Author's Note: After this chapter, I'll probably be updating weekly (rather than more frequently and without schedule).

I love to talk about writing, so please feel free to reach out to me! Thank you to everyone who reads this!

Todoroki wondered that morning whether it was time for him to move on.

He kept the thought to himself. It wouldn't do to leave impetuously: there might be no coming back. It wasn't that he disliked staying in the village, because he didn't. He had so far enjoyed it quite a lot, this freedom and quiet like he'd never known. The fear of pursuit was still there, but it was dampened, a distant fear that troubled him only sometimes.

No, he wondered if he should move on because Midoriya was no longer alone. That was why Midoriya had begged him to stay, of course. The solitude he'd had was the type no one should have to endure, and Todoroki knew his own company was better than that. But Midoriya was no longer alone. Was Todoroki's presence still a comfort, or was it now more of a burden?

Midoriya was unfailingly polite: he prepared all the meals and offered his bed to Todoroki without complaint, slept on the floor and pretended it didn't bother him. If Midoriya wanted him gone, Todoroki would never know, thanks to that sheer, overwhelming politeness.

On the morning after Kirishima and Bakugou arrived, he decided to keep a particular eye on Midoriya, trying to ascertain how he really felt. If I get the feeling he really doesn't want me here, I'll leave, Todoroki told himself. His own feelings didn't matter as much. If he was a burden, it was important to know when to move on.

…Except the thought of leaving Kirishima behind and never finding out what in the world he'd been talking about sounded awful, too. Todoroki added on another part to his mental note: he would allow himself to stay at least until Kirishima figured out what he was (provided it was still safe in the village and Midoriya wasn't directly asking him to get out).

There was an annoying voice in the back of Todoroki's head that told him he was making excuses to stay, but, at least for now, the voice was small enough to ignore.

xxxxxx

Midoriya had been the last one to wake that morning, but as soon as he did, he scrambled to his feet and started on breakfast. He seemed tired, Todoroki thought, but his smile never left his face.

As they were eating together, Kirishima suddenly smiled out of the blue and announced, "I thought today I would give a demonstration." He shot them all a playful look and paused, apparently waiting for someone to prompt him to explain.

"What are you talking about?" Bakugou said, sounding irritated.

If his lack of enthusiasm fazed Kirishima, the boy didn't let it show. "I told Midoriya I would transform for him today." To Todoroki he added: "You can watch too, if you want."

Bakugou's face changed from sleepy annoyance to something downright venomous. "You told Deku you were a selkie? Why did you tell him?"

Now at last Kirishima seemed surprised by Bakugou's unenthusiastic reaction to the idea. "You know him, Bakugou," he said. "You grew up with him! Why shouldn't I trust him?"

Bakugou sighed and fidgeted in his seat, his gaze sliding from Midoriya to Todoroki and back again. "Never mind."

Todoroki could tell there was something Bakugou wanted to say to Kirishima alone. Kirishima himself, though, seemed oblivious. He shot Bakugou one more confused look before turning back to the others.

"Anyways, I can show you this morning, or whatever time works best for you."

"Anytime," Midoriya said. "Whenever you want."

"Now?" Kirishima said, smiling and getting to his feet.

Todoroki followed them outside. Bakugou did too, wrapping his arms across his chest like he was cold. When there were only two people in the village, everything had felt so empty and abandoned, but now, with four, it seemed so much livelier and louder. And more tense.

When they got to the riverbank, Kirishima stripped his clothes off, tossing them haphazardly onto the grass, until the sealskin was the only garment on his body, worn over his shoulders like a cape. He hadn't worn any shoes, Todoroki noticed. He knelt down, seemingly unbothered by the cold, and – more quickly than Todoroki's eye could trace – he became a seal. It surprised Todoroki to see, even though he'd known what would happen: the speed and fluidity of it took his breath away. Suddenly ungainly on land, Kirishima gave a few hops and tumbled into the river, where he began to swim.

"Wow!" Midoriya said, dropping to his knees to peer closely into the water. "It was so fast! The transformation seems to happen all at once…" He muttered a stream of sentences about Kirishima, speaking so fast Todoroki couldn't follow all the words. His eyes, huge and green, followed Kirishima as he swam in lazy circles, back and forth so he always stayed within view of them. Todoroki thought the selkie's transformation had been interesting, but the really entrancing thing was Midoriya's reaction to it: his obvious fascination, how he seemed to forget there was anything in the world besides himself and Kirishima.

