Chapter Text
Katsuki wiped the sweat off his brow as he tugged the strap of his gym bag over his shoulder. He was the last one in the gym for the night so he switched off the lights as he left the room. The air outside was cool on his sweat-streaked skin as he walked slowly back to the UA dorms. Everything he did was slow lately. His feet dragged as he walked, his motivation was lacking, even his reaction time was slower. He knew he was falling behind, but he couldn’t get himself to snap out of it. It didn’t feel like his normal self and yet, he wasn’t doing anything to fix it.
Katsuki wanted to say that life went on as usual, but that would be a lie. Nothing was the same since that day. Classes continued, but the empty seat in the middle of the room was impossible to ignore. Training seemed monotonous, days were reduced to routines, and the dorms were quiet, dull, and dark. Even as he approached the building now, it looked deserted. The common room lights were off, the room was empty.
Bakugou unlocked the front door and stepped inside. His eyes glazed over the furniture but it looked like it was uninhabited. It might as well be, no one had spent more than 10 minutes there since the incident. Only weeks prior there would have been at least three of his idiot classmates hanging around, cooking food, laughing, arguing about what to watch on the tv, blasting music, playing games on Kaminari’s new Nintendo Switch. But it was void of all of that now; Bakugou wondered how long it would take to get that way again.
No, he decided after standing alone in the dark room. It wasn’t a matter of when, it was more of a fear that it would never be that way again.
He turned away and shuffled down the hallway to the elevators. He paused in front of the elevator doors without pressing the button. It’d been almost as long since he’d taken the elevator. He’d opted for the stairs every time since that day. It’d been too difficult to ride up to floor 4 by himself, too painful to walk past his door to get to Bakugou’s own bedroom. The stairs were on the other side of the hall, so Bakugou could quite literally avoid it all. But that was cowardly. Unmanly.
He sighed and pushed the up arrow and waited for the doors to ding and open wide for him to step inside. He watched the numbers at the top lower until a bold letter “G” lit up, signaling it was on the ground floor to collect Bakugou.
He stared at the empty car and thought about the last time he stepped foot inside.
Kirishima’d pulled him in after their morning run, his skin slick with sweat, it felt so long ago now. He’d had his damp shirt slung over his shoulder and when Bakugou stumbled in after him, he’d brushed up against his bare chest. His face had been so red, he’d refused to turn around to face him the entire ride up, then stalked into his room alone. It wasn’t long after that that they’d all been summoned via the school alarms that there’d been an intrusion and they needed to suit up.
He didn’t have Kirishima to pull him into the elevator car now, only his own will could do the trick. He breathed out as he stepped into the car like it was some big accomplishment. He pushed the button for floor 4 harshly and leaned against the side with his arms crossed tightly across his chest as the elevator slowly started.
He felt his heartbeat quicken as the numbers went up and he scowled to himself, alone in the silver box. If he looked closely enough, he could make out his reflection, but something was lacking in the familiar space next to him, so he looked away.
“Damn weakling,” he muttered to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets as the doors opened.
He stalked past Shoji's room first, with only a faint light coming from underneath; then Kirishima’s which was dark, and he felt his frown falter and his footsteps slow.
Damn it, he thought as he stopped in front of the name plate. He’d been afraid this would happen, and yet he couldn’t stop himself.
His eyes scanned over the familiar kanji like they’d have less meaning if he read the characters enough times, that maybe they wouldn’t make his heart sink into his chest any time he saw them paired together like that.
Kirishima Eijirou.
Bakugou stared at the closed door, the trees outside the window casted odd shadows across it. It was identical to his own door but it held so many more memories within. He spent a lot of nights in that room with Eijirou. Sometimes Kirishima’s friends would be there too, sometimes it would be just the two of them. Sometimes Bakugou helped him with homework, sometimes they didn’t do anything more than enjoy each other's company.
Katsuki was sure if he opened that door now he would see Kirishima’s uniform scattered across the floor, his sloppily made bed, his hand wraps and gloves draped across the top of that damned boxing bag that took up the majority of the space in his bedroom. He was sure he’d see an open literature textbook and a half-finished math worksheet with scribbles all over the margins, pencils with the erasers chewed, and uncapped pens scattering the desk. It would be like Eijirou never really left, that he was coming back someday because no one could bear to look inside. Katsuki knew he couldn’t. If he opened that door he was afraid that Kirishima’s spirit would escape and the room would really be empty — void of everything that kept Kirishima alive.
