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Kirishima was tired.
He was in his bed early in the morning, having gone to bed later than he usually does. He would normally have been hanging out with his classmates in the common room before class started, but he just...couldn't. So much had happened within the past week alone, he needed to have some time alone. His thoughts spiraled rapidly as he laid there, one hand rested on his stomach. Bakugo had been kidnapped. He watched, feeling so useless as his best friend vanished into the warp gate. Yes, he was back safe now- Kirishima had been the one Bakugo reached for- he was there when Bakugo was saved, but his friend was kidnapped. It had happened so fast, and yet, so, so slow. Kirishima was tired.
But he could handle this! It's just part of being a hero. He was manly, and the manly thing to do was to be strong right now, because Kirishima was strong. His classmates needed his strength right now. He could do that for them. He could handle this. He can handle this.
He was already in his uniform, and sat up with a sigh in his bed. It was about time he headed downstairs to class. Kirishima was tired, more than just physically, but hey. Its a new day, right? Today, he decided, will go right. I'll be fine. He made his way downstairs and greeted his classmates with a smile, fist-bumping Denki, and Waving at Bakugo, who eyed him carefully. Bakugo had been less explosive after he was kidnapped, so he didn't take his silence personally. Instead he returned his look with a smile and fell back next to him.
On the chalkboard was written 'Teachers v. students- training.' Shit, that was today, wasn't it? Anxiety bubbled in his stomach while he rolled his eraser around his hands, feeling the weight of the rubber tumble around his palm, guiding it with his thumb. He reassured himself that it would be fine. Kirishima had been training with his quirk after classes in preparation for this, he knew it was coming. He remembers doing a similar exercise when he had joined UA. It could be good to get some of his stress out, training always left him feeling calmer. This is just what he needed! His chest was feeling lighter. Once Aizawa strolled into class, a coffee mug in hand, class had gone by quickly. Towards the end of the class, he could feel the buzz of excitement in the class.
"We have purposely not told you who you'll be going up against. Out in the field, you wont know who you're going up against until they're right in front of you." Aizawa said. He grabbed a piece of chalk in his hand, and began writing. "Now is when you will find out which one of the teachers you will be going up against. You will have seven minutes to defeat your opponent. That should be plenty time. Since there are only so many staff members, multiple students will be going against the same students after each round is over." He finished writing out the arrangements, and slumped back into his desk chair. Kirishima's eyes scanned the board, and his eyes fell on 'Eraserhead- Kirishima, Hagakure.' He'd be lying if he said he wasn't excited. Can you blame him? He had a lot of respect for Aizawa, he was one of his favorite pros after all, and was an amazing teacher. (He was no Crimson riot, but he was undoubtedly badass and manly.) Aizawa dismissed the students to go and get their gym uniforms on, and instructed them to meet him and the other teachers on the training ground.
Once everyone was down on the training grounds, the first round of students branched off to be with their assigned teachers in their respective areas. Those who were waiting watched on a screen. Kirishima was in the first round of students, along with Bakugo, who would be fighting Present Mic. Kirishima's stomach had butterflies, but he told himself it was purely from excitement. In truth, he was excited. He really wanted to be able to say that he won against Eraserhead.
After three beeps, the timer had started. The two were In one of the empty buildings. This meant that Kirishima couldn't dig up any dirt or rubble to fling at Aizawa. He could have easily disabled Aizawa's quirk by kicking sand in his eyes. Aizawa put his goggles on, and faced Kirishima, ready. "your move." Aizawa said.
Kirishima went in to swing at Aizawa using his hardening quirk. The one downside to his hardening quirk is it can slow his movements slightly if he hardens too much. Aizawa was too fast for him. He ducks downward, dodging and activating his quirk. He grabs Kirishima's outstretched arm and throws him over his shoulder onto to the floor. Aizawa was still holding his arm behind his back, planting a foot on the small of Kirishima's back to keep him there. He hadn't even lasted two minutes.
"Was that seriously the best you could do?" Aizawa was looking down on him, his quirk still active. "You rely on your quirk too much. Your movements are predictable, and you gave me such a clear opening, I thought for a moment you were baiting me. Instead of overwhelming your opponent with a hard blow at close quarters, try getting better at hand-to-hand combat. Especially your self-defense." He released Kirishima from his grasp, and turned off his quirk.
