Chapter Text
[Here is the link to a Bakugo character playlist I will be getting all my chapter titles from!]
Eijiro Kirishima was going to be a new man. He would be outgoing, courageous, and noble. He’d emulate Crimson Riot in every way. With his new hair and new attitude, and after passing that insane entrance exam, there was nothing he couldn’t do.
Ashido being in his class was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, he already knew someone, which was always a plus in a new school. Having her to emulate was helpful. She had a natural confidence he coveted so deeply. As much as he appreciated her presence, she was a constant reminder of who he used to be. But he’d never be that guy again. This was the new and improved Eijiro. The to-be sturdy hero: Red Riot.
The first day of class, he came in 8th place in the quirk apprehension test. That wasn’t too bad if you considered how few practical applications his quirk had. The top there were Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, and Bakugo.
Bakugo’s attitude during that first test set the mood for the entire class. Everything about him screamed flash and power. Eijiro watched him carefully as he approached every assessment like it was a matter of life and death. He admired that tenacity.
“So manly…” He whispered under his breath. The tall boy with the crazy round elbows gave him a funny look.
That was the first time he encountered Katsuki Bakugo. It seemed to Eijiro like it couldn’t have been the first time they’d met, but he assumed that was just Bakugo’s presence, that just watching him gave such an impression that you would think you’ve been watching him forever.
From that point on, Eijiro remained almost captivated by him. He wasn’t sure how anyone couldn’t be. Bakugo acted like he owned every space he existed in. He swore and swaggered and insisted he would be number one. He had adopted a very effective aura of “stay back.” From his purposefully ill-fitting uniform to his manner of speaking, everything about him was a calculated level of harsh.
Eijiro had always been good at reading people. At observing without being noticed. So within the first few weeks, he knew that when he thought people weren’t looking, Bakugo’s expression wasn’t as angry. That when he focused, he would sometimes hold his tongue lightly between his teeth. He noticed that knew the answer immediately whenever he was called on, but he never raised his hand. He knew that Bakugo preferred to eat alone, and that it always looked like the exact same lunch.
Before he learned those things, Eijiro nearly was afraid of him. The way he acted toward Midoriya, he could see that there was something deep and vicious between them.
On the second day of class, Eijiro watched the villain simulation from the safe room. On the silent screen, he saw the way both of their eyes shone with the same passion, the same drive. Bakugo’s red eyes looked liquid, an angry fire burning in him. The student next to him was mumbling something about Bakugo being animalistic, but he didn’t agree. Every movement of Bakugo’s was wild and powerful, but calculated. The way he could propel himself through the air using his explosions was incredible.
The two were screaming at each other. Between Mr. Aizawa having to restrain him yesterday and the raw emotion of this fight, there had to be something in their past to cause that tension. In the safe room, it was strangely silent, everyone taking in the scene, making their own theories. Eijiro tried to read lips, but the resolution on the screen was too low.
It was then he realized that Midoriya wasn’t using his quirk, just fighting him head on. That was it, wasn’t it? Eijiro pulled at the skin of his bottom lip. Bakugo was pissed that Midoriya wouldn’t go all out. The apprehension he felt towards Bakugo shifted. His expression, however violent, also seemed desperate. He was hurt. They knew each other before, and now he wouldn’t fight him using his quirk. Even if it did break his bones, someone with pride like he saw in Bakugo would take that as an insult. It made sense why he’d be so angry.
Eijiro was no expert, but this fight seemed like it was going too far. All Might seemed fine with it though. Bakugo was violent, but didn’t all of their goals involve that? They wanted to be heroes, they couldn’t shy away from that. It seemed like Bakugo embraced that, making it a core tenant of his expression.
Bakugo’s team lost the fight. Midoriya pulled a maneuver, breaking his arm to give them the opportunity. If it was a real fight, Eijiro thought that would be pretty manly, but it seemed pretty intense for the second day of class. They both took that really seriously, and not necessarily in the good way. Midoriya was carted off to heal with Recovery Girl, and the rest of the team rejoined them in the observation room.
