Eijiro awakens to angry banging, beating in time with headache. For a moment he thinks he must be hungover. His body feels heavy, his mouth dry and mind hazy. It's only when the shouting starts that he realizes the thunderous noises originates from outside his own skull.
"Kirishima! Wake the fuck up! You're going to be fucking late!"
Eijiro runs a calloused palm over his face, trying to rouse himself into full alertness. He stretches out, back aching and bad knee twinging, and is surprised to find his feet falling over the edge of the bed. A sense of incongruity starts to nag at him.
Brow crinkling Eijiro tries to think, brain struggling under the strain of his throbbing head. Vague memories swim into his consciousness. A long patrol shift filling in for one of the sidekicks, hours of slog he's no longer used to. A last minuet villain attack, quickly defeated, but the left-over fire taking into the small hours of the morning to quench. Returning home to a dark house, bones weary and knees aching with barely enough energy to take off his costume and collapse onto the sofa. His husband, genius that he is, had left the spare throw over the edge, which he happily curled into.
There was something else. Something he was forgetting. Lost to the foggy mists of exhausted sleep. Something important.
Before Eijiro could finish his contemplations, or even rouse himself properly, there was a deafening crash. The door flying open, the poor lock obliterated in the violence. Bakugou Katsuki lowered his foot and stormed in afterwords.
"That's it! I'm gonna fucking-"
Reflexes born of decades have Eijiro moving before the door hits the opposite wall. His large, jagged palm closes around Bakugou's head, clamping his jaw shut. Eijiro spins, using his knee to punch the air from his captives' lungs with rib bruising force. He pressed Bakugou to the bed, gathering up the blond's smoking palms in his other hand, holding them vice like above Bakugou's head. Wide vermilion eyes stare up at him.
Eijiro lets out a breath, adrenaline fading. He takes in the bright crimson gaze. The fluffy, spiky blond hair. The small sparking palms. The soft, baby fat cheeks. The narrow teenage shoulders, adorned in a clear, crisp UA jacket.
Ah, that's what he had forgotten.
Warm fuzzy memories swim into focus. The press of a tiny hand tugging at the blanket in his sleep. A plaintive murmur of 'Papa', teary and in need of comfort. Enfolding that warm little bundle in his embrace, soothing it through the inevitable sniffles and back to sleep. His son needing a reassurance and a cuddle after a bad dream.
Eijiro lifts his knee, letting Bakugou suck in wheezing gasps of air. The blond makes a confused angry noise under Eijiro's palm. Seeing that young, teenage face Eijiro relaxes his grip.
Bakugou palms explode, light and smoke filling the small dorm room. Eijiro rears back, eyes stinging, and waves it away. A feral teenager then leaps at him, palms sparking. The windows rattle with the firecracker explosions, the shelves shake.
Explosions savage the bed sheets, the carpet, and the walls as Bakugou lets loose. Eijiro hardens just slightly, feeling the warm pattering of fireworks against his skin, warm like summer rain. He snatches Bakugou from the air, trapping the blond's arms at his sides and pulling until Bakugou's back was pressed to his chest. The blond's feet held clear off the floor and kicking ineffectively.
Bakugou palms continue to light and explode, dangerously close to Eijiro's crotch. He winces and shifts his hips back just slightly, hardening up just in case. His pants smoulder and the acrid stench of burning fabric fills the air.
"Calm down" Eijiro sooths, deep voice rumbling over the curses. "It's me, Kirishima Eijiro."
"The fuck! What kind of bullshit is that! Ass fucker, just you wait! I'm gonna fuckin' kill you!"
Eijiro sighs, having long grown past the point of being affected by such tantrums. The throbbing in his skull intensifies with the flashing lights of Bakugou's palms, shortening his patience.
"That's not going to work. Look, I can harden." Eijiro lets his quirk ripple in its simplest form down his arms. Making sure he doesn't crush Bakugou in the process.
