Author's Note: I said I would update weekly, but here I am, 3 days later, just finished the chapter today and without any willpower to wait. So I guess we're still on a schedule of "I'll update when I have something to post".

It didn't exactly surprise Midoriya that Bakugou and Kirishima were gone all day. He knew they weren't gone for good because they'd left some things behind, so Midoriya didn't give much thought to where they might have wandered off to. It was better, he knew, to just let them be.

Bakugou was miserable, and Midoriya knew why. Midoriya was the reason why. He wished he'd made some effort to remember who had and hadn't died, but he'd been in a desperate place then, acting blindly, half mad with grief. He couldn't really blame his past self, could hardly even believe he had survived those first weeks. They felt so distant, like someone else's memories, or his from years and years ago.

Bakugou hated Midoriya under the best of circumstances. It was no wonder he wanted nothing to do with him now. Midoriya would have to find a better place for them to sleep sooner rather than later, if he wanted them to stay. Which he did. Mostly.

He definitely wanted Kirishima to stay, because Kirishima was interesting and exciting and cheerful and seemed like a good person. (A good selkie?) Midoriya wanted to get to know him better, partially because of his selkie-ness but mostly because he seemed nice and was kind to Midoriya. And it seemed like he was a package deal with Bakugou, so that meant, by extension, that Midoriya also wanted Bakugou to stay.

He could not say how he would have felt if Bakugou had returned alone. It didn't matter, of course, because Bakugou hadn't returned alone, but Midoriya still felt ashamed at the idea that he might've wished Bakugou gone – Bakugou, whose home this was as much as it was Midoriya's, who was certainly hurting as much as Midoriya was.

Because the fact remained: it was hard to live with someone who hated you.

xxxxxx

First things first, Midoriya found the house that was second least burned. It also had a bed, rather worse for wear from being left out in the elements. He fixed it up the best he could, washing the sheets, hanging them up to dry and adding some more stuffing to the mattress. If Kirishima and Bakugou didn't find it to their liking, they could always sleep on the floor; it hadn't seemed to bother them the night before. The important part was that they had their own place they could retreat to.

Todoroki helped him the entire day, doing whatever Midoriya asked without complaint. Together they cleaned out the house, rebuilt as much of the walls as they could and began to fix the roof. It wasn't in as good of shape as Midoriya's house had been before he'd started, but with two people the work went much faster. Provided it didn't rain, Bakugou and Kirishima would have their own place to sleep by evening.

At least dinner would be easy to prepare. Todoroki helped him debone the fish – Midoriya had to teach him from the ground up, but he was a quick learner – and soon the little house was full of the appetizing smell of it roasting. It was only after they were finished cooking that Midoriya realized he'd been premature in starting when he had, because Kirishima and Bakugou hadn't returned yet.

"There aren't that many places they can be," he said, speaking to himself as much as to Todoroki. The boy watched him, blank-faced and silent. "Unless they wandered off and got lost…" He shook his head. "No. Bakugou wouldn't have gotten lost. Kirishima maybe, but only if they separated. Maybe Kirishima wandered off and Bakugou is trying to find him? Or perhaps they just lost track of time…"

"Do you want me to go look for them?" Todoroki said.

Midoriya almost volunteered to do it himself, but realized that Bakugou would probably prefer to speak with the near-stranger over Midoriya. He tried to pretend that didn't sting. "Yeah, thanks," he said, turning away and pretending to make some adjustment to the settings on the table, because he knew his face was crumpled up with anger.

Todoroki wasn't gone long, but returned with only Bakugou in tow. Midoriya thought for a second that his prediction had come true, until Bakugou said, "Kirishima went for a swim. He'll be back later."

"He's skipping dinner?" Midoriya said. Only the day before Kirishima had complimented Midoriya's cooking and had eaten everything on his plate. "Do selkies eat less than humans?"

Bakugou shrugged and wouldn't say anything else about it, so they ate without Kirishima, no one speaking for the duration of the meal. Midoriya divided the extra food into thirds and split it amongst them, but Bakugou didn't eat his extra portion – in fact, he hardly ate any of his own. Clearly there was something going on beneath the surface that Midoriya wasn't aware of, but if he pried – if he even showed the slightest bit of interest in it – Bakugou would put up a wall, and Midoriya would never learn anything. It was better not to try, to pretend not to care.

