Kirishima’s breath caught in his throat, threatening to choke him with his own bile. He was flying through the sky in Kamino. Far below on the ground, Bakugou was fighting for his life, ducking and weaving to avoid the murderous villains that had him surrounded. Kirishima called out to him, his voice faded as though he was underwater. Then, Bakugou was in the air, propelling himself toward Kirishima, his hand outstretched, reaching for his help. Their fingertips brushed each other. Then, Bakugou fell back into the darkness below, disappearing into a sea of shadowy hands, a look of fear in his eyes so pungent that Kirishima could feel that frantic stare burned into his soul.
Kirishima woke with a scream, sweat heavy on his brow. He sat there, gasping for breath in the pale rays of the early morning. It was winter now. The sun was only just barely up over the horizon. The attack in Kamino had happened all the way back in July, but the nightmares hadn’t stopped. Kirishima had hoped they would go away. That he could get over this fear eating away at him, but it was showing no signs of stopping.
Kirishima dressed and did his hair up absent-mindedly, as though his body was on autopilot. He grabbed a protein bar from his desk and stood in the hall outside his door, eating his breakfast as he waited.
A few minutes later, Bakugou stepped out of his room.
“Oi, Hair for Brains, don’t you ever take a day off from this? I don’t need you hanging over me.” Bakugou’s scowl was an interesting thing. At first, Bakugou was terrifying, especially with his temper. But, with time, Kirishima had gotten to know Bakugou’s softer side. He knew that a lot of that anger was just a front to look strong and tough.
“Ah, but company makes the trip better! Protein bar?” He extended the half-eaten bar; fully aware it’d get rejected.
“Eh? You want me to eat your fucking table scraps? I’m not a dog! Besides, I’m not going to take your breakfast!”
“Suit yourself, Bakugou. Did you at least eat something?”
“You’re not my mother, Shitty Hair! I don’t need you babying me.” Translation: No.
Kirishima reached into his backpack and pulled out a banana, “well, I’ve got some fruit. You can have it, if you want.”
“I don’t need your damn handouts!”
“Well, it’s not healthy to skip breakfast. You really should eat something, Bakugou. Otherwise, you’ll get all slow and groggy. My grades depend on you being sharp and alert. Besides, you can’t let Midoriya get ahead of you. You’re going to be the number one hero, after all.”
Bakugou frowned, but he took the banana and started eating it begrudgingly as Kirishima smiled. When all else fails, play the Midoriya card. Bakugou would sooner die than let Midoriya outpace him. Which was good, it made it easier to convince Bakugou to take better care of himself.
Kirishima opened the door to Class 1-A to the familiar sound of his classmates chattering. A small crowd had swarmed around Ashido, who was clutching a video game box triumphantly.
“Eh? You already got a copy of Heroes Smackdown IV? How? it just came out!” Kaminari gawked in awe at Ashido’s treasure.
“I’ve been saving up for the past four months. Ever since the game was showcased at the Hosu Gaming Expo. Yeah, I missed out on Ninja Knockout, but now I’m the one with the prize!”
“I’ll do your dishes for a month if you let me get first game!” Sero’s toothy grin did little to sway the alien queen’s opinion.
“Dream on, tape boy! I’m the one who bought it, so I get first game. The rest of you can fight to the death for second turn.”
Ojiro frowned, “Is that why you searched the sofa for loose change so much?”
Ashido laughed, “Yeah. Too bad all I ever got out of that thing was three pennies and a paper clip. Not exactly the bounty I was hoping for.”
Kaminari turned toward Kirishima, “Geez. What happened to you? You look like shit.”
Before Kirishima could respond, Bakugou brushed past him into the room, “He looks like he stayed up too late studying. Careful, or you’ll blow a fuse out on that pea-sized brain of yours, Shitty Hair.”
“Haha, yeah. I guess that’s true. Guess I gotta learn to pace myself better.” Kirishima sighed internally, wondering when he’d be able to get a good night’s sleep again. He didn’t get a chance to say anything though, as Mr. Aizawa came down the hallway toward the classroom, and Kirishima got to his desk.