The blond pauses in his attacks, breaths quick and sharp as he scrutinizes the changing skin. He savages his lip, hesitating, shoulders tense. Eijiro lowers Bakugou until his feet touch the ground. The boys head only comes midway up his chest and Eijiro uses his hight to his advantage, gazing down into those wide vermilion eyes, not risking releasing the teenager a second time.
Eijiro smiles winningly, flashing a mouthful of sharp teeth. Bakugou eyes fly to his eyelid, no doubt taking in his small, childhood scar.
"See, it's me. Or, at least, another me. Nice to meet you, Katsuki."
Bakugou, predictably, says "fuck".
—
Decades later and Aizawa's dry red stare still gives Eijiro goosebumps. The black smudges under his eyes only make it more menacing, his hair hovering ominously as he tries to cancel the quirk on Eijiro. He can feel his hardening simmering under his skin, held back with an invisible force, as disconcerting and terrifying as always.
Nothing else happens.
No matter how much his old teacher stares Eijiro remains. At least the teachers had been kind enough to get him another pair of pants and T-shirt before they began the interrogation. This situation was awkward enough without him being in the nude.
A moment later Aizawa hair falls and he sighs deeply, reaching for his eye drops. Principal Nedzu makes a contemplative noise and stirs his tea. All Might coughs wetly.
Eijiro smiles, taking them all in and letting his eyes linger, especially on All Might. He can't help the way his heart thumps and hangs heavy at seeing the legendary hero still alive, if crippled. Aizawa's hair is still black, something Eijiro hasn't seen in decades. The crows feet around his shrewd eyes are only just beginning to form. His hands don't shake as he applies his drops, fingers deft and sure, no sign of the long hard decades of life. It threatens to bring tears to Eijiro's eyes.
"So, you say your name is Kirishima Eijiro?" grumbles Aizawa, beginning the questioning.
"Yes" says Eijiro simply. He's been on the other side of this back and forth enough through his long hero career to know that short, concise answers are the best.
"Do you know where you are?"
"UA high school, premier institute of Heroics, Musutafu, Japan."
"Do you know who we are?"
"You are Aizawa Shouta, Underground Hero Eraser Head and, presumably, homeroom teacher of class A. On your right is Principle Nedzu of UA, on your left is Toshinori Yagi, Hero All Might and practical heroics teacher."
Eijiro picks up on the slight twitch of his old homeroom teachers brow, the pinch of his lips. All minuscule signs giving away his agitation.
"Kirishima Eijiro, the student Kirishima Eijiro, is nowhere to be found. Do you know of his whereabouts?" asks Aizawa.
"Yes."
The teachers tense, Eijiro forcefully stops himself from reacting in kind.
"Where is he?" Aizawa demands.
"In Tokyo, at my home, with my family, presumably on the sofa."
"Where in Tokyo?" Eijiro rattles off his address, knowing that it won't appear on any map search. "If we were to go this address would we find him."
"No. It doesn't exists yet."
Aizawa grits his teeth tighter, capture weapon starting to float. All Might sucks in a tense breath.
"You realize you are insinuating you are from the future with those remarks? To the best of my knowledge no time travel quirk has ever been recorded."
"I realize, yes. While it is not an entirely accurate understanding of the situation, it is fairly close to the truth." Eijiro keeps his voice low and sharp, the tension starting to affect him. It's been a long time since he did his anti-interrogation training, and he didn't remember being this anxious during it. Probably because this time he cared for his interrogators opinions.
"Perhaps," breaks in Nedzu gently, sipping his tea with his usual slightly manic smile. "You could give us an explanation in your own words."
Eijiro makes himself relax, settling back into his chair. He offers his own smile, hoping to put his teachers at ease. Aizawa doesn't budge an inch. All Mights frown remains worried and cautious.
"I, and in turn, the Kirishima Eijiro of this school, have been effected by a quirk and swapped places. This quirk is not strictly a time travel quirk, but something closer to a alternate reality switching quirk."
"So you are not Kirishima Eijiro?" says All Might, tapping the table nervously.