Bakugou noticed, too. He watched Midoriya with a sour look on his face, and Todoroki expected him to make some comment, to laugh or jeer. But Bakugou only looked on, silent, through narrowed eyes, standing off to one side. Just as Midoriya seemed loath to take his eyes off Kirishima, Bakugou did not shift his gaze from Midoriya.

And Todoroki watched them all. He saw the way Bakugou stared at Midoriya, not so different from the way a hawk might stare at a mouse, and thought: Maybe I should stay here after all.

After only a minute or so, Kirishima turned human again and pulled himself, sopping wet, onto the riverbank. "Your turn," he said to Bakugou, showing all of his strange sharp teeth as he grinned.

"I'm not going to swim, idiot," Bakugou said. "It's fucking cold out here."

"Wimp," Kirishima said, stepping closer and dripping on him. "So sensitive! No, I don't mean swim. I mean – catch us lunch."

A strange look passed over Bakugou's face – surprise? embarrassment? – but flicked away in a moment, replaced by his typical annoyance. "Don't feel like it now. Maybe later."

Midoriya was staring at them in confusion, and Todoroki was tempted to ask what they were talking about, but was content to sit back and watch the discussion. "Midoriya's given us two meals now," Kirishima said. "He shared his house. We owe him something, don't we?"

Bakugou's face turned bright red, and he stuttered something that Todoroki couldn't make out. Are they talking about going fishing? Todoroki thought, and at nearly the same instance Midoriya, clearly understanding enough of the argument to get this gist, said, "Kirishima, you don't owe us anything. Bakugou, you don't need to…"

"Catch them your damn self," Bakugou said, ignoring Midoriya entirely.

Kirishima smirked. "They'd have bite marks in them. And you know it's easier for you."

Midoriya was saying something about this not being the right time of day to catch fish when Bakugou interrupted him again. "Not in front of them," he said, his voice half grumble, half whine.

"Now, or I'll pull you in," Kirishima said, voice playful. He made no move towards Bakugou, though. Todoroki was fascinated: it was the tone and the triumphant facial expression, of someone who knew they'd won, but Todoroki had no idea what the battle even was about.

"Fuck you," Bakugou said, but he took off his shoes and sat down on the riverbank, careful to avoid the grass that Kirishima had dripped on.

Todoroki snuck a glance at Midoriya, who was clearly just as baffled at Todoroki himself. The whole scene was bizarre and awkward, just as uncomfortable as witnessing strangers arguing. If the topic hadn't been so strange Todoroki would have already left, but he was deeply intrigued at the same time, wondering what Bakugou so badly did not want to show them.

"It's cold," Bakugou said. "I'm going numb."

"Isn't that good?" Todoroki said, but under his breath, so no one else could hear.

"Here they come!" Kirishima said, jumping back into the water still in his human form and grabbing a fish. He tossed it onto the bank and grabbed another. And a third.

"What in the world…" Midoriya said, his eyes gone huge again.

"The fish love Bakugou," Kirishima said, tossing a fourth fish onto the shore and then pulling himself out. Bakugou took his feet out of the water too. The entire process had taken less than a minute. "They love him."

Todoroki did not know what to say. He watched as Kirishima helped Bakugou to his feet, then together they gathered up the clothes and the fish that lay on the grass. The fish writhed in Kirishima's hands, but not in Bakugou's.

"What is this?" Midoriya asked. He seemed too stunned to move.

"I told you," Kirishima said, grinning like he himself was proud. Bakugou still looked put-out, but wasn't as mad as Todoroki had expected him to be.

"I know, but…" Midoriya made a frustrated noise and gestured to the fish.

"Look, I don't fucking know either," Bakugou said. "All of a sudden this started happening."

Todoroki had to admire the casualness with which he said those words, as if "this" referred to an unexpected rain or running into an old friend, not fish desperately swimming towards him, practically begging to die. "How long since this began?" he asked Bakugou.

"Since I reached the ocean," he said. "I mean, maybe longer, but I can't remember. That's when I noticed it for the first time. I don't remember if it was always this way or not."

"It was not always this way," Midoriya said, laughing a little with disbelief. "Remember us playing in the river as kids? Don't you think you or I would have noticed if fish started bumping up against you?"

"Yeah," Bakugou said. "Right. Yeah."