It’d been becoming significantly harder to concentrate lately. Kirishima couldn’t really follow Mr. Aizawa’s lesson, and the sleep deprivation only exasperated the problem. It didn’t help that the room was so warm and comforting that before he knew it, Kirishima had fallen asleep at his desk.
Smoke clogged the air, strangling the oxygen out of Kirishima’s lungs as it stung his eyes. He lay limp like a ragdoll on the ground, his mind flickering between consciousness and darkness. Bakugou lay face down in the road, not moving. Around him, shards of broken glass were scattered across the wrecked street. Streams of red blood oozed from every part of his body. A villain loomed over his frail form, an ominous and faceless shadow. It lifted Bakugou off the ground, his body twitching in pain. Even from so far away, Kirishima could see Bakugou fighting back tears as he weakly cried out “Help me, Kirishima.” Move. Move dammit. You have to get up. You have to fight. Move! All his internal screaming did nothing. All his weak, battered body could do was writhe in pain as he watched the shadow break Bakugou’s neck with a sickening snap, his lifeless body crumpling to the ground with a thud.
Kirishima sat up with a yelp, and everyone in class turned to look at him with concerned looks. His eyes darted over to the back of Bakugou’s head. It was facing the right way. It was just another nightmare. Mr. Aizawa glared, “So nice of you to join us, Kirishima. I don’t suppose you’d like to explain problem 13 for the class. The one we just finished reviewing.” Kirishima groaned internally as he proceeded to embarrass himself further.
“Do you need to see a doctor or something?” Kaminari eyed Kirishima suspiciously. The cafeteria rumbled with the chattering of its many students. Kirishima tried to force himself to eat, but even the tenderloin which had looked so good in the lunch line just turned his stomach.
“I’m not sick,” Kirishima protested, “I just haven’t been getting much sleep lately.”
Ashido snorted, “That’s an understatement. Last week, you almost put your laundry in the dishwasher. You’re not okay. If you need to take some time off to –”
“To do what? Fall even further behind? I already have crap grades in the class. If I start missing class, I’ll never keep up.”
“Dude, you’re sleeping through half of your classes anyway. What’s the point of coming if you can’t focus?” Kirishima knew it was bad when Sero was the one raising valid points.
“You’d better not be falling asleep because you think my tutoring will carry you,” Bakugou growled, “Cause if that’s the case, then I’m going to stop helping you.”
“No! Please, Bakugou. I really need this! I swear, I’m doing my best. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
Bakugou glowered at him for a second before scoffing, “You really are hopeless. Fine. But if you fall asleep on me, I’m throwing you over the balcony.”
Kirishima yawned as the digital clock came to 23:47, the world around him growing faint and fuzzy. Kirishima subtly jammed the eraser of his pencil into his thigh to wake himself up, as he fought to blink away the tiredness.
Bakugou stretched. “You should get some shut eye, Shitty Hair, before you fry what few brain cells you have.”
Kirishima laughed, “Nah, I can keep going. I wanna figure out this problem.”
Bakugou scoffed, “Let me rephrase that. It’s late, and I’m going to bed. So, either get out, or get thrown out.”
Kirishima breathed heavily as he charged through the city streets, his sight never breaking from the shadow as it dodged traffic. His lungs felt like they were on fire, but he pressed on. The shadow scurried up a building toward the roof, and Kirishima followed in pursuit. When he got to the top, the shadow was waiting for him.
“I’m going to destroy you for what you did to Bakugou.” Kirishima could feel the rage coursing through his body as he glared at the monster before him.
The shadow only laughed a familiar laugh. “Oi, Shitty Hair you really are dense.” Kirishima blinked, and the shadow was gone, replaced with Bakugou dressed all in black.
“Bakugou? What are you –”
“Tch. Always confused, aren’t you, Hair for Brains? You killed me, Kirishima.”
“B-but you’re standing right here.”
