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“Hey, Shitty Hair, c’mere.” Bakugou called for Kirishima’s help from across the room, where he was trying to hang a Red Riot curtain over Kirishima’s balcony. Bakugou had bought it spontaneously for Kirishima, but Kirishima didn’t have a curtain rod that fit in them.
“Your hair is worse than mine, Bakugou.” Kirishima groans before standing and walking to the balcony.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you grab the other side?” Bakugou gestures to the end of the curtain rod sitting on his floor, which Kirishima picks up, but not without another complaint.
“You couldn’t do this yourself? You know what, you probably wouldn’t be able to.” Kirishima helps Bakugou hang the rod, and flattens the curtain against the balcony door.
“Dude, what’s your issue?”
“What are you talking about?” Kirishima turns to look at Bakugou, who seems to have lost his usual vigor and angst. Bakugou collapsed on the floor, seeming to shrink into the newly placed curtains.
“You’ve been coming at me for the past few days. My training, my schoolwork, even my fucking cooking. Is nothing I do good enough for you?”
Kirishima looks at Bakugou, and KNOWS the blonde wants to be comforted. He KNOWS he wants Kirishima to say “of course you’re good enough for me, Bakugou. You’re better than me!”. He knows that Bakugou wants him to go over there and hold him, like he always does, kiss his forehead, whisper soft apologies into his hair until he relaxes.
But what comes out his mouth is uncharacteristic of him.
“No. You’re not.”
“I- What?” Bakugou looks up at Kirishima, and for a moment, the room spins. Kirishima feels the swirling lift him off his feet, placing him down firmer than expected into his emotions.
“I said you’re not good enough for me, Bakugou. Did I stutter?” The heat in Kirishima’s eyes wasn’t something that Bakugou had even seen before.
It made him look possessed. Like he wasn’t himself anymore.
“Oh. Okay then.” Bakugou stands, almost slipping on the curtain before steadying himself against the wall. He walks past Kirishima, half expecting the redhead to grab his arm, tell him not to go.
But Kirishima didn’t move at all. He just stood there, hearing the door shut quietly as Bakugou returned to his own room. Kirishima gritted his teeth, before striding over to the curtains and tearing them down, throwing them across the room with a rage that he wasn’t prone to. The curtain rod bounces against the closet door, leaving a dent at the bottom. The curtain tangles around the edge of the bed, and Kirishima sighed when he turned around to look at it.
Something is wrong.
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Kirishima walks into Fatgum’s agency, throwing his bag on the floor. He walks over to Fatgum, wrapping his arms around him before screaming into his stomach.
“God, you too?” Fatgum encases Kirishima in his arms, the boy squirming to look up at Fatgum.
“What do you mean, me too?”
Fatgum gestures to the corner, when Amajiki was laying on the floor, wailing. Kirishima hadn’t heard it over his own internal narration.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Fatgum lets Kirishima go, sitting in his custom made chair as Kirishima launches into his tirade. Fatgum doesn’t hear everything Kirishima says, because he’s speaking much too fast.
But he gets the gist.
“Alright both of you, quiet down. Come here.” Fatgum points to the floor in front of him, and both Amajiki and Kirishima sit without much argument.
“Both of you are dealing with some pretty heavy self worth issues right now. Trust me, I have been where you two are. You’re doubting yourselves and your abilities. But can you tell me, what do you need to be good enough for?” Amajiki and Kirishima exchange glances, neither really understanding the question.
“I don’t get it.” Kirishima lays out on the floor, letting a breath out as Fatgum chuckles at his reaction.
“I’m asking why you don’t feel good enough. What isn’t good enough, and good enough for what? You say you aren’t good enough, but good enough to live? Good enough to be a hero? To deserve your friends and loved ones?” Fatgum’s line of questioning makes each boy start to consider their insecurities in a new light.
“I- I don’t know. I feel like everyone deserves much better than me.” Amajiki speaks first, his trademark whisper floating in the air, holding the silence in its grasp as Fatgum watches Kirishima for his response.
Kirishima doesn’t know what to say, because he feels the exact same way. He didn’t realize what his anger was stemming from until Amajiki brought it up. He didn’t measure up to what he wanted to.
“You both need to hear something that my mentor told me when I was struggling with the same thing. He said ‘You don’t need to be good enough; you only need to be good enough for you.’. You exist, and you’re alive; that’s good enough. You both want to be heroes, and that’s even better! But all you need to do is live, and be yourselves, and you will be good enough. Neither of you have to live up to any sort of standard or anything. It’s your life; the fact that you’re living it is good enough.”
Fatgum’s tone is soft, because he knows the words will have enough impact on their own. And sure enough, both boys sit up, wide eyed as they take in this new information.
“Now, I’m sure each of you have reacted to your insecurities in different ways. It is important to acknowledge this, especially with how your actions have impacted others.” Fatgum lets out a laugh as Amajiki flattens himself against the floor again, and Kirishima throws his head into his hands.
“It’s obvious that both of you have had some regrettable interactions recently. So, I’m going to cut you loose and let you rectify the situations yourselves. But that means when you come in tomorrow, it should be better. Or you at least TRIED to make it better. Now stop laying on the floor, it’s dirty.”
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Kirishima already knew where Bakugou was bound to be. Whenever he got overemotional, he hid in his room until Kirishima forced him to come out.
And this time was no different, as Kirishima took the stairs three at a time in his panic to reach Bakugou. He opened the door slowly, trying not to startle the blonde.
Bakugou was laying on his bed, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling.
“Get out.”