Bakugo was fuming. Internally, something huge was happening with him. It was physically apparent. When someone feels that level of emotion, everyone else tends to avert their eyes. Eijiro didn’t. He saw flashes of disbelief, frustration, and anger flash across his face. He also saw pain. Bakugo looked like he was grieving. Eijiro felt cowardly, not moving to comfort him, but something, his intuition probably, told him that he would only make the situation worse.
So he watched from his peripherals as Bakugo stared at the screen, processing something Eijiro couldn’t begin to understand. But he wanted to. He wanted to know why there was such pain and anger radiating from that boy. It was the second day of school, and he made the firm decision that he would figure out what Katsuki Bakugo tick.
Over the next few days, Eijiro realized that he had seen Bakugo before. He’d seen him on the news. It was back in middle school, before he’d had that wake-up call and reinvented himself. Bakugo had been attacked by that sludge villain. It said on the news that he’d almost been killed. Footage of him being choked by that villain was played over and over for more than a week. They reported all kinds of statistics for how long he was struggling in the slime. The average estimate seemed to be fifteen minutes, but Eijiro could recall one news station had reported he struggled for up to a half hour.
How long could he have held out against a villain like that? All those pro heroes were just standing there staring. How did he not lose his drive to survive? How did he not feel hopeless? That was the manliest thing Eijiro could think of. Bakugo was going to continue to fight until he couldn’t anymore. In the face of a hopeless, impossible task, he never gave that villain an inch he didn't fight like hell for. Even when the gross slime covered his nose and mouth, when he couldn’t breathe, he still struggled.
Midoriya had been on the news as well. He’d run in before All Might had stepped in. It was weird how he had never used his quirk. It must have been a risky distraction tactic. Man, he’d lucked out that All Might had been nearby. Maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly? With the way he called Bakugo, “Kacchan,” it was easy to see they’ve known each other for a while. Maybe Midoriya was just thinking like a hero.
Eijiro decided to keep his eye on both of them. If he was going to be anything like Crimson Riot, he’d have to observe the people around him that were sure to be great.
So he started to watch. Sometimes he couldn’t help himself. Mr. Aizawa’s deep voice was a monotone lul, teaching about hero laws or ethics or something complex he’d have to learn later. Eijiro wasn’t really sure what was being taught at the moment. His mind was occupied, eyes drifting to Bakugo.
Despite his appearance, Bakugo was one of the most dedicated students in the class. He wouldn’t wear his tie, wore his pants too baggy, and his hair was always unkempt. It wasn’t messy in the intentional way like his own spiked style, or Kaminari’s carefully constructed dishevelment. His hair sprung up at every angle but still retained it’s bounce. Sometimes the wind would blow his bangs back from his face. It made him look softer somehow.
Bakugo was almost always scowling. He contorted his face into sharp angles, even at rest. Eijiro could remember every time he’d seen his face at rest, and he’d committed the single time he’d seen him smile to memory.
Three days ago, after school, he’d stayed after to talk to the support course students about his costume. It had run long and the campus was nearly empty. A few feet from the gate of the school was Bakugo, leaning against the fence.
His eyes were closed, face pointed towards the sun. His posture was relaxed, cushioning his head with his hands. The slight breeze was blowing his hair back from his forehead. He looked peaceful. He looked beautiful. Eijiro wasn’t stupid, wasn’t straight, and he definetly wasn’t blind. Katsuki Bakugo was gorgeous even when trapped in a rage. But this Bakugo, with his face at rest, was breathtaking. The sun was illuminating his pale skin, dancing through his hair. His red eyes opened slowly and he blinked a few times, taking his phone from his pocket. Swiping across the screen, the side of his mouth ticked up in what was the first smile he’d ever seen grace Bakugo’s face. It wasn’t a wide smile, nothing close to a laugh, but it was the softest he’d ever seen him look. Eijiro didn’t say anything, he had the feeling Bakugo didn’t have many of these kinds of moments. He left through the other entrance to the school, letting him enjoy his moment of silence.