He couldn’t do it.
Eijirou’s parents seemed to have an equal but opposite philosophy regarding their son. They’d avoided the school entirely, they refused to come by and retrieve any of Eijirou’s belongings, refused to bring any sort of reminder of him back home. It was like they wanted to forget he existed at all. It made Katsuki sick.
He stared at Kirishima’s nameplate by his door once more before trudging past it. He paused with his hand shaking on his own door handle. Tears pricked in the corner of his eyes and his throat stung from holding it all back.
He should have taken the goddamn stairs.
------
Bakugou blinked the dust out of his eyes and squinted to see his surroundings. He could hear the laughter of the villain who’d put up the smokescreen between him and the rest of his classmates but he couldn’t see him at all. He didn’t even have a guess which direction he was in, the laughter seemed to echo infinitely around him. It was like the villain’d simply dissipated into the smoke. Maybe he was the smoke. Bakugou didn’t want to consider that option.
The thick smoke kept everyone isolated to keep them from working together or seeing their enemies. He could hear faint echoes of his classmates' voices, screams here and there, unidentifiable from the rest, but one voice found its way above the rest and rang in his head the loudest. It was bold and clear and demanded his attention.
“Bakugou’s their target, don't let them get close!” Kirishima’s rough voice hollered above all the noise.
Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat and he felt his movements stutter.
Why? What did these bastards want with him this time?
He felt a sense of panic rising up in his throat at the thought of being kidnapped by the League of Villains again, but he swallowed it down. This wasn’t a time to get distracted. He couldn't think about that stuff right now. He was over that dumb kidnapping, it didn’t affect him anymore. It didn’t. He’d worked too goddamn hard to let it get to him anymore. He would protect himself and his classmates this time if those damned villains were after him again. He was stronger now.
He wracked his mind to remember who’d been around him before the smoke appeared. Jirou was to his left, Todoroki to his right. Hagakure had been somewhere around him, but her quirk was ideal for these types of situations so he wasn’t worried about her. He didn’t know where anyone else was now, but he knew they’d be looking for him.
He saw a movement in the smoke and he stretched his hand out towards it and sent a blast to clear the smoke before jumping onto the intruder.
Bakugou grinned as some villain thug hit the ground after getting struck with another blast from Bakugou’s hands.
Jirou stared up at him from the ground.
“Bakugou, thanks.”
Katsuki only grunted some response back about how she didn’t need his help, he just saw the opportunity and took the villain out.
The smoke thickened and he could hardly see Jirou anymore even though he knew she was hardly two feet away from him.
He heard Shigaraki’s low, scratchy voice, but he couldn’t make out the words, then the echo of an unfamiliar laughter cut through the excess noise — a villain he didn’t recognize. The laughter was quickly overshadowed by a blood-curdling scream and Bakugou took off running immediately towards it. If Jirou called out, he didn’t hear her. A shout like that only meant one thing and Bakugou couldn’t afford to be even two seconds late if he was right.
If Shigaraki was here, that meant it was really serious. He didn’t know what the idiot villains wanted, but as long as Bakugou was around, he was going to foil whatever plans they had. That’s what being a hero was all about.
Before he made it too far, the smoke started to clear, with only the backs of the villains visible as they retreated into the woods.
Bakugou started after them with absolutely no intention of letting them get away, when something on the ground caught his attention and froze him to the spot. Katsuki’s heart sank and his head spun as he took in the sight the villains left behind. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, he couldn’t comprehend what this might mean, he didn't want to.
His eyes followed after a dotted trail which led towards a bigger pool of blood just a few feet away. Bakugou felt his knees hit the ground hard when he saw a token of exactly whose blood was spilt.
He reached out towards it when a shout caught his attention and his head turned instinctively. Deku was struggling against Shouji and Todoroki, desperately trying to get out of their grasp, reaching towards the League of Villains, shouting indistinctly after them. He wrestled out of Todoroki’s grasp but was quickly caught by Iida before he was able to manage his way out of Shouji’s arms.
