Kirishima sat quietly on the edge of his bed, fingers laced together in front of his lips, elbows on his knees. The boy was deep in thought. Deep in thought about a girl. A girl he had thought he liked, and now he was positive he liked.
How long had she been at the park to be that soaked?
I hope she doesn't catch a cold.
At least it seems like her knees will be okay. The wounds weren't as deep as they looked.
She must have been in shock. That must be why she couldn't stand.
"Why was she running in the first place to slip like that though?" Kirishima murmured quietly.
"And why was she crying?"
Katsuki Bakugo wasn't a cryer, not without a good reason at least. To an outsider, one might have thought that she was crying over the scrapes in her knees, but Bakugo had an amazing pain tolerance. Those cuts wouldn't have bothered her. So what had bothered her so much that she cried? In the rain? Outside? In public?
"What is going on with you Katsuki Bakugo? You're such a mystery. You make no sense to me. What fazed you so much that you could barley stand and I had to carry you home?"
Kirishima rubbed his thumb across his lip thoughtfully.
He had really carried Katsuki Bakugo on his back, huh?
Why would Bakugo ever let him do something that she would probably consider so embarrassing?
Letting him carry her on his back? And hold on to her thighs?
Kirishima could feel his face turning red from the thought.
"Geez Eijiro! Get a hold of yourself!" Kirishima flopped backwards onto his bed, hands over his burning face as the thought tugged at his brain.
Those soft, plush thighs. The way his hands had just sunk into the doughiness underneath those pants. So pillowy, yet so strong. Kirishima was sure those thighs could crush a watermelon. Despite their soft exterior, those thighs were packed with hard earned muscle. Kirishima could feel it underneath his hands as he had held on to them. Would her ass feel the same way? How he would love it if those thighs would—
"Nope nope nope." Kirishima frantically muttered under his breath. "We are so not going there."
His brain however, had other plans as more dirty thoughts crawled their way into his mind.
The soft, squishy feeling on his back. Pressed close against him and bouncing slightly with every step he took. They couldn't be as big as he felt they were against his back, right? It had only been a little less than a year since that chest was completely flat. And yet, they had felt so… soft. The way they had squished against his back with every step was almost criminal. They were heavy and dense, but pillow-like and squishy as well. Had she noticed? Had she noticed how every time she moved a bit closer, those did as well? The heavenly, yet sinful cushions that would probably haunt his mind forever?
Kirishima flipped over and let out a muffled groan into his pillow. This girl was really going to be the death of him if he couldn't get a hold of himself.
He lifted his face out of the pillow and let out a sigh. She had smelled so nice. Like fresh rain and cinnamon. If Kirishima could give that smell a name, what would it be? Something spicy and romantic. Like "Lovers in the Rain'' or "Morning Romance." Or just "Katsuki''. Yeah. That was good.
Kirishima held tightly on to his pillow as he thought more about that girl. He just wished he could have been able to see her face the entire walk home, her emotions and reactions to everything he said. Then maybe he could have understood more of all the words that had left her soft lips.
Having her ride on his back was nice, sure. But it wasn't just seeing Bakugo face to face. That was what he enjoyed most. Because she had such a beautiful face, especially when she was calm. The way her lips moved as she spoke was also beautiful. Every word she said was a gift to Kirishima's ears.
If only he could tell her that. If he could tell her all the things he noticed about her. The way she laughed like an evil genius. How she fiddled with her sleeve cuffs when she was bored. Or how she moved like a cheetah when she was on a court or field. How every word she said seemed to be said with purpose and intent.
Everything she did, Kirishima noticed. Maybe he didn't always watch or pay attention, but he noticed. And he wanted to tell her that he noticed. He wanted to tell her how he'd always noticed. How he idolized her, yet still wanted to be next to her. How he wanted to hear her say that she noticed too.
"Stop it Eijiro." Kirishima muttered to himself. His brain began to suddenly garble with static as the annoying, self deprecating thoughts began to crawl their way back into his mind, disturbing his moment of happiness. "You don't deserve to even look at her with how massive of a shit you've been."