"Todoroki and I cleared out a house for the two of you," Midoriya said after they were done eating, trying to sound cheerful and probably failing miserably. "I wanted you to have a place of your own, so things weren't so crowded tonight. There's a bed, too, so you don't have to sleep on the floor."

He expected – well, not gratitude, not if he was being honest with himself, but he expected something. A nod, an "alright". Not the blank stare he got. Bakugou wasn't even really looking at him – his eyes seemed almost unfocused, as if he was gazing at something beyond Midoriya.

"We've nearly finished," he went on, his smile growing broader in an attempt to get some kind of reaction, even as he felt himself turn cold with nerves. Why did Bakugou have this effect on him? From the way Midoriya reacted, you'd think he was eight feet tall. "You can sleep there tonight, unless it rains, but I don't think it's going to. Todoroki, do you think it's going to rain?"

Todoroki looked startled to be brought into the conversation, but after a second he shook his head. "I don't think so."

Midoriya thought Bakugou was going to ignore them again; he was quiet for a long time, but after a moment he let out a sigh. "Not tonight."

"What?" Midoriya said, unsure if he was talking about the chance of rain or something else.

"I don't think I'll sleep there tonight," Bakugou said. His voice didn't have the usual bite in it, and he looked down at his hands, which lay loosely in his lap. "I'll stay here one more night."

Midoriya had no idea what to say to that. He could only stare at Bakugou, who looked away. After maybe half a minute Todoroki stood, the loud scrape of his chair on the floor startling all of them. He walked towards the door, bumping Midoriya's shoulder on his way, and stepped outside. Midoriya, understanding the cue at once, followed.

"Todoroki," he began, but Todoroki shook his head.

"I don't know either. Just let him stay," Todoroki said.

"But we – why doesn't he –"

"Kirishima," Todoroki said.

"Huh?"

"He must not know where Kirishima is, or when he'll be back. Kirishima only knows your house. If Bakugou's staying in a different place and Kirishima returns in the middle of the night, he won't be able to find him and might think he left."

"Ohhh," Midoriya said, finally getting Todoroki's point. Then: "He doesn't know where Kirishima is?"

Todoroki shrugged. "I don't know. But if he did, I'd guess he'd be with him."

"Right." He thought about this for a moment. "Do you think Kirishima could be in trouble? Should we look for him?"

"If we did, I don't think we'd find him," Todoroki said. "Bakugou was sitting by the river. Probably Kirishima swam – somewhere."

"Oh…"

"I think Kirishima might have left," Todoroki said. "And Bakugou doesn't know if he's coming back or not. Or when to expect him."

Midoriya felt a stab of distress at the thought, but swallowed it down. His sadness wouldn't bring Kirishima back, and it was obvious the selkie's absence was affecting Bakugou even more strongly. "Thank you, Todoroki," Midoriya said.

Todoroki nodded, looking a little surprised at the gratitude, and they went back into the house together.

xxxxxx

xxxxxx

Todoroki was almost ashamed at how well-rested he felt after a night's sleep on the bed. His body felt no guilt that the others had to sleep on the floor. If he didn't want Midoriya to secretly start resenting him, he knew he would have to give the bed back at some point, but his back rejoiced that that point hadn't come yet.

He was the first to wake up. After a moment he sat up, looking down on the others. There were only two: Midoriya next to Todoroki's own bed and Bakugou further away, curled up next to the fireplace. Kirishima was still nowhere to be seen.

Maybe Todoroki rising had woken the others, because they both stirred where they lay and opened their eyes. Todoroki watched Bakugou spring up into a sitting position and look around the room, his face falling as he realized Kirishima hadn't returned yet. It wasn't a scowl or a look of annoyance – it was almost fear. He turned back towards the fireplace before Midoriya could see his face, and Todoroki felt as if he'd witnessed something he shouldn't have seen, something Bakugou wanted to keep secret from the world.

They ate breakfast in silence. After they'd finished eating, Todoroki watched as Bakugou left the house, then followed him out. He wasn't sure if Bakugou knew he was being followed or not, but if he did, he didn't seem to care.

