he could be there at all. 

But here, in this room, it was just him. Kirishima Eijirou. The only one who could pick himself up. The only one who knew enough to make things right. And he was going to do just that. 

And that was something Blood Riot couldn’t take away from him, despite all his mind games.  

He wipes his eyes, drying the tears he hadn’t even realized he’d shed, and stands up with determination. 

He would find a way to make the world a better place. Starting with his friendships. 

Starting by talking to Tetsutetsu. Or at least he would try. 

Kirishima can’t stop shaking his leg, his anxious energy keeping his body tense. The person sitting next to him on the train sends him a glare. Kirishima presses his leg down with his hand in an attempt to still himself. 

His leg continues to shake. 

Would Tetsutetsu even speak to him? 

Maybe not. 

When the train sounds for his stop, Kirishima hops up quickly and sprints out the door. 

But then the closer he got to the physical therapy center, the more he realized he was unprepared for this. Even though he had planned everything he wanted to say, he was unprepared. 

Kirishima walks into the hospital, hands pressed together. He approaches the counter as unassumingly as possible. 

“Hi, I’m here to visit someone.” 

“Who are you here to visit?” the receptionist asked, pulling out a clipboard and handing it to Kirishima to be filled out.

“Tetsutetsu.”

“First name?”

“Tetsutetsu.”

The receptionist looks up at him, “Okay then, can I get the last name?”

“The patient is Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu.”

“Oh.”

After some clicking on the computer, the receptionist nods, “And what was your name?”

But before he could answer, he hears the sound of the door opening and he sees a familiar face coming through in a wheelchair.

“Kirishima? What are you doing here?”

“Tetsutetsu, I—I’m here to apologize. Can we talk somewhere please?”

Tetsutetsu looks uncertain, but he agrees, gesturing Kirishima towards a room to the right. “We can talk in here for a little bit. What are you doing here?” 

“I needed to see you, to apologize for—”

“I just don’t get it. You don’t come to the hospital for ages, and apparently when you do, you do some fucked up shit. I don’t remember it clearly, but… Then it was absolute radio silence. And now you’re here. Why? Why now?”

Kirishima falls to the floor in front of Tetsutetsu, determined not to cry despite the stinging in his eyes. 

“Tetsutetsu I am sorry about everything, I’ve done. From the moment you got shot in that store, I have just felt so awful. I can’t take back the past, I can’t make it better. I wish I had been faster, I wish it had been me instead of you.”

Kirishima takes a breath, but doesn’t look up to meet Tetsutetsu’s eyes. 

“There will never be enough words to express how sorry I am for what I did. There’s no explanation or justification I can give. Just know that I didn’t mean it. I’ll never be able to take it back, and I know asking for forgiveness is too much. But it’s all I’ve got. Please.”

When he glances up, Kirishima sees tears in Tetsutetsu’s eyes. Tetsutetsu pulls Kirishima up by his shirt and into a hug, “I do forgive you, bro. I’ve missed you so much.”

It feels like a world has been lifted from Kirishima’s shoulders. 

“For the accident, the shooting. Kirishima, you can’t blame yourself. You kept me alive while we were there. You didn’t tell that man to pull the trigger, and you can’t be faster than a bullet or bulletproof.” 

It’s what Kirishima hadn’t dared to let himself hope to hear for a year now. 

“As for the hospital. Like I said, I was in and out and I really don’t remember much. And I just don’t have it in me to be mad. It has been a long a*s year. I have been through too much hell to hold onto my anger.” 

Kirishima stands up fully, pressing his hands to his eyes to stop tears from falling.

“But.” Tetsutetsu says before Kirishima can respond to anything, “Even though I don’t remember, Kaminari does. And I have a feeling you’re going to have a lot harder of a time getting to him.” 

Kirishima nods. He’s been lucky so far, blessed to have the most forgiving and kind people in his life. 

But he had figured he would have to work a little harder eventually. 

“I know, and I’m going to do everything I can.”

Kirishima and Tetsutetsu continue to talk, about Tetsutetsu’s condition and about Kirishima’s mom’s. The conversation is nice, but there’s a certain level of comfort and ease that has been lost. 

Eventually, Tetsutetsu has to go, but they make plans to meet up again. And hopefully time could fix the cracks left in their friendship. 

