He had imagined Bakugou's first birthday with them as close friends to be different. But who could see that coming? Everything that happens. Still, Kirishima already got the gifts months ahead of time. He wasn’t letting it go to waste. Partly hoping that it would cheer up the blond a little bit - or just having him know there still there for him. Kirishima couldn’t replace Midoriya, he didn’t plan to. He just wanted Bakugou to know he isn’t alone.
“ Hey man, I know this really is not the time .. but I got your gifts already ahead of time so … “ he handed over a small bag, inside a special made pillow, black with a orange cross - it also had sweat resistance. There are even some different kind of spices in it for cooking.
“ Happy Birthday, I’m - we are here for you if you need anything, yeah? ”
He hadn’t been expecting any acknowledgement of his birthday. ( they had bigger things to worry about than to celebrate something this nonsensical ) but he wasn’t exactly surprised seeing Kirishima at his door, either. Everyone’s been treating him like a goddamn ticking bomb, ( unsurprisingly, with the aura of don’t fuck with me that he would exude at constant ), but one look at the red head made it clear any distance wasn’t out of any misgivings, but respect, for Katsuki’s own wishes. ( always so damn nice ) and he hates it. Hates that he can’t even get mad at this show of — what? Consideration? Friendship? Care? ( each answer just constricts his chest all the tighter, feeling something shift that much closer to snapping, and so he puts it far out of mind. bottles it back up, because he was not dealing with that shit. again. bigger things to fucking worry about. )
“ Thanks, or whatever, ” he grumbles, followed by a frown at his own insensitivity, because it wasn’t even on purpose this time. But the past few months had done nothing but raise his ire, nothing but fester the anger till it threatened to ( literally ) explode out of him.
But. This was Kirishima, who’s done nothing but support him from all the way back at USJ. This was Kirishima, who was undoubtedly just as affected by all this, if not more. ( shitty hair was friends with fucking everyone in the damn class, after all. was undoubtedly a better friend to deku than katsuki ever was ) Yet here he was, trying to give Katsuki support. As if he fucking needed it. ( he didn’t. he didn’t even want it. it was fine. he was fine. )
He opens the bag without further preamble, forcibly derailing his own train of thought, reaching in to pull the pillow out of the bag for a better look. It was...fitting. Something dorky enough that it doesn’t come as a surprise coming from Kirishima, but not too bad that he didn’t like the present. ( it was good, even. )
But of course it was. This was Kirishima, who knew him far too well to give him a crappy present. Who knew him far too well to be put off by the less than stellar reception, too. ( but it still makes him feel like a shit. since, well, he was being one. and kirishima never deserved it )
“ ...Come on, then. ” He speaks once more, this time without the anger that had clouded his tone. ( instead there’s exhaustion, bone deep and lasting, the kinda that wouldn’t be fixed with something as simple as sleep. ) It’s why he clung to the anger for so long, forced it to the forefront so it’s all anyone else could see, but this was Kirishima, who always saw more to him than most others did anyways.
“ Let’s put these spices to use and get some damn food in our stomachs. ” It’s an apology and second thanks all in one, actions always easier to express himself with than words ever were. And, if, this was a way to get Kirishima to stay, to accept the company he had been offering, well. Katsuki has never been good at asking for that directly, either. ( but here kirishima was anyways, always there to offer that hand. and katsuki wasn’t about to stop taking it now )