“No. I’m not the kid you went to school with. That kid died a long time ago. You failed me, Kirishima. In my darkest hour, you sat around and did nothing. You left me to rot with the rest of those lowlifes.”
“That’s not what happened, Bakugou. That’s not what I wanted.”
“Not what you wanted? What about what I wanted? My entire life was ruined. Every single thing I’d worked so hard for, stolen because you failed in the simplest parts of being a hero. You let them take me, you bastard! You let some pencil-pusher’s rules stop you from helping someone in need. You abandoned me! All of my efforts. All of my plans. I was going to be the greatest hero the world has ever seen! Now look at what I’ve become! Look at what I’ve been reduced to! I had to become a villain just to survive. How many lives have I had to hurt just to make it another day? How much blood stains both of our hands? You… You did this. All of this. Every single bloody death. It’s all your damn fault! Why didn’t you save me? Why didn’t you stop them? Where was my damn hero when I needed one?”
Kirishima felt the sting of tears in his eyes, “We were children.”
Bakugou sneered, “And a lot more children are going to get hurt tonight.” He pulled out a remote detonator, and the world disappeared in a white flash as the sounds of screaming filled the night.
Kirishima’s room was cold as he sat upright in his bed, panting hard. His hands trembled as he threw the covers off his bed. He didn’t know where he was going as he staggered across his room. The next thing he knew, a grumpy, sleep-deprived Bakugou was opening his door, and Kirishima threw his arms around him, burying his face in his neck as he started to cry.
“Oi! What the hell, Shitty Hair? What the matter with you? Get ahold of yourself.” Normally, Kirishima would have let go and tried to laugh it off, but his fingers were unwilling to move. His throat was sore from screaming and crying. He just stood there, weeping into Bakugou’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he blubbered, “I should have done more. I was so useless.”
Bakugou grunted in annoyance, “What the hell are you rambling on about, Hair for Brains?”
“I was so scared. I’m so fucking tired of watching you die every damn night. Why won’t it go away?” Kirishima’s words caught in his throat, and he started to weep again. He expected Bakugou to push him off, or to start screaming. He wasn’t expecting the hand on his back to be so gentle.
“I’m right here, Kirishima. I’m safe, and I’m alive.” Kirishima had never heard Bakugou this soft-spoken before. It was rather soothing.
Kirishima sniffled, “I… I know… I keep telling myself that but… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“At the training camp. You… You needed me, and I just sat around and did nothing. I failed you”
“Is that what you think? That you failed me? You really are as dumb as a rock.” Bakugou’s voice was softer now, as he drew Kirishima in closer. “You didn’t fail me. You came and got me in Kamino Ward. I’m alive because of you.”
“But it’s my fault you were in danger in the first place. You never even should have been in Kamino.”
“Were you involved in the plot to kidnap me?”
“Wh-What? No! Of course not, but –”
“But nothing. Look, don’t go spreading this around but… You are a good hero. Because, you’re my hero. When I was in trouble, real danger, you came to my rescue when I needed a savior the most.”
Kirishima pulled back and looked into Bakugou’s eyes. There was a softness there that he’d never seen before. A sort of quiet tenderness that he assumed Bakugou never felt. “Bakugou, I thought–”
“You’ll hurt yourself trying something like that. Now come on, it’s 4 am. Go the fuck to sleep.”
“… Could I stay with you tonight? I just really don’t want to be alone right now.”
Kirishima expected to get a face-full of explosion at the suggestion, but Bakugou just shrugged absently. “Fine. But bring your own pillow. I’m not sharing.”
Nestled up alongside Bakugou, listening to the rhythm of his snoring, Kirishima allowed his heavy eyelids to flutter shut. Almost too soon, the morning sun began to peak through the window, and Kirishima sat up with a groan. Whatever demons had been haunting him were silent, for the time being. Beside him, Bakugou continued to sleep, his chest rising and falling. Suddenly, the nightmares of last night felt a lifetime away. Kirishima looked toward the rising sun, and smiled. It was a new day.
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