Work Text:
“What's with the class change? I thought we were supposed to have math after lunch today.”
“Kirishima complaining about missing math? World must be ending.”
“I was just making a statement, Sero!”
Bakugo does his best to not grind his teeth together in irritation. Spend half a goddamn Sunday teaching quadratic equations to the densest rock in their class and now the quiz is on fucking hold for whatever bullshit the school has decided they could better spend their time on. Who knows how long Kirishima's going to be able to keep it all in his head before it starts to leak out his ears.
Wasted effort makes Bakugo itch.
He focuses instead on Aizawa's back as he escorts the class through the halls. They haven't been told explicitly what's warranted the change, but they're obviously heading toward the art studio instead of the gym, so whatever it is will probably be annoying.
“Everyone, stay together!” Iida needlessly tells them. “I'm sure our teachers have a very good reason for disrupting our rigorous schedule!”
Aizawa, in his infinite wisdom, ignores them as he continues his unhurried pace. When they approach the wide doors to the studio, he stops and turns to address them all.
“I expect you to be on your best behavior. Start any fights and you're expelled, understand?”
Before anyone can ask why, the door quickly slides open.
“Well, if it isn't Class A. So unsatisfied with your own classes that you have to force your way into ours, is that it?” A chorus of groans ring out as Monoma appears with new yet tired taunts. “No matter! This will be the perfect chance to show you the superior artistic capabilities of- ack!” Monoma suddenly goes limp, revealing Kendo standing just behind him.
“Sorry about that. Just don't pay him any mind. Won't you join us?” she asks, effortlessly dragging her classmate's stunned body back into the studio.
“Yes!” Midnight's voice rings out from inside. “Come in, my little artists! Come and acquaint yourselves with your newest challenge!”
Tired of being left in the dark, Bakugo pushes forward, elbowing his way to the front and into the art studio. Inside, their counterparts of Class B are already standing in the open room. Kirishima waves to Tetsutetsu and Yaoyorozu gives a small bow to some headband wearing loser who politely waves back. The rest of their class filters in and once they're all out of the hallway, Aizawa nods to Midnight.
“They're all yours. Be gentle,” he says. Midnight cracks her whip in response.
“No promises!”
Aizawa merely shrugs and leaves without word, sliding the door shut behind him.
“Now, my dears, allow me to explain to you your new assignment.”
Midnight gestures sharply to the screen on the wall behind her with a clinking of the cuff on her wrist. The names of all forty students begin to cascade down numbered columns in alphabetical order, Class A on the left and Class B on the right.
“While it's important in today's hero industry to be competitive with one another, it is equally important to be able to cooperate in order to accomplish goals, whether that be citizen evacuations or to coordinate efforts against a large group of villains. Or, in your case for today's lesson, to create something!”
Instinctively, students begin to move closer to their friends. Even Bakugo glances over to Kirishima who gives him an enthusiastic grin. But before anyone can get too excited, Midnight raises a hand. With a snap of her fingers, the names on the screen jumble their order in both columns.
“You will be in randomly assigned teams of two, each comprising of a student from Class A and one from Class B. Find the person with the same number as you. Hurry now, don't dawdle!” She snaps her whip again and people start moving to the board to find their names and partner.
Hands shoved deep into his pockets, Bakugo trails behind the others and finds himself in the list. Across from him with the same number is a name he doesn't recognize.
“Shiozaki Ibara?” he mumbles to himself. In front of him, Kirishima and Metal Face punch the air at the same time in victory.
“Alright!”
“Tetsutetsu!”
The two of them meet each other in the crowd of students, clasping hardened and steeled hands.
“We got this in the bag!” Tetsutetsu gloats.
“You know it!” Kirishima says, his face splitting into a wide smile.
Bakugo watches and finds himself getting irritated, and then gets irritated because he's irritated. It's not like he and Kirishima could have paired up for this project anyway and it's not like he would have even wanted to; Shitty Hair can't draw to save his life. Bakugo doesn't care. It's whatever.
“Excuse me.”
Bakugo turns at the soft spoken voice behind him and sees Thorn Head from the sports festival looking at him expectantly.
“Bakugo Katsuki? I believe you and I are collaborators,” she says, offering a polite bow. Bakugo turns more fully toward her.
“You Shiozaki?”
“I am,” she nods.
“You any good?” Better to cut right to the chase. He needs to know if he's going to have to pick up any slack from the get go.
“I have an eye for contrast and composition...” she says slowly, looking to the side.
“A critic, not an artist, huh? How's that gonna help us win?”
“Win?”
“Midnight put us into teams. If we're being forced to cooperate in small groups, then there's probably still an element of competition,” he explains, because apparently he's the only one who can read a goddamn situation. He can feel his irritation simmer further.
“You're correct, dear boy!” Midnight's voice cuts through the students' chatter and everyone starts to quiet down. “There is indeed going to be a contest.”
The screen clears itself and two words appear.
“You have a couple of choices to make. First will be your category. You have two prompts to choose from; Triumph and Affection. There are only ten slots for each, so you and your partner must choose quickly or the choice will be made for you. Second, you may use any medium you wish. Painting, photography, music, sculpting, even knitting if you know how to make a tight knot,” she says with an inappropriate purr. “There will be a winner for each category and from those two teams, an overall victor. You have ten minutes to decide on these things with your partner and then we're all taking a field trip for inspiration. Begin!”
“You will be wanting to sign up for Triumph, isn't that right?” Shiozaki asks, already stepping forward to add their team to the list. Bakugo says nothing, because obviously. He's not about to pretend like he wants to give her a chance to change her mind. “I find I gravitate to it as well. Overcoming great and perilous odds to attain victory is a noble endeavor.” Bakugo feels one of his eyes twitch.
“Winning is just what heroes do, who cares if it's noble?”
“A hero does,” Shiozaki says as she finishes writing their names down before returning her attention back to him. “Now, what is your preferred medium? You were right before; though I have a fondness for the arts, I am myself no great artist.” Her stoic expression breaks into a small and somewhat ashamed pout. Bakugo doesn't even waste breath to call her useless; he figured as much from the beginning.
“Photography. But don't think I'm gonna do all the work here. You got an eye for composition? Then you're helping find the best shot.”
“Of course! I fully intend on pulling my own weight in this project.” Shiozaki looks both determined and offended at the same time. Bakugo turns from her then and starts walking to the back of the studio to wait for more instructions from Midnight.
“You better. Fall behind me and I'll leave you to die,” he throws over his shoulder. Shiozaki quietly watches him leave before tilting her head to the side.
“Die...?”
From the center of the room, Monoma raises his hand.
“Ms. Midnight? Will we be allowed to use our quirks?” he asks, causing the chatter in the room to die down. “There are some among us who would be at an unfair advantage.” He pointedly pins Yaoyorozu with an accusatory look.
“Yes, quirks are allowed, within reason of course. A quirk should not be used to produce a fully finished product, however,” Midnight clarifies. Yaoyorozu's face turns bright red as she clutches her chest in indignation.
“I would never!”
Iida and the others come to her defense swiftly, but Bakugo sits in the back and tunes them all out. Minutes later, Midnight calls for their attention once more.
“Now, due to the school's increased infamy amongst the media, we'll be going on this field trip incognito, as much as possible at any rate. Go back to the dorms and change out of your uniforms and into your own clothes. We'll meet as a group out by the buses. Be quick or be punished!”
-
Forty students means they're taking two buses and, much to their class rep's annoyance, they're not being designated a seating order and can sit wherever they want. Bakugo knows this is to give teams a chance to discuss their project, but he considers that a waste of time and his own limited patience. He's a little surprised when Kirishima slides next to him instead of sitting with Tetsutetsu, but the alternative would be someone far less tolerable, so Bakugo doesn't call him out on it. Kirishima's taken the instruction of blending in seriously, because his hair is out of its notable style and pulled back into a small ponytail. Bakugo himself hasn't done much different other than the beanie pulled over his head.
“Have you and Shiozaki decided on what category you're doing?” he asks. Bakugo gives him a withering glare and Kirishima laughs. “Yeah, I figured. Same for me and Tetsutetsu. Better not take us lightly or we're gonna take first place.”