Eijiro shook himself back to reality. He had to stop zoning out in the middle of class like this. Maybe he could text Kaminari later and see what he’d gotten from the lecture. He and the electric boy had formed a quick bond. Their easygoing attitudes and outgoing personalities clicked quickly, forming a solid “bro-ship.” Very manly. Sometimes he wondered what Mina thought about his shift in personality, but he tried not to think about that too much.
So in his class, he had his old-but-new friendship with Mina and his growing one with Kaminari. He also figured out he did not like Mineta and tried to keep his distance. Iida was a great class rep, he handled the press breaking through the school’s defenses really well. Todoroki seemed really quiet, but most everyone else was nice enough. Well, except Bakugo, but he was a special case.
The class around him started to rise from their seats and get their hero costumes from the shelves. Well shit, looks like they were going somewhere. He went with the flow of students as they put on their costumes and piled on the bus. Eijiro did his best not to flush as he chimed into the conversation. He couldn’t stop himself from bringing up his stupid insecurities. Quickly, he shifted attention to the most impressive members of their class, Bakugo and Todoroki. While Bakugo fired off insults, Eijiro silently berated himself. Crimson Riot would never have those kinds of insecurities, let alone burden the people around him with them. Then again, Crimson Riot wouldn’t have had those in the first place. He had such a long way to go if he wanted to uphold his legacy.
They piled off the bus and he listened intently as Thirteen and Mr. Aizawa explained their training exercise. Thoughts began to run through Eijiro’s mind faster than he could track them. Where would he be most helpful? Who could he partner with? Would he just get in the way? No way could he go to the water zone, he’d sink. He stopped those thoughts in his tracks and focused his energy on listening to Thirteen speak.
Impossibly, a thick purple fog rose from nowhere. Eijiro tried to read the teacher’s body language. Was this part of the simulation? Body after body began walking out of that mist. This was real. These were villains. Villains who had no intentions to hold back. The class followed orders and turned to run when that smoke villain appeared in front of them. Bakugo started moving, and before he could even think, Eijiro moved with him. They lunged in unison towards the wall of smoke.
Eijiro felt like each of his atoms were dematerializing piece by piece. The time he was surrounded by that villain’s smoke must have only been seconds, but he felt them stretch on as each inch of his body was pulled from itself. There was no pain, but it was a strange sensation for his body to exist and not exist simultaneously. It felt like the first stretch after a long night of sleep extended beyond the mind’s capacity.
They landed hard on the sidewalk of an unfamiliar street. Scanning the scene, he saw what seemed like a regular city, but many of the buildings were crumbling. Debris fell regularly from blown out buildings, creating gaping holes and shaking the ground with loud crashes. Nothing looked entirely too stable. They must have been in the ruins zone that Thirteen was talking about.
“Fuck. I’ll kill that guy! Purple bastard,” Bakugo screamed next to him, body tense, “Come on, he’s going to die.” Bakugo began stalking down one of the streets.
“Uh… dude?” Eijiro tried to whisper, but had to be loud enough to hear. The reality of the situation they were in now sinking in. They could die. These people definitely wanted to kill them. What the hell? Why was this happening? Why now? Anxiety rose in Eijiro’s chest. He stopped moving. “We don’t know how many people they have here, or where they are. Maybe we should be careful.”
Because of his quirk, Eijiro was often compared to a rock. He didn’t particularly love that comparison. He was different now, not like he used to be, but his response when things got scary or hard was to freeze. He stayed in place, useless. Like a stupid rock.
“Don’t need to be careful when you know you’ll win.” Bakugo’s sharp eyes locked on his. He couldn’t will himself to break eye contact. There was no trace of fear there, Bakugo meant exactly what he said. Eijiro felt his joints unlock.
“That’s manly as hell, Bakugo!” A grin spread its way across his face, his sharp teeth fully on display.
“Shut it. Fucking come on, Hair-For-Brains.”
