Katsuki watched as the chucklefucks of his class gathered around older Kirishima after school ended. The mood had significantly lightened since they left the training grounds, most of the students too driven by curiosity to remain despondent in defeat. They circled the man like a pack of particularly cheerful, nosy sharks.
Katsuki could see Black Eyes hanging of Kirishima's shoulders, Midoriya sitting next to him practically vibrating with questions about new quirk applications. Several of the bolder students were gearing up to ask questions about their possible future selves, all trepidation from that morning forgotten.
It was fucking sickening.
Katsuki stomped behind them, keeping his distance and glaring at that broad back. Aizawa had forced him to take a quick trip to Recovery Girl to get his cuts healed, but Katsuki could still feel them. His neck stung, his hands throbbed, his leg burned.
But most of all his pride bled from where it had been trodden into the dust.
Arriving at the dorms Katsuki stormed into the kitchen, quickly putting together his normal post training snack. He could hear the class going fucking wild while older Kirishima fucking spazzed out over seeing the 'retro' games the class had accumulated in the living area. Someone challenged the redhead to a game, apparently not sore enough from their loss in training already, sparking an immediate outcry and argument as every fought to join in.
Katsuki ground his teeth, cutting up fruit furiously before smashing it into the blender. Letting the noisy contraption drown out the rumbling bass of older Kirishima's laugh. Katsuki stared unseeing as the blades turned the fruit pulp to a mush, feeling very much like he had just been put through a blender himself.
He was angry, furious, down right apocalyptic with rage, but this wasn't unusual. His short time at UA had already made Katsuki familiar with the sting of failure. He might still hate it, and it might fucking suck, and even the thought of failing might make his blood boil and his stomach turn with nausea, but he wasn't some pansy ass snowflake who couldn't own up to his own deficiencies. At least, not anymore. He would swallow this loss and get better, get stronger. Fucking beat down this shit till he owned it and no overgrown redheaded asshole from the future could touch him again.
Katsuki turned off the blender, the noise from the living area filtering back in. Older Kirishima was going on about playing video games with his kids. Gushing about how fucking amazing they were. The man hadn't shut up about his perfect kids, and his perfect husband, and his perfect fucking life, since he arrived here.
It turned Katsuki's fucking stomach, and under the rage another feeling was rising to the surface.
Humiliation.
Older Kirishima putting him down again and again replayed in his mind. The way the man had simply stood there, not responding to his taunts, shrugging off his most powerful attacks and then chastening Katsuki like he was some misbehaving child. Condescending and demeaning. Not even taking him fucking seriously. Like Katsuki's strength, his quirk, his fucking life's greatest pride and accomplishment, meant nothing. Just a passing warm breeze on the wind.
Katsuki could of taken that, he always knew Kirishima's quirk was made to withstand his. He could take the older man being more powerful than him, with his extra decades of training and hero work. What really fucking pissed him off, what he couldn't take in-fucking-stride, was the fucking dismissal. The utter disregard for his goal of reaching number one. Like his dream was just some phase he would grow out of. It felt like the man was taking everything that was Katsuki, everything that drove him forward, and dismissing it as secondary. The whims of a misbehaving, rambunctious kid. Nothing important.
It stung.
It fucking stung.
Katsuki heaped a few tablespoons of protein powder into his smoothie, shaking it with more aggression than it really deserved. The sting was still there, branded onto his skin. Burning brighter every second he had to listen to that fucker laugh with the extras. All of them so fucking happy. His palms smoked. Frustration caused tears to bead at the corner of his eyes.
It hurt.
It really fucking hurt.
Because it was Kirishima.
Kirishima dismissing his dream. Kirishima humiliating him in front of his classmates. Kirishima not taking him seriously when he knows Katsuki hates that. It was Kirishima, his friend, his best-fucking-friend, and it hurt.
What happened to believing in him? What happened to thinking Katsuki could achieve his dream? To training with him on weekends and hanging out with him in-between? To soothing his anger instead of sparking it? To knowing he can look after his own damned self and liking him for who he was, instead of trying to fucking change him all the fucking time?! When did Kirishima start thinking he needed saving from his own fucking self!?