“You fucking wish. Do you even know how to paint, Shitty Hair?”
“Nope! We're gonna sculpt something. I've only used clay once before in middle school, but I was pretty good at it!” Kirishima rubs the back of his neck. “Well, maybe. I made a mug for my teacher and she said she liked it. But I've always wanted to try again.” He's practically buzzing with excitement and Bakugo just rolls his eyes. “What about you guys?”
“Photography. I brought my dad's old camera.” Bakugo gestures to the bag beside him. Kirishima looks at it curiously before breaking out into a smile.
“Oh yeah, you like taking pictures, right? Of landscapes and stuff? I remember you taking some shots when we went mountain climbing. Hey, we should do that again sometime!”
“You fail math and Aizawa's gonna own every second of downtime you get from now until graduation, dumbass.” Bakugo tells him without remorse. Kirishima groans and slides down in his seat in defeat.
“And I had all those steps memorized this morning, too! Bakugo, you gotta give me a refresher tomorrow, man.”
“I'm not wasting another second tutoring you over the same shit.”
“And I don't want to waste my holidays in remedial classes with Mr. Aizawa when I could be spending time with you.”
Bakugo's chest does something funny then, an odd tightening sensation that he blames on he hatred of incessant whining, so he just crosses his arms and looks out the window.
“Then just go over your notes, idiot. I underlined everything you need to know. Twice.”
“But I learn so much better when you're shouting death threats at me.”
“I'm gonna beat the stupid out of you one day, you hear me?!”
“Yeah, like that!”
-
Their bus ride takes them a couple towns over. Midnight wasn't kidding about avoiding media attention, but she also seems insistent on getting them off campus and out into the world a little. (“You've all been so cooped up. If it were me, I'd have gone stir crazy ages ago!”) She, too, is dressed in her civilian clothes, something that makes her look like an actual normal fucking person. The shift in her attitude from dominatrix to someone's sweater wearing aunt would also be jarring if Bakugo actually gave a shit, but it does seem to be enough to confuse a lot of the others. Class B's homeroom teacher is their other chaperon for the day and no one seems willing to tell Vlad King that the overcoat and hat make him look more conspicuous than not. Eventually the buses pull into a rest area just outside of the town proper.
Once they all gather outside, Midnight pats Vlad's arm with an overly sweet expression. Rolling his eyes, Vlad takes a knee and allows Midnight to step up on his other braced leg, wrapping an arm around his shoulder for balance. With the extra height, she's able to easy call out to the whole group.
“Alright, everyone, listen up! There are camping grounds near here-” She points to the north. “-and a good neighborhood to walk through there,” she says, now pointing into town. “Mr. Vlad will be braving the wilderness for those of you who would like to try and glean your inspiration from nature. I'll be escorting those of you who would rather avoid getting mud on your shoes. Stick with your partner and stay with your group! You are not to wander off, understood?”
“Yes, ma'am!” the students reply.
“Excellent!” She hops off of Vlad and he stands. “Alright, let's form two groups! Those of you coming with me, over here!”
Kirishima has already found Tetsutetsu and they seem to be debating which group to join. Bakugo glances around for Shiozaki for a minute before he finds her. She's got herself wrapped up in some sort of shawl, an extra length of it draped over her hair in a more natural looking attempt to conceal her most noticeable feature. Once they make eye contact, he jerks his head in Vlad's direction.
“Hurry up, let's go,” he tells her, turning to join the group when something wraps around his ankle and almost causes him to eat gravel. He catches himself at the last second, but he flails hard enough that others notice and snicker at him. “Shut the hell up! You wanna die?!” he shouts, fuming as he grabs the offending vine around his foot. Angrily he turns on Shiozaki who merely regards him patiently. “What's the big idea, Thorn Head?!”
“Forgive me, He of Wrath-”
“He of what?!”
“-but I'd like for us to go with Ms. Midnight's group.”
“And why the hell would we do that? Don't you like plants and shit?”
“I have an idea for a subject. The best place to find it in order to show you would be in town.”
“Is that a fact?”
Bakugo frowns and spares a glance to where other groups are already congregating around Midnight. He's in the middle of weighing just how hard set he is on the nature trek when he sees that bastard Todoroki and some no-name extra move toward her group. That alone is irritating but his decision is only solidified when Deku and Monoma also join.
Sharply, Bakugo turns and stomps in Vlad's direction.
“Hell no.”
“But-” Shiozaki starts.
“Hey, you two! Hurry up!” Kirishima is already standing with the hiking group as he shouts and waves them over. “Spots are almost full!”
“Shiozaki!” Tetsutetsu calls out. “You ready to stretch your legs with us after that bus ride?”
Bakugo watches over his shoulder as Shiozaki's expression shifts from exasperation to something conflicted before settling on resignation. With reluctant deference she moves to join them.
“A peaceful walk does sound nice,” she says, though her voice doesn't carry much conviction in the idea. Tetsutetsu regards her curiously, but Kirishima just smiles at them all.
“This'll be fun! Bakugo and I went hiking over the break. It was awesome!”
Bakugo ignores them as he starts to take his dad's camera out from the bag slung over his shoulder. He frowns once he gets it turned on, because the colors shown on the digital screen look off. His dad must have been doing some artsy shots, what with the contrast and saturation set like they are, but getting them back to normal isn't easy when all he has to work with is the ground beneath their feet. He messes with them a bit before clicking his tongue in annoyance and looking up to Kirishima.
“Oi, don't move.”
He brings the camera up to his eye and reaches out with his other hand to the side of Kirishima's face, turning him to look directly into the lens. Bakugo quickly snaps a picture and immediately zooms in on Kirishima's hair. On the screen it looks almost gray, but now when Bakugo adjusts the settings, he knows exactly when he's reached the right saturation when that gray bleeds into a bright red.
“Everyone,” Vlad King calls out to the crowd around him. “Let's head out.”
-
The rest of the day is uneventful, but he really can't say that he minds. There's something calming about finding the best shot possible of any subject of interest. He's not being terribly picky at the moment; this is an inspiration outing, after all. He'll sort through them later and pick out the ones that actually have potential for their theme.
Triumph. Mountains are triumphant, right? He snaps a picture of them in the distance. There's definitely a feeling of victory every time he successfully scales the side of one. Granted, he's yet to really tackle anything that doesn't take an afternoon to ascend but maybe one day he'll actually find the time for something far more challenging. Maybe he'd invite Kirishima, if the idiot's not banished to remedial hell with Aizawa. Blinking as he lowers the camera from his eye, Bakugo takes a quick look around for him.
Instead, he sees Shiozaki.
She's removed the shawl from her head, standing off of the path and looking up into the canopy of the trees above her. Sunlight scatters around and on her, broken up by the shadow of the leaves. She closes her eyes and clasps her hands just as the wind picks up slightly, blowing the tree limbs to the side just long enough for unobstructed light to surround her.
“The hell are you doing?” Bakugo can't help but ask. Slowly she opens her eyes to look at him.
“Conditioning,” she says as the breeze picks up the vines of her hair just so and the sunlight around her takes on an almost holy aura.
Bakugo pins her with a look of disbelief or disgust, he's honestly not sure what his face is doing, before making an about-face and walking the fuck away.
Yards off, and after carelessly pushing through other pairs, he manages to find the two hard heads he's been searching for.
“I know! How about we make a sculpture of All Might fighting a bear!”
“As manly as that sounds, why would All Might fight a bear?” Kirishima asks, but Tetsutetsu insists with all the gusto of a moron.
“Who cares about the why? The only thing you should be caring about is how cool it would look!”
Kirishima actually has the audacity to like he's considering it, with a contemplative hand on his chin and everything. Bakugo starts a march in their direction but doesn't stop when he reaches them, just throws an arm out to clothesline Kirishima by the neck and start dragging him away.
“Whoa, hey!” Kirishima flails for a second before letting himself be pulled along.
“What's the big idea?” Tetsutetsu yells after them.
“Can it, Metal Face!” Bakugo yells right back. He feels Kirishima twist under his arm, but not enough to indicate that he's trying to get away.