Kirishima shut his eyes and slammed his fist into the bed sheets, over and over. Hit after hit. Expressing all the emotions he wanted to express onto himself in that very moment.
"Dammit!"
Kirishima dragged his hands down his face with a groan. How in the world could he be thinking about something like this when he had almost walked away. Again.
He had almost got up and left, hurt her even more. Just like always, he had almost done the wrong thing.
I'm such an asshole.
And a creep. Thinking things like this about a girl that probably, no should hate me.
There was no way he could ever tell Bakugo how he felt after he'd treated her so horribly up till now.
The way she had said, "Just be there." She was always there, but he wasn't. He wanted to be, and yet he always stopped himself.
That's what assholes do. Shitty, boulder brained assholes.
I was the one who offered to carry her, free her from some pain. And yet in the end, it was her that was consoling me.
It's so unmanly.
The boy is supposed to protect the girl, and yet it's always Katsuki protecting me. Even now.
"FUCK!"
Kirishima rubbed the balls of his palms into his eyes, trying to sort out the static in his head.
"She has it so much worse than me, and yet here I am pouting like a child." Kirishima sighed. "She had her whole world turned upside down and she is still going."
Telling her about his feelings now would be the same as running away. The same as leaving her alone in a bathroom stall. Because if he dumped all of this on her now, when she was clearly dealing with other things, it would hurt her more. And Kirishima had made himself a promise while that girl had been holding tightly onto his strong shoulders, he had promised not to hurt her again.
No matter what, he wouldn't let Bakugo cry again, not while he was around. He would be the man. He would take action, instead of running away like a coward.
The next time Katsuki Bakugo cried, it would be tears of joy and understanding. Tears of love and affection. Then everything would be okay. Everything would be good.
But first, he had to get that ball rolling. A ball rolling towards happiness. He had to apologize, and fix his mistakes.
He would be there for her, and nothing would get in his way. No one would get in his way. Not a thing in the world could stop him now.
Kirishima sat up and picked up the phone sitting on the end of his bed. Quickly opening it, he opened his text messages.
He quickly typed out a single message, clicking send before he could think otherwise.
His phone made a quick sound, informing him the message had been sent, and Kirishima let out a sigh.
There was no turning back now. All he could do was wait for a reply.
--
"What do you expect me to do when you come home two hours after you said you would, with bloody bandages around your knees and clothes so soaked it looks like you jumped into a lake!?"
"Shut up you old hag!" Bakugo shouted back at their mother.
"Don't you yell at your mother, you good for nothing worm!" Mitsuki screeched. "I was worried goddammit!"
"Well you shouldn't have been!" Bakugo screeched back. "I was fine!"
"Clearly you were not!" Mitsuki yelled, gesturing towards Bakugo's knees. "What in the world were you doing!? How did you scrape your knees?!"
"I told you I'm fine!" Bakugo yelled and sunk farther into the sofa. Maybe if they sunk in far enough, the sofa would just envelope them entirely, and they could escape this entire situation.
"I said tell me what happened!" Mitsuki stopped pacing around the room to stand in front of Bakugo.
"I fell! Okay?! Kirishima brought me home and patched me up. So it's fine." Bakugo growled.
Mitsuki stared down at Bakugo, her gaze burning into them, but instead of continuing to yell, she gave one last glare, before marching up the stairs, leaving Bakugo alone in the living room.
Bakugo took a deep breath and checked the time on the wall clock.
7:23
Jeez. It felt so much later. That walk home had seemed to take forever.
Bakugo looked down at their knees. They still burned slightly, but felt much better than they had earlier. Kirishima had taken Bakugo to his house to fix them up. He had plucked out all the bits of asphalt and rocks from them, which had hurt like hell, and then put some antiseptic ointment on them which had also hurt like hell. Lastly, he had bandaged them up and brought Bakugo home. And now here they were, sitting alone on the sofa.