"I am a Kirishima Eijiro, the one from my reality. As far as I have seen so far, this reality and my reality have little to no differences. I also attended UA, Mr Aizawa was my homeroom teacher and you, All Might, were my Heroics teacher. I graduated and have been working as the Pro Hero Red Riot ever since. The only obvious difference between our two realities seems to be the flow of time. Thus, it could very well be that the present of my reality is a future of this one."
"So, we are to assume that the Kirishima Eijiro of this reality is now in your reality?" asked Aizawa.
"That would be correct. The quirk is incapable of sending someone to another reality without swapping them with an equivalent alternate."
Nedzu leans forward with interest, "fascinating. Real proof of alternate realities. Can the quirk send you to any reality? Can the holder distinguish between different realities and choose where to send someone? Does it work on inorganic matter?"
Eijiro edges back from the humanoid mouse's his manic smile. "The quirk is currently simply known as 'Swap'. It works on inorganic matter too. It can only swap things with similar realities. Those 'closer' to the holders reality, if you like. At this current stage, the realities effected are random and cannot be chosen at will."
"What do you mean 'at this current stage'?" asks All Might.
"We think the quirk may evolve with more time and understanding, to allow for greater control."
"You seem to know a lot about this quirk?" says Aizawa pointedly.
Eijiro shrugs, "We're figuring it out."
"Who's 'we'?"
"Me and my husband. I mean, my son's only six after all."
The tension breaks. Aizawa and All Might pull back in surprise, blinking. Nedzu makes an 'aha!' noise and goes back to his tea. Muttering every so often about alternate realities and musing on how the quirk might work. Eijiro makes a mental note to talk to the principle before leaving. He was meant to be a genius, maybe he would have a better idea about how his sons quirk actually worked.
"Your son?" asks All Might eventually, considerably warmer than before.
Eijiro smiles, voice going gooey with pride. "Yeah, he got his quirk a little late but he's really coming along. It's been awhile since he's had an accident like this. Wait, I think I have a picture of him."
Eijiro goes to reach for his wallet before remembering these weren't his pants. His shoulders slump in defeat and he offers an awkward shrug.
"Or not" he says, smiling awkwardly. "He's super cute though, really takes after his Dad. Though he's got my hair."
Grumbling slightly but looking considerably less murderous at Eijiro's gushing Aizawa eventually lets the last of the tension in his shoulders fall.
"So this is all a quirk accident?" he asks.
"Yep. I got back from work late, fell asleep on the sofa. I can't remember fully but I think my son must have had a night terror, I vaguely remember him coming for a cuddle. He probably used his quirk then, or a little later."
"What about Kirishima-boy, is he in any danger?" asked All Might intently.
"I wouldn't think so. My husband's home and so are half the kids. He should just wake up on the sofa. Confused, but fine. Unless he goes running out into traffic or something he should be just fine. Though I imagine the kids might have some fun with him. Their little devils sometimes, especially the twins."
"Thankfully Kirishima is one of our more sensible students. I don't think he will do anything to extreme," said Aizawa, with faint approval.
Eijiro smiled, taking the praise for his younger alternate.
"Do you know when this quirk will end?"
Eijiro thinks about it, "Well, I've only been effected once before and that time it lasted around 10 hours. However, we've noticed that the quirk is growing stronger as my son ages so I imagine it will be a bit longer now. 15 to 18 hours? 24, tops."
"And we don't know when you first arrived," grumbled Aizawa.
Eijiro winces, "unfortunately, no. Being effected by the quirk tends to be draining, and since I was already asleep I just remained so. But I did wake up feeling fairly rough, so I don't think it will have been too long since I swapped."
"It appears we have no choice then but to wait this out and trust in your husbands ability to keep young Kirishima safe," says Nedzu, standing. Eijiro feels relief sweep through him, glad that his old teachers believe him. He would have been a little hurt if they didn't.
"I don't see a reason to keep you confined" continued the principle. "But I would ask that you don't leave the campus. Aizawa, All Might? Perhaps one of you would not mind escorting our guest?"