Katsuki missed his Kirishima.
He tipped his head back, chugging the entirety of his smoothie in five heaving gulps and slamming the bottle onto the counter. Sato, who was rummaging through the fridge in his own fit of the munchies, jumped and hit his head on the shelves. He shot a weary look at Katsuki, ready to run should the blond explode. Katsuki sneered at him, quickly cleaning up and storming away, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His knuckles were white with how hard they were clenched, nails digging into his skin.
To impatient to take the lift Katsuki charged for the stairs, absolutely refusing to look at the gaggle of students and one redhead pro-hero on the sofas. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of his attention. Not when his heart was thumping hard against his chest, not when his eyes were stinging, not when he felt heavy and twitchy with, with…he didn't know what. Something shitty. Anxiousness? Longing? Fucking, heartache?!
No, no fucking way. Katsuki wasn't that fucking soft. He wasn't letting the shitty haired idiot get to him and he certainly wasn't missing fucking Hair-For-Brains after a single fucking day. Katsuki was a fucking independent badass. He didn't need fucking friends. He didn't even fucking want them. Kirishima was just some annoying hanger on that Katsuki let stick around cause he was slightly less annoying than the other fuckers and he occasionally got bored. Nothing more.
He kicked the wall as he arrived at his floor. Angry at himself when the heaviness in his heart didn't subside. Hands popping with miniature explosions as his frustration built. From the fourth floor Katsuki could no longer hear the chattering of the class or older Kirishima's laughter. There was nothing but his own ragged breathing, the rushing of the blood in his ears, the grinding of his teeth and the popping of his palms braking the silence.
Katsuki took a breath, trying to relax his shoulders and brining his explosions under control. He unclenched his jaw with effort, feeling his teeth ache from how hard he had been grinding them. The blond let his forehead thump against the wall, fighting to get himself back under control.
He was being fucking pathetic. Getting emotional and throwing a tantrum by himself. Fucking, lying to himself. He needed to just, let it go. Relax. Older Kirishima would be gone in the morning, then his Kirishima would be back, things could go back to fucking normal and Katsuki could forget this whole fucking nightmare of a day ever fucking happened.
Having calmed himself slightly Katsuki lifted his head, gaze immediately landing on Kirishima's open dorm door. He could see the mess inside, the crumpled bed sheets, the turned over desk, the shelves knocked aside and knickknacks, books and CDs scattered across the floor. There was several burn marks in the carpet and soot covered the walls from where Katsuki had tried to blast his way out of the older Kirishima's hold.
Katsuki frowned, something about the sight sitting uncomfortably in his chest. Kirishima would be fucking bummed to come back and find his room in such a mess. He shuffled over the doorway, feeling weird and out of place. An odd and unsettling feeling considering Kirishima's dorm room had become as familiar to him as his own. The gaudy bed sheets, fucking tacky clock and overly loud posters somehow no longer annoyed him as they did when he first saw them. Instead they screamed comfort, and closeness, and Kirishima. He could practically hear the redhead shouting about how 'manly!' the mess of colour was.
Katsuki snorted, what an idiot.
He started cleaning up, picking up the odds and ends, setting the furniture right. Doing what he could for the carpet and walls. Opening the window to air out the smell of burning feathers and melted plastic. He would have to buy Kirishima some new sheets to replace the ones he'd ruined.
It was only when Katsuki was picking up the last of the thousand and one tacky mementos Kirishima kept on his shelves from under the bed -half contemplating if he should try and find the gaudiest, 'manliest' bed covers for the redhead or actually try and force on him something with a proper sense of interior design- that Katsuki found something out of place.
A small slip of fabric, folded over on itself. Katsuki looked at it curiously, the texture and sheen of the material something he didn't recognize. He flipped it over, two screens instantly flashing to life. On one side older Kirishima's face and personal information stared back at him from his pro-hero ID. The picture was holographic, but nothing like the fuzzy blue tinted holograms Katsuki had seen before. This hologram was a crisp, sharp, 3D rendering of the redhead.