So much had been said on that little walk. So much, that it was hard to take it all in. It was also hard to take in the fact that the boy who had left, might now be coming back. Maybe. Hopefully.
It would make things so much simpler yet so much more complicated at the same time if he did. How long would Bakugo be able to avoid the subject of what exactly the boy's feelings for them were? Bakugo couldn't dodge it forever. Eventually, Bakugo wouldn't be able to stop it from happening. It would be inevitable.
I suppose I'll just enjoy this for what it is for now.
Whatever this is.
In his arms, Bakugo had felt so… safe.
His arms had been strong and warm against Bakugo's freezing cold body. His back was so large and hard, like a steady boulder, or immovable rock. His hands had been so powerful and strong, holding on so tightly and securely to Bakugo's legs. The way he had picked them up had been so effortless. Since when had he become so…
Bakugo shifted their brain, trying to ignore that uncomfortable topic, and move on to another one instead.
The topic their brain landed on was their clothing. As soon as they had gotten home, their mother had forced them to change out of their damp, rain soaked hoodie and pants. Bakugo had complied, but done so reluctantly, because the hoodie had finally smelled like him again.
Being pressed to him, the hoodie seemed to absorb that sweet, earthy scent until it clung to every fiber, every thread. Bakugo adored that smell. Being surrounded in it made them feel like they were once again in his safe, comforting arms.
But instead, they had been forced to throw it in the wash and just hope and pray the smell remained afterwards. Instead of the wonderful hoodie, they had to wear a different, not so wonderful one. An army green one that wasn't as soft, wasn't as well made, one that didn't smell like him. They had to change into that defirior hoodie and a pair of far too short black gym shorts.
Bakugo was too caught up in their head at first to hear the knocking at the door. It was like a fly buzzing around their head. They let it be at first, ignored it. Then it became too persistent to ignore.
Bakugo looked at the door and grumbled to themselves. Who the hell would be coming door to door at this hour?
Annoyed, Bakugo picked themselves up off the couch as wandered lazily over to the door.
"Go away! We're not interested in whatever bullshit you're trying to sell!" Bakugo yelled angrily through the door.
The knocking stopped.
Good. They went away.
Bakugo turned to walk away from the door and back to their sofa safe place, but before they could, a voice echoed through the other side of the door.
"Uh, I'm really sorry to bother you so late! But, uh… I'm not here to sell stuff."
Bakugo glared back at the door. The voice was timid and anxious, but was definitely a guy's voice. One that Bakugo wasn't sure if they'd heard before or not. But it sure was annoying as hell.
"Annoying little… What do you want then?! You here to tell me about your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?! Well I don't give a shit!" Bakugo shouted back, thoroughly pissed off at this point. Not only that the person on the other side of the door was so persistent, but also because they had interrupted Bakugo's sulking.
"No, I uh… I'm here looking for a Katsuki Bakugo? Do they live here perhaps?"
Bakugo froze for one of two reasons. One, they were here looking for them. Two, they had referred to Bakugo as them. That meant they were unsure of Bakugo's gender. And that meant that they didn't know Bakugo. And yet they were here looking for them?
Weird.
"Why the hell are you looking for Katsuki Bakugo?" Bakugo called back through the door cautiously, but still keeping their aggressive tone.
"Does that mean they still live here?" The voice said. It seemed a bit happier now, a bit more relaxed. "I'm a friend! I was wondering if I could come say hi."
A friend?
Bakugo didn't have many friends, especially none they didn't know the voice of. Bakugo didn't trust whoever this guy was one bit, but something told them they needed to know more, needed to know who this was.
Slowly, Bakugo reached for the door knob and carefully twisted it. The door slowly creaked open bit by bit, revealing a boy standing there in the dim porch light.
Bakugo's eyes slowly traveled up his body, first taking in the atrocious red sneakers, then the baggy black shorts, then the simple white t-shirt, and then the face. The boy had a relatively plain looking face, but a good one. He had a soft yet strong jawline and bright, happy green eyes that flickered with joy and curiosity as they took in Bakugo's face. His cheeks were dusted with a generous amount of freckles that complimented his messy, green-black curls on the top of his head. Strangely familiar messy green hair.