Bakugou felt eyes on him too, as if they were expecting this kind of reaction from him instead of Deku, but he felt empty, frozen, confused. He couldn’t move or speak.
He stared at the metal mask, blood dripping off of it into the pool, soaking into the soil below, and his eyes blurred until he couldn’t see anything at all. His chest constricted until he could barely breathe, let alone talk, and his heart sank so deep into his chest he was afraid it was going to stop beating entirely.
Bakugou woke up coughing and gasping for breath. He gripped his chest and struggled to breathe. His cheeks were damp and his chest felt empty. He longed desperately for something to ease the terror but he knew no one was coming. Not anymore.
This was inevitable; it seemed impossible to sleep anymore without seeing the events of that day replayed in his memories. So he’d been trying to stay up as long as possible, until his body literally forced him to sleep — when his mind was too tired to conjure up any painful images and there wasn’t enough time to dream before his morning alarms went off. He guessed he hadn’t worked hard enough the night before, because the images appeared anyway.
He hugged his legs close to his chest and rested his forehead on his knees as he tried to slow his breathing. He squeezed his eyes shut but it hardly helped. He’d never be able to unsee Kirishima’s mask, he’d never be able to forget that image. It haunted him every hour of the day.
He knew he wasn’t the only one. Nobody was taking it well. Even Kaminari was hardly around, and the class was suffering in his absence. Kirishima and Kaminari held the class together, Bakugou knew that, everyone did. And without Kirishima, Kaminari couldn’t hold the weight alone; he was crushed under it. Bakugou had never seen him look so defeated.
After the incident with the League of Villains happened and the class had come back with one fewer than they’d left, Bakugou and Kaminari had been on the forefront of everyone’s minds. Mina and Sero took a hard hit too, everyone did, but there seemed to be an extra close eye on Denki and Katsuki anyway. They’d been the closest to Kirishima. Kaminari made it difficult by staying hidden in his room, hardly ever making an appearance to be “watched carefully” by the others.
Bakugou didn’t take any such measures. He continued on during the day. He didn’t have to worry about what to say because no one else knew either. So he kept to himself. He went to class, trained like normal, but at night, when everything finally caught up with him, was when he really allowed himself to feel. The horrors of what he saw. What he did do… and what he didn’t. The memories of Deku’s screams, the bruises left behind by the hands of his friends holding him back, the absence of any evidence that Bakugou felt the same pull to avenge Kirishima. It hung around him like a ghost. And he couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt, not grief. Kirishima wasn’t really gone. He couldn’t be. Bakugou would know. He would feel it. Katsuki just couldn’t find it in him to grieve. He just knew that his best friend was still out there fighting. He wouldn’t go down so easily. He was strong, determined, brave, unbreakable.
But the guilt of not being able to save him from whatever torture and torment came after haunted Bakugou. Knowing that he had no idea where Kirishima was or how to help kept him awake at night, and the nagging feeling that he was the only one who still had hope isolated him.
He ducked his head and let it hang over his lap as he started to regain control of his breathing. He curled his hand into a fist to ground himself.
He’d decided. Two weeks was long enough. He was going to look for him. Starting tomorrow he wasn’t going to lay around waiting anymore, he wasn’t going to pretend he believed Kirishima was gone. No more waiting, no more guilt.
The following morning Bakugou was up early. He wanted to say it was because of his newfound determination, but that wasn’t true. His heart had been racing too fast for him to fall back asleep the night before so he’d just gotten up with the sun.
He’d managed to go for a run, something he’d been unable to do before today without his running partner. He’d only gotten a good two miles in, though, before the guilt settled in again.
He managed a shower but skipped breakfast. One day at a time.
He walked to UA in less than 5 minutes, settling into the classroom before anyone else had probably left the dorms.
