*Setting: Between the Hassaikai arc and School Festival. This fic contains spoilers related to the original plotline.*
A/N: Yellowchikadee here! For old time fans, I'm back and still adamantly working on the sequel to OSD. For new readers interested in BNHA, I hope you enjoy this lighthearted Kirishima fluff! I don't know about you, but I needed a break from all the heavy and dark stuff going on in the world. My solution? To write this short fic!
I will publish four chapters, one per week on Monday. The fic is all finished, so just sit back and wait for updates!
Shout-out to a fellow fic writer and friend of mine xSteleAlinax! One of her characters has a small cameo in the story. If you're interested in her Bakugo/OC fic, check out "In Denial" on her page.
Enjoy!
How to Talk to a Girl
The common area was full of students. Some of the girls were playing a board game at the table and the boys were lounging on the couch, watching tv.
Eijiro Kirishima sat on the couch, hair still wet from his shower, and chin rested on his palm as he gazed fixedly on a point beyond the sports broadcast.
"...tutoring?" Kaminari's voice said to his right.
"...earth… Kirishima." Sero said in the distance.
"Hey!" Fingers snapped in front of Eijiro's face. "Kirishima! We're talking to you, dude!" Kaminari waved his hand. "Geez, you're not usually the spacey type."
Eijiro leaned back and blinked at his friends. He scratched his head then let out an awkward laugh. "S-Sorry! What's up?"
"I guess that answers my question," Kaminari laughed. "I wanted to know how tutoring went, but based on your dumb expression, I can tell that it sucked."
"No kidding," Sero laughed. He gave a sly look at the blond. "You looked almost as dumb as Kaminari after a few thousand volts."
The tape hero's face was met with a pillow. "Shut up, Sero!"
Those of Class 1-A who had selected to take on work studies had been warned of the possibility that they might fall behind in their schoolwork. Of course, that hadn't stopped Eijiro, Midoriya, or the others from jumping on the opportunity to do real hero work.
But with stress about the Hassaikai rescue mission and the fallout from it, some of the work study students were definitely feeling the drag. Eijiro's grades were average before the work study. After he started working for Fat Gum's agency, they had started to drop. He'd endured a harsh talking to by Mr. Aizawa, during which it had been strongly suggested that he attend tutoring on his free afternoons, in addition to the extra classes he already had to take with the others.
"It was fine," Eijiro said, with a shrug. "I ended up with a really good tutor, so I'm gonna be caught up to everyone in no time!"
"No rush," Sero grinned. "At this rate, me and Kaminari will pass you, then you'll have the worst grades in class!"
Katsuki Bakugo was sitting at the far end of the couch, his eyebrow twitching as he tried to watch tv with all the noise. He gritted his teeth in irritation before finally snapping. "SHUT UP OR MOVE."
"Hey man," Eijiro held up his hands in a placating gesture. "You're not still mad at me for turning down your offer to tutor me, right? No offense, but it wasn't very effective last time." He could still remember Katsuki smacking him repeatedly with a rolled up magazine and issuing a slew of profanities.
"IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU'RE AN IDIOT!"
Eijiro laughed, then proceeded to attempt to calm down the wild beast. His efforts were interrupted, however, when Ashido smoothly slid her elbows onto the back of the couch and leaned forward to look at him. Her dark eyes were glittering and wide, pink face adorned with an expression that could only be described as conspiratorial.
"Heeeeey, Kirishima~" she sang. "So, when ya gonna spill?"
He blinked at her, only then realizing that she was backed by a few of the other girls. "Spill what?" he asked, while giggles erupted behind her.
"A little bird told me," she started, walking her fingers along the back of the couch until she was close enough to poke his cheek, "that you were huddled up with a second-year girl after school~"
The reactions in the room were instantaneous. Katsuki groaned, as if the topic change had immediately soured any desire he had to be present. Kaminari and Sero's eyes went wide and they started to shake Eijiro between them. The girls' giggling intensified, and Ururaka cheeks turned bright pink. And, faster than any other movement in the common room, Mineta was instantly right next to Eijro, trembling violently and drooling.
"An upperclassman, eh?" the imp asked. "Or should I say "upperclasswoman? Is she busty? Blonde? Single and ready to mingle in bed?"
He was silenced by Su's tongue around his throat.
"It's not like that!" Eijiro pushed the boys away. "She's my tutor! We were 'huddled' in the hall or whatever because she was showing me what to work on next in math class!"