On the train ride home, Kirishima calls his moms. They excitedly ask him how it went. 
“It went really great. Tetsutetsu was so awesome, he forgave me so quickly. More than I deserve honestly. I couldn’t have asked for more.”

“That’s amazing, Eijirou! We are so proud of you.”

For the rest of the train ride, Kirishima has his head tilted back, and he stares at the ceiling. Turns out picking up the broken pieces of your old life, it was exhausting. 

And he hadn’t even started cleaning up the mess he himself had made. His school and classes. The future. 

Shit. 

He’s a lot more tired than he had realized. So he accidentally falls asleep and misses his stop. 

When he wakes up, he’s on the wrong side of the city. At least, it was far away from his apartment. But it’s familiar in a different way. 

Kirishima gets off the train and starts to walk around. 

It’s strange. How similar a city can be, even when it’s an entirely different world. 

He walks towards a store, located exactly where Bakugou’s agency would have been. He reaches out and touches the bricks of the wall, as if that would somehow bring him back. 

The bricks are cold. Kirishima pulls his hand away from them. 

He should get back to the train station, before it’s too late. 

Kirishima sleeps a little restlessly. Not that he has slept well in a very long time, but his thoughts are especially tumultuous that night. 

Leaving the bed that morning is the last thing that Kirishima wants to do. But he can’t give up now. That would be extremely f*cking unmanly. 

Instead, he gets up, and he readies himself for the day. If he’s lucky, Kaminari will at least speak to him. Let him hear what he has to say. 

More likely though, Kaminari will slam the door in Kirishima’s face. 

Kirishima wishes he had another way to do this other than just showing up on Kaminari’s doorstep. But he had to prove that he was serious about being better, about earning forgiveness. 

The first knock on Kaminari’s door was barely audible. Kirishima’s arm slowly lost force until he touched the door with softest tap. He stood there for a second, before trying another knock, slightly louder than the first. 

But Kirishima doubts that Kaminari could hear that one either. He raises his hand for a final attempt, when the door handle starts to turn. 

He jumps back from the door just as it opens. Kaminari isn’t looking up at first, so it takes him a moment to register that there’s someone there. That Kirishima is there. 

His face turns instantly from neutral to disgust. Hatred. Which stings. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Kirishima looks at the floor. “If it’s okay, I’d like the chance to apologize to you for everything.” Kirishima takes in a breath. “I already talked to Tetsutetsu and my moms. And I really would like to make things right with you too.” 

Kaminari looks over him coldly, “You have however long it takes for me to get to the train station and for my train to come.”

That was more than Kirishima could have hoped for. “Thank you.”

Kaminari brushes past him, bumping Kirishima’s shoulder forcefully, “Your clock is ticking.” Kaminari walks at a brisk pace, clearly trying to be as fast as possible. 

Honestly, Kirishima would love nothing more than to just break down and tell Kaminari the truth. Kirishima had told Kaminari everything, more than anyone else. Holding back something this big was almost impossible. 

“I don’t want to make excuses. Anything I say probably won’t make any sense. But, I’ll be honest with you. I don’t even remember what I did. I know it was prob—”

“Oh that’s perfect. How convenient. You ‘can’t remember’ what you did. That makes it so much fucking better.” Kaminari stays a few paces in front of Kirishima. 

“No! That makes it so much worse. It makes me sick to my stomach knowing that I did something awful, but that I don’t know what it is. If there’s any way to make it right. I think knowing… knowing would be a blessing.”

“Oh?” Kaminari swivels around suddenly, causing Kirishima to stumble over himself. “You want a blessing? I can tell you exactly what you did you fucking asshole.”

Kaminari throws his hands in the air. 

“Maybe I should be giving you some kind of break because you were probably in some kind of breakdown but honestly screw that because nothing justifies what you did. You want to remember?”

Kirishima isn’t sure that he wants to ‘remember.’ But he needs to know.  

“You finally came to the hospital after all those weeks. Which was an asshole move all on its own. And when you get there? And you see Tetsutetsu? You want to remember the first thing you said to him?”

“‘It would have been better if you actually died.’ 