Katsuki stared, turning the image back and forth and poking it with interest. Upon doing so the image zoomed into older Kirishima's brow, his small faded eyes scar rendered in perfect miniature detail. With careful observation Katsuki noticed a few little differences between the Kirishima in the image and the current Kirishima downstairs. Picture Kirishima's right ear was whole and missing the little nick the one he fought earlier had. There was a slight difference in the shadowing of his beard and in the dye of his hair. A slightly younger Kirishima then.
With a bit of prodding around Katsuki managed to exit the pro-hero ID. With a tap the screen switched to Kirishima's driving license and what looked like a bank card, flashing a red warning light when it didn't recognize his 'biometrics'. Once he had circled around to the pro-hero license again Katsuki curiously lifted the slip of fabric, seeing it was barely thicker than a piece of paper. When Katsuki bent it the screen folded and rolled over without a problem.
It was quite obviously older Kirishima's wallet. The man must have dropped it this morning. Possibly when Katsuki burnt his pants off. He flipped it open again, looking at the other screen. A few picture icons blinked at him. Katsuki poked the first one, looking something like a book.
A hologram, bigger than Kirishima's ID snap shot, sprung up in front of him. A short clip began to play, sound echoing out through the silent room. Katsuki stared, his heart thumping so hard as to bruise his ribcage, the world around him falling away. His body going numb with shock.
Kirishima's faded smile filled half of the screen. His hair was entirely red, braided in some kind of fancy style to hang over one shoulder. This Kirishima was significantly younger than the one downstairs, something about his demeanor, his bright energetic rosy cheeked happiness speaking more of his youth than anything physical. On the other half of the screen, trying to smirk but really smiling, red eyes glittering and cheeks also blushed a rosy hue, was Katsuki. An older Katsuki, hair buzzed short at the sides, a crosshatch scar across his forehead, twin piercings in his ears.
The older Katsuki leaned back against the other Kirishima's shoulder, tipping his chin up. His eyes turned soft and sappy as he looked at the redhead, face relaxing. Kirishima laughed, his rich baritone a little hiccupy with intoxication.
"Katsuki! Look at the camera. Stop staring at me," laughed the Kirishima.
"Don't tell me what to fucking do," mumbled the older Katsuki, but his eyes reluctantly left the redhead, squinting towards the camera.
"Ready?" asked Kirishima. His shoulder shifted, arm coming to wrap around Katsuki's waist. Like it belonged there.
"Do we have to do this?" grumbled the older blond, but Katsuki could tell by the tilt of his brow, by the slant of his smile, by the way he still kept sending glances at the redhead, that he wasn't really complaining.
"Yep! Ready? Three, two, one!" Kirishima lifted his hand from the older Katsuki's waist, wrapping it around his neck instead to flash it towards the camera. Older Katsuki also raised his hand, grin less maniacal but eyes bright with joy. On both their left ring fingers a red and gold band flashed.
"Just married!" shouted Kirishima, near screaming the words. Older Katsuki said them too, if a bit less boisterously. Immediately there was an eruption of noise from behind them, people out of frame screaming their congratulations, hollering and hooting.
The picture froze, Kirishima's blinding grin and Katsuki's small rosy smile immortalized for one long moment. The red and gold bands glinted in the lights, their presence near freezing the blood in Katsuki's veins while warmth started to build in his chest. He hands were sweating, skin shivery with shock. He couldn't look away, he couldn't think.
In the space of a blink the hologram changed, playing the next clip.
Older Katsuki again, chin propped on his hand, smooshing his cheek into an unattractive bulge. His eyes were tired, his shoulders flagging with weariness where he was sprawled out over a large sofa. Spread out across his lap, head resting in the crook of his arm, was a baby. The little person was swaddled in a bright blue onesie, arms spread wide by their head, little chubby mouth opened just slightly in sleep. Even so young they had a full head of hair, bright blond and fuzzy, the new sun peaking through the window turning it flaxen and wispy.
The camera moved closer, older Katsuki cutting open one bright carmine eyes to glare sleepily at the cameraman.
