A sigh escaped Bakugo's lips as he set foot in the school library; he had made a successful escape from the torment of the soccer team. Still, he couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. He reached a hand up and pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead. Was he still warm or was it just that his hand was cold from the bitter fall air?
He couldn't tell.
The blond made a place for himself at a table near the rear exit of the library, setting his bag down on a chair beside him before pulling his notepad out and carefully placing his laptop beside him. He would have to transfer the notes to secure them; it was a good precaution to take, especially since it would've been risky to take them directly onto his laptop in the midst of a crowd like that.
Seconds passed into minutes, which slowly passed into hours. Most people had filtered out by the time it was starting to get dark, and even a librarian stopped by to let him know that he needed to leave soon.
It was already 7pm, judging by the flashing red on the clocks placed above each exit. Bakugo had already finished most of his paper, but he hadn't documented any photos to visualize how the formulas came into play; another tedious requirement of this assignment. He himself wasn't too bothered by it, but the blond could distinctly hear the other students groaning at the teacher's explanation, even just in his memory.
Still, there was only one person who came to mind at a time like this; the one and only Red Riot.
Kirishima had pestered Bakugo into getting his number before, though the blond usually ignored any messages he received from the nuisance. He didn't need a distraction from his studies. But today, miraculously, he would actually be helpful to his studies, and if he wanted a good grade with the least amount of deductions possible.
"Hi…." He typed slowly, unsure of how to word it; he decided to go simple, just being honest. Though the thought of how the redhead might light up from finally receiving a text back from him caused Bakugo's cheeks to redden.
He ignored it and continued.
"Sorry I haven't gotten back to you. Um, is it too much to ask for a...picture of you during a soccer game? It's strictly for my class, so don't worry about anything...weird. Thanks in advance; sorry again."
Pausing, he looked it over. Did he really have to text in proper grammar like that? Would that be weird to Kirishima? Did...did he even need validation for that?
Groaning, the blond rubbed his forehead gently with two fingers before sliding his phone back in his pocket. He should probably head home before upsetting the librarians anymore than they already were; he could feel at least one of them glaring a whole through his back.
By the time he started walking out to the sidewalk, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket; Kirishima was just that social, huh…? He reached in, having nothing better to do, and checked the message he got in return. What harm could it do him?
"Bakubro!"
Already horrible, but he could manage having a cheesy nickname like that. He assumed it was how Kirishima always was; not that he knew him well enough to tell.
"So glad you finally texted me! I don't know if I have any photos on hand, though. We could totally meet up tomorrow after school though, if that's cool with you! You cool with snappin' some pics of me while we do practice?"
Bakugo blinked as he read the message; well, the assignment wasn't really due until tomorrow night, a digital turn-in, so he supposed it wouldn't hurt to watch Kirishima practice.
Just this once, though. He would rather spend that time studying.
The blond walked along, typing his reply to Kirishima. At first the goal was a simple, "that works for me" and then he would walk home in silence, absorbed in his thoughts, but it didn't take much for the redhead to wrap him up in a series of bizarre and, frankly, hilarious text chains that had the subject changing every seven message bubbles.
"Baku! Look! At my dog!"
Kirishima sent a photo after the words popped up, one where his face was pressed into dark brown fur that melted into a caramel color and then faded into white; German Shepherd, Bakugo knew that immediately.
His eyes scanned over the photo. It matched too well. The dog held a dumb grin that was all too familiar; he probably would've been able to put his finger on who it reminded him of if it weren't for the culprit matching the dog right beside him in the photo. Both of them had their tongues out too, stupid innocence radiating from the photo on his screen.
Subconsciously, Bakugo hit save.
"What! Lucky!"
Was he breaking out of his shell? Why again was he avoiding Kirishima? Was this what it was like to have friends?
"I wanted a dog for such a long time, but my parents always said that they were too much to handle. The best I got was a stuffed puppy for my twelfth birthday."
"For real?! That sucks, man! You can totally come over some time and say hi to Baxter! He loves new people, and I'm sure he'd love you too!"
Reading that, Bakugo found himself stopping. He wasn't far from his house now, but the smile that had made its way onto his lips for the first time in however long faded.
Come...over? To Kirishima's house?
The feverish feeling came back, and the blond almost dropped his phone when he felt the sweat building up.
"Bro? You good? Hello! Answer?!"
Kirishima was going to kill him, there was no doubt. Bakugo was going to die because of this illness.