I don’t know what the hell kind of breakdown makes someone say that to their friend, but the worst part about it? That wasn’t even the end. No.”

Fuck, of course Blood Riot did more. 

“As soon as the nurses left, you fucking went to the machines that Tetsutetsu was hooked up to—you know, the things keeping him alive. You started to fucking unplug the machines, trying to kill Tetsutetsu or something.” 

Kirishima can’t believe that Blood Riot would do this. He can, but it’s just so unnecessarily cruel and malicious. Which actually makes sense, but Kirishima can’t even picture his own body doing that to his best friends. Or anyone. 

“It was the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen.” Kaminari stops talking, breathing heavily. “So fucking remember that. I think we’re done here.” He turns back around and resumes his quick pace. 

Kirishima stands still for a second. But the truth is, he knows Blood Riot did so much worse. Like actually murdering people. And thinking about that still makes him want to disintegrate. 

So all he can do is beat Blood Riot by living his life as best as he could. By undoing as much damage as he could. 

“Kaminari, wait!” Kirishima sprints to catch up with him. 

“You still have something to say?”

“The things I did, they were unimaginably horrible. And the only real explanation I can give is that it wasn’t really me. I could never, I would never. And I will spend however long it takes trying to make it up to all of you. I’ll be better.”

It’s a half-baked apology, but all Kirishima wants right now is a foot in the door. 

Kaminari stops for a second, “I’ll think about it.” He takes out his phone and pulls up Kirishima’s contact. “Next time, text me instead of showing up at my door.” He walks away after that, before Kirishima can say anything else. 

But he’d unblocked Kirishima’s number. The door wasn’t locked. 

Kirishima could work with that. 

The next few weeks, Kirishima spends all his time either mending his fractured relationships or trying to get his life in order. 

It hurts, not being able to talk to his friends like before. And it hurts even more because his heart was still in a million little pieces. He misses Bakugou so much. 

But he manages to find a job that he can work during the day while he goes to EMT classes in the night time. He visits Tetsutetsu three times a week, and sometimes if Kaminari is there too, he doesn’t immediately leave. 

It’s tiring, but he can feel the world starting to be a little better. Things falling into a new routine.

He still misses Bakugou. 

He had thought that maybe the ache would be a little less after the two month mark, but he still found himself intentionally missing his stop so he could go and stare at the empty space in the world where Bakugou should be. 

He never looks up if there’s a Bakugou Katsuki in this world. What was the point? It wouldn’t be his Bakugou. And if he himself had been so different in another world, what were the chances that Bakugou would be exactly the same. 

And even if he were similar…

Then, one day he’s making another trip to look at the place where Bakugou’s agency is. 

And he’s a little distracted; Kaminari is finally starting to text Kirishima more—like they used to do. 

So he’s looking at his phone when he rams his shoulder into someone else on the sidewalk. 

He immediately feels guilty because, if his shoulder was hurting from it, the other person probably wasn’t feeling great either. 

He’s turning to apologize to this person, but when he sees them. He freezes—he can’t breathe. 

He sees blonde hair, red eyes. A face he thought he’d never see again. 

Kirishima isn’t sure if it’s even real.  Maybe he was dreaming again. Maybe he’d finally hit his breaking point somewhere along the line and he hadn’t even realized it. 

He has no idea how long he stands there staring into the familiar red eyes. 

But how could it be Bakugou? Maybe there was one of him in this universe. What is he supposed to say? What should he do? Should he just apologize and move on? Or try to...

Before Kirishima has to make a choice about how to break the silence, his thoughts are cut off.

“Just going to stand there and stare all day Shitty Hair?” 

And Kirishima thinks he might explode. His voice. The familiar nickname. It’s impossible. No. He doesn’t want to let himself hope. But he can’t stop himself, “Bakugou?”

“What? Only been a few months and you already forget my name?” Bakugou looks like he’s trying to smirk, but he only ends up smiling. 

Kirishima knows he’s dreaming. He has to be. “How? This can’t be real. It’s a dream.” But his heart is racing, he can feel it pounding away in his chest. And he can feel his hands shaking. It feels real. 

Bakugou’s smile is even better than he had remembered. A hesitant smile forms on Kirishima’s face in response. 