"Baby's first day home! Dad's just finished night duty. How ya feeling?" said what was unmistakably older Kirishima's voice.
Older Katsuki groaned quietly, flipping Kirishima off with his free hand. The redhead gasping jokingly behind the screen. Older Katsuki looked towards his new daughter, a small smile appearing on his face even as dark bags colored under his eyes. Gently, he stroked one chubby cheek, those small brows crinkling in distaste as he did so. Kirishima made a breathless, wounded noise behind the camera and the picture froze.
A second later another one started.
Katsuki and Kirishima in a kitchen, preparing cookies with two young children. The blonde girl joined by a black haired, red eyed boy, teeth a mishmash of fangs and blunt baby milk teeth. Flour and sugar was scattered everywhere, mostly on Kirishima. Katsuki's own ugly snorting laughter echoed in the background.
Another shot of older Katsuki, this time laying spread eagle on a bed, two more children by his side. No blond or black hair this time, but Katsuki recognized the shade of his Old Mans hair and the shape of his ears in the twins faces. They lay across older Katsuki's chest and legs, all three of them snoring with their mouths open. Older Kirishima snickering and cooing in equal measure.
A full family shot, filmed by someone unknown. Older Kirishima standing tall and broad in the middle, older Katsuki beside him, arms crossed with a shit eating grin spread wide over his face, newly adorned with a lip splitting scar. Copying his stance the twins were by his side, their fanged smiles mischievous. Behind them the eldest blonde haired daughter held the black haired boy in a headlock. A third boy, holding what seemed like some kind of game consol and looking fed up, was giving them the side eye. On the older Kirishima's shoulders sat another girl, rosy cheeked and decked out in bright, frilly pink. Her shaggy black hair bunched up with sparkley purple scrunchies. In Kirishima's arms another child, decked out in dungarees and no older than a toddler, sat with his whole fist shoved into his drooling mouth, looking around at the chaos in confusion.
Another selfie, taken by the older Katsuki this time, the house quite and dark behind him while older Kirishima used his chest as a pillow. The redhead waking only to press a long lingering kiss to older Katsuki's lip scar, eyelashes fluttering.
The pictures continued, detailing the family life and quiet soft moments of older Katsuki and Kirishima's lives. Happy and chaotic and passionate and soft in equal turns. New scars and tired eyes the only signs of the dangers of their pro-hero life.
The latest picture stalled, the hologram flickered and Katsuki watched as older Kirishima and himself appeared once again. Flashing their new wedding rings for all to see.
Katsuki didn't blink, he wasn't even sure he was breathing. His mind was blank, his heart pounding fast and loud. Thundering out of rhythm, a premonition of the eruption to come. His hands started to smoke as his throat ran dry. His whole body felt stalled as he processed, the sheer enormity of what Katsuki was feeling was too much to handle.
He wanted to deny it. To put the wallet down and forget he had ever seen the holographic pictures. But he couldn't move, his limbs wouldn't listen. All he could do was remain frozen, letting the images cycle again and again. So close but so far.
"Katsuki? You here?"
Older Kirishima poked his head into the door, pausing when he saw the hologram. Katsuki watches a rainbow of emotions pass over the mans face before he composes himself, settling for an abashed smile. He walks into the small room, instantly filling it, and softly closes the door behind him. Katsuki heart near stops with the quiet click of the latch. In his smoking hands the hologram flickers and switches to the next scene.
Older Kirishima sighs and sits next to him on the bed, rubbing both hands over his face before giving him a small smile. He looks apologetic but his face instantly softens to loving fondness as he watches the clip of older Katsuki playing with their youngest daughter.
"I thought I'd left that at home. Thanks for finding it. Wouldn't have wanted to go back without it."
Katsuki works his jaw, trying to find something to say. Anything. When his voice does come it's embarrassingly horse and broken.
"I-its me," disbelief drips from his lips. His shock is beginning to wane, and underneath it comes a tide of other emotions. As always for Katsuki, those emotions burn hot.
