He hadn't wanted to believe. When Aizawa-sensei had pulled him aside and told him everything, he'd just stared up at him, mouth wide open and eyes as big as dinner plates.

"Oi," he'd said. "What're you talking about sensei?"

Ha hadn't wanted to believe.

"Kirishima fought bravely," his teacher answered him slowly, voice gentle and kind and piercing through his heart like a burning spear. "He protected Fatgum with everything he had, but his body broke in the end. I guess he couldn't sustain that form any longer."

"His body broke?" The ground under him moved. His world tilted. The noise around him stilled. Everything was blurring together.

How strange.

Air wouldn't reach his lungs, and he- "His body broke?" When had he started whispering?

Bakugou wheezed. Why was it so hard to breath?

Aizawa-sensei was looking at him sadly. "His skin couldn't keep up with the constant hardering after each break, he had to stop. I'm sorry Katsuki."

"You're sorry? You?" Bakugou wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and rage. Wanted to tear down the fucking walls and blow the whole damn dorm to kingdom come. He wanted-

He wanted to see his friend. "I," he said, blinking quickly. "Can I go see him? Is he allowed visitors?"

Aizawa nodded, reaching over and pulling him close. Arm circling around his shoulders until he'd drawn Bakugou in enough to let the boy rest his head against his side. It felt strangely reassuring. "Let's go kid. I'll drive you there." Bakugou hummed. Unable to do anything more than to follow his teacher out the door and into the car. He didn't even remember how he'd put on his jacket. Most have been someone from class that had gotten it for him and he'd probably put it on autopilot. Shitty hair would have found it amusing.

His breath hitched.

He swollowed thickly and looked out through the window. He felt weirdly empty inside. As if he hand't eaten anything today. Maybe he had. Maybe he hadn't. Did it really matter?

"Katsuki?"

Bakugou didn't answer. Choosing instead to watch as the scenery passed him by.

"Katsuki?"

Aizawa-sensei was nothing if not persistant.

"Katsuki!"

His teacher had taken to calling him that ever since Bakugou had started staying with him every break. The man hadn't questioned the sudden intrusion into his life. Instead just glancing over him quickly for injuries the first time he found him on his doorstep before letting him in and giving him the guest room. It looked more and more like Bakugou's own with each passing day. Aizawa-sensei didn't seem to mind.

Bakugo turned slowly in the hero's direction, watching him closely as he drove. Mouth glued shut and eyes wide and unseeing.

"Katsuki?" Aizawa repeated, glancing over at him quickly and reaching over to run a hand through his hair.

Bakugou felt that. He blinked. "Aizawa-sensei?"

The relief in the pro-hero's eyes was evident. "You with me kiddo?" Bakugou nodded. "Good, because we're here."

Oh

How fast was that? Had he been zoning out the whole way here?

"Ok."

Aizawa-sensei was clearly looking at him with open concern now, but Bakugou didn't care. His best friend might be in this very hospital probably bleeding to death and he-

"Let's go," he grunted, trying his fucking hardest to gather himself from the scattered pieces of glasses he'd become since the last hour and opened the door.

His teacher didn't say anything in return, but by the time Katsuki had dragged his suddenly heavy body out of the vehicle, Aizawa-sensei was standing by his door. Arm coming up again to drape over his shoulders the minute he stepped away from car.

The teen leaned into him. Grateful to have some of that burden weighing him down carried by someone else.

Like that, they walked through the entrance, through the lobby; Aizawa-sensei taking a brief moment to get the information from the receptionist and all the way up to the fifth floor.

Kirishima's floor.

Shitty hair was behind those doors. Probably suffering as Bakugou stood there like a moron staring at the slab of metal standing between him and his best friend. His whole body shuddered. Would Eijirou even want to see him? Maybe he blamed him for this? And didn't he deserve it? If he'd just been a better person, less arrogant, less violent more hero like, maybe he would have gotten his license and he would have had his best friend's back? Maybe this was all his fault?

"Do you want me to go in with you?

Bakugou startled.

Aizawa-sensei had apparently been silently observing him through his minor breakdown. Katsuki flushed red. "Fuck no," he snapped, defenses coming up like second nature. "The fuck you think I am?" Without another word, he flung open the door and stepped in. Rude, yes. Impulsive? Also yes. But Bakugou would be damned if someone saw him break. Even Aizawa-sensei.

Raising his eyes from the floor where they had strangely decided to fixate on, he moved them up slowly until they were finally resting on the still red-haired figure laying on the hospital bed. Bakugou blinked. Body shaking slightly, heart pounding against his chest, and throat suddenly feeling dry.

That was Kirishima .

His dumb friend. His shitty-hair. His favorite person in a world of intolerable lunatics. Bakugou could barely see his bright red hair from where he stood. Everything else was heavily bandaged and even then-

Bakugou felt his vision swimming. His sharp gaze capturing flecks of blood seeping through the white.

Fuck Kirishima . What the fuck did you do to yourself?

His feet moved before he could even think about it. Landing him next to the sleeping boy's bed in a matter of seconds. Bakugou held his breath. Silently observing the pale teen as the boy shuddered quietly in his sleep and took tiny, shaky breaths.

Fuck

This wasn't right. Bakugou swallowed. Fuck this wasn't right. Kirishima was good. Didn't the world know that? Did it have a fucking clue who it was messing with? What kind of sadistic freak would do this to the nicest person Bakugou fucking knew?

Reaching out slowly, he brushed his fingers as gently as possible as not to hurt through the red tuft atop of the idiot's head. "Why the fuck did this happen to you?" he asked, voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "Why you shitty-hair? Fuck, why you?"

Droplets started falling on top of the red-head's cheeks, and Bakugou furiously wiped them away. It would probably hurt his fragile skin or some bullshit. Where was the fucking water coming from anyways?

He sniffled. Stupid shitty-hair.

When the first sob tore itself from his chest, Bakugou almost bolted right out of the door, but-

It was shitty-hair. His best friend. His best friend who was lying on a hospital bed because he went out there and fought like the fucking number 1 hero would. His best friend who was currently wearing a breathing mask because he couldn't breathe on his own.

Another sob.

Clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, his body curled into itself and he slowly sank to his knees.

Stupid shitty-hair.

Silent tracks of tears were running down his cheeks and his body was trembling with every broken sob.

Fucking shitty-hair.

Please be ok.