Bakugou takes a step forward, “Oh I’m plenty fucking real. And it took me a long time to get here, so it better not be some dream.”

Kirishima moves forward too. He stretches his hand out to touch Bakugou, just to make sure he wouldn’t disappear in a cloud of smoke. 

His hand makes contact with Bakugou’s shoulder. And with that confirmation, Kirishima wastes no time in wrapping his arms around Bakugou’s neck and pulling him close for a hug. 

Bakugou doesn’t hesitate for a second in hugging Kirishima back. 

And they stay there like that for a while. Just holding each other, and finally Kirishima feels like he’s home. 

But Kirishima has a lot of questions, so he pulls back a little bit. “I can’t believe you’re here!” Once Kirishima starts talking, he can’t seem to stop. “How did you get here? What are you doing here? How is everyone back there? How are you?”

Bakugou laughs. “Jesus fuck you really are just going to ask every question possible. Pick one you want the answer to first.” 

To just pick one, seems impossible. But he goes with his instinct. “What are you doing here? Why?”

“Okay technically that’s two questions. But I’m here because… Fuck I needed a fresh start. That whole entire goddamn world was a reminder of every mistake I made and the person that I had let myself become because of it all.”

“And your fresh start led you… here?” Kirishima didn’t want to question it because, well, this was all he could have ever asked for. But he had to be sure. 

“I didn’t want to stay there. I knew that. I mean I was number one and for what? What did I really have? “I let all of it consume me.” Bakugou looks down at the ground. 

“Being a hero was amazing, but there’s more than one way to be a hero. You showed me that.”

Kirishima can’t hold back his smile. What’s the point of holding back at this point? His eyes start to sting, but for once that feeling isn’t unwelcome. 

“So,” Bakugou adds, “I figured why not head to a place that’s kind of familiar, where I might know someone who wouldn’t mind showing me around.”

“And how? How are you here?” Kirishima places a gentle hand on Bakugou’s cheek. He still hasn’t gotten over the shock of it all. 

“Well, thank fuck I come from a universe with some weirdass quirks. Wasn’t easy, but I found some people who had dimensional quirks. A few of them were down right useless. But one person actually had a useful quirk for me.”

“Wait. Did you mind swap with another Bakugou?” Honestly, that didn’t seem like a reasonable solution. Not after all the mess that they had been through. 

Bakugou smirks, “Nope. This is all me.” He holds up a hand and creates a small explosion in the palm of his hand. “Can’t wait to see what kind of trouble I can get into over here.”

And Kirishima laughs. Because it’s him. And he’s here. Leaning forward, Kirishima rests his forehead on Bakugous. 

But there’s one more question pressing on Kirishima’s mind. The question that has haunted him since the beginning of this whole ordeal. “What about Blood Riot?”

“Him? Fuck that bastard. There’s a world full of heroes—that is not my goddamn responsibility. Let everyone else deal with that fucker for once.” 

Kirishima nods slightly. Bakugou was right as always. 

Bakugou tilts his head forward a little, bringing their faces even closer together. “Is that your last question?” 

Kirishima can feel Bakugou’s breath on his lips. He leans in just a little closer. “Yeah, that’s all I can think of right now.”

“Good.” Bakugou pushes forward, breaching the small space between them. 

Kirishima and Bakugou stand there for a bit. Kissing on the sidewalk in front of where Bakugou’s agency would have been. 

When they break apart, they’re both smiling like idiots. 

Bakugou laces their hands together, and they start walking along the sidewalk. 

“So. You going to show me around? Or are you just going to make me stand in this one spot.”

“Oh, yeah! There are actually a few places I’ve been thinking that you’d really like.”

“Alright, better be good though, or I’ll have to find a new tour guide. Maybe one with less shitty hair.” 

“Ha, as if! I’m going to be the best tour guide ever. With the best hair ever.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you will be. Well—except for the hair part.” 

Chapter Text

HI! 

i am returned! WITH! 

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1glZGeOKPckVwMSy1SDYjYeiXhOybhgWY/view?usp=sharing

a revised edition of the story (grammar and general prose: much improved) 

sorry! not a new chapter! but... i recommend you check it out ;) 

feel free to print it, eat it, use it for kindling, throw it into the ocean, what have u!

love y'all