"Aw man…" Ashido frowned. "That's not the juicy gossip I was hoping for."
"Nope, no gossip." He tried to put as much distance between himself and the rest of the crowd as possible without falling off the couch. "It's totally innocent."
Mineta somehow managed to scoff at this even whilst being choked.
"You're a teenage boy, Kirishima," Kaminari said. "It's never totally innocent."
"Aha!" Hagakure pointed at him, and the only way he knew this was because she was wearing a bracelet that jangled in the air as she gestured at him. "He's blushing!"
"I-I am not!" He furiously hid his face behind his hair. "I already told you it's not like that!"
"Guys, just leave him alone," Uraraka said, coming to his aid. "It's super embarrassing for people to talk about their crushes." The blush on her cheeks indicated she knew from experience.
"It's not a crush, okay?!" His temples pulsed and cheeks burned.
"Come to think of it," Su cocked her head in thought and finally released Mineta. "We haven't met many second-year students. But it makes sense that the tutors would be from higher grades."
"What's her name, Kirishima?" Ashido asked.
He wasn't inclined to answer her at first, but most of the deviousness seemed to have faded from her eyes, replaced with genuine curiosity.
"It's… um… Kinuhana Kanzashi."
"Kanzashi?" Sero asked. "Like the old fashion hairpins?"
"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged.
"What's her quirk?" Hagakure asked.
"I don't know, we weren't doing hero stuff, just homework."
"You like this girl and you don't even know what her quirk is?" Kaminari asked.
"I said it's not like that!"
"SHUT THE HELL UP YOU LOSERS!" Katsuki snapped, officially fed up with the conversation. He jerked to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets, and jutted his chin toward Eijiro. "Hey, Kirishima. Didn't you leave your window open in your room? Go fix that it before mosquitoes get in the dorm."
"My window…" Eijiro blinked. He knew he didn't leave his window open, but the look on Katsuki's face told him that if he didn't do as he was told, he'd be 'murdered.' Then, he understood, and couldn't help the smile that touched his cheeks. "Oh right! I'll fix it!" He stood up as well and started to follow his friend into the hall.
"Aw, but you didn't finish telling us about Kanzashi," Ashido whined.
"Sorry, nothing to tell!" He gave a brief wave before slipping quickly down the hall until he was next to Katsuki. "Hey, Kats—I mean Bakugo. Thanks for helping me out there! Those girls can be vicious!"
"I don't care if you use my name," he barked. "Just don't wear it out or make up some dumb nickname like Deku."
"Which reminds me!" Eijiro said with a grin. "Why do you let Midoriya call you Kacchan anyway? I've never heard you correct him."
"WHAT IS THIS, TWENTY QUESTIONS?! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"Just curious, man, no need to get so worked up!" He laughed.
"Hey." Katsuki stopped in front of his own dorm room and met Eijiro's eyes, which was a rare thing for him to do. His expression was serious. "You don't have to answer their questions either."
With these final words, he stepped into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.
Eijiro stood there for a long moment, a smile set on his lips. "Heh… thanks Katsuki." The guy might have been an explosive hot head, but… he was a good friend too.
"Hurry up, Hana, we're going to watch the boys in the gym!"
Two girls waved frantically from the front of the classroom, bags slung over their shoulders and a gleam in their eyes. The girl they were beckoning was at the back of the class, still trying to squeeze text books into her backpack.
"Kanzashi won't be joining you," their home room teacher said, in a voice that was uncharacteristically sharp for the walking space-suit of a woman.
The Support Class for second-years at U.A. High was taught by Pro-Hero 13. Of all the pros at the school, she was by far the most soft-spoken and understanding. Outsiders might even look at her and think that she was too soft, a pushover easily taken advantage of by her wild array of students. But those people had clearly never sat through one of her lectures, nor felt the burdening shame of disappointing her. Somehow, even without moving facial expressions and with empty eyes, the hero had a way of looking at someone that would cut them straight to the core.
"Aw, come on Ms. Thirteen, haven't you punished her enough already?" One of the girls, exceptionally short and eight-eyed, asked with a pout.
"It's not punishment. Now go, before I make you join her."
The girls squealed before darting out the door.
Hana withheld a tired sigh as she finally slid her backpack on and pulled her braid over her shoulder. She made her way toward the front of the class, but stopped dead in her tracks when she felt 13 staring at her.