Once Aizawa let go of him, he stood up to face his teacher. Aizawa's words burned into Kirishima's brain. Kirishima's eyes stung, and his face was hot. It was not very manly to be crying over this. He bowed to Aizawa, blinking away his tears, breathless. "Thank you, Sensei, I'll try my best!" He said. He hoped the effort it just took him to feign his usual optimism was not obvious. Right now, all Kirishima wanted was for the ground underneath him to swallow him whole. Kirishima was tired.
The rest of the school day felt like a blur to him. All he could think about was how he lost. truthfully, it wasn't the fact that he lost that he was hung up on. it was how he lost. To add insult to injury, all his classmates watched him make such a stupid mistake, and now, they saw how weak he was. At lunch time, he ate his food slowly, taking deep, painful breaths. Maybe wearing his binder during training and, then proceeding to get thrown to the floor wasn't the wisest choice. His ribs waxed and waned with a dull, distracting pain that occasionally sent sharp daggers in his side if he breathed in too quickly.
If Bakugo noticed something was up with Kirishima, he didn't say anything. He did, however, throw glances Kirishima's way every time the red-head shifted uncomfortably in his seat, or took slow, deep breaths. If he did say anything, Kirishima would just tell him he's tired after his match with Aizawa. Which wasn't entirely false.
Supposedly, Bakugo was able to overtake Present Mic by using his quirk against him. He made an explosion that blew rubble and air back towards Present Mic, who had just released a scream. The sound reverberated back against Mic, and paired with the rubble that was shot up in his face, he was too busy dealing with ringing ears, and coughing out bits of dirt he swallowed to notice Bakugo getting in close to him. By the time he had, it was too late. Their match had lasted five minutes.
Kirishima was proud of his friend! He knew Bakugo could do it, and he was proud of his other classmates who won, too. If it was any other week, then maybe, maybe he would have gotten over his own loss. He should be over this by now. Tokoyami also went up against Present Mic, and he was unable to beat him. Tokoyami, however, seemed unperturbed by his loss, he was taking it in stride.
Truthfully, It wasn't just that he lost against Aizawa. It was the fact that earlier this week, the same Bakugo that fought Present Mic and won, is the same Bakugo he watched get kidnapped. It was the fact that he watched his classmates struggle to cope with this news. It's the fact that he still can't forget the sound of Tsu crying. Its the fact that he stayed up late last night, and once he did sleep, he slept like shit. Its the fact that he woke up earlier than normal, and all he could do was lay in his bed until it was time to head to class. And it was the fact that on top of all of this, he lost to Eraserhead, one of the coolest heroes Kirishima knows. He just wanted to feel strong. The only thing he was feeling right now was exhaustion, and pain.
At the end of the day, he wasted no time in returning straight to his room. Most of his classmates didn't question it, they were all tired today. Tsu and Uraraka sat on the couch huddled together, and were watching some random movie that Mina suggested. Mina was watching it with them, before she had fallen asleep with her head rested on Tsu's lap. Bakugo, quietly observant Bakugo, did question it when Kirishima headed up to his room without saying a word to anyone. He had known something was up with Kirishima all day. So, when Kirishima hurried off in the direction of the elevator to get to his dorm room, Bakugo waited a moment before heading into the elevator. Kirishima was already in his room.
When Kirishima entered his room, he quickly closed the door and threw his bag down, kicking off his shoes. He changed out of his school uniform, throwing his binder off and opting for a Crimson Riot hoodie and black Athletic shorts. He was sat on his bed once more, staring up at the ceiling, begging the tears in the corner of his eyes to not fall. He whispered a curse under his shaky breath, and when he dropped his head down to run a hand through his hair, the tears finally fell. Kirishima was tired, but he was alone now, so he could finally let it all out.
He broke out in a raw sob, the tears streamed down his face and his hands trembled. He balled them into fists to try to steady them, but to no avail. His chest rose and fell rapidly, drawing in shallow breaths. His head hurt, and his fingers felt tingly. He put a hand to his cheek to wipe away the tears, and suddenly there was a stinging feeling on his cheek that momentarily grounded him. Kirishima's breath hitched when he put a finger to his cheek and pulled away to see not only was there blood on his hand, but he had accidentally activated his quirk. At least the cut was shallow.