Kirishima sighs, reaching over and gently taking his wallet back. He makes a particular gesture with his hand and the clip freezes, becoming a static image. He begins to flick through the images, lips curling into a smile, eyes soft.
"Its us," he says quietly. Grinning slightly at the full family photo and letting it play. "All of us. See, that's our eldest Kamiko, she has your smarts but is good with people so is probably gonna take over the world someday. The one under her arms is Ryusuke, he's the one going to be a hero. The one with the game system is Hisahito, he's in the support department. The twins, Aoi and Aka -they have your quirk by the way but they can do this twin sync thing and power boost it- they're terrors, seriously. Then it's our little girl Tsukiko, she can summon this giant earth avatar which was really troublesome when she was a toddler, I can tell you, but she's a sweetheart really. And the little one drooling over his own fist is Jun and he's the reason I'm here. We took this about two years ago just after Kamiko's graduation. We took a family hiking trip, your big on those, and one of our sidekicks with a teleportation quirk came to pick us up and took the picture."
With each introduction older Kirishima eagerly leans into Katsuki's side, zooming in on each of the kids faces. Katsuki's heart continues to thunder as he takes in face after face of familiar features. Black and blond messy hair, sharp teeth and protruding fangs, bright crimson eyes and slanted brows. The dimple he had inherited from his mother on the face of a child with his fathers hair. Kirishima's wide, charming smile stretching across his cheeks on a girl with Katsuki's perpetual frown.
"They look like us" he said, waiting for the wave in his chest to crash. Feeling it as it crested, moments from tumbling. A breath before the anger came.
Older Kirishima chuckled. "We have strong genes. Quirk science has come a long way. You'd be surprised what you can do now."
The wave crashed. Red clouded his vision as Katsuki jumped to his feet, palms smoking and loud popping explosions lighting his savage snarl.
He glared down at Kirishima, the impostor, waving threatening explosions towards him and his idyllic, impossible, horrible, wonderful future.
"That! That's not me! It can't -I'm going to be number one! Number. Fucking. One!"
Older Kirishima frowned at him. "You do. I told you."
"No!" screamed Katsuki, letting off two powerful explosions to vent his emotions, adding to the soot stains over the carpet. Older Kirishima didn't move but his face became grimmer and more sever with the violence of the blasts. "Not like that! Not just for a few years, not letting any other fucking extra take the spot. I am gonna be number one, no one else. An overwhelming victory! That's what I'm aiming for."
Katsuki heaved in unsteady breaths, shoulders tense, looking for something to attack. But there was only the immovable man in front of him and the intangible future he represented.
Older Kirishima didn't back down, staring him dead in the eye. His voice was calm. "Do you really think that's all you need for a victory? Some title?"
It felt like a punch to the gut and Katsuki flinched away. Older Kirishima dismissing his ambition, his life's calling.
The redhead wasn't done. "Look at this Katsuki. Look at it!" Older Kirishima turned the screen, showing off the family photo and forcing Katsuki's eyes upon that rosy scene once more. "Does that look like failure to you? Does it?!"
Katsuki opened and closed his mouth, working his jaw in frustration, doubt stealing over him. As much as he wanted to deny it, as much as he wanted to scream the opposite, the picture didn't look like failure. It looked, well, it looked like the kind of thing anyone would wish for. A happy loving family, a faithful, beautiful husband, and joyful, energetic kids. If it was anyone else, any other family, Katsuki could have snorted and dismissed it out of hand. He had never wanted such a mundane future. He had better things to be doing, higher places to be reaching. He didn't have time to be playing house with some extra.
Only it wasn't just some extra and it wasn't any other family. It was his and Kirishima's. Their kids. With Katsuki's grin and Kirishima's dimples. Suddenly, shockingly, Katsuki wondered if having a family wouldn't be so bad. If that life wouldn't make him happy. There was something dangerously close to longing laying under the panic and rage in his chest.
"It-it-" he stuttered. He fucking stuttered. Words escaping him.
Older Kirishima nodded sagely. "This isn't failure Katsuki. Being the number one hero, helping people, getting married, having a family, being happy. All of that is victory. All of that is something you chose to have. And you can have it here too. If you want it."