He’d never really been known for being first in the classroom, Kirishima usually kept him a few minutes late from his personal schedule. Whether it was taking too long on the run because he wanted to do “one more lap” or just keeping Bakugou a little too long in the kitchen because he was “really hungry” and wanted some of whatever he’d made for breakfast — it was always something. But recently Bakugou’d been trudging in just seconds before Aizawa started class even without Eijirou’s presence. So, it wasn’t really much of a surprise to him when heads turned as his classmates filed in. Some of them plastered smiles on their faces as they greeted him, but Bakugou wished they wouldn’t. He hated the empty look in their eyes paired with that wide stretch of a smile. Kirishima never smiled like that. His eyes always showed his happiness before his lips could keep up. It was absolutely contagious. Bakugou hated the false expressions they all had on their faces now. It felt like Kirishima never had any effect at all.
“Bakugou!” Sero’s voice called out from the doorway. He was followed by Mina, and Kaminari walked in slowly behind them. “Hey man, It’s nice to see you here so early. I thought I saw you running earlier but I wasn’t sure because you haven’t been out since…” he trailed off and his smile wavered as he realized what he was about to say.
Mina elbowed Sero and gave him a look.
Bakugou felt his heart lurch at Sero’s words. He was right. He hadn’t been out running since Eijirou. The guilt of moving on without him had been gnawing at his chest ever since he’d decided to go, leaving him raw and susceptible and having it pointed out only hurt more. Bakugou hardened his expression. Whatever. He wouldn’t let that vulnerability show on the outside at least. He wasn’t moving on without Kirishima. He wasn’t. Because Kirishima wasn’t gone.
“Since what?” Bakugou dared. He wasn’t going to tolerate this dance any longer. If Sero had something to say, then he better damn well finish his sentence. “Since Kirishima? Don’t you dare act like he never existed. You can’t just pretend to spare your own fucking feelings.”
“Woah, no I…” Sero said, a hurt look crossed his face. “That's not what I was trying to do. Kiri was my best bro, I just…”
“Just what? None of you have so much as mentioned his name since he disappeared. You’re all a buncha cowards.” Bakugou muttered.
The silence in the room was so loud. Everyone’s emotions filled it up and tainted it, coated it with unresolved tension. Bakugou could see the tears in Mina’s eyes from here, he could almost smell the sweat coming off of Sero, and he could practically feel the anxiety coming from where Jirou was seated. Whatever. If that was what came of speaking about Kirishima, so be it. He wasn’t going to pretend anymore. Hard topics come with being a hero; they needed to suck it up.
“Shut up,” Kaminari said in a low voice.
Several people in the room were trying to avoid the confrontation between Bakugou and Sero, only adding to the discomfort in the room, but Kaminari’s voice turned heads. He’d been practically a ghost since Kirishima’s absence, no one had properly seen or heard from him in weeks, but now...
“Stop talking about him like he’s still alive. I can’t take it.” Kaminari said, his voice cracking. “I can’t keep hoping he’s going to waltz back in here, Bakugou. Give us a break okay?”
“What, do you want me to just forget about him like his parents did?”
Mina winced. Sero reached towards Kaminari protectively as he took a bold step in Bakugou’s direction, then turned away from Denki before saying, “Bakugou please don’t—”
“No,” Bakugou said, standing from his desk. “You all need to stop assuming he’s dead!”
“You’re only prolonging our grief by pretending, Bakugou, and none of us can recover like that!” Kaminari said, raising his voice. “Just because you won’t let yourself grieve doesn't mean the rest of us can’t!”
“We left him behind! What don’t you idiots understand about that? You all stood there and stared as they escaped and we still have no idea what happened to Kirishima because none of you cowards even found a bod—”
“Enough.” Aizawa’s voice carried over. He stood in the doorway with his hair standing on end and his eyes glowing red. His presence demanded attention and everyone went silent.
The room was quiet now, the tension lingering still.
Bakugou slid back into his seat without breaking eye contact with Aizawa. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, which was saying something because he didn’t usually look well-rested. The bags under his eyes were darker, heavier, and his eyes looked tired and defeated, something Bakugou would have never used to describe him in the past.
Aizawa maintained eye contact with Bakugou like he was trying to decide something important and wanted to see how Bakugou would react first. Then Aizawa rubbed his face with the palm of his hand and sighed before looking over at Kaminari who’d already sunk into his own seat and had his head down on the desk.