“We'll be right back! … I think!” he says to reassure Tetsutetsu before shifting again under the arm holding him in place to face the same direction Bakugo is heading. “Lemme guess,” he starts. “Man versus Bear isn't your thing.”
“All Might would never waste his time fighting a damn bear.”
“What if the bear robbed a bank?”
“Are you fucking stupid or some-” Bakugo stops mid-shout when he looks over to Kirishima and realizes he's being teased. He tightens his grip to pull Kirishima into a full headlock. “You're not funny, asshole!”
“Watch your camera, dude!” Kirishima says, hardening his neck to keep Bakugo from being able to lock him in too tightly. His dad's camera is dangling from a strap around his own neck, but Bakugo's not as concerned with it as he is teaching Kirishima a lesson. With his defenses in place, though, Kirishima doesn't seem overly bothered with Bakugo trying to crush his windpipe and instead reaches out for the camera. “Have you taken any good pictures?”
“I'm gonna take one of your corpse if you keep being an idiot!”
“Evidence of the crime. I don't think I'm the idiot here.”
Bakugo lets go of his strangle hold and grabs the camera back. Kirishima doesn't fight him, just laughs and takes a relaxed stance. Bakugo grumbles angrily as he pulls up the picture he took of the mountain and turns the screen. Kirishima leans over excitedly as he takes a look but a small frown replaces his grin seconds later.
“Is that it?” he asks. Small warning explosions ignite in Bakugo's free hand. Kirishima raises his own in peace. “I just mean! Well, it's a little... Uh. Underwhelming?” He hardens his head in time before Bakugo slams his palm down on his hair with a series of blasts. “What about Shiozaki?” he asks, unfazed. “Did she have any good ideas?”
“The hell if I know. She's busy fixing her hair.”
“Bakugo, she's your partner. Have you even asked yet? Or have you been giving her the cold-shoulder?” Bakugo doesn't answer him as he glares down at the mountain on the screen for apparently being underwhelming. Kirishima rolls his eyes. “You can't treat her like an extra anymore, man. You gotta make an effort here.”
“Make an effort? I'm gonna be carrying this damn team! I'm already putting in the most fucking effort!”
“That's not what I mean and you know it,” Kirishima says, shaking his head. “Guess I shouldn't be surprised, though.”
There's a disappointed tone to his voice that causes Bakugo's stomach to sink in a way he's only felt a handful of times in his life. Not surprised? What in the hell is that supposed to mean? Bakugo feels his anger boil up from the pit his gut has fallen into, rising up into his throat and coloring his face. He's almost shaking from the violence of it tearing up his insides. Before any reflexive vitriol can slip through his clenched teeth, Kirishima shakes his head again and offers him small smile.
“Look, Bakugo, you give 110% in everything you do and the results are always badass, no one's arguing that. But that's not what Ms. Midnight is trying to get out of us, you know? You should try to keep that in mind, is all I’m saying.”
The rage in his blood begins to cool just as quickly as it set fire, and it leaves him feeling unbalanced. Had it been anyone else, he'd have let that rage burn wild and told Kirishima to go fuck himself. But Kirishima isn't useless Deku or one of his other obnoxious classmates. It's bullshit, but what Kirishima says and thinks matters for some reason, without any say from Bakugo, and sure, he's not wrong about their lame-ass assignment. Idiots, like broken clocks, are right at least twice a day, he guesses. Looking up from where he has his camera in a death grip, he sees Kirishima regarding him with slight apprehension.
“Keep that in mind? I don't wanna hear shit like that from someone who can't remember a simple math process for more than a day.”
The defeated groan Kirishima lets out defuses what's left of the tension between them as they rejoin the other groups.
They load up in the buses again when the sun starts going down. This time, Kirishima makes his way to the back of the bus with Tetsutetsu and gives Bakugo a meaningful look. Bakugo huffs and looks out the window, but makes a point to move his camera bag when Shiozaki boards. She notices and give him a small nod before sitting down. There they sit in awkward silence until the bus starts moving.
As inconspicuously as he can, he chances a glance back to Kirishima only to irritably turn back when he's given an encouraging thumbs up. With tense movements, he pulls the memory card from the camera and shoves it into Shiozaki's space, causing her to startle a bit.
“These are the shots I took. You can go through them and see if any give you ideas.”
Shiozaki slowly takes the card from him with an expression that says she already has an opinion, but thankfully for both of them she merely nods once more and pockets the memory card.
-
Bakugo does his best to forget about the assignment, at least for the night. He spends a ridiculous amount of time rewriting his math notes in a way even toddlers can comprehend, for no other reason than because he can, and even digs out the highlighters Raccoon Eyes keeps squirreling away in other people's pencil bags because hers is too full of glitter pens and animal erasers, like a fucking kindergartner. He's already promised to blow them up in her face first thing tomorrow in class, but he might as well get some use out of them now.
The only reason he slams the notebook on Kirishima's desk in homeroom the next day before stomping over to his own is because he's not the one who needs it to avoid failing, and hiking with his dad all the time during their breaks gets boring. He keeps his eyes forward even though he can feel Kirishima's ear-to-ear grin from across the room.
“Thanks, Bakugo!”
“Thank me when you pass, moron.”
“Yeah! Lunch will be on me tomorrow!”
His chest does that thing again, accompanied by a fluttering feeling in his gut that's probably indigestion but makes him turn his face into the palm his chin was resting on anyway. He stubbornly ignores Kirishima for the rest of the morning which does wonders in helping him focus. He's finally in a calmer state of mind when their joint art class with Class B rolls around. He's actually kind of impressed when he sees the preparations made for them since just yesterday.
There are curtains hung from the high ceiling, cordoning off each team's work area. Most only require an easel and canvas, but he sees Jirou and some Class B nobody setting up with a guitar and a keyboard. Across from them, there's a burst of flame that shoots out from behind one of the curtains before Todoroki calmly backs up and wipes sweat from his forehead. The weak-ass solid air kid from the sports festival pokes his head out and gives Icy Hot a thumbs up. With that much firepower at work, Bakugo is pissed to admit he's curious enough to want to take a look. Instead he sets a determined march toward his and Shiozaki's section. She's already sitting at the laptop set up for their editing.
“Are you perhaps hedging your bets, He of Wrath?” she asks out of nowhere.
“The hell are you talking about?” he grumbles as he straddles the back of the second chair.
“We agreed on Triumph as our competition category, yet you have included such a strong contender for Affection in the photos from yesterday.”
“You better start making sense, Green Peace, or I'm skipping class and going back to the dorms,” he says, already feeling a vein throb in his forehead. Shiozaki's face turns pink as she cups her face in her hands.
“The naked adoration! The loving caress! Lively colors accenting warm eyes and an endearing smile. A depiction of Hanael made flesh!”
“... I'm gonna go take a nap.” Bakugo is halfway out of his chair when Shiozaki turns the screen and he stops dead in his tracks. On the screen is the test shot he took. At the time, he was only focused on fixing the saturation of his camera, but now the whole of the picture is there for him to see.
Kirishima's face stares back at him with a look that nearly knocks the air out of his lungs. The expression he's giving the camera is tender, his pretty eyes full of fondness and framed by loose red bangs, with a small amused smile on his lips. The hand Bakugo used to manhandle his head into position has no right looking that gentle; his hands were never meant for gentleness to begin with, but to see his holding Kirishima's cheek like that... To see the way Kirishima is looking at him...
Bakugo springs forward and slams the laptop shut, just barely keeping his hands in check and not blowing it to kingdom come. But the effort he puts into stopping himself from destroying school property means he can't keep a hot flush from bleeding into his face, one so strong it makes the skin across his nose tingle. He turns stiffly to Shiozaki, wide-eyed and manic.
“Delete it...”
“Heavens no! Why would you want to-”
“DELETE IT!”
Midnight eventually comes over to see what all the explosions are about, but by then Bakugo's lost track of the memory card and Shiozaki has barricaded herself behind her hair.
