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The sound of heavy rain pounding against the glass of the balcony door drowns out the soft hum of Eijirou's playlist as he stares at the bright red numbers of his alarm clock. Its 2 AM now, and Eijirou has been laying in the same position for two hours, waiting for sleep to finally come so he could go numb for just a few hours. Sleep has yet to come, obviously, and Eijirou is starting to feel restless as his mind continues to attack itself with no sign of reprieve. He needs to get up and get out of his head, for a second at least, and if he can’t find the peace of unconsciousness, he just has to do something to occupy his conscious thoughts.
With an exhausted groan, Eijirou sits up and gets out of bed. He goes to grab his binder, but then remembers its ass crack o clock and no one but him is up right now. Just in case, and for his own comfort, Eijirou does change from the tank top he was wearing to a much looser and less revealing FatGum tee-shirt. It’s one of his favorites, given to him on his birthday from Bakugou. The blonde had scoffed when Eijirou professed his gratitude, saying it was just pay back for the gift Eijirou had given him on his own birthday. Eijirou had just smiled and accepted his friend’s excuse, knowing if he pushed Bakugou would get flustered and upset. Thinking of them blond makes Eijirou smile a bit before it turns sad and bitter. The intrusive thoughts Eijirou had been trying to escape come back ten-fold, and localized on one subject.
Rubbing his eyes roughly, Eijirou pulls on the shirt and walks out of his room, going down stairs. As he draws nearer to the common areas, Eijirou notices the kitchen light on. Did Iida forget to check that everything was off? He had insisted it be his responsibility as the class rep, but everybody makes mistakes. Still, Iida will probably be upset if he wakes up and realizes the light had been on all night, so Eijirou figures he’ll just go ahead a shut it off, no harm no foul. Then he can go for a walk and clear his head, maybe get himself tired enough get at least a few hours of shut eye. When Eijirou enters the kitchen, though, he realizes Iida hadn’t missed the light. Sitting at the table was one Mr. Bakugou Katsuki, nursing a cup of tea and staring blankly at the wall in front of him.
‘Speak of the devil, I guess.’ Eijirou thinks. Clearing his throat in the hopes of not scaring the explosive blond, Eijirou moves further into the kitchen. The sound doesn’t seem to faze Bakugou though, so Eijirou tries again, louder. Still no response.
‘Did he fall asleep with his eyes open?’ Eijirou wonders, getting closer to the blond.
“Hey.” He says softly, putting a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder. The blond startles, his head whipping to look at Eijirou and gripping the redhead's hand tightly. A beat passes where they just stare into each other’s eyes, before Bakugou relaxes and lets Eijirou’s hand go, dropping his own back onto the table. Bakugou turns his head down to stare at his tea, probably cold given the lack of steam and how chilly it felt in the kitchen.
“What are you doing up?” Bakugou asks quietly. His voice sounds strained, and it causes something with in Eijirou to fall out of sync. Bakugou isn’t someone Eijirou ever expected to sound so– weak. Not in the sense of strength, but just…tired. Drained.
“I– couldn’t sleep.” Eijirou responds hesitantly, sitting down as well. The sound of rain is quieter down here, muffled, but it still drums against Eijirou’s skull as silence fills the room. There’s an overwhelming sense of something off keeping Eijirou’s mouth shut. His throat feels tight and dry and there are so many words buzzing around in his head but none of them are something he wants to voice out loud. Minutes, or maybe hours, drag by as the awkward silence continues. Bakugou’s eyes stay trained on his tea and Eijirou’s are locked on his own hands, twisting and fidgeting around one another.
“Are you…okay?” Eijirou finally– finally– says, daring to look at his friend. Bakugou scoffs, bringing a hand up to scrub across his face in a way the tells of a soul weighed down by things a teenager shouldn’t have to carry. It’s sad, sometimes Eijirou forgets that they’re only children.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been okay, Kirishima.” Bakugou replies and it’s a sentiment Eijirou can relate to. He isn’t even sure he knows what ‘okay' might be.
“I had a nightmare.” Bakugou continues, picking up his mug and taking a sip. He cringes, confirming what Eijirou had thought about it being cold. The blond stands up and goes to the sink, pouring his drink down the drain. He doesn’t turn back around, just grips the edge of sink tight enough Eijirou is surprised it doesn’t crack.
“Before school started, there was this…thing. Some kind of shitty slime quirk villain. It grabbed me and was trying to– to fucking kill me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even use my quirk. The explosions just got absorbed into the slime. There were, fuck, at least five heroes just standing around trying to figure out what to do, and I was fucking suffocating while those assholes hesitated.” Eijirou watches as Bakugou’s shoulders grow more and more tense as he tells his story. Bakugou slams his fist down on the counter. Eijirou can just barely see Bakugou’s jaw clench as he grinds his teeth.
“Deku– fucking Deku– didn’t even have his goddamn quirk yet. As far as anyone was concerned, he was just some weak, quirkless nobody. While all those heroes stood back and tried to come up with a plan that fucker just runs in and starts– clawing at the son of a bitch, screaming my name and demanding the villain let me go. If it weren’t for All Might, we both would have probably died, but the asshole didn’t give a fuck about his own life if it meant saving someone.” Bakugou is seething now, somehow whisper yelling. Eijirou flinches a little when Bakugou growls, pushing off of the counter and turning to look Eijirou in the eyes. Its startling, to see the tears in Bakugou’s eyes.
“Even the asshole that told him to kill himself not even half a day before hand!” Bakugou cries, though still not loud enough to alert anyone upstairs. Still, regardless of the volume, the anguish in Bakugou’s voice is palpable.
Eijirou moves without thinking, getting up and pulling his friend into a tight hug. The blond slouches again him as all the tension dissolves. Seconds pass before Eijirou feels Bakugou’s body begin to shake with sobs, and Eijirou grips him even tighter. His own issues a shoved to the back burner as Eijirou tries to be the rock his friend needs. Selfishly, Eijirou is glad for the distraction from his own self destruction. For now, he can forget the feelings of worthlessness and self-loathing, the overwhelming fear if being outed to the world, the debilitating sense of imposter syndrome he gets when he looks in the mirror. All Eijirou needs to do right now is be there for his friend, his problems can wait another day.