Bakugou went to the river and sat down on the grass along the banks, leaning back on his arms with his legs crossed. He was not touching the water. After a minute of watching him, Todoroki approached and sat down too. Bakugou glanced at him, then looked immediately back towards the river, his gaze focused downstream.

They sat side by side in silence for some time. Todoroki knew what they were waiting for but was unsure if he'd ever come. Bakugou said nothing, so Todoroki didn't say anything either, content to listen to the sounds of the river and the birds and the wind in the grass.

After a few minutes Todoroki saw motion out of the corner of his eye: Bakugou taking off his shoes. He watched, wondering what the boy was doing, as he lowered his bare feet into the water, wincing as he did so.

Todoroki peered into the water. Just like the previous morning, the fish were flocking. They really did love Bakugou, swimming over one another to get to him. It did not look like they were biting him, just pressing themselves against him, caressing him.

"I've never seen anything like it," Todoroki said. "You really have no idea…?"

Bakugou shook his head.

"I suppose it could be a spell, or a curse," Todoroki said. A pause, then, to himself: "But what would the point be?"

Bakugou, wordless, continued to stare at the river. The fish were thick now. If Todoroki were to jump in, he wouldn't be able to swim in the area without touching them. "I didn't know there even were that many fish in this river."

"There's more in the ocean." Bakugou looked at him then, his eyes lit up with some memory Todoroki could only imagine. "You should have seen them."

After maybe ten minutes Bakugou took his feet out. The fish swarmed just as thickly for a few moments, but lost interest soon after. Soon they began to float, disoriented, drifting downstream as they stopped fighting the current.

As Todoroki followed their progress, he saw what at first he took to be a late-arriving school of fish – a dark shadow beneath the surface of the water. As it drew nearer Todoroki realized it wasn't caused by fish at all. It was the shape of a seal, as graceful and sleek as a bird of prey as it swam towards them.

Todoroki moved to nudge Bakugou, but he was already aware: he sat staring, rigid, his eyes wide. As they watched, Kirishima actually snagged a fish in the water, tearing it apart and swallowing it practically whole. His face was obscured in a cloud of blood, but only for a second, until the current swept it away.

Todoroki had begun to wonder if Kirishima was going to pass them by entirely, but finally he stopped swimming and stuck his head out of the water. His eyes were large and so dark no pupils were visible, and he had long whiskers like a dog. Todoroki only had a moment to look on the strange face before Kirishima transformed, and suddenly he was in front of them again, up to his shoulders in water.

Bakugou surged forward, stretching his arms out, and caught Kirishima's hands; he nearly tumbled into the river in his attempt to help the selkie out of it. But after one tense, unsure moment, the balance tipped in the other direction and Kirishima was pulled bodily onto the shore, half atop Bakugou, who was soaked. The sealskin covered them both, and Bakugou ran a hand over the surface of it, his fingertips as gentle as if he was touching a lover's skin.

The spell only lasted a moment; Kirishima struggled to his feet, and Bakugou and Todoroki followed a moment later. Todoroki noticed the other two standing a little distance apart, looking at each other as if they weren't sure of what to say, or didn't want to speak their minds around Todoroki. He felt, for the second time that day, like he was intruding on someone else's private life.

"Midoriya and I fixed up another house for you," Todoroki said. "So you don't have to share with us if you don't want to. It was getting a little crowded, he thought."

Kirishima blinked, surprised, maybe confused.

"Do you want me to show you?" Todoroki said, speaking to both of them now, since he remembered Bakugou hadn't seen the place yet, either.

"Sure," Kirishima said, smiling a little – and Todoroki realized he'd missed him, missed the way he made everything more relaxed just by being there.

Without another word Todoroki led them away from the river and back towards the village.

xxxxxx

xxxxxx

Kirishima ate dinner with the three humans and no one brought up his absence of the night before. Kirishima knew they were all just being polite, but he almost wanted Todoroki or Midoriya to ask where he'd been and why he'd left. He wanted to see Bakugou try to explain what their argument had been about. (How had he explained Kirishima being gone in the first place?)

But no, there was something unspoken, or at least unheard by Kirishima, that stopped them from discussing it as a group. They all treated each