"I don't-" came the immediate denial, but Katsuki's eyes still never wavered from that horrible, wonderful photo. Stuck on the way hologram Kirishima's hair kept getting in his eyes, tracking the way hologram Katsuki's impatiently brushed it away. Smiling and gentle, even though he was clearly annoyed.
"Do you want it Katsuki? With me? With Kirishima?" Older Kirishima stood up, snapping the wallet closed and leaning in until his face was dangerously close to Katsuki's. He backed up but there was nowhere to go, Kirishima's shelves blocking the way. One large, scarred, calloused hand came up and cradled Katsuki's face, stroking a thumb along his cheek. Crimson eyes so close Katsuki could see the gold flecks around the pupils, could trace that long healed scar above his eyebrow, count the faint freckles on his nose. Traitorously his heart started to beat faster, pulse tapping out rhythm of want under his skin. He could feel the heat flush across his nose, up his ears and down his neck. Dangerously betraying him.
Katsuki smacked older Kirishima's hand away but the damage had been done. A smile curled the redheads mouth, fond and nostalgic. He chuckled brightly, a warm rumbley sound that had heat curling in Katsuki's gut.
"I had wondered if there was anything between you two. Guess I should have known you two would have feelings for each other, even if you haven't started dating" said older Kirishima, tauntingly.
Katsuki tried to get his thoughts straight, to calm his stupid heart. He couldn't let himself get swept away, couldn't let himself falter from his path. Not for anything. Not for anyone.
"I don't," he denied, spitting out the words. He didn't state what he was denying, admitting the words out loud would make them too much of a possibility. An inevitability.
"Really Katsuki, lying to yourself isn't like you?"
Katsuki ground his teeth, shoulders hunching, hands still smoking. He felt defeated, childish. He hated it.
"And what do you know?! Nothing! Fucking nothing! You don't know me! I'm not your-I'm not him. Don't act like you know what I want, fucking asshole. Something like that, something like Kirishima, it's just a waste of time. A fucking hormonal impulse. I don't have time for something stupid like dating, or being together, or whatever. I'm going to be number one! The greatest, strongest hero there has ever been! And no one, no one is going to fucking hold me back!"
Older Kirishima stilled, whatever playful warmth had been in his face freezing over. He heaved in a breath, pushing it out between clenched teeth. "Is that what you think? That I -this realities- Kirishima, is a distraction? That he'll hold you back?"
Katsuki sneered, glad to see he was finally cracking that iron composure. He felt viciousness satisfaction at the thought of making this man angry. Of denying him. When he seemed so sure of what Katsuki wanted.
"I don't have time to be babysitting your ass Shit-for-Brains."
Older Kirishima snorted, flashing his fangs in return. "Don't be fucking ridiculous Katsuki," Katsuki jumped slightly, shocked by the redheads sudden curse. "We both know that no one can hold you back but yourself."
"What? What does that fucking mean!?"
"It means take your fucking head out of your ass and look around!" roared the older Kirishima, forcing Katsuki back a step until his back was pressed painfully into Kirishima's desk through the sheer volume of his anger. "I'm trying to help you Katsuki. I want you to be happy. I want both of you to be happy! We both know that the only thing that can hold you back is your own damn pride Katsuki, just as it's the one thing that can push you furthest. It's got nothing to do with Kirishima or dating. It's got nothing to do with having something else in your life. Why don't you want to be happy?"
"Don't give me that fake Disney happy ever after bullshit. Being number one is what I want. That's what will make me happy."
"Happiness isn't just one thing, Katsuki. It's all of it. Everything tied together. You can be number one and have other things."
"Don't fuck with me," growled Katsuki, hating the sadness in those crimson eyes. The pain. It bordered dangerously on pity and it had rage bubbling in his stomach, turning his words acidic. "Being number one isn't a game. It's not something you can get if you're holding back. Half assing shit. You need to make sacrifices." Katsuki chocked out, refusing to look at the man. At the man his best, closest friend will become. It was too easy to see his Kirishima in him. To easy to imagine the pain that would flash across that face, the hurt quickly but poorly hidden, should Katsuki say such a thing to his Kirishima.