“I guess now is as good of a time as ever,” he said in a rough voice, looking over the class like he was about to deliver some hard-to-swallow news. The class looked back with faces as durable as glass and Aizawa rubbed the back of his neck. “The Kirishimas made a decision, they will not be holding a funeral for their son.”
“What!” Mina said, shooting out of her seat. Uraraka echoed her, in a similar position. Bakugou watched a look of outrage cross Uraraka’s usually kind face, her cheeks flushing red in anger. He’d nearly forgotten how close she and Kirishima had gotten the past few months. They’d become “gym bros,” in Eijirou’s words. He’d invited Bakugou to come along more than once but Bakugou always declined to get an extra few hours of sleep. They went too damn late and stayed too damn long. They were both way too fucking excitable. But Eijirou always seemed happier coming back from a workout and Uraraka adopted some of his more endearing mannerisms over time too; sometimes just watching her interact with her classmates these past few weeks made Bakugou’s chest hurt.
Sero glanced around to read the room before saying in a less abrasive voice, “Mr. Aizawa, is that really the best course of action?”
“It’s not a decision for me to make,” he replied in a monotone voice. He didn’t give away anything that might help the class determine whether or not he agreed or disagreed with the Kirishimas’ decision.
Bakugou heard a pencil snap and he glanced over his shoulder to see Deku with the same terrifying, determined look on his face that he got when he was about to take on an army of villains. His eyes were narrowed and his expression hardened.
“Midoriya—” Todoroki said, rising out of his seat.
“It’s nothing,” Deku said, cutting him off.
He fished another pencil out of his bag before opening his notebook and settling an unconvincing blank expression on his face. But Bakugou knew that look; he was planning something. But what was he planning? Bakugou hadn’t spoken two words to Deku since Kirishima’s absence. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to bear the sympathy or endless compassion in Deku’s words so he’d simply avoided him at all costs. But now, Bakugou wondered if that was necessary at all. He remembered Deku’s reaction to losing Kirishima — he was ready to take on the entire league by himself. Maybe he shared Bakugou’s feelings on the situation. Because, based on his reaction to Aizawa’s news just then, he didn’t seem upset that Eijirou wasn’t getting a funeral, he seemed upset that his parents didn’t want to give him one. It was a small difference, but a significant one — especially in the mind of someone as sentimental as Deku.
Todoroki sat down but his eyes didn’t leave Deku all class. Bakugou could feel the unrest in the classroom. Uraraka’s face was still red from anger, Mina picked at her nails until they bled, Kaminari looked like he was about to burst from all the emotions he was keeping in — the air practically buzzed around him, and Bakugou had never seen Jirou look so troubled, her expressions were usually so mellow.
He was sure that the dorms wouldn’t be quiet tonight, not after all of that.
Bakugou waited outside the classroom with his back pressed against the wall after Aizawa dismissed them for the day. This wasn't the first time he'd done this and it probably wouldn't be the last, these two dumbasses just made it too damn easy to eavesdrop — they were hardly subtle.
Todoroki held Deku back after class and waited for everyone to clear out. They were talking alone in the classroom, but their voices were hardly quiet. Bakugou could make out every word. It was just as he’d suspected.
“I’m not going to apologize for holding you back, Midoriya,” Todoroki’s voice said solemnly. Bakugou could practically see the cold look on his face. “I didn’t that day and I won’t now. You and I both know you couldn’t have taken on the entire League on your own. We don’t even know why they were there. They could have taken you with them.”
“We know they were there for Kacchan!”
“Then why did they leave without him?”
There was no response to that. It was so quiet Bakugou could feel the tension slipping out of the room. Bakugou had had the same thought. If the league had been there for him, why did they leave so suddenly? They wouldn’t have simply killed a single student and left, it wasn’t their style. What could they possibly have gained from that? There had to be a reason, a motive, something that explained it. There had to be. And Bakugou intended to find that out — even if he had to work with these two morons to do it.