"Ms. Thirteen?" she asked, knowing better than to walk through the door now.
"How is tutoring going?" the teacher asked.
"It's great," Hana said with a smile. But even as she did so, a strand of her braided blonde hair turned bright red. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh.
"I can see you're still angry at Class 1-A."
Hana looked at the chalkboard, unable to keep eye contact with those vast, white eyes.
"I'm not angry, I just… I was so excited to do my work study with Best Jeanist. I'd been waiting for that for over a year, just for work studies to be canceled because of that hero course." She couldn't help the bitterness in her tone, nor the way a second strand of hair turned black, interlacing with the red.
"Kanzashi..."
"And the dorms?" She continued. "My parents fought so much about keeping me in school after that, that… my mom still hasn't come home." Another strand of red. Her whole head was starting to change color. "That's all because of Class 1-A."
13 let out a robotic sigh and leaned against her desk. "You know that those students didn't want any of that to happen, right? They didn't ask to be attacked by villains or to watch a hero die."
Hana winced at the word. Everyone knew about Night Eye. But this memory only made her feel worse as she thought about someone else.
"Mirio…" she whispered. "He's another thing. Someone else who was affected by all of the stuff that hero course is wrapped up in." Now, a dark blue strand wound its way through her braid.
"Togata would have been with Night Eye's agency during the raid regardless of whether Class 1-A was involved. In fact, arguably, the combined effort of those young heroes prevented more lives from being lost."
Hana knew she was right, but still…
"That boy you're tutoring, Eijiro Kirishima. His hero name is Red Riot. He defended innocent people in a back alley, then took down one of the most powerful villains in the Hassaikai. He suffered broken bones and skin, just for you to hold him responsible for things beyond his control?"
Hana thought back to Kirishima. The overly enthusiastic bone-head who couldn't do quadratic equations. She sighed softly, and her hair colors faded back to blonde.
"Now," 13 said, uncrossing her arms. "I'm sure he's waiting for you in the study hall. Try to be a good representative of our class."
Hana gave a brief nod before finally leaving. She played idly with her braid as she walked, contemplating the lecture she'd just received. "Class 1-A," she muttered. The last thing she wanted to do was to spend her afternoons tutoring a boy who couldn't even keep up with his extra classes, but… "I'll try to be open minded for you, Thirteen."
Eijiro tapped his pencil repeatedly on his textbook, eyes flicking back and forth from the paper to the door. For the third time, Snipe passed by his table and rapped his knuckles on the wood.
"You here to study or slack off?" he said through his mask.
"S-Sorry, Sir, I'm just-"
"Waiting for your tutor, yeah I know. But there are other second and third years in the program. Let me grab one of 'em and you can—"
"No!" Eijiro's voice was so loud that a few students stopped what they were doing to glance over at him. "I mean… it's no big deal, really. I'm sure she'll be here any second."
Snipe let out a sigh, but then shrugged. "It's your grades on the line here, kid."
Eijiro nodded, then slouched back down in his seat. He couldn't stop thinking about what his classmates had said. How they had all hounded and teased him about tutoring yesterday.
It's never totally innocent.
He put his face in his hands and groaned. It's not like that. He couldn't have a crush on her, he didn't even know her. They'd only tutored together twice. Then again, what did he know about having a crush anyway? He'd never liked someone before. It just wasn't something he thought about. Ashido was cool and pretty and funny, and he definitely admired her, but they were just friends. Kanzashi wasn't even his friend let alone crush or whatever.
He leaned back in his seat and let out a laugh. "Look at me, letting Kaminari get into my head. What am I thinking?"
"You don't look like you're studying," a quiet voice said from behind him.
He jumped to his feet so fast that he knocked his chair over in the haste. His eyes instantly landed on her. The girl with long braided hair and silver eyes.
"Kanzashi!" he said. "You're here!"
She gave a small smile. "Of course. I'm your tutor after all."
He grinned at these words, feeling suddenly like there couldn't possibly be a better tutor in all of U.A.
"Hey!" He blinked at her. "Did you dye your hair? There were more colors in it yesterday, but it's all blonde now."
She ran her hands over the length of the braid and broke eye contact with him. "I didn't dye it. This is my natural color."
"Oh, so you had highlights in it yesterday?" He asked.
"No, I…."