-
He gets detention that afternoon. Midnight makes him clean up not only the scorch marks he made on the floor, but some of the mess left by other teams as well. He doesn't argue however, because even though he definitely has better things to do, he also needs some time to himself. Even when he was under house arrest, there was something calming in losing himself to the menial task of cleaning.
Stupid Thorn Head and her stupid romantic bullshit. Affection his ass. He's not going to change categories just because he took a picture of Kirishima mid-expression. That's all it was, a snapshot between dopey smiles. It didn't mean anything. Kirishima smiles at anyone and anything. It's not like this one was special.
Bakugo stops his scrubbing and frowns.
It's been a hard lesson for him to learn since coming to UA, that while he is talented and strong, he's by no means exceptional. Most of his classmates are obnoxiously competent which makes standing out more difficult than it should be for someone as powerful as he is. It's a harsh realization he has had to carry over to other aspects of his life; Kirishima being friendly with him of all people is not something as monumental as some idiots would believe, because Kirishima is friendly with everyone. Schoolmate or rival, acquaintance or stranger, Kirishima is always ready to step forward with the best of intentions. So no. Nothing about that picture means that Bakugo is special.
He isn't. Not at UA and certainly not to Kirishima.
Bakugo petulantly throws the sponge to the ground and glares at the suds. So what? As if being special to anyone really mattered to him. He's here to become the world's best hero, not somebody's important person or whatever the fuck. Stupid fucking Thorn Head and her stupid fucking romantic bullshit.
“Did you scuff the floor that badly, dude?”
Bakugo stiffens for a split second before turning his glare behind him.
“Why are you still here?” he asks before picking up his sponge and getting back to it. He refuses to look at Kirishima when he sits down next to him to watch.
“Lost some time teaching Tetsutetsu how to make a slab and score clay. Our project's gonna take a lot of work and I don't want us to fall behind.” Kirishima holds up a hand and begins to count his clay covered fingers. “I wanted to get the slip made, start the coil for the base, make sure we had enough paper for the-” He stops when his stomach growls loudly. He sighs pathetically and wraps his arms around his middle. “Seemed worth skipping lunch for...”
Bakugo rolls his eyes.
“Sounds like you morons figured out what you're doing. It better not be a damn bear,” he says.
Kirishima's hungry pout suddenly changes into a wide and, dare Bakugo think it, mischievous grin. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of notebook paper. He opens it and holds it up for Bakugo to see. On it is a crappy sketch of two vaguely humanoid figures who appear to be clasping hands on a pedestal. It takes Bakugo a minute of squinting, because he was right in his belief that Kirishima can't draw for shit, but he finally gets it.
“Arm wrestling? Are you serious?”
“Seems relevant don't you think?” Kirishima asks with small hint of pride in his voice. “A triumphant moment in our sports festival history...” His tone is leading as he raises an eyebrow and leans forward as if waiting for Bakugo to catch on.
“... It's your tie-breaker with Metal Face,” Bakugo says flatly.
“Got it!”
“How the hell did you manage to talk him into that?”
“He hasn't figured it out yet!” Kirishima laughs whole-heartedly, clutching his sides. “He thinks it's just, like, some random Olympic event or something that we're sculpting.” He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. “I can't wait 'til he notices. It's gonna be so damn funny!”
Bakugo can't help the twitch he feels at the corner of his mouth just imagining Tetsutetsu losing his shit when he realizes Kirishima has played him.
“Idiot,” he mumbles and hates how soft it sounds.
“It's gonna be great and you know it,” Kirishima says as he looks to Bakugo's cleaning bucket. “Hey! I'll make you a deal,” he says. “I'll help you finish up here so we can eat before lunch ends if you promise to go over my practice sheets before the test.” He picks up a rag without even waiting for Bakugo to accept. Bakugo in turn grits his teeth and drops his sponge again.
“I gave you my notes!”
“And they really helped! I just wanna make sure I understand it as well as I think I do. C'mon, man, we both know all you're going to do tonight is go to bed early otherwise. You should make better use of your time by helping out your best bro.”
Bakugo is a half-second away from telling Kirishima that he'd rather starve to death than go over those formulas one more time, even goes so far as to grab Kirishima's face in both hands to get him to fully pay attention to just how done Bakugo is with this math nonsense. But right as he's gearing up to really let Kirishima have it, he stops. Almost against his will, his eyes are drawn to where his thumbs rest on high cheekbones and soft skin and it makes his throat feel inexplicably dry.
After a moment of awkward stillness, Kirishima's smile drops a bit.
“What are you doing?” he asks quietly. Bakugo flinches just slightly before deepening his frown.
“Trying to will the stupid out of you, obviously,” he says, and it feels like a decent recovery.
“Ha! Finally giving up? I thought you were going to beat it out of me.”
The words I still might, jackass stall in Bakugo's mouth because there it is again.
Right here in the middle of their deserted art room, Kirishima is looking at him like that again, only this time Bakugo isn't focused on anything else. Kirishima is looking at him with so much fondness, so much fucking affection that Bakugo feels his chest tighten sharply yet again and a traitorous thought poisons his mind with false hope; this is special, it lies. This look is just for him, and he's holding it between his increasingly sweaty hands.
Kirishima must smell the strengthening scent of burning sweetness because he blinks confusedly, and suddenly Bakugo can feel those soft cheeks turn to smooth, cut stone underneath his fingertips. Despite this, Kirishima makes no move to pull away from the literal hand grenades on the sides of his face.
“What's the matter, Blasty?” he asks in such a stupidly soft voice tinged with stupid concern for Bakugo's stupid sweaty palms that Bakugo does the first thing that comes to mind to quell the sudden and overpowering urge to kiss him.
He headbutts Kirishima instead.
The resulting smack is loud as they rear back from one another from the force of the hit but what's even louder is Kirishima's laughter.
“Pfffft, ow!” Even rubbing his forehead, he's grinning. “Dirty tactics, you jerk!”
Bakugo is too busy shaking out the ringing in his ears and the red in his face to answer.
-
Though he never officially agrees to the deal, Kirishima helps him finish cleaning with enough time for them to grab some food in the cafeteria before their lunch period is over. Bakugo is steadily coming down from his delusions as he watches Kirishima greet their classmates and chat enthusiastically with them without bias.
Most are already leaving to prepare for their next class, and Bakugo finds himself appreciating the comfortable silence he and Kirishima fall into as they eat. He's starting to regain his equilibrium and his common sense when Shiozaki approaches their table. Bakugo begins drinking his water with more aggression than necessary as he purposefully ignores her, even after she clears her throat to get his attention. It takes an elbow to the side from Kirishima before he slams his bottle down.
“What,” he asks her bluntly.
“If you are unwilling to switch categories, then I would like for us to think more seriously about our subject. You've been resistant to all suggestion, yet have offered none of your own in return. We will never be victorious at this rate-”
“Do you have a point, or are you gonna keep wasting my time?” he asks, cutting her off. Though Shiozaki started off strong, she now purses her lips together and seems at a loss with her momentum broken.
“Hey, man,” Kirishima says next to him. “It's her project, too. You need to hear her out.”
Bakugo instinctively wants to bite back, to remind them both who will be carrying the dumb project anyway, but he feels the heat of Kirishima's gaze on the side of his face. Goddamnit, he thinks. Fine. Whatever. She's gonna have to start contributing to this thing anyway and-
“Thank you, O Muse, but this is a challenge that I must overcome on my own,” Shiozaki says, hand to her heart.
“Uh, sure, but.... wha?” Kirishima asks. Bakugo starts sweating profusely, eyes shifting between them quickly.
“When I am a hero, I may very well face such hostility from other heroes who are reluctant to engage in cooperative efforts. I will have to convey my ideas concisely and with conviction.”
“Concisely my ass...” Bakugo mocks under his breath, earning him another elbow from Kirishima. Shiozaki then takes a strong stance and points to him.
“Bakugo Katsuki, I have an excellent idea for a subject. You will meet me tomorrow after school and we will search it out. Together. As a team.” Her finger doesn't waver and her expression is determined. Bakugo sees Kirishima give her a thumbs up out of the corner of his eye but is feeling gracious enough to pretend he didn't.