There was a wide, but cautious smile on his face as he shyly waved a Bakugo, allowing Bakugo to fully take in the numerous scars on his weirdly strong hand and oddly buff arm. He was maybe a little bit taller than Bakugo, but still relatively short for a boy. Other than his height, his strong muscular body that could be seen beneath his white shirt, did not match his friendly face.
The boy scanned Bakugo's face for a bit longer before traveling a bit farther down their body. Even though they were wearing a baggy sweatshirt, Bakugo had the urge to cover their chest with their arms.
The boy's eyes seemed to suddenly spark with recognition and he looked back up at Bakugo's face.
"H- Hi Mitsuki! I was wondering if Kacchan was home?"
Kacchan? What the—
"Wait, you think I'm my…" Bakugo stopped and stared a bit closer at those messy dark curls, spotty freckles, and big green eyes.
"Hold on…"
The boy stared at Bakugo with an equally confused expression.
Kacchan. That hair. That annoying voice.
"No way... " Bakugo took a step back, but tripped over the carpet and stumbled to the ground, falling flat on their ass.
"Oh my goodness!" The boy squeaked and quickly kneeled down next to Bakugo, offering them a hand. "Are you okay Aunty Mitsuki?"
"I'm not- You're—"
The boy brows furrowed a bit with sudden disappointment as he held out his hand, but he had a small sad, yet slightly amused smile on his face. "Do you not remember me? I know it's been a few years, but I haven't changed that much. It's me—"
"Izuku Midoriya." Bakugo sputtered out at the same time as the boy.
Midoriya's face lit up with happiness at the fact the girl on the floor remembered his face. "You do remember! That's great!"
The two looked up when the sound of stomping started upstairs and slowly moved down the hallway, and to the top of the stairs.
"Katsuki! What the hell is all that noise down there?!" Mitsuki's voice screamed across the house and angry footsteps slowly descended the stairs.
The two teenagers looked up as Mitsuki entered the front room to see Bakugo on the floor, and a very confused Midoriya looking back and forth between mother and daughter. He quickly stood up and continued to stare at the two in front of him.
"Katsuki? Who the hell did you let into our house?" Mitsuki barked as she glared at Midoriya, then her face seemed to flash with subtle recognition and she moved a bit closer, studying the boy's face.
"Hold on." Midoriya murmured quietly. He turned his head to look down at Bakugo who was slowly getting up off the ground. As they stood up, Mitsuki walked over to stand next to them and continued to study the possibly stranger in the doorway.
He slowly started to mutter under his breath and his green eyes quickly flicked between the two. "That one is most definitely Aunty Mitsuki, and Kaccchan didn't have a sibling when I lived here, at least not that I can remember. If they had another kid after I left, there would be no way they could be any older than ten or eleven or somewhere around there. Maybe she's a cousin? Or some other relative? But Aunty Mitsuki just called her… Unless… " His eyes widened. "There's no way…"
Bakugo suddenly felt very self conscious as the boy's eyes scanned once again over their body. They wanted to hide somewhere away from his gaze. The situation just seemed so backwards. Bakugo should have been the boy looking down on the girl, but instead, they were the one looking up.
Midoriya slowly meet eyes with Bakugo and pointed a finger at Bakugo's face. "You're… Are you…"
Bakugo wanted to squirm under the lazer-like gaze of his confused expression, but instead opted to just wrap their arms tightly around their body, closing themselves off the best they could.
"Kacchan? Is that… you?"
Bakugo could feel their face twist with anger. Great. Wonderful. That was an emotion Bakugo was good with. The familiar rage was comforting as they forced their hands to rest on their hips in a cocky manner, staring up at the boy with every single speck of fury painted onto their face. Bakugo could almost feel the fire burning in their eyes as they spit out each individual word ferociously.