"God damn it!" he cried, using his hoodie sleeve to wipe the rest of his tears. He tried to release his quirk, but he was too emotional and tense right now, it was just his body's natural reaction to the stress he was under.
There was a loud knock on Kirishima's door. His heart sank to his stomach, and suddenly his room fell eerily silent. "Yeah?" He called out, cringing at how his voice cracked. Bakugo entered his room, closing the door behind him. When he saw the state Kirishima was in; His face wet with tears, knees curled up to his chest, and a small scrape on his cheek, any anger in him died out, and his heart skipped a beat.
"Hey, Bakubro." Kirishima said. He forced a smile, but it was weak. He tried wiping away the rest of his tears, but it was useless. The tears just kept falling down his face. He drew in a deep and shaky breath.
"Stop acting like you're fine right now. Its just us two, and you know that its bullshit." Bakugo was speaking quietly, carefully. His usual furrowed brow was gone. The flame in his eyes was out, and his mouth was relaxed into a soft frown. He sat down in front of Kirishima. "Tell me whats wrong."
"I lost against Aizawa today."
"That's what's got you hyperventilating and screaming?" Bakugo raised a brow. Kirishima sighed deeply, and stared at his hands. His breathing was more level now. His quirk was still activated in his hands, though it wasn't as solid as before.
"When you were kidnapped, In that hour or two before we rescued you, I-" Kirishima held a fist to his mouth, his breath caught in his throat, and his eyes stung again. He took another deep breath. Bakugo watched him, listening patiently. "I thought the worst, man. I didn't know what was happening." The tears were falling again, and he was sobbing loudly.
Bakugo reached a hand to Kirishima's, gently holding them, giving Kirishima the option to pull away if he wanted to. "Deep breaths, dude. I'm here now, and I'm okay." Crimson eyes met crimson. "Those nobodies didn't hurt me, they couldn't even if they tried. That crusty motherfucker just kept...Monologing about how shitty the hero society is, and how I'm 'just like him,' and how I should join the League. That blonde chick kept eyeing me up. Then I was outta there. I told them to take their shit sales pitch and shove it up their ass." Bakugo said.
Kirishima laughed at the mental image of Bakugo saying such a thing to the league. Of course he said that. As he listened, his tears stopped falling, and his breathing evened out. Kirishima took one more deep breath, and then smiled softly, genuinely, at Bakugo. The first genuine smile he wore today. "Thanks man. I'm sorry you had to see me like this." He said. His hands were no longer rock. Callused fingers met Soft skin as he lightly squeezed Bakugo's hand.
Bakugo scrunched his nose up in disagreement. "No, No. I'm not accepting that apology, Shitty hair. You didn't do anything wrong. Not a goddamned thing." He said. Kirishima saw the fire spark in Bakugo's eyes. A weight lift off his shoulders as the blonde's words washed over him.
"I...think I really needed to hear that." Kirishima said, Sniffling. He let go of Bakugo's hands, and placed his own back in his lap.
"its 'bout time someone told you that." Bakugo said. "Go clean the cut on your face."
"Ehh, its finee. Its just a little scrape." Kirishima waved his hand in the air, an amused grin on his face.
"Bullshit- go clean it. I don't need to hear you complaining that it got infected." Bakugo stared at him expectantly. Kirishima got up from the bed slowly, heading to his dorm bathroom. Bakugo stayed on the bed, watching him. "And don't for a god-damned second think confiding in me makes you some weakling. That's bullshit, too. You're strong, and you know you are. Don't let anything make you doubt that." Bakugo called to him from his room.
From the bathroom, Kirishima smiled softly to himself. "Thanks, bro." Kirishima was tired, but at least now, when he took a well-earned, and long nap, He wouldn't be tired anymore. And if he spirals and falls again, Bakugo will be there to catch him when he falls. Before Bakugo left his room, he left a bottle of water for Kirishima to drink on his bed, with a sticky note on it that said 'drink some fucking water, shitty hair.'