“It better be good, Green Peace,” he tells her as he crosses his arms. A small, accomplished smile spreads across her lips and she bows to him politely.
“It will be, I promise you.” With that, she turns and leaves them. Bakugo rolls his eyes, groaning, but Kirishima pats him on the shoulder.
“You did great, dude!” he says, as if Bakugo is the one who needs assurance.
“I hate this,” Bakugo admits, squeezing his water bottle. Kirishima is quiet for a moment.
“You're really not into the whole partner thing, huh?” he finally asks with an odd tone to his voice. Bakugo looks at him curiously but can't quite decipher his expression.
“Lemme guess, you are?”
It's a needless question; people-magnet Kirishima is always down for team-ups. But there's something in the way Kirishima shrugs that makes Bakugo anxious.
“Well, you know,” he says lightly, but no, Bakugo doesn't know, and that feels like a problem. Before he can decide if he wants to ask, the bell rings to signal the end of their lunch period. “Let's go!” Kirishima jumps up from his seat. Bakugo frowns as he picks up his tray to follow him. Maybe he'll bring it up later, if he still cares to...
-
He does. He does still care. It bothers him all goddamn day, to the point of being just a little bit maddening.
Throughout the rest of their classes, Bakugo can't help but watch Kirishima from a distance, and what he sees annoys him. Even though Kirishima still smiles and laughs with classmates during hero training, there's an underlining sadness in his eyes whenever he thinks no one is looking. He's like that for the rest of the afternoon, subdued and melancholy in an unobtrusive way that flies under the radar of the others. It's aggravating as hell to witness, making Bakugo want nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and shake him back to normal.
He does the next best thing he can think of; when it comes time to pair up with someone for two-on-two matches, he immediately calls out to him.
“Shitty Hair! You and me. We're killing these nerds,” he says confidently. Kirishima only looks shocked for a brief moment before his face splits into a large, sharp toothed grin as he slams his fists together.
“Told you to stop saying stuff like that, Blasty! But yeah, we got this!”
Ojirou and Sato put up a decent enough fight, but the end result is inevitable. With Kirishima's defense and Bakugo's firepower working in tandem, they move seamlessly with one another. Before Bakugo can take a hit, Kirishima is there acting as a shield. When they focus on breaking through Kirishima's fortifications, Bakugo is free to use his wildest attacks. It's exhilarating, how efficiently they tear through their opponents, how quickly they secure the victory.
When Kirishima holds up his fist to him at the end of it all, he doesn't even think twice before pounding his against it. The genuine smile Kirishima gives him is intoxicating in a way that leaves him feeling lightheaded. It lasts until Sparky wanders over to whine at them.
“Kirishima, buddy, why'd you ditch me?” He clutches Kirishima's shoulders and laments. “Now I'm stuck with Mina-”
“Gee, thanks, Kaminari!”
“-and the first thing Midoriya is gonna do is kick me into the sun!” Kanimari makes a face at the thought of it. “I'm done for now!” Kirishima rubs the back of his neck guiltily.
“Sorry, man. But you just have to keep your distance, right? Don't let him get close to you.”
“Like it's gonna be that easy. Ugh, I'm too pretty to get my face beat in. You gotta promise me, man. When we go pro, you have to be there to make sure no one knocks my teeth out.”
“I'll knock your teeth out if you don't stop your bitching!” Bakugo finally snaps, but neither Kaminari nor Kirishima is listening to him, and Bakugo watches in slow dawning horror as Kirishima's expression turns quietly thoughtful.
“Yeah, dude,” Kirishima finally says. “I bet we'd make a pretty tough team.”
“Yes!” Kaminari punches the air right as Ashido angrily grabs him by the collar and drags him into the ring for their match. Kirishima wanders over to give them encouragement from the out-of-bounds line while Bakugo stays rooted where he is, fists clenched and blood gone cold.
-
That night he almost doesn't answer his door when Kirishima comes to his room to study. He's been stewing since afternoon classes and no one does self-perpetuated anger quite like he does. He's not exactly sure why he's angry, just that Kirishima wasting his time entertaining the idea of going pro with Kaminari really pisses him off. He let's the idiot in anyway, because Bakugo will literally strangle someone to death if Kirishima fails this math test.
“You keep plugging in the wrong numbers for this one. Over and over and over-”
“Okay, I get it!”
“-and over again. The rest of these are fine,” Bakugo says, pushing back the corrected practice sheets. He's actually kind of impressed by the progress he's made since the last chapter. Kirishima brightens and sits up straight.
“Really? Awesome! Your notes were amazing, a lot easier to understand than in class. You know, if the hero thing doesn't work out, you'd make a pretty good teacher,” Kirishima has the balls to say. Bakugo kicks at his leg.
“Fucking as if! Of course it's gonna work out! I'm gonna be the goddamn best hero Japan has ever seen, and that includes All Might, just you watch!” He slams his hand a couple of times on his desk for emphasis. Kirishima chuckles and holds up his hands.
“I know, man, I was just kidding!” His expression turns wistful. “It's gonna be something watching you get there. Can't wait to see it!” The room goes quiet then, Kirishima smiling sadly down at his notes and Bakugo left wondering what to say.
“The hell is that about?” he asks suddenly. Kirishima blinks up at him. “Aren't you supposed say that you'll be the best? That I'll have to fight you for it or something?” Kirishima laughs again and shakes his head.
“Nah, man. I'm not one of your rivals, remember? That's Midoriya and Todoroki.”
“I'm gonna leave those losers choking on my dust!”
“Sure, sure. Don't get me wrong, in our training I'm definitely gonna go at you with all I got!” Kirishima does his signature move again, though he falls out of it all too quickly. “But, you know. When I think about it...” He trails off.
“Think about what?” Bakugo asks. His shoulders are tense as he prepares to hear the same self-deprecating bullshit Kirishima keep dropping on himself. He's not sure what more he can do or say to get him to realize none of it is true. Maybe he can beat it into his head like those math problems.
“Well, my quirk. It's just...”
Bakugo squares up.
“I just feel like I get the most out of it when I'm working with someone else. Does that make sense?” Kirishima glances up at him almost nervously before pressing on. “I've always wanted to stand out more, but the truth is I don't think I'm really meant for the solo gig. More than being noticed, I want to do the most good, and I think that's only possible if I'm working with someone whose quirk is compatible with mine.”
But why Sparky, Bakugo wants to ask him. Why not...
Bakugo sits heavily back into his desk chair and turns away, glaring down at his smoking hands.
“So hey,” Kirishima says behind him. It's clear he's about to change the subject and Bakugo is torn as to whether or not he's gonna let him. “You think I stand a chance at passing this time?”
“If you don't, I'll kill you,” Bakugo says, without even turning around.
“Ha ha, that's fair. I'll probably deserve it at that point. Plus, death will get me out of having to do 2am summer school again.” Kirishima falls backwards onto the floor arms spread. “But you know what! I'm feeling pretty good about this one. Enough to call it a night on the studying.”
“Slacker.”
“Let's watch a movie! You're not tired yet either, right?”
Bakugo doesn't even put up that much of a fight. He's normally asleep by this time, but Kirishima's right. He's not tired right now, just confused and annoyed. A distraction would probably help, so they crawl up onto his bed to get more comfortable and set his laptop between them.
-
The city block is a mess of ruined buildings and smoke filled air. Destruction is evident on nearly every stretch of asphalt in sight. But the dark clouds above everything slowly begin to part, light shining on civilians as they gather, looking rough for sure, but mostly unharmed. They smile at one another, at first responders, and police officers.
And at him.
When they see him, they begin to cheer. It's a relieved chorus of gratitude and awe, the happy cries of men and women, the adoration of children at their parents' legs, all of it rises high and loud as he walks toward the heaping pile of what used to be a hostile robot. He climbs up on it to elevate himself above everything.
“Number one! Number one!” the crowd below him begins to chant. Achievement and victory burn through him, make him smile ruthlessly down at the broken remains of the enemy. He scans the scene to take it all in but stops when he sees another group in the distance. Another crowd has formed, a group of heroes who also fought in the battle. But instead of him, they're gathered around someone else.