There was a silence that fell over them, which lasted until they'd reached Midoriya's house again. Todoroki wondered if Bakugou hated the other boy so much that he didn't even like being reminded they'd ever been friends.

Todoroki pulled Midoriya aside just before they were to enter the house. "Let me help you today," he said, his voice quiet. Kirishima and Bakugou had already entered before them, bringing the now-dead fish inside. They would come back out in a moment, Todoroki knew.

"Help me?"

"With – whatever you do. Sheep or crops or whatever."

"Thank you, but I'm fine. I can do it myself."

"I know you can do it yourself," Todoroki said. "But I want to help you." Even if the idea of manual labor sounded awful, he did want to help Midoriya, so he tried to look as earnest as he could. "Please."

"Alright," Midoriya said, smiling, and Todoroki had the strange sensation of being both relieved and disappointed at the same time. "Thank you."

xxxxxx

xxxxxx

"That trick you pulled," Bakugou said, as soon as they were alone.

Kirishima resisted the urge to play innocent. There was a bit of an edge in Bakugou's voice, a tone that was unfamiliar to him. "What about it?"

"I didn't appreciate it!"

They'd dropped off the fish and left without a word to the others. Bakugou lead them northwest, not seeming to follow any path, just meandering, maybe heading towards the river but in a more roundabout way. He made twice as much noise as he needed while walking, and every time he saw something on the ground – a stick, a rock, an unsuspecting plant – he kicked it full-force away from himself.

Yeah, Kirishima thought, he's definitely mad. "You don't think it was fair? Midoriya let us sleep in his house and prepared us food. You don't want to owe him, do you?"

Bakugou stopped walking and narrowed his eyes at Kirishima, baring his teeth in what might look like a smile, if Kirishima didn't know better. "Of course I don't – it isn't that!"

"What is it then?"

But Bakugou was incensed beyond words, and could only shake his head. Wondering whether he'd gone too far, Kirishima stepped closer, so they were almost-but-not-quite touching. "What is it?" he said again, his voice gentler this time. "I'm sorry, I thought…"

"It's fine," Bakugou said, a little less angrily than before. Kirishima's close proximity had soothed him.

"They'd probably find out sooner or later," Kirishima said. "I think it's better to have these things out in the open. I don't want to have to lie to Todoroki and Midoriya. I want all of us to be friends."

Something about that last sentence made Bakugou jerk his head up to look Kirishima straight in the eye, yet Kirishima had no idea what about it had caused that reaction. "You still don't trust Todoroki?" he said, knowing he was probably wrong – simple distrust of a stranger probably wouldn't cause that near-violent reaction – but feeling that an incorrect guess might still get Bakugou to talk.

He shook his head. "I don't trust him, but, I mean…"

"It isn't that?" Kirishima said. "Then tell me."

It was hard – having this person, his person, so close, yet not knowing what he was thinking. Kirishima wanted to be able to crawl into Bakugou's brain and poke around, to see what was fueling his anger. He knew there was so much roiling just beneath the surface, but somewhere between Bakugou's brain and Bakugou's mouth there was a dam that held everything back.

Bakugou seemed to be able to answer simple questions, though, so at least Kirishima could chip away at him, and maybe find out more than he otherwise could. "Is it something else to do with Todoroki?"

Bakugou shook his head. "So," Kirishima ventured, "it's something to do with Midoriya."

A pause, then Bakugou nodded, looking away.

Kirishima thought back to that morning – Bakugou's hesitation, his anger. Kirishima hadn't gotten a good look at his face, but from what he had seen, Bakugou had been blushing. "You were embarrassed?" he said, voice gentle, one hand reaching out slowly to rest, unsure, on Bakugou's forearm.

"No. What the fuck," Bakugou said, too quickly.

Kirishima found himself smiling, but pushed the expression off his face as fast as he could. Bakugou wasn't meeting his eyes, but Kirishima didn't want him to see the expression and think he was being mocked. It was just that Kirishima was proud of himself, proud that he knew Bakugou well enough to be able to tell what was a lie and what was the truth. And that had been a lie.

Kirishima made a little hum of acknowledgement but said nothing for a moment, thinking. Bakugou had been upset that Kirishima had told Midoriya he was a selkie and embarrassed to go in the river in front of the others – what did those things mean?

Kirishima tried the tactic of putting himself in Bakugou's place, hoping it would give him more insight. How would I feel if I returned to a close friend after being apart for weeks, a friend I thought might be dead? And there was a stranger there, along with someone I didn't know as well…?