“Kat-”
“Don’t fucking call me that. Don’t you dare. You don’t have that privilege right now.”
“Seriously I-”
“No, you don’t get to make this about you, Kir. You HURT me. You fucking hurt me. Badly.” Bakugou doesn’t sit up, nor does he complain about Kirishima closing the door, stepping closer to the bed in order to better communicate with Bakugou.
“You’re...hurt?”
“Of course I’m fucking hurt, Kirishima. You fucking told me that I wasn’t good enough for you, and on top of that, it’s obviously something else that made you upset enough to say that, and you didn’t fucking tell me.” Kirishima approaches the bed, sitting on the edge and putting his elbows on his knees.
“I just...I dunno Kat, I just haven’t been feeling myself. Like worse than usual. I feel- I don’t know how to describe it, but I talked to Fatgum and Amajiki and I feel better. I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean it. I was just upset and didn’t know how to deal with it.
“So why didn’t you tell me?” Bakugou’s question sits starkly against Kirishima’s confession, the contrast making Kirishima pause.
“What do you mean?”
“You fucking took your anger out on me, Kir. Usually you come to me with this sort of thing, or at least let me come to you. I’m supposed to be like your person, and yet you went and talked to Fatgum and Amajiki? You’re supposed to be able to tell me anything. Do you not value my input anymore?” Bakugou sits up, rumpling the blanket as it gets stuck underneath Kirishima. He tugs at it a few times before giving up, flinging his legs out the sides to grant himself freedom.
“You know I value your input, man. I just, I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to bother you?”
“You know you’re not a goddamn bother Kirishima, so don’t start with that shit either. You very obviously don’t value my input as much as you say you do, because you pushed me away, and sought comfort from someone else when I was right here.” Bakugou thumps the bed as he says his last words, the force shaking Kirishima to his core.
“You know I value you, Katsuki.”
“Not as much as you claim to, because you said I wasn’t good enough for you.” Kirishima sighs before turning to face the blonde. His skin is patchy, colored with tinges of pink where tears had travelled, still damp.
“You know I didn’t mean it.”
“But you said it.” Bakugou repeats staunchly, practically spitting the words at Kirishima.
“I-”
“No, you said that. You said it, and you know how I get. Like why would you even consider saying that? I get that you’re angry; trust me, I understand. But I have never, not ONCE, insinuated that I didn’t value you when I was upset with you. Because your anger and your emotions don’t invalidate what you said to me, Kirishima.”
“I know that, man. But you know I didn’t mean it. I get carried away sometimes, and I need to work on that. But you know I care about you, Kat. Don’t act like I don’t.” Kirishima reaches out to take Bakugou’s hands, grimacing when Bakugou backs away from him.
“Do you really? Do you really care about me?”
“Why are you questioning this so hard?”
“I mean, I thought you did, I guess. And then you said I wasn’t good enough.”
“Oh my god, Kat, why are you stuck on this? Like, I said it, I didn’t mean it, and I apologized! I know it’s not something you get over that quickly but jeez.” Kirishima cries out, unable to stop his voice from raising in his frustration.
“Because I’ve NEVER felt good enough for you, Kirishima. Don’t fucking play dumb. You deserve the world, the stars, everything, and I can’t give that to you.”
“But bro, you are my world.” Kirishima thumbs the inside of Bakugou’s shin, the only place he can reach without Bakugou squirming away.
“Wha- Shut up. And cut that out. Just, fucking stop.” Trying to handle all the emotions that were welling up inside of him was too much of a task for Bakugou. Kirishima rubbing his fingers against his leg wasn’t helping.
“I’m serious. You are my world, Bakugou Katsuki. You are worth more to me, singularly, than everything else in the world combined. You could give me nothing, in fact, everything else could be taken from me, and I wouldn’t care. Because I would still have you. That’s all that matters. That’s all that’s ever mattered since we met.”
Bakugou can’t manage to face Kirishima. He knew, to some extent, what Kirishima had felt for him. But his own insecurities never allowed him to play this big a role in someone else’s life, at least from his view. So hearing Kirishima admit it, out loud, and know that he meant every single word, every syllable, did something to him that he didn’t know how to explain. It felt like his heart was fighting with his chest, desperately trying to escape.
“I don’t have anything to offer you.”
“Bro, you don’t have to offer me anything. At all. Ever. The fact that you exist, Kat, and that you’re alive, and that you chose me, out of everyone in our class, in our school, in the entire universe? Like, you could have had anyone, and yet you chose me as your #1. That’s all I care about man. Not your stupid exploding hands and your grades and anything else. You chose me. Willingly. That’s all I want. Just keep choosing me.”
“Then why did you say I’m not good enough for you?” Bakugou choked on his words, stumbling a bit before getting the last of it out. Kirishima groaned, pulling Bakugou by his legs until their forehead bump against each other.
“Listen, Kat. You are so much better than me. I WISH I could be good enough for you.” Bakugou tries to look anywhere but Kirishima’s eyes, but when he finishes talking, Bakugou makes eye contact, watching the heat from before swirling around before draining out.
“I swear to god I’ll fucking kill you. You’re better than me, Kir.” Both boys stare at each other, unwilling to break.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Not.”
“ARE.”
“NOT!”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Kir, you are! You are literally the most important thing in my entire life! If I had to choose between you and being #1, or even being a fucking hero, I would pick you, no hesitation! And I would never regret it for the rest of my life, because I would fucking have you!” Kirishima blinks, making Bakugou grin.
He knows he won.
“But, that’s been your dream, since you were a kid.”
“Yeah, well, now I have a new dream.”