Only, as the silence stretched and Katsuki eventually looked up he didn't find pain in older Kirishima's face. Nor calm acceptance. Not even anger. Instead the redhead was sneering at him, looking dissatisfied and disillusioned. Like Katsuki was something beneath him. Something failing to measure up.
"I changed my mind, this reality is different" said older Kirishima slowly, uncrossing his arms and heading for the door. Katsuki floundered, caught unawares and emotionally compromised. Older Kirishima glanced back, and each of his words froze the burning heat of agitation in Katsuki's veins. Weighing him like lead and turning his mind blank.
Those crimson eyes bore into Katsuki's soul. Looking right through his denials into all his insecurities and doubt.
His fear.
"My Katsuki's stronger than you" sneered Kirishima. "He always goes after everything he wants. No excuses. No compromises. And he has the fucking world cause of it."
The door clicked shut gently in the deafening silence.
—
Katsuki was trembling, he could feel the tremors passing from his sweaty, tense palms up to his raised, stiff shoulders. His breaths were quick and ragged. His senses felt numb, Kirishima's words echoing in his head. His resolve, something he had always prided himself on, something he has always been able to stand firmly upon, shook. The world was falling away from him as Katsuki struggled to suppress his feelings, a mire of confusion, rage and fear.
He probably would have stood there for a long time if it wasn't for a heavy thud from beyond the door. It caused him to jump, eyes snapping open from where he had clenched them tight. His lip stung from where he had been biting it.
There was a pained, muffled groan. The next second Katsuki was swinging the door open with a bang and sprinting into the corridor before he had even processed anything, because that groan of pain didn't belong to an older, angrier Kirishima. It belong to his Kirishima, and Katsuki would do anything right now to have him back.
All previous thoughts and confusion flew from his head when he spied the head of messy red hair, shoulder length once more. It was fanned out around the fallen Kirishima, who lay with spread limbs on the floor. Katsuki skidded down to his knees beside him.
"Oi, fuck, Kirishima! The fuck is wrong?"
"Ba-goouuuu. I dooon—'ell, 'ood," slurred Kirishima, trying to push himself up but failing. Katsuki caught him before he face planted once more, pulling the redhead to sit up while leaning heavily against his shoulder. He looked over his friend, seeing his sweaty clammy forehead, brow scrunched with pain, eyes squinting at the bright lights. The redhead was distressingly pale, making small groans of pain every now and then.
Katsuki cursed once more, slowly dragging the other boy to his feet. They stumbled the few steps down the corridor to Kirishima's room, Katsuki having to catch the other around his waist when his legs gave out. Pressed together as they were Katsuki could feel the weight of Kirishima's body, the point where his head lay against his neck, now no longer towering over Katsuki. Katsuki could feel the way Kirishima was trying to breath long and slow, but failing. Stuttering gasps and coughs breaking the silence.
"The fuck Kirishima. What's wrong with you? What the fuck did they do to you?"
Kirishima blinked his eyes open slowly, brow scrunched with the effort of though.
"I'mmm, I 'ell sick. Go-nna tho' up." He then proceeded to double over and do just that.
"Fuck!" exclaimed Katsuki as Kirishima started to heave up bile, trying to shuffle his feet away. Once the redhead started coughing instead of throwing up he managed to get him the last few feet to the bed. Kirishima falling upon it heavily in a messy heap.
For a few seconds Katsuki just stood there, looking over the other boy. Who was now definitely a boy again. No looming intimidating presence, no messy mane of hair, no large lasting scars, no bulging skull crushing muscles.
Just Kirishima, as he should be.
Kirishima whimpered, Katsuki snapped back into action. Fumbling for his phone he flipped it open, searching for a contact. Curling his lip in annoyance he eventually fired off a short text to Deku, even though it would reveal that he still had the nerds number and hadn't deleted it, telling him Kirishima was back and to get Aizawa and Recovery Girl.