"Yeah? And what of it Deku? You have something you wanna say?"
The boy's eyes just grew even wider and he took a step backwards, placing a scarred hand across his open mouth in silent shock. Those infuriatingly green eyes once again scanned up and down Bakugo's form.
"No! I… It's just…" He stuttered with every word until he slowly dropped his hand and his voice became almost inaudible. "You're a girl…"
Bakugo could feel their fingernails digging painfully into the palms of their hands as their digits slowly closed into tight fists at their sides. They could almost feel the anger and embarrassment boiling up from their toes to their neck and materializing itself as a froth in the back of their throat. It burned like acid against their vocal chords.
"Yeah. Yeah I am. Do you have any more genius observations you would like to make?" Bakugo spat out the words aggressively and the boy flinched slightly.
"I'm just a little… surprised?" The boy straightened up a bit more and looked down at Bakugo, his green eyes neither cocncerd nor cocky. Bakugo couldn't make out what exactly that intense expression was.
"I could say the same about you." Bakugo growled, folding their arms beneath their chest.
Midoriya suddenly seemed a little bit bashful and he scratched the back of his neck with one of his hands. "Yeah I guess you would be. Honestly, my transition was a surprise for both me and mom. It kinda came out of nowhere, but I guess that little promise Kirishima and you made had a bit of an affect on me." He smiled at the floor bashfully. Bakugo thought it just made him look like an idiot.
Midoriya's green eyes then flicked around nervously, occasionally looking at Bakugo, then looking anywhere but at Bakugo. "So, uh… what made you decide to… uh…"
"I didn't decide." Bakugo hissed at the timid boy.
Midoriya's eyes widened with surprise and a hint of fascination. "You… didn't? Does that mean…" He suddenly seemed to get very excited and took a step closer to Bakugo. "Does that mean you experienced that rare gender phenomenon?"
Bakugo took a step back to counter the boy's advances. "That… what? What the hell did you call it? Yeah, I think?"
Midoriya just continued to ramble as Bakugo stood there confused and annoyed. "It's that rare phenomenon caused by a gene malfunction, or something like that. I don't remember exactly how that works. DNA stuff is hard. But it's that thing where the body randomly chooses a gender instead of letting the person decide! Did you know that a lot more people in the world have it then we actually know of because sometimes it actually goes with the gender the person actually wanted but you know, the body actually chooses it, not the person. It is incredibly fascinating! I have a friend named Suto Yoshiaki who had it happen to him. It was really hard for him for awhile but he's doing great now and—"
"Izuku." Bakugo had completely forgotten their mother was standing next to them until she addressed the rambling boy, cutting his strange monologue short. "What are you doing here at our house? Didn't your family move to Osaka?"
"Oh, yeah we did!" The boy said, nervously smiling at Mitsuki. "But we moved back here two days ago, into our old house next door actually. Sorry I didn't stop by until today. I was busy helping my mom unpack."
"Oh that's wonderful!" Mitsuki swatted Bakugo on the back, sending them stumbling forward slightly. "That means I can have an extra set of eyes watching this little trouble maker!"
"I don't need people to watch me, you old hag!" Bakugo yelled back at their mother, regaining their footing.
Mitsuki ignored her fuming child and continued to speak with Midoryia. "So, where are you planning on attending school now? There are a few highschools around here."
"I don't really remember the name but we went and toured it before we moved in. I'm transferring into class 1-A." Midoriya said casually, "It's near the little shopping district downto—"
"NO!" Bakugo shouted frantically. "NO! You can't go there!"
Midoriya tensed up with panic and turned to look at Bakugo. "Wh- Why not? Is it bad?"
"That's where I go you little shit! You can't go there!"
As Bakugo continued to yell at the boy standing in their front room, they were too preoccupied to pay attention to their phone that was sitting abandoned on the couch. The phone vibrated once as the screen lit up revealing a single notification.
A text notification for a contact under the name: Shitty Hair.
"Hey. I was wondering if you planned on going to that dance at the end of the cultural festival."
