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Katsuki is going to get destroyed at remedial practice after that godawful shitshow.
He’s been a mess of emotions recently, only because someone insisted that he learn how to emote something beyond anger and irritation. He feels things like affection and, even worse, camaraderie, for his classmates. Cohorts. Future coworkers. He still tells them to shut the fuck up, but it’s more habit than anything at this point, with little to no fire as Pinky makes a joke about his bedhead or Class Prez comments on his tardiness.
The worst thing, though, is the way his chest has started to feel fluttery whenever Shitty Hair comes to his defense, or does anything even vaguely nice for him.
And now he’s fucked it up and he thinks he’s dying.
He could’ve been faster, could’ve easily caught his hand the same way he had at Kamino Ward, but he’d been too focused on the objective to help.
After Kirishima had fallen to the ground from far too high, all Katsuki could do was blow things up and scream. He completed the objective, although sloppily even by his own standards of “sloppy”.
He’s been blowing things up in the gym while everyone else sleeps as though their hearts aren’t on the verge of stopping.
Except someone else just came in the gym, and he screams “what the fuck” before realizing it’s just Round Face and her stupid pink boxing gloves around her neck, sports bra and shorts also obnoxiously colored.
“Can’t sleep,” she says, as though he’s asking for a reason, and she sticks to the dummies on the adjacent wall to him, and he watches her methodically move against the still figure.
She’s much more controlled than when they’d first met.
She pauses, only to turn to him and smirk. “Impressed?”
He scowls. “In your dreams.” He turns back to his wall of targets, and tries focusing on hitting them with small blasts. It’s useless, he’s distracted by the rhythmic smacks of the boxing dummy. He hadn’t brought headphones because he’d been sure that everyone was asleep.
“I was chosen as the delegate this time,” she tells him, not looking away from the dummy. “Wanna do this?”
“Do what.” He can’t help but watch her, drawn in by her stance. It looks good, like she’s been doing it for a while. Maybe she has. He wouldn’t know. She’s part of Deku’s crew, which includes Class Prez and Half-n-half. Someone decided there were lines drawn between their crews, but they were permeable lines, and so sometimes she ended up with his crew.
He respects her for her strength and perseverance.
She turns to face him, taking off her gloves. “Fight me.”
He blinks. He supposes it was inevitable, that she would want to try and beat him. “Fine.”
So he squares up against her, and for a split second feels guilty before remembering their fight as first years. She’d almost gotten him. She might be short, but she’s stocky and could definitely crush a human skull between her thighs.
He’s only aware of this because Pikachu and Pinky had placed a bet and Round Face had found a watermelon to crush, and she did, which led to everyone else trying to do it, which led to a week of detention for everyone involved, except Round Face because she’d bought the watermelon and simply took a video to post on Instagram.
“What’re you waiting on?” She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, and he makes the first lunge, trying to see if he can catch her off guard. She’s nimble, too: she dodges and counters with a left hook.
They go like that for a while, neither of them getting a hit in until she starts egging him. Simple shit, like insults and normal fighting words, but what makes him fumble, and gives her an opening to slam him into the ground, is a simple statement.
“You’re not strong enough to protect him and the world, you know.”
It’s over in a split second, with her knocking him on his back and pinning his hands above his head.
“What the fuck, that was dirty—“
“Fucking listen to me,” she tells him, voice low, and he has to respect her since she did pin him. Also, he’s never heard her swear before. “You can’t. No one is strong enough to do both at the same time.” Brown eyes meet with his, and they’re hard. Much harder than he’s ever seen from her. “You have to choose. And as a hero, you have to pick the goddamn world. This is the one fucking thing you can’t be selfish about. He knew what he was getting into. He trusts you to make the right fucking decision, and he would be so disappointed if he knew you picked him over the objective.”
She takes a deep breath, and her expression softens. “Love is hard, Bakugo. But you love a hero, and you both know where your priorities lie. Trust me, I know.” And her grip eases up from his wrists, and she sits back but doesn’t get off of him.
“I didn’t ask for a fucking lecture.” He stares at the ceiling, recalling her words, and piecing it together.
She’s in love with Deku, but hasn’t done anything about it. He’s known, and asked the girls why she’s being stupid about it, but they’re all cryptic and secretive about it. It makes sense now. It’d be stupid to say it out loud, so he talks around it.
“It’s stupid.” What, specifically, is stupid, is left unsaid. She’s good at reading people.
“Love makes us all stupid, but we have to be smarter than our feelings.”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
She laughs, an ugly chortle. “I said that I was delegated to deal with you. Your whole squad knows how bad at emotions you are, and figured I’d be the best to help. Especially since I’m the only one with first-hand knowledge and the only one who can take you down that you’ll listen to.”
He’s not that transparent. Is he? “What.”
“But the girls won’t share. All the boys are too dense anyway.”
They are fairly stupid. “If you fucking say so.”
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He rolls his eyes. “I have to make the right decision.”
She beams at him, and it’s annoying. “Good. I’m really tired. Since you know now, I’m heading out.” She finally crawls off of him.
“That was fucking it?” He yells as she retrieves her gloves and bolts from the gym. “What the fuck.”
**
Kirishima is fine. A small concussion, but nothing serious. He still has to miss class for a day, and needs someone to make sure he doesn’t sleep too long, and he’s specifically requested Katsuki for the task.
“I trust you, bro,” Shitty Hair had said when Bakugo had complained about it.
And it hits hard, especially in regards to Round Face’s words. He trusts Katsuki to make the right choices.
He takes a deep breath. “You’re stupid to trust me.”
“Huh?”
“I was trying to catch you.”
Kirishima blinks. “It’s okay that you didn’t. I’m okay.” And he reaches to pat Katsuki’s hand, and he forgets how soft his hands are.
“But I was willing to sabotage the mission to do it.” He was going to let go of the rope.
Kirishima sighs. “But you didn’t.”
“I couldn’t get to you in time, which is why I didn’t let go, but if I had—“
Kirishima grabs his hand. “But you didn’t. And it’s not real life. You learned, yeah?”
Katsuki blinks. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
He looks sheepish. “Well, you have to put everything else before yourself when you’re a hero. You can’t act on feelings. Just what’s best for the rest of humanity.”
He narrows his eyes. “Did fucking Round Face talk to you?”
Kirishima looks away. “No,” he says, but it’s not confident.
“God, fuck everyone and their incessant meddling.”
“I just want you to know that, had I been in the situation you were in, I would’ve let you fall. I’d be mad at myself about it, and wish I could’ve done both, but you ended up making the right decision.”
It’s quiet, much quieter than Katsuki is used to hearing from his—whatever Kirishima is to him. They’re still fuddling their way though that. “I’m gonna get strong enough to do both next time.”
Kirishima smiles. “Good. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“But I’d pick you second, after the world, if I have to choose.”
He laughs. “Okay.”
“But I won’t have to, because I’ll be the best, and I’ll save everyone.” And Katsuki turns his hand over and lets Kirishima lay his fingers between his own.
It’s stupid, but his chest flutters, and he welcomes it this time.