Aizawa heaves a sigh, sinking into himself like a popped balloon. "Well, there goes todays lesson plan." He gets ponderously to his feet, motioning Eijiro to follow him. "Come on, I've left the class alone too long already, gods knows what trouble they've got up to."
—
Katsuki slumps in his seat, hands deep in his pockets and feet on his desk, eyes flickering impatiently to the door. He had been fuming since the moment Aizawa took the Kirishima impostor away for questioning and told Bakugou to get to class. Katsuki's screaming agitation had done nothing to change his teachers mind. He had been firmly separated from the man, told to keep his mouth shut, and left out of the loop.
Katsuki was getting fucking tired of being left out of the loop. He was going to be the number one fucking hero! He could look after himself! No stupid fucking villain was going to bring him down, he would blast their fucking faces off!
Even if the Kirishima impostor had managed to easily disarm him-twice!
Just remembering being held like a misbehaving toddler to that broad barrelled chest had Katsuki's rage simmering. Those arms had been strong enough to crush him, the knee placed on his chest heavy enough to leave him gasping for air. He could just tell he was forming a nice set of bruises across his chest. To make it even more insulting his explosions hadn't done anything! At least Shitty Hair sometimes flinched when caught off guard.
And that was another thing! Shitty Hair was nowhere to be seen, and the only one to have any answers was that smug faced bastard impostor. Katsuki vowed to himself to Howitzer the mans face at least once before this was all over.
The door slid open and the class instantly fell silent. Katsuki glared, slowly lowering his feet from his desk and placing them firmly on the floor. He removed his hands from his pockets, flexing his palms in preparation.
The Kirishima impostor beamed at them, flashing menacingly sharp teeth.
Aizawa sighed, taking the moment of surprise to get a word in before the chaos started. "Everyone, as of sometime in the early hours of this morning Kirishima was involved in a quirk accident. We have ascertained, to the best of our ability, that he is in no danger. Until the quirk has run its course Kirishima-this Kirishima-will be under surveillance."
Older Kirishima waved happily, still smiling. The entirety of 1-A stared, intent. The room near vibrated with repressed energy.
Aizawa sighed again, beginning to zip himself into his sleeping bag. "Self-study period. Do what you like." Then in one deft movement he dropped and rolled himself under the desk. Letting the chaos reign.
There was a whooshing noise as nineteen students collectively drew breath to yell.
Boom!
Katsuki's explosion drowned out the extras. They could have their scream fest later. First, he was getting his fucking answers.
The Kirishima impostor waved away the smoke, looking unconcerned to have a snarling Lord Explosion Murder in his face.
"Sup?"
Katsuki's palms sparked again in sheer agitation. "Shut the fuck up, fucking faker! Just who the fuck are you?! Where's Kirishima?! Answer me!"
The impostor rocked back on his heels, leaning against Aizawa's desk and giving Katsuki an amused stare. "Which one do you want me to do first? Give you answers or shut up?"
"You!" Katsuki took a threatening step forward, already thinking of the best way to bring the fucker down.
The impostor threw his head back and laughed, unconcerned with Katsuki's looming threat to murder. "Alright, alright. Calm down. I'm only teasing. I forget just how easily riled you got at this age."
The man looked down, staring directly into Katsuki's eyes, something warm and fond taking over his expression. Katsuki bristled, feeling more uncomfortable than he would have with outright hostility.
No matter how he looked at it this man really did just look like and act like an older Kirishima. Just taller, more muscular and with a deeper vice. His carmine cat shaped eyes, so achingly familiar and softening an otherwise sharp angled adult face. The only signs of the passing years a few small scars and the laugh lines that appeared around his eyes when he smiled.
"Right! Self introduction time!"
Kirishima -possibly, maybe, he was still a fucking impostor- stood upright, looming tall and imposing over Katsuki and the rest of the class. Katsuki refused to step back but found himself having to crane his neck uncomfortably to stare upwards. Seriously, the man couldn't be much smaller than All Might at his prime. Katsuki eyed the imposter's biceps, poorly concealed in an ill-fitting shirt. He had the muscle structure to match All Might in his prime too. No wonder his fucking ribs were bruised.