“Listen, Izu,” Todoroki’s voice rang out again. “I know you’re upset that Kirishima’s not getting a funeral, but you can’t—”
“It’s not just that,” Deku said, cutting him off. Bakugou leaned closer to the door to hear him. “I’m upset that no one’s doing anything. Everyone’s just accepting this. If we really believe he’s… gone, then I think that he deserves a funeral. He deserves that much. But I…” He was quiet for a second before raising his voice in a bout of decisiveness. “I agree with what Kacchan said earlier. We never found his body, we don’t know if he’s still out there. We didn’t do enough. What if he’s still alive and in the hands of the League? You didn’t rest when Kacchan was captured, and neither did Kirishima! Why is it any different now?”
“We saw Bakugou get taken back then. You were there both times. You know why it’s different. We didn’t see Kirishima. There are too many unknowns. It’s much more likely that the League disposed of him.”
“Too many unknowns? That’s never stopped you before!” Deku cried. Bakugou strained his ears against the sudden silence before Deku breathed out, his voice calm now. “I have the beginnings of a plan. I need to know for sure. If not for Kirishima, for myself. I owe him that much. I can’t just forget about him when he could still be out there. You won’t change my mind. I know he would do the same for me, or you, or anyone for that matter.”
Bakugou felt his heart sink into his chest. He knew Deku was right. Kirishima would have done the same for anyone, and he had before. If there was one word to describe Eijirou, it would be selfless — he was absolutely selfless to a fault. He'd sacrifice just about anything to save someone else, including himself. Kirishima didn’t even think twice about it; it was like second nature to him. His resolve was, frankly, terrifying at times. Bakugou could think of several instances that Eijirou’s self-sacrificing tendencies had quite literally shaken him to his core.
“I know,” Todoroki said. After a pause he continued, “Take me with you then. Bakugou too. He’d be furious if he knew you were doing this without him.”
“I was going to talk to him tonight,” Deku said quietly.
“Fine, then I’m in.” Bakugou heard Todoroki say, his voice getting closer as he approached the door.
Bakugou moved behind the wall as Todoroki left after his final statement. Shouto turned the opposite direction to Bakugo’s delight, but as soon as Deku exited the room, Bakugou revealed himself to grab the front of his shirt and stalk right back into the classroom. He shoved Deku against the wall and stared into his wide eyes.
“Kacchan!” Deku said, his eyes shifting as his mind probably calculated the best way to approach this situation. Bakugou didn’t plan on letting him think.
“Shut up and stop thinking so hard. What the hell are you planning?” he asked, more like a statement than a question.
“N-nothing yet! I haven’t exactly worked out all the details. I was going to talk to you about it once I had it figured out.”
Bakugou grunted and released Deku’s shirt. He could feel his eyes on his back as he turned away.
Bakugou pushed his hands into his pockets and let the silence build between them before he asked quietly. “You really don’t think he’s gone?”
“No.” Deku replied with absolute confidence. “I don’t. Kirishima wouldn’t have gone down so easily.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Bakugou said, taking a step towards the exit. “You better tell me when you have that plan together, and don’t let Icy-hot have any say in it. He’s terrible at battle strategy.”
“Hey that’s not true! He helped us save you from—”
“Yeah, yeah, I said what I said.” Bakugou replied with the wave of his hand as he walked out of the classroom.
For the first time in a long time, when Bakugou walked back to the dorms that evening, he wasn’t dreading waking up the next day. This was just the beginning.
When he walked into the dorm's common room, almost the entire class was present. They were all talking over each other, engaged in several different conversations, but it all revolved around the same thing.
“Bakugou,” Ponytail Girl called out towards him as he entered the dorm building. “Surely you’ll help us. I don’t think it’s wise for us to openly oppose the Kirishimas’ decision, but I was hoping we might have a small ceremony to remember Eijirou.”
“No,” he replied gruffly, turning towards the elevators. He saw Deku walk in behind him and pause to assess the situation.
“Why would he help us, Yaomomo?” Jirou chimed in, coming up behind her. She rubbed small circles into Yaoyorozu's back as she spoke. “He refuses to grieve. He doesn't want to have any part of this.”
“Well, I just thought since he and Kirishima were such good friends…”
Bakugou felt his heart skip a beat at those words.
Such good friends.
Yeah right. “Friends” hardly captured the extent of it. Labels were dumb anyway. No one else could ever understand.
