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Bakugou didn’t think he would cry when he returned home.
He’d had a hectic few days leading up to his departure of the United States, and while it was definitely nice to be back in Tokyo, he was quite frankly exhausted. The most he allowed himself was a sigh of relief that escaped his lips when the plane touched down, and then he was on the go once more.
He waited with hunched shoulders at the baggage claim, hood up and mask on, trying his best to stifle the yawns wracking his body. The last thing Bakugou wanted was to be approached by a fan or journalist after a twelve hour flight. He’d made damn well sure that news of his return to Japan wasn’t going to be released until after he was settled in, and he was intent on keeping it that way.
(He was so tired he almost missed his suitcase when it went past him, but jolted into action and snatched it up once his brain registered what he was looking at.)
While he hadn’t been back to visit in over a year, Bakugou found he still knew his way around Haneda Airport pretty well, so he headed off in the direction he knew he needed to go with his head down.
If it weren’t for Kaminari’s loud mouth, he probably would have missed them.
“His flight landed like half an hour ago! Where is he?”
The familiar tone made Bakugou halt in his tracks.
He looked up so quickly he very nearly gave himself whiplash, frantically scanning the area for the source of a voice he hadn’t heard in many months. A voice he often complained was annoying, but would never admit he was actually fond of.
There.
There, standing in a group just on the other side of a row of chairs with eyes locked intensely towards the baggage claim, were his four idiot friends.
“Oh my god, guys, what if we missed him?” Kaminari was saying loudly, fidgeting anxiously with the zip on his jacket.
Like they had no regard for their status as pro heroes, Bakugou noted the bright clothing and lack of face coverings they were wearing. There was even a sign in Sero’s hands, and though it was mostly angled away from him, he could see the glitter from where he was standing.
A grin broke out across Bakugou’s face, and he pushed the mask down to sit under his chin so he could call out to them.
“You probably fucking would have since you didn’t even tell me you were coming, idiots.”
Four sets of eyes turned towards him, and Bakugou barely had time to process and wince at the unholy screech Ashido let out before she’d gracefully leapt over the chairs and into his arms.
He staggered under her weight but kept them both upright, arms squeezing tightly around her waist and eyes shut against the fluffy pink hair in his face. “Bakugou, Bakugou, Bakugou!” she chanted excitedly in his ear, and something settled in Bakugou’s chest at the sound.
“Save some of him for us, Mina!” Kaminari’s voice chimed in, and another pair of arms wrapped around the both of them from the side. They were definitely making a scene at this point, but Bakugou couldn’t really bring himself to care.
“Fuck, you’re morons,” he scoffed, and was surprised to find his voice a bit choked up.
“It’s good to have you back, Blasty,” Kaminari chuckled in his ear.
The two of them stepped back, Ashido simultaneously giggling and wiping tears from her face, Kaminari keeping one hand on Bakugou’s elbow like he could disappear at a moment’s notice. Over their shoulders, Bakugou finally got a good look at the poster Sero was now holding up for him to see, and promptly doubled over in laughter.
“None of you have improved in arts and crafts while I was away,” he joked.
It was a shocking thing, clashing orange, red, and green letters so vibrant they were almost neon, spelling out a sweet message that was immediately offset with the copious amounts of dick-shaped glitter and sequins splattered all over the poster.
“I take offence to that,” Sero protested as he handed the poster off to Ashido so he could give Bakugou his own hug. It was less crushing than the others’, but Bakugou realised with a start that he was craning his neck to rest his chin on Sero’s shoulder.
“Shit, you’ve grown again, Soy Sauce,” he commented.
“I actually think you just got shorter when you were in America,” Sero replied with a lazy smirk.
Bakugou rolled his eyes, but he knew he was smiling too. “Tch, fuck off.”
The group fell silent then, exchanging looks Bakugou couldn’t decipher, and Sero stepped to the side.
Bakugou’s eyes landed on Kirishima, who was standing back and patiently waiting his turn. His lips were quirked upward, but Bakugou could spot the tension in his shoulders from a mile away.
Where the others had come to him with gusto, Bakugou instead found himself walking forward the few steps to tentatively approach Kirishima.
“Hi,” Kirishima whispered when Bakugou was a foot away.
Bakugou’s eyes roamed Kirishima’s face. And fuck, grainy video calls for a year could never do him justice. The cut of his jawline, the flush of his cheeks, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. The warmth in his gaze.
"Hi," Bakugou whispered back.
And like a dam breaking, Kirishima jerked forward and suddenly Bakugou was being swept up into strong arms and breathing in a scent he knew so well but had almost forgotten about.
All at once, the sensations hit Bakugou with a force so powerful it knocked the wind from his lungs. Familiarity, comfort, belonging. Kirishima hugged him tightly, a solid rock in a sea of people at a crowded airport, and Bakugou felt his heart swell and his eyes sting.
He was home.
There was no noise other than their two heartbeats pounding in time. Bakugou breathed in deeply, letting nothing but Kirishima Kirishima flood his senses for a moment longer, before the two of them let go at the same time.
“Welcome back,” Kirishima spoke quietly into the fragile air between them, all tension vanished from his stance now.
Bakugou blinked tears from his eyes and huffed a wet laugh. “Thanks.”
“Aww, are you crying, Blasty?” Kaminari cooed, stepping in and crowding his vision.
“Fuck off, Dunce Face, I’m just tired,” Bakugou snapped and half-heartedly batted him away.
Kaminari merely swooped right back in, throwing an arm over Bakugou’s shoulders. “Not too tired to hang out with us I hope, because we’ve got a lot to catch up on!”
Bakugou drank in the sight of their faces, these people that he hadn’t seen in over a year since he travelled to the States for work experience. There was a new tattoo peeking out from the edge of Kirishima’s sleeve, and a fresh scar sat just over Sero’s left eyebrow, and Ashido had been growing her hair out, and Kaminari’s wedding ring glinted when it caught the light in Bakugou’s peripheral. There had to have been so many memories made without him while he was gone, but here they stood in front of Bakugou now - his friends, his family - with wide smiles and open arms, as if nothing had changed.
Bakugou swallowed thickly. “No, of course not.”
The group of them started to walk the way Bakugou was initially going, everyone talking a mile a minute and jumping to speak over each other at any given opportunity to fill Bakugou in.
Kirishima was now carrying Bakugou’s suitcase and he made sure to catch the redhead’s eye at one point, exchanging small smiles. He knew they were going to talk later, just the two of them. Probably late at night, once the others had fallen asleep, limbs tangled together under a blanket on the couch, breathing in the same air and whispering soft words — just like they used to almost every night before Bakugou left.
Bakugou was looking forward to it.
WELCOME HOME, BAKUGOU!!!! WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!!