"It's cool if you did! I won't judge you for it or anything. You know, red's not my actual hair color." He wasn't sure why he felt the need to tell her this. No one in U.A. knew about that except for Ashido.
"I already knew that," she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. "Black, right?"
"Wha—How did you know?!"
She brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. "I'm really good with hair."
"Really? Is that part of your quirk?" He felt his heart pounding in his chest and the same surge of adrenaline he always felt before a training match, which didn't make any sense. Was he that excited just to learn new stuff about her?
"Maybe," she shrugged. "Or maybe it's because some of us know what hair dye smells like."
He gave a boisterous laugh. Much too loud for the study hall. "What is your quirk, Kanzashi?" he asked.
She raised an eyebrow, then slung her backpack over one of the chairs. "I think it's time to study, Kirishima."
"Oh," he laughed, "right." He righted his chair and took a seat.
She scooted her chair closer to him before sitting down as well. Was it just his imagination, or was her chair even closer than it was yesterday?
"How are you feeling about what we did yesterday?" She asked, as she took out her training materials.
"What we… did?" For a moment, he couldn't make sense of her words, and they stirred something weird in his stomach.
"Lesson 11?" she asked, giving him a puzzled look.
"Oh, haha, right! I think I understand it better now. I did some practice questions while I was waiting for you, so you can tell me if I got them right."
And so, their study session began. She corrected the questions he got wrong, tried to re-explain them, and then went on to trickier subjects. They were about forty-five minutes in when she put her pencil down and sighed.
"Kirishima, you're much more distracted today than during our other sessions. Is something bothering you?"
"What? No, I'm good."
But was he? It was so hard to focus this time. Kanzashi was so close that he could almost feel her arm next to his, and he could smell her lotion or perfume or whatever it was that girls doused themselves with. And he had to keep pinching his leg to stop himself from talking to her and asking the million questions he had.
Is she busty? Blonde? Single and ready to mingle?
He felt his cheeks heating up.
Kanzashi shut the textbook in front of her. "I think we should stop early today. You need some rest."
"Kanzashi, will you please tell me what your quirk is?" he asked suddenly. "I've been curious this whole time."
She looked at him in surprise. "You can't study because you're still thinking about my quirk?"
"You just seem really cool, so I bet your quirk is something amazing!"
Her cheeks took some color. In fact… her hair took color too. He knew he wasn't imagining it. Some of her braid was now woven with pink.
"It's… not that great," she said shyly. "I'm in the support class, you know. I don't have some awesome heroic quirk."
"Hey, I used to think my quirk wasn't that special either! All I do is get hard!"
His statement hung in the air for an awkward moment, and he noted with horror that her hair turned even pinker.
"My skin, I mean," he said quickly. "See?" He held up his arm and activated his quirk. She looked curiously at the rigid texture of his skin.
"I already knew that," she said, and again she covered her mouth to mask a quiet laugh. "I watched the sports festival, dummy. "And I've heard all about the famous Red Riot."
He blushed and cleared his throat. "I'm just saying, your quirk can't be any lamer than mine."
She dropped her hand away from her mouth, then held it tentatively above his arm. "Can I…?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
She carefully ran her fingers along the hardened skin, eyes widening as she did so. And for the first time in his entire life, he wished he could actually feel things on his toughened skin.
"Weird." She rapped her knuckles on his arm and winced. "It's so hard that it's almost sharp."
"Yup. So? Can you tell me what your quirk is?"
She considered him for a long moment. "I don't know…" He noticed a thin strand of black wrap around the pink and her frown deepened.
"Please?" he begged.
"Why are you so stubborn?" she asked.
"It's kind of my schtick," he grinned. "Plus, I already told you, I think you're cool."
The black disappeared, to be replaced with more pink.
"Does your hair change color based on certain words or something?"
She started to pack up her books, then hesitated. "...My quirk is called Hair Thread. I can make articles of clothing from my hair by cutting it. It grows way faster than normal hair, and it changes colors based on…" she met his eyes, and both her cheeks and hair turned rosy pink. "...it just changes colors," she corrected.
"Whoa, seriously?! You can make any article of clothing from your hair?!"
"Well… I have to visualize it first, and it has to be fabric, not metal or anything like that. But yeah, I can make virtually any kind of fabric."
"That's awesome, Kanzashi! Can you show me?"
Even the hair above her braid was turning bright pink now. She glanced up and caught Snipe staring at them with his arms crossed and fingers tapping in annoyance.