Besides, if he and Kirishima really had been that close, nothing would have ever happened to him in the first place. If Bakugou claimed to care about him even a sliver as much as Kirishima cared about him, this never would have happened. There was no one else to blame. Why would they want someone like Bakugou at a remembrance of Kirishima’s life anyway. They were wasting their time with the dumb celebration any way you sliced it.
“I think you should hold off on that, Yaoyorozu,” Todoroki said, glancing at Deku.
“What? Not you too, Todoroki,” Jirou said. Her voice was stern but her expression was pleading.
“I just think we’re moving too quickly.”
“It’s been over two weeks! We’ve prolonged it enough,” she shot back.
“Just give us a few days,” Deku asked, inserting himself into the discussion. His eyes were wide, but determined. “I’ll only ask for three. If we can’t find a lead on Kirishima by then, you can proceed,” he finished, scanning the room for anyone who objected.
Bakugou continued down the hallway again, convinced no one would stop him this time.
Everyone listened to Deku when he spoke, the room was reduced to mere whispers when there had been a roaring thunder of voices before. Deku had their respect, all of them, just like Kirishima had. It wasn’t something Bakugou would probably ever gain from them.
------
Ground Beta was one of Bakugo’s favorite places to train. Fighting in a real cityscape was exhilarating, it felt like the real deal and Bakugou hated any scenarios that didn’t allow him to let loose and train the way he’d have to react in real life. He had to be hyper aware of his surroundings, wary of the damage his blasts caused on the buildings, and control the speed in which he was flying through the city — not too fast he couldn’t stop if he saw someone in danger, but not too slow that he couldn’t make it in time to stop a criminal.
Right now they were doing a training exercise in which two students were released in the area on opposite sides to one another. One student was the “hero” and the other was the “villain;” the goal of the hero was to find the villain before they could get through the city and the goal of the villain was to make it out without being spotted and captured by the hero.
Bakugou was playing the hero, obviously. Unfortunately, the “villain” in this case was the Frog Girl, who could now turn herself invisible along with being extremely quick and evasive. But Bakugou wasn’t going to let something like that stop him from winning.
He made it about a third of the way into the city before he stopped and waited on top of a building. He could see any and all movements from up here, so he would catch her for sure when she came through this area, now it was just a waiting game.
It was pretty quiet for a while. She must have chosen stealth over speed. Bakugou was teetering on the edge of impatience when an explosion captured his attention to the left. He stood up quickly and squinted at the scene. He wasn’t sure what Frog Girl was playing at but he wasn’t falling for any tricks. She probably did something to draw his attention over there. He didn’t want to be drawn away from his post. He scanned the area but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary.
He elected to ignore it and focus back on his task at hand. He’d nearly forgotten about the distraction entirely until a trail of similar destruction was spreading through the city in his direction. That was enough of a cause for concern. He stood from his place on the roof and blasted himself a few buildings over to get a better look at the source.
He landed on a short building and saw the culprit of the damage, and it wasn’t Frog Girl.
A rather large man was running quickly through the city, damaging anything and everything in his sight, like he was just trying to draw Bakugou’s attention.
If that was what he was doing, it sure as hell worked in his favor because Bakugou was here now.
He didn’t get a good look at the intruder before he took action. He was just a blur of red and black. It didn’t matter who it was, though, Bakugou could tell that he had some kind of strength or durability quirk and that's all the information he needed. He only briefly wondered why there had been no alarms to inform the class that someone had entered the school without permission but he decided it wasn’t important, he needed to stop them here and now before he made his way any closer to his classmates.
He took off running in the same direction as the intruder before sending a few blasts behind him to propel him into the air. Once he was positioned directly above the man, Bakugou twisted his body so he could aim upside down and sent another blast straight towards the intruder’s face. He landed on top of a car and grinned as the smoke cleared. He aimed his gauntlet straight for the intruder and waited for the perfect time to set it off.
I’ve got you now.
As the dust settled, Bakugou got a glimpse of the man’s face and his smile dropped. He felt his hand fall to his side, heavy with the weight of his gauntlet, and his eyes widened.
He’d recognize that face anywhere, even under the influence of his hardening quirk. There was no question about it.
It was Kirishima Eijirou.