Hardening rippled down those imposing biceps, turning them jagged and stone like. Kirishima slammed his arms together, the satisfying 'clack' of his knuckles meeting in his signature pose sounding like a cliff face breaking.
"Nice to meet you all! I'm Kirishima Eijiro, also known as Pro-Hero Red Riot, of the Tokyo district. I'm only going to be here for a day but I look forward to spending time with you." The man even smiled like Kirishima. Bright and blinding with just a flash of danger.
By this point whatever sway Katsuki had over the situation completely dissolved. Eighteen other hero hopefuls rushed forward to crowd around the new, older Kirishima.
"Holy Shit! You're so tall!"
"And so hot!"
"Mina!?"
"What? He is! Look at those muscles, come to Mumma!"
"Are you really Kirishima?"
"What happened!? Is everything okay!"
"Are you from the future!? What the fuck! Is that even possible!?"
Older Kirishima laughed, head thrown back and flashing a second row of incisors, nestled away behind the first. Their Kirishima certainly didn't have those, thought Katsuki.
"Alright, alright. One at a time" said Older Kirishima, still smiling.
"Just who the fuck are you fucker?" growled Bakugou, wrestling for control. Why did no one in this god forsaken school respect his authority!
Kirishima sighed, but it sounded fond. "I told you Katsu, I'm Kirishima Eijiro. I'm just, a different Kirishima Eijiro to the one you know. Or possibly the same, only time will tell." He shrugged, like that wasn't one fucking cryptic sentence.
Katsuki felt his stupid fucking face flush and firmly told it to stop that shit right now. He wasn't going to get all mushy over an older, grizzled Kirishima saying his first name, all casual and familiar and warm like that. He wasn't!
While Katsuki was having his internal crises over a fucking name of all things, the other chuckle fucks took it as permission to pounce.
"So, you are from the future!" cried Kaminari, "how is it? Am I there? Am I famous? Do we still talk? Are there flying cars?"
"What should we be investing in?" said Sero, apparently in charge of the squads collective braincell for the day.
Several of the girls started to slowly circle the man, like a pack of giggling piranhas. Katsuki could see the heart eyes. The swooning. The way their gazes came to rest on the frankly ridiculously wide shoulders, those bulging biceps, the thick thighs, barely contained in the slightly too small pants he had forced himself into.
The bobbing of that adams-apple, the five-o'-clock shadow shading that sharp jaw line, the thin appealing lips, bottom one scarred and jutting out in the slightest pout, the waves upon waves of black and red hair, like a fucking mane, held up messily with a bun. Tied with the kind of careless confident disregard for looks that just made the man all the more appealing.
Katsuki tore his eyes away and firmly told his stomach that it could stop swooning and fuck off right along with his blushing face.
"I'm from a potential future. Possibly," said Older Kirishima, shaking one of his hands in an 'in-between' motion. "It's a little on the hazy side."
"But-but time travel quirks can't exists!" cried Deku, having been muttering to himself all the while and scribbling in one of his godforsaken notebooks. The broccoli dweeb looked about ready to burst with questions. "Paradox theory negates their existence! This could change every known law of quirk theory out there! What if something goes wrong? What if you get stuck here? Or not stuck here? What about the other you? Younger you. What if he changes something! What if you accidentally kill yourself?! What if time collapses?!" Midoriya cried, gasping as he tried to simultaneously draw breath and keep talking, ending up chocking on his own spit.
"Whoa, whoa Midoriya. Calm down, breath. Deep breaths. It's alright, okay. There's nothing to worry about, trust me." Kirishima lay a large palm on the nerds shoulders, speaking soothingly in his low grumbly voice. Every inch of him the concerned, caring hero.
Now Katsuki's fucking heart was tripping all over itself too. Over a scene with fucking Deku in it, of all people!
"He's got a point dude. Isn't time travel, like, hella dangerous? It always goes wrong in the movies. What if you change something that stops you going back?" asked Sero.
"But what about the movies where it's all set in stone already? Like, no matter what you do you will always end up doing the thing you were gonna need to do to get the point you are to begin with," interjected Kaminari, already distracted.