Kirishima felt suddenly sad as he realized he was treading where he should not be. "I'm sorry," he said, taking his arm off of Bakugou's. "I should give you more space, shouldn't I?"

"Hah?"

Kirishima did laugh a little then, that noise of Bakugou's so familiar to him by now it made his heart ache. "You and Midoriya," he said. "You probably want more time with him, don't you?"

He snuck a glance at Bakugou – and was startled to see he was staring at Kirishima open-mouthed, looking truly surprised. "What?" Bakugou said. "What are you talking about?"

"You – Midoriya," Kirishima said, suddenly feeling a lot less sure. "You thought he was dead, you didn't see him for a long time, and now you haven't gotten a chance to talk with him one on one because of me. I know you must have missed him…"

"Kirishima," Bakugou said, cutting him off, "what – you're – stop, listen to me!" He inhaled deeply. "I didn't miss Deku." That nickname again, thought Kirishima.

"You didn't?"

"Of course not!" He pounded a fist into the palm of the other hand. "I wish someone else had lived, anyone else! Why did it have to be him?"

This… this was not what Kirishima had been expecting.

"Damn idiot can't even tell me…" With a start Kirishima realized the other boy was near tears. "He can't even tell me if my parents are alive or not! I just wish I knew, one way or another!" He met Kirishima's eyes, his swimming with tears. "I hate him!"

"Oh." Kirishima felt stupid for the assumptions he'd made, and hated himself a little for the twinge of what could only be relief. "But the nickname…"

"What?"

"He has a nickname that only you use," Kirishima said. "A nickname you gave him!"

"It's an insult," Bakugou said. "It's not – you really thought…?" He laughed aloud, laughed despite the tears on his cheeks. "Oh, God, Kirishima, I can't believe you thought he was special to me. No, no, not at all. Exactly the opposite."

The sour feeling of jealousy had drained completely out of Kirishima now, leaving him oddly hollow. He swallowed numbly, watching Bakugou, wanting to understand. "What did he do to make you hate him?" The gleam in Bakugou's eyes was ugly, harsh, like nothing Kirishima had ever seen in them before. "He must have done something awful."

"Nah," Bakugou said, so casual about the entire thing it made Kirishima ill. "Not really. He was just annoying. Followed me everywhere. Always copied me, like he wanted to be me. I hated that. Like having some stupid baby brother, except we're not actually related. God, fuck that guy."

He stopped, looking sharply at Kirishima's face. Kirishima didn't know what expression he had, but he knew what he was feeling: pity for Midoriya, and, for Bakugou, something very close to disgust.

"He isn't that bad," Kirishima said, thinking of the boy's earnestness. Yes, he could see Midoriya as a follower, a little brother type, full of admiration and a desire to be friends. It might be annoying at worst, but for Bakugou to say he hated him, and mean it?

"He is that bad!" Bakugou said, laughing.

"He isn't!" Kirishima made up his mind at that moment – he liked Midoriya, liked him and wanted to get to know him better. Most of what had held him back before was that misaimed jealousy, and now that it was gone he felt nothing but sympathy for him. "You're cruel."

Bakugou's smile faded a little, but not entirely. Kirishima decided he'd had enough. He stripped off his clothes, leaving them on the ground where they fell, and ran to the edge of the river.

"Kirishima –"

"What!" he said, naked now except his sealskin. "What do you want!"

"I never said I hated you, idiot," Bakugou said, as near to tender as Bakugou's voice could be.

"I know," Kirishima said. "It doesn't matter." He blinked and inhaled sharply, feeling tears, of all things. He didn't cry often, didn't know why this was making him cry or why he cared so much to begin with.

"So stop overreacting," Bakugou said, his voice slow, but Kirishima thought there was some underlying urgency in it – the laziness was just an act. "You don't need to go anywhere. Why are you running away?"

"I'm not running away!"

He was running away, he knew, but he also knew that if he stayed in his human form, he wouldn't be able to be alone, and at that moment he needed solitude. Having Bakugou nearby made him more emotional, it seemed – for good and for bad. Kirishima needed to be alone to feel like himself again.

"Kirishima," Bakugou said again, the smile entirely gone. "What are you…"

"I'll be back," Kirishima said, not knowing whether he meant it or not. He dove into the river, turning into his seal form in the air, and let the current take him away from the village and from Bakugou.