"Okay…" she said. "But not here. This is a study hall, not a place to show off quirks."
As far as Eijiro was concerned, she could take him anywhere and he'd be happy.
He shoved his papers in his bag and followed her out into the hallway. She led him all the way outside of the building, to where they would normally part ways to go to their separate dorms. Then, she sat her backpack on the ground and took the hair tie off the end of her braid.
"What should I make?" she asked.
"Um… how about… a ribbon?"
She raised an eyebrow. "A ribbon? But that's so easy."
"Come on, show me!"
She covered her mouth to laugh, then gave a brisk nod. "In that case…" she plucked out a few strands of hair, held them up, and he watched in awe as they combined and transformed before his eyes. It was a lot like Yaoyorozu's creation magic, giving off the same strange light as a new object was formed. In only a moment, she was dangling a long, silk pink ribbon in the breeze, with an intricate flower design printed onto it. "I made it more of a challenge for myself with the pattern, since ribbons are so easy."
"That's seriously so cool," he cheered. "I bet you can do all sorts of things with that power!"
She shrugged, blushing slightly. "I… it turns out I can actually use other people's hair, too. I made Mirio… Lemillion's costume with his hair. I want to be able to support other heroes with my quirk, like Best Jeanist and his sidekicks. Actually… I'd love to be Best Jeanist's sidekick one day."
"So, you have a hero who inspires you, too." He thought fondly of Crimson Riot, and the hours he used to spend watching videos and reading books on the hero. "You'll for sure have your goal come true!"
She looked down at the pavement. "I was doing my work study with him, but…" the pink faded from her hair instantly, to be replaced with red and black. "The work studies were canceled." She said this with a strange look on her face as she gazed at him. He didn't know what it meant, or if she was trying to communicate something.
"Yeah, it seriously sucks. I kinda wished I could keep working with Fat Gum. I get it though."
"Seems like Class 1-A sort of causes problems for everyone, don't they?" She said this quietly, her hair getting darker as she spoke.
"More like villains cause problems for Class 1-A," he laughed. "I seriously thought I might die when I was up against Rappa."
She opened her mouth to respond, but his eyes caught on the ribbon she was still holding. "Hey! I have an idea!" He snatched it out of her hand suddenly.
"What are you—"
He wasn't sure what drove him. It was a power beyond him, emboldened by the pink hues of the setting sun or some other strange, foreign thing. He wasn't thinking straight. He just knew he had to do it.
He scooped up her braid and tied the ribbon around the end of it into a bow. Then watched in fascination as her hair turned pink to match the rosy color of the silk. He didn't let go right away either. Her hair is so soft.
"K-Kirishima!" She clutched her braid and took a step back. "You can't just touch a girl's hair without warning like that!"
"S-sorry, it's just…" He looked her over, feeling a strange tightness in his chest. "I thought it would look pretty."
She didn't say anything. Her fingers played with the tails of the bow for a long moment. She opened her mouth to speak, then frowned. "You shouldn't be so nice to me. I've been holding a grudge against your class for a long time."
"That's not surprising, though. That's why our class is going to do something totally awesome for the school festival, to make you guys feel better about all the stress we've put you through. I'm not mad that you feel that way. Besides, it doesn't mean we can't be friends, right?"
She blinked, and her eyelashes fluttered in a way that made him feel all sorts of weird inside.
"Kirishima… I—"
"Hana!" A new voice interrupted them. A girl was waving from the corner of the building. "Come on! You're gonna miss dinner!"
"I'm coming!" She stooped down to pick her backpack up, and adjusted her braid to put it on. She reached to untie the ribbon in her hair, but paused. Instead, she turned her hand to wave at him. "See you tomorrow?"
He thought his chest might explode. "Yeah! See you tomorrow!"
With this, she turned, hair reverting back to blonde. Then, she skipped away toward her friend, and he watched her go.
You like this girl and you don't even know what her quirk is? He remembered Kaminari's words from before.
He didn't know anything about liking someone, but… he did know what her quirk was now. And for some reason, this knowledge made pride swell in his chest alongside all of the other new feelings.
"I better get back before everyone starts coming up with stories about me," he groaned.
Do I like her? How would I know? What would it matter? What would I do?
He wanted to ask someone who knew about this stuff. Someone with more experience than him. Someone who could tell him if he was just making stuff up in his head or if… or if what? He had to talk to someone…