"Like a self fulfilling prophecy?" said Jiro.
Kaminari snapped his fingers, "yeah. That thing. Isn't it alright if it's like that? Cause no matter what you do you wont do anything to effect the future, cause you've already done it once before."
"While that could be true, it does bring up the argument of at what point does an action happen for the first time?" broke in Ponytail, the know it all wading into the debate. "Assumingly, there has to be a 'first' time line in which you carried out an action before time travel. Or the paradox persists."
"Wouldn't that just mean you're going in circles though?" Mina frowned, worrying her lip as she tried to keep up.
"What mad carousel of darkness this is" intoned Tokoyami, nodding along.
Kirishima grimaced, looking at them all talk themselves into circle. He clapped to get everyone's attention, like a fucking kindergarten teacher. To Katsuki's irritation it worked, the rabble falling silent in eager anticipation.
"Hey, hey, calm down. It's not that complicated. Midoriya, time travel quirks don't exists, not precisely. Because 'time lines' themselves don't really exists. Rather than being sent to a different time consider it more like being sent to a different reality. Only one extremely similar to the one I'm from. In all likelihood, times infinity, this reality will continue along to a point where it becomes exactly alike to the reality I'm from, in which case it comes to be that, yes, I am from the future. But in all other likelihood, times infinity, something changes and a different future unfolds. It doesn't matter that I'm here because there is no set future that I am from, only my present. And there is no set time line you are from, only your present too. It just so happens that we are both occupying the same present at this moment in time and because of the similarities of my previous and your current present this makes the illusion of time travel. Get it."
They stared. Katsuki worked his mind furiously trying to keep up. Ponytail had a fine wrinkle in her brow as she puzzled it out. Midoriya was scribbling.
Ashido raided her hand. "I don't get it."
Kirishima blew out a long breath, shrugging. "Simply put. Times relative, paradoxes don't exists and it's all not worth worrying about. So chill."
"So, so does this mean you're from the future?" repeated Kaminari, having circled around to the same question. The boy looked as out of it as when he overused his quirk.
"For the sake of argument, lets say maybe."
"So if your present is more like another reality, and paradoxes don't exists, you telling us about it won't change our future?" asked Todoroki, cutting the heart of the issue.
Kirishima paused, thinking about it. "Technically no. Not in the way you're thinking. But-" he raised a hand, pausing the flood of incoming questions. "Before you ask me anything I would like to remind you, you are all training to be heroes." The joviality in those crimson eyes fled, those wide shoulders drawing high and imposing in the sudden sombre hush.
"The glory of the job goes hand in hand with danger. If your school days have been anything like mine then you have already experienced, some of you personally, just how dangerous this job can be. And just how demanding, in other areas of your life. Sacrifices have to be made. Compromises don't always work out. Happy endings take hard work and sometimes luck isn't on your side. So, before you ask me anything, think it through. Are you prepared for any possible answer?"
Katsuki swallowed, feeling the words settle heavy in his chest. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth.
He didn't need to know. No matter the answer he wasn't going to stop. He wasn't going to falter. He would reach his goal or it would kill him. That had always been how it was going to be. He didn't need to know.
It was precisely because of that fact that he asked anyway.
"Do I get to number one?" he snapped out, glaring the older Kirishima dead in the eyes.
Kirishima's gaze locked on him, assessing for a long drawn-out moment. Katsuki held his breath, the man drawing out the pause for one awful moment. Then the redhead lifted a rueful eyebrow, flashing a shark like smile.
"Yeah. A couple of times in our prime."
"A couple of times? The fuck does that mean?"
"I think the longest you held the position consecutively was three years." Kirishima began counting on his fingers, muttering dates to himself. "Or maybe four years? There was a big shake up around our late twenties on how everything got categorized so it's a little hard to tell."
Katsuki blinked, taking that in. Trying to decide how he felt. It was good, to hear that he got there. To know he could make it. If only he kept going, kept trying and working and fighting his way to the top.