Red Riot stands with his back to Bakugo, but there's no way he could be mistaken for anyone else. He's shaking hands with those circling him, taking their pats on the back easily, thanking those near him for their hard work. Though he can't see his face, Bakugo knows he's smiling; he can see it in the eyes of the other heroes who look at him in veneration. Kirishima turns to each of them, one by one, and congratulates them.
Look at me, Bakugo thinks, even as the crowd at his feet continues to sing his praises. Turn around and look at me.
But Kirishima doesn't. He begins to move further into the throng of heroes, is quickly absorbed by them, pulled out of Bakugo's sight. Without warning, the air around him turns bitterly cold despite the flaming wreckage surrounding him. Suddenly he couldn't care less about the cheering being done in his name. He feels alone in a way he's never felt before, and wants nothing more than to reach out for Kirishima and drag him up on that pedestal with him.
Fuck it, he thinks, and he moves to do just that-
-
“Shit!”
Bakugo hits the ground hard and stares up at his bedroom ceiling. His breathing is shallow and fast, as if he's trying to take in enough oxygen to fill the painful, empty space within his chest. He stays there for a bit, ignoring the moisture he feels at the corner of his eyes and focusing on the early morning light filtering through his curtains.
Slowly he pushes himself up. Stupid fucking dream. Stupid fucking subconscious. Stupid fucking Kirishi-
Bakugo pauses abruptly in pulling himself back up onto the bed.
It becomes obvious why he fell off. Kirishima is lying practically dead center on the mattress, his hair splayed out over Bakugo's favorite pillow, the laptop forgotten near the foot of the bed. A hand is curled next to his sleeping face, but it does nothing to obstruct the view of dark eyelashes fanned across smooth cheeks or the way his mouth moves just slightly when he breathes. The sun hasn't quite risen enough to shine in his eyes yet, but it's slowly creeping up his still body and any minute now it will wake him.
Bakugo doesn't dare look away, but he blindly reaches beside him, feeling across the floor until he finds the camera bag he placed under his nightstand. In quick, jerky movements, he pulls the camera out and turns it on.
The shutter sound is so goddamn loud and judgmental at 6am.
-
"I'm gonna do it!" Kirishima says later that morning before their math test, standing outside the door to their classroom as he psyches himself up. "I'm gonna pass!"
Bakugo stands behind him, hands in his pockets and face hard set.
"Fail and you're dead to me."
"I'm gonna pass!" Kirishima shouts this time, charging into the room with so quickly he almost knocks over Shoji.
"That's the right mentality, Kirishima!" Iida encourages as he chops the air. "We should all strive to maintain such a positive approach to our schoolwork!"
"That's not positivity, man, that's desperation," Sero snickers into his hand. Kirishima turns to him and throws an arm over his shoulder.
"You're on thin ice, Sero," he warns.
"So's your grade! Hey, ow! Cut it out!" The friendly arm becomes a headlock and suddenly the class is egging them on from the sidelines. At least until Aizawa walks in for homeroom, and then, like magic, they're all quietly in their assigned seats ready to face a new day of learning.
-
After classes it takes a little convincing, but eventually Bakugo and Shiozaki (well... mostly Shiozaki) manage to talk Aizawa into being their chaperon for their little excursion. For safety reasons, no student is allowed to just leave campus without a teacher or parent to escort them. They probably could have chosen better, as it turns out Aizawa can't actually drive. They end up taking the train into the city instead. It's shaping up to be an awkwardly quiet ride, but eventually Shiozaki turns to him.
“Would it be alright if I familiarized myself with the camera?” she asks politely, but Bakugo can recognize an eagerness in her expression, like a kid wanting to play with a new toy. Rolling his eyes, he pulls it out and hands it to her.
“You break it, you die.”
“Yes, of course,” she says, no longer disconcerted by his odd threats.
She gingerly takes it in her hands and begins to look through the features. Bakugo looks away from her to watch the scenery pass. This had better all be worth the trouble, but they're falling behind in terms of production, so anything at this point might have to do.
“Ah,” he hears Shiozaki say beside him. “The collection of your muse yet grows.” Bakugo's head whips around so fast he thinks he might have pulled something in his neck. The screen displays the incriminating photo from this morning. “Taking pictures while he sleeps now? If I did not know you, O Collaborator, I'd suspect you of being a pervert.”
It's impossible to miss the way Aizawa coughs a laugh into his fist.
“You don't know shit!” Bakugo, red-faced, yells in the middle of the packed train, ignoring the way other commuters give him looks.
“So you are a pervert.”
“STOP TALKING!”
She does, going back to fiddling with the camera's functions while Bakugo fumes in his seat and dodges the look Aizawa is giving him from over the knitted scarf he's replaced his capture weapon with. When they reach their stop, Bakugo tries to power through the crowd to get away from the both of them fast, but Aizawa simply grabs the back of his jacket and holds him in place so that they're last to get off. Once on the platform, Bakugo struggles to get out of his hold, only released after Aizawa pulls him to the side.
“You kids are determined to make my job more troublesome than it needs to be, aren't you?”
Bakugo scowls and says nothing.
“No more sleepovers, alright? Not in the dorms. You're your parents' problems off campus, but mine while you're at school, and I'd rather not have to do room checks every single night, understand?” Though the words are stern, Bakugo still catches amusement in his lazy tone, as if Bakugo is the last person he thought he'd be having this talk with, and it pisses him off more than the implications of what Aizawa's saying.
“You done?” he asks through gritted teeth. Aizawa nods and they rejoin Shiozaki who is waiting for them. They're only a few yards away from the platform before Shiozaki points ahead.
“There!” she exclaims. “Something like that!” She jogs over to a crack in the sidewalk and sits on her heels in front of it. Bakugo doesn't bother getting there quickly, but when he finally walks up behind her he sees what she is referring to. From the long and meandering crack, several blades of grass are poking through. Among them is a dandelion, standing tall and bowing ever so slightly when the wind kicks up.
“... You want to take a picture of some lame-ass weed?” he asks.
“It's not just about the weeds,” she says, holding her hands out and closing her eyes. “Imagine it. Being buried beneath cold concrete only to emerge triumphant from certain doom, breaking free from restraint and claiming victory over-”
Bakugo leans down and plucks the dandelion, releasing a tiny explosion that turns the whole thing to ash.
“Heavens, what are you doing?!” Shiozaki jumps up and stares forlornly at the smoking remains held in Bakugo's hand.
“It's just gonna spread more weeds. Do you know what a pain in the ass it is to have to pull these up in the summer?” Bakugo does. Every year the hag makes him go out into his dad's garden and yank the little shits out. No matter the weather, no matter the heat. Every. Goddamn. Year. He's such a good fucking son. Shiozaki takes an angry stance, hands on her hips and mouth set in a hard line.
“I was trying to make a point!”
“Then be fucking concise about it, already!” Bakugo shoots back. Shiozaki blinks and her face turns thoughtful.
“Oh yes! Of course.” She brings a hand to her chin and begins speaking softly to herself. “I must remember how unnecessarily rude and difficult my partner is and adapt my methods to achieve the outcome I desire.”
“I can hear you, damnit!”
“Bakugo!” she says, pointing at him strongly again.
“For fuck's sake...”
“This is the subject I want to use for our project! Perhaps not this dandelion, perhaps not this sidewalk. But I've no doubt we'll find a worthy contender if we simply work together and keep our eyes open!”
Bakugo can't wait until this is all over.
-
Two goddamn hours later, even Aizawa appears to be nearing the end of his tolerance for this outing. They've walked a number of blocks around small shops, large businesses, under-kept parking lots, and alleyways. Bakugo's been taking shots here and there of the ones Shiozaki points out, but so far most of them have looked pathetic and pitiable, nothing but feeble stems and frail buds. Given the time of year, it's understandable. Shiozaki insists they still fit the theme, but Bakugo will be damned if they submit something so damn weak looking.