That done he proceeded to shuffle Kirishima under the damaged covers, open the window to try and air out the acid stench of vomit, and empty the trashcan to give the boy something to throw up into should he need it.
Katsuki had just about done all he could to clear away the disgusting mess on the floor with a few towels when his teacher arrived along with the school nurse. Recovery Girl shuffled in, immediately placing a kiss on Kirishima brow. The wrinkle between his eyes smoothed as the healing quirk washed over him, though his skin remained pale and clammy.
Katsuki followed Aizawa out at his teachers silent commend, but didn't step far away from the open door, watching intently as Recovery Girl started running some checks.
"When did this happen?" asked Aizawa.
"Half an hour ago? Less." Katsuki replied shortly, still reeling from the emotional whiplash of the situation. He could feel the churning of emotions in his gut, but repressed it for now. Not knowing if it would emerge as rage or relief.
"So the quirk lasted about 15 hours then. What did it look like?"
"I don't know. I didn't see. Kirishima -the other Kirishima- left the room. Then I heard a thump and someone moaning. When I looked, this Kirishima was back."
"Did he say anything?"
"Just that he didn't feel well." Katsuki bit his lip, curling his fingers. He didn't want to show any weakness, he didn't want to show he cared. But the words came anyway. "Is he gonna be alright? What the fuck is wrong with him? I thought he was meant to be safe!"
"Calm down" said Aizawa, looking pointedly as Katsuki's smoking palms. "The other Kirishima mentioned that the dimensional switch could have side effects and left people feeling unwell."
At that moment Recovery Girl shuffled out, giving them both her normal smile. "Nothing to worry about dears. He's perfectly physically healthy. Just suffering from some mild dehydration, nausea and headache. If I didn't know any better I would say the boys been drinking."
Aizawa huffed slightly. "The older Kirishima did mention feeling hungover when he arrived."
Recovery Girl nodded along, handing over a sachet of some sort to Katsuki, who took it with a snarl when he recognized it as a hydration sachet. "I imagine older Kirishima was much more familiar, and able to handle, the symptoms than our poor dear. Give him that with some juice when he wakes up and he should feel much better, along with some crackers or toast. Something bland. A good nights sleep and some food and he'll be right as rain."
"So that's it?" snapped Katsuki when both of the adults made to leave. Aizawa raised an eyebrow, pinning him with his dry eyed stare.
"For now. Kirishima wont be much use to answer any questions in this state. I trust you can look after him?" Katsuki clenched his fists once again, feeling the hurt still swirling in him. He knew the anger he was feeling, the humiliation, was caused by the older Kirishima, that his Kirishima did nothing wrong. But like always with Katsuki's rage directing that emotion was difficult. Now that the crisis was over he wanted to punch something. To blow something to smithereens, preferably the smug ass face of his older best friend. He wanted an outlet.
"If you don't feel capable I'm sure any of the others won't mind," stated Aizawa.
"Fuck off, I can do it! Those extras would just make it worse" snapped Katsuki, snarling at his teacher as if daring him to not think him capable.
Aizawa simply lowered his eyebrow, returning to looking tired and fed-up, as he shrugged mildly. "There you go then. Fetch me or Recovery Girl if anything changes in his condition."
Then he was gone, leaving Katsuki alone with a now sleeping Kirishima, and his simmering rage. He stomped back into the room, crinkling his nose at the lingering smell of vomit. He threw the hydration sachet onto the nightstand and loomed over the redhead.
Katsuki drunk in his features. His cheeks, still soft with a little baby fat. His wide bright eyes, now peacefully closed, with no second scar splitting his brow. The flash of a single tooth from between his slightly parted mouth, no sign of a second row of teeth. His lips, red and bitten ragged, but still somehow appealing. The mess of his hair, fanned out like some kind of crimson halo.
Katsuki cursed himself, tearing his eyes away. Then cursed himself again when he inevitably looked back. Then cursed himself a third time for noticing himself looking back. With a short scream he slumped to the floor beside the bed, breeze wafting in from the open balcony door as he began to count Kirishima's breaths.
Katsuki had some thinking to do.