On the other hand…what the hell? Four years? That's it? What happened to his undisputed victory? Which fuckers dared dethrone him? His eyes flickered to his right. Was it Deku? Did the dweeb really get to the same level as him with his burrowed quirk?
"Who else got number one?" asked Hagakure, overcome with curiosity and apparently not caring that she was baiting the tiger that was Bakugou Katsuki's pride. Midoriya shuffled back, Todoroki took a step forward. Katsuki sneered at the both of them.
"Oh, well, lets see," continued Kirishima, either oblivious too or ignoring the uneasy shuffling. "Well, me, for one. I actually got it before Katsu, which really pissed him off I can tell you. He sulked for months." The fondness was back, the plain, obvious affection. Katsuki would have been more unnerved from it if he wasn't gaping. Listening to the redhead rattle on like he wasn't fucking blowing everyones mind. "Midoriya had it a few times, but he went overseas for quite a while so wasn't really active in Japan for his prime. Otherwise, he probably would have held it more often. Todoroki a couple of years, Kaminari got it on special dis-compensation."
"Me!" yelled the electric blond, looking as baffled as the rest of them.
Kirishima continued without pause, "Yaoyorozu reached the peak before any of us, and a couple more came close. A few others from different schools. Now it's mostly the younger generation taking the spots. I think MagmaDiva has it right now. Or possibly Orb-exsorbe? I can't remember. I know Kitzam is in top three, she keeps complaining to me about it when I check in on the office."
"Wait, wait, wait! Hold the freaking phone!" Kaminari shouted, cutting off Kirishima's rambling. The mans love of talking about everyone under the sun like others were just as interested in complete strangers fucking lives he was hadn't changed.
"I got number one! Me! Chargebolt!" Kaminari waved to himself, encapsulating all 5'7 of his lanky teenage form. "Me!" He said again, with clear disbelief.
"Yep. Though it was more of an honour position to go with your award. But considering the circumstances, no one was going to argue that it counted. Katsu even fried a reporter who dared to question him about it. But, well, we weren't all in the best state of mind right then." Kirishima scratched the back of his head, eyes going glassy, staring off into memories.
"Wha? How? How did I get it? What award?"
Kirishima blinked, coming back to the present. He flinched, biting his lip, and hesitated. Katsuki's hackles rose on instinct.
"What are you hiding fucker? What did he do?"
"It's nothing bad," assured Kirishima, "I'm just not sure I should tell you the full story. It's not…pretty."
Kaminari paled, hands shaking and pressing to his own chest. "Did I die?" He whispered, breath hitching. Katsuki hackles weren't the only ones to raise at the insinuation. Sero, Ashido and Jiro closing in around the boy like it was the Older Kirishima himself threatening his life.
"No! No. You didn't die. Thank god. But, well, it was kind of close. You saved a lot of people. A lot, a lot of people. Hundreds of thousands, possibly millions. But, it came with consequences. Pretty longterm consequences. You had to retire after that. Though you're a lot better now."
Kaminari swallowed, staring at his feet. The air grew awkward and tense as he continued to remain mute. The others shared uneasy glances. The buzzing curiosity of the class dampened, the harshness of reality coming home. Older Kirishima had warned them they wouldn't like all the answers, that the lives of pro-heroes were dangerous. Now, maybe they would listen.
"W-well, I guess we know Bakugou's doing alright. If you're calling him 'Katsu' and all," Uraraka flustered, trying her best to lighten the mood. "You guys are still friends then?"
Older Kirishima blinked, eyes flickering to Katsuki questioningly. Katsuki glared back at him.
"Yeah, we're…friends?" Older Kirishima said slowly, still looking at Katsuki questioningly. Katsuki glared harder, what the hell did the man want? Were they friends, or weren't they? Katsuki couldn't imagine letting the redhead call him 'Katsu', of all things, if they weren't.
Older Kirishima tilted his head, looking non-pulsed and slightly, sad? Confused? Disappointed? Just what the hell did he have to be disappointed about?
"Well, I guess not everything's the same" he muttered.