He's close to calling it quits on this massive waste of time, growing increasingly agitated as he scrolls through the shots. They can hit up the nearest rock climbing area and take a picture of him kicking its ass. Without gear, because he's just that good. Enough messing with filters and the lighting and boom; it'll be magazine quality and everything. Done. Finished. Complete.
Even as he thinks it, he frowns at how half-assed it sounds. He doesn't do shit half-assed, he does things with everything he's got and more, 110% just like Kirishima said. His finger pauses just above the button when he accidentally scrolls too far back to the photo taken from this morning.
His frown turns wobbly and he kind of hates it. He goes back even further to That Picture, the one that makes his chest feel heavy and his face hot. That Affection category is looking more doable by the second, as annoying as that thought may be. Shitty Kirishima with his shitty bright eyes and his shitty bright smile, doing things to his head without his say-so.
“... I'm gonna kick his ass,” he mutters to himself, absolutely not pouting as he flips between pictures.
“Sometimes striking the rock will do you little good, O Collaborator. You should try speaking softly for once,” Shiozak says from beside him. Bakugo flinches before glaring at her.
“Kirishima likes a good fight, the hell are you talking about?”
“... Kendo was right,” Shiozaki says, shaking her head. “Boys are dumb.”
“Listen here, Thorn Head-!”
“Thirty more minutes, you two,” Aizawa calls to them, looking up from his phone. “After that, we're heading back to campus. It's almost dinner time.”
Shiozaki bows to him in acknowledgment while Bakugo stomps away from them both. He is so done with this entire fucking thing; the terrible cooperative project, Shiozaki and her romanticism, Kirishima and his dumb face. All of it. Rock climbing photoshoot is a-go now, he doesn't give a shit anymore-
He comes to a stand-still at the opening of a dead-end alley. There's something that catches his eye at the very back, a slash of color that breaks up the endless neutral browns and grays. He senses Shiozaki stop behind him and it spurs him into movement, drawn closer to the fence blocking off some business's small garage by the greens and reds twining around chain link. Shiozaki gasps.
“Ipomoea sloteri, also known as a Cardinal Climber.” Excitement colors her voice. “It's a cultivated hybrid often used to attract hummingbirds. And yet we find it here,” she says, throwing her arms wide. “Far away from any Eden or Gethsemane, surrounded by rusted metal and breaking through minuscule fissure of unforgiving concrete. What is its survival if not a beautiful triumph over the improbable?”
“Alright, alright, tone it down for fuck's sake. I get it. It's a stupid vine growing in an even stupider place for a vine to be. Real inspiring. I'm sure Midnight will be moved to fucking tears,” Bakugo says, holding his camera up to his eye and taking the shot.
Reluctantly, he has to admit it's a good one. Where all the other plants they've looked at today have been utterly pathetic, the vine creeping up this fence seems to be thriving. The leaves are a healthy green, the budding star-shaped flowers a vibrant red, both standing in stark contrast to the washed out colors around and behind it. There's a tenacity in the way it snakes over the sharp, rusty, and faded No Trespassing sign with complete indifference to the characters' meaning that Bakugo can't help but find amusing. He centers in specifically there, waiting for the camera to bring the vine and the warning into sharp focus, leaving the background somewhat blurred.
“This will be perfect,” Shiozaki tells him confidently.
“It better be.”
-
Speak softly, Green Peace says. He's been given a lot of shitty advice in his life, but this has to be the shittiest. He lies in bed that night glaring up at his ceiling, going over the past couple of days in his head. Nothing has really happened except that too much has happened, and the impossibility of that statement irks him. It's only been still moments, nothing overly dramatic and nothing particularly earth-shattering, but Bakugo's world feels upended all the same. It's one thing to realize he may be way more attached to Kirishima than he should be, but it's another to be shackled with the knowledge that it may be completely one-sided.
Bakugo has never made friends easily. Kids gravitated to him in primary school, for various selfish reasons, and even Deku has stuck around for a disgusting amount of time, but he's never given those people much thought. He hasn't talked to the guys who followed him around in middle school since he entered UA, and he can't say he feels even an ounce of loss over it.
But Kirishima. Kirishima's different to him, has been since the sports festival when he confidently stepped up and declared himself a horse that would never break. And Kirishima's different in that connecting with others seems to be as easy as breathing for him. But that's just it, isn't it? Just because Kirishima is special to him doesn't necessarily mean he's special to Kirishima. To Kirishima, he could very well just be another friend.
The image from his dream of Red Riot being pulled away from him by a crowd of admiring heroes causes Bakugo to grind his teeth together as he sits up abruptly, hands tightening in his comforter.
So what? So fucking what? So what if he's not special to Kirishima now? Bakugo Katsuki has never been a damn quitter, and he refuses to fucking start.
Angrily, he throws off his covers and marches over to his balcony, not willing to risk the hallway should Aizawa have actually started keeping an eye on them. It's somewhat surprising when the glass sliding door doesn't break with the force he puts behind opening it, but he doesn't give a shit, not about the door and not about the loud popping of his explosions when he gives his jump a boost over to the neighboring balcony. He's prepared to bang the shit out of Kirishima's own sliding door but the boy himself is already there. It's early evening yet and his light is still on, which means he’s quick to step out, eyes wide and alert.
“Bakugo? What happened, what's going on?” He's looking past Bakugo now, scanning for any sign of danger or disruption. Bakugo doesn't answer him right away, just stands there barefoot and his shoulders stiff. Kirishima steps forward cautiously, looking him over. “Are you okay?” Bakugo breathes deeply once, twice, a third time before he speaks.
“I'm gonna be the number one hero,” he starts. Kirishima blinks a moment before nodding slowly.
“Yeah, I know,” he says quietly, without even a hint of doubt and Bakugo swallows dryly.
“After graduation, I'm gonna do the mandatory side-kick year and then I'm going pro. I'll hit top ten in the first season and then I'm taking the number one spot and everything that comes with it; the money, the fame, the respect. Everything. Everything that I've wanted since I first saw All Might fighting villains on TV when I was four years old.”
Kirishima watches him silently, concern and confusion at war in his expression.
“But lately,” Bakugo presses on. “Lately, the more I think about it... the more that I think about it, the more I know. I know that not a single fucking bit of it is gonna matter if you aren't standing right there next to me.”
It's actually satisfying to see Kirishima flush from his hairline all the way down past the collar of his t-shirt and it gives Bakugo a boost of courage.
“You want to be part of a hero team, to get the best out of your quirk? That could literally be with anyone. Anybody would work well with you, but... But it should be me, okay? I don't want to lose to Kaminari or Metal Face or any of those nerds, because I want it most! Kirishima Eijirou... Go pro with me!” he all but shouts, lost in the intensity of his declaration.
That satisfaction begins to wane as the seconds tick by and Kirishima does nothing but gape at him, wide-eyed and bewildered. He feels his heart sink with every moment that passes and the strength of his confidence is shaken.
“Or.... stay a side-kick forever,” he mumbles as he looks away. “See if I care.”
“I will!” Kirishima suddenly yells. He launches himself at Bakugo so forcefully that they're both knocked back into the railing and it digs into Bakugo's spine. He barely notices though, because he's got his best friend's arms wrapped around his shoulders and feeling Kirishima's face press into his neck is doing terrible things to Bakugo's heart. Hesitantly, Bakugo brings his hands up to Kirishima's torso.
“You'll... stay a side-kick forever?” he asks. Kirishima's lips move across his skin when he laughs and Bakugo almost combusts.
“You know what I mean, dumbass!” Kirishima says, squeezing him tighter. “I didn't think you wanted a partner...” Bakugo's throat tightens up, but it doesn't stop him from saying what needs to be said.
“I want you, idiot. By my side, where you belong.”
He almost regrets it when Kirishima goes still in his arms before slowly pulling back to look Bakugo in the eye. His expression is questioning, eyes searching his face for something Bakugo can't quite figure out. He must find it, because Bakugo is treated that look again, the one from the first picture, the one he saw in the art room. The one that Bakugo now knows is special and is just for him.
He knows it because Kirishima leans forward and kisses him.