They started off down the road in earnest, unsure of what they were jogging toward. Ejiro was scanning the tops of the crumbling buildings when he smacked into Bakugo’s gauntlet. Ahead of them, more of that purple smoke was materializing. He could tell Bakugo was not about to back down from this fight. Confident as his companion was, Eijiro did not plan on dying today. Even if they could take out whoever was about to step out of that fog, there was no way of knowing where else they were being dropped off. They were endless as they poured in before they were teleported here.
“This way!” With hardened fingers, Eijiro grabbed Bakugo by the arm and sprinted into the nearby building.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you idiot!?” Bakugo yelled, struggling in his grip. “I’m not hiding!”
“We’re not hiding, dude, we’re planning. There’s a difference.” He spotted a staircase to their left, the office building he’d brought them into didn’t have as much structural damage as some of the buildings in this zone, they were lucky. “We need a vantage point. We need to know what we’re up against.”
Bakugo rolled his eyes and headed towards the stairs. Without looking at him he said, “Fine. You know I could take them alone, gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed or something. Vantage point is not a bad idea.” He was quieter than normal, but Bakugo by nature, didn’t speak softly. Eijiro heard his words perfectly.
They climbed the stairs in silence, the only sound the heavy clunk of their boots ricocheting off the walls and the distant crashes of rubble. These buildings were nearly empty, obviously just shells for the sake of training. They made their way to the roof. Looking out across the horizon they could see the other zones. What kind of danger were their classmates in there? What was happening to Mr. Aizawa? To Thirteen?
“Nothing. Bastards probably ran. Let’s get back to the door. I’m late to murdering that teleport freak.” Bakugo stalked off down the stairs. Unable to form a response, Eijiro followed in silence. As they made their way down the stairs, Eijiro paused, laying a hand lightly on Bakugo’s shoulder.
“Wha-” he started, but Eijiro quickly put his finger to his his lips.
“I think I hear something. Listen.” Eijro flicked his eyes around the staircase without focus, trying to pinpoint the noise. “I think I hear voices, but I’m not sure where.”
“They probably had the same idea. If we’re lucky, they don’t know how many of us got dropped here. We can get the drop on them and take those extras out. Then we find that warp gate asshole.” Bakugo rolled his shoulders and adjusted his gauntlet. “You ready for this, shitty hair?”
He made a noise of affirmation and nodded, pressing his fists together and hardening his arms. Eijiro had no way of telling what emotion was on his face, but Bakugo’s was unreadable. They made their way up the stairs and entered an empty hallway.
The muffled voices got louder as they quietly crept through the hall. Coming up on an opened door, Eijiro was finally able to make out snippets of words.
“-an’t believe All Might-” the shuffling of their feet overshadowed large parts of their conversation. “Boss will be so pissed.”
Eijiro stopped again. Those were real villains inside that room. Their goal in coming here was to kill All Might. All Might. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out slowly through his mouth. If he wanted to be a hero, he’d have to face villains eventually. But God, did this feel like a big step extremely quickly.
“You coming or not, Red?” Bakugo showed no signs of fear or anxiety. His posture was confident and there was an uptick to the corner of his mouth. He looked strong. His breathing was even, his chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm. Eijiro found himself staring at him, trying to take him in. In that moment, he was exactly the kind of man Eijiro idolized.
“On three.” Eijiro wouldn’t freeze. Not this time. “One,” They crept closer down the hallway. “Two,” This was whispered as they took position on each side of the open door. “Three” was mouthed, no sound passing through Eijiro’s lips as he held up three of his fingers.
“DIE!” Bakugo screamed, propelling himself into the room. Eijiro ran after him, hardening his skin around his vital organs on instinct. There were several villains inside. He felt his instinct kick in and hardened his arm, blocking an attack from his right side. Eijiro spun around with a yell, crashing his fist into the jaw of a woman whose hands were dripping what looked like honey, but he was sure absolutely should not come into contact with his skin.
They continued fighting, the room filling with smoke, dust, and the smell of blood. Somehow the villains had corralled them to the middle of the room and surrounded them. Back to back, Eijiro could hear Bakugo start to laugh.
“Did you really think a cheap tactic like this would work?” He could hear the smile in his voice. A similar one appeared on Eijiro’s face. “Pathetic.”