-
Their projects are due a few days later, and everyone is eager to show off their hard work. Jirou and her partner play a duet for Affection that ends up netting them third place for their category. Kirishima and Tetsutetsu take second place in Triumph for their sculpture of the two figures arm wrestling that actually comes out better than anyone anticipated.
“Interesting subject,” Midnight says when she examines the piece closer. “Kirishima's chivalrous tie-breaker victory from the sports festival, is it not?”
Kirishima bites his lips as Tetsutetsu processes.
“Wait a minute.....” he says. Kirishima's body starts to shake. “Wait just a damn minute! What the hell, Kirishima! I thought we were bros!” The laughter that rings out isn't just from Kirishima but from other classmates as well. “Ah, screw you guys!” Tetsutestu shouts.
Deku and Monoma also take second in Affection. Though Bakugo can say plenty about the shitty production of the portrait (a combination of Deku's shaky lineart and Monoma's pretentious water coloring), he can't really come out and call the subject lame, even though it kind of is. It depicts Deku's mom sitting in a familiar living room as she sews together Deku's ugly hero suit. Bakugo does his best to keep his totally valid opinions to himself, because Auntie Inko has always been good to the neighborhood kids including himself, quick with juice boxes and bandaids for skinned knees, and he remembers her fondly from his childhood, even if he'd never say it out loud.
So whatever. It's passably decent. Maybe.
In the end it comes down to the two first place winners of each category. Midnight apparently finds Bakugo and Shiozaki's photo submission artsy enough and “filled with vigorous symbolism," whatever that means... But yeah, it's a damn good shot. He and Thorn Head spent hours agonizing over editing software, figuring out what would enhance its presentation but not distract from the obvious. They both have ample reason to be proud of the end product, because enlarged and framed as it is, it's remarkably striking and they've received plenty of compliments.
All the more reason for Bakugo to be fucking livid when he sees Todoroki and Airhead's submission and knows immediately that he and Shiozaki have lost.
Fucking Icy Hot and his Class B tag-along extra have combined the utility of their quirks to create something undeniably gorgeous. With Tsuburaba's ability to create solidified air and the intense heat of Todoroki's fire, they managed some amateur glassblowing. On their table sits three tiered nuptial cups. The glass-like material itself is nearly invisible to the naked eye, but they've added red and gold coloring which swirl together and seem to balance atop one another in a gravity defying manner.
It's genius. It's disgusting. Bakugo gets angrier the longer he looks at the display and isn't surprised when Midnight declares them the overall winner.
He pinches the bridge of his nose so hard it actually starts to make his headache worse.
“I told you, He of Wrath,” Shiozaki says beside him, disappointment ringing clear in her voice. “Had we'd talked another group into switching categories with us and used Kirishima's photograph, you and I would be standing as the undisputed victors.”
“I will actually pay you to stop talking.”
“Whose photograph?”
Bakugo breaks out into a cold sweat as he slowly turns and sees Kirishima standing behind them, a look of innocent curiosity on his face.
“Ah, the Muse,” Shiozaki turns to face Kirishima and bows politely. “Thank you for your inspiration and hard work.” Without explanation, she steps aside then to join a small group of other girls from Class B. Kirishima watches her leave with confusion written all over his face, but he smiles all the same.
“She's an odd one, huh?” he asks good-naturedly. Bakugo is too busy seething to respond. “Hey, man, don't get so bent out of shape. You guys did great!”
“We lost,” Bakugo says through his teeth.
“You got first place! Just not... first-first place, you know?”
“He's right, Kacchan. You and Shiozaki submitted a great entry.”
Bakugo's day couldn't get any worse. Deku walks up and looks at their project with positive appraisal. “I should have known you and Todoroki would both put everything you have into this project. Your results are amazing.” Because the universe hates him, Todoroki and Tsuburaba's display table is right next to his and Shiozaki's, which means the sound of his name draws the Icy Hot bastard's attention.
“Thank you, Midoriya,” he says in that bland-ass tone of his. He looks down at his bowl with something not unlike guilt. “Though, to be honest, I feel your submission should have won first place for our category.”
“Huh?!” Both Bakugo and Deku react to Todoroki's statement, distain and bashfulness respectively expressed.
“I feel our project won solely on craftsmanship and quality.”
“Are you humble bragging? Are you seriously humble bragging to my face right now, you bastard?” Bakugo is this close to jumping the table and fighting him in the middle of the art room and probably would have if Kirishima wasn't patiently holding him back.
“Uh, Todoroki, I don't think I quite understand your reasoning,” Deku says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Affection... a marriage can very well mean nothing at all. A mother's love means everything. That's what I meant. Your submission fit the theme better and should have won,” Todoroki says with complete disregard for the heavily uncomfortable atmosphere he's just created, partly thanks to knowledge Deku is privy to and partly thanks to knowledge Bakugo shouldn't be privy to. Both of them stare at him awkwardly, unwilling and perhaps unable to respond.
Bakugo never thought he'd ever be thankful for Kaminari's baby-ass whining, but he is. He is so thankful when Sparky pops out of nowhere to drape himself between Bakugo and Kirishima.
“Never again!” he bitches. “Kuroiro just used me to power his tacky light display! Someone explain to me what a d20 is. How is a neon purple number in triangles victorious?” Kaminari drops his arm from Bakugo's shoulder and clings more fully to Kirishima. “Buddy, bro, my dude. You've gotta be my partner next time, assigned teams be damned! You promised! You promised you'd be my partner from now until forever!” Kirishima pats his back reassuringly and gives Bakugo an apologetic smile.
“I guess I did promise that, huh?” he says nervously.
“As if!” Bakugo yell, explosions going off in his hands close enough to Kaminari's head to make him shriek. “You're all mine until we're both dead, dumbass!”
The loud declaration causes the chatter of the room to die down and heads to turn in their direction. Kaminari is looking over his shoulder in terror but Kirishima's smile is big and dopey and far too bright for Bakugo to look at directly. After a deathly silent moment, Todoroki picks up the nuptial cups and moves to set them on the display table in front of Bakugo and Kirishima.
“Congratulations.”
Bakugo gets another detention for the resulting destruction, but Kirishima is there to help him again, and surprisingly so is Shiozaki. When asked, she simply clasps her hands together gently and smiles.
“A gift, for the happy couple.”
They are never getting the scorch marks out of this damn floor.
Pages Navigation
TheSwagga Sat 22 Dec 2018 12:12PM UTC
Comment Actions
Rollerbibi (Guest) Sat 22 Dec 2018 07:06PM UTC
Comment Actions
Lingering_Reflection Sat 22 Dec 2018 07:19PM UTC
Comment Actions
emily moss (Guest) Mon 04 Feb 2019 07:19AM UTC
Comment Actions
walkintodanger Sat 22 Dec 2018 08:00PM UTC
Comment Actions
underdogworks Sat 22 Dec 2018 08:48PM UTC
Comment Actions
DrowClericOfPelor Sat 22 Dec 2018 08:56PM UTC
Comment Actions
mariposasol Sat 22 Dec 2018 09:54PM UTC
Comment Actions
sacchannies Sat 22 Dec 2018 11:00PM UTC
Comment Actions
poetemorts Sun 23 Dec 2018 01:36AM UTC
Comment Actions
Bookworm_Cathy Sun 23 Dec 2018 07:22AM UTC
Comment Actions
Alleycattt Sun 23 Dec 2018 03:43PM UTC
Comment Actions
Rare_love Sun 23 Dec 2018 05:38PM UTC
Comment Actions
Fanficismything Sun 23 Dec 2018 05:51PM UTC
Comment Actions
let_me_wander Sun 23 Dec 2018 08:14PM UTC
Comment Actions
Lilylloid Sun 23 Dec 2018 08:16PM UTC
Comment Actions
gabzillaz Mon 24 Dec 2018 05:19AM UTC
Comment Actions
Eliza_cashmoney Mon 24 Dec 2018 07:54PM UTC
Comment Actions
Anakito Wed 26 Dec 2018 05:58AM UTC
Comment Actions
oddeyec (abbyslullaby) Wed 26 Dec 2018 11:20PM UTC
Comment Actions
LittleBe Thu 27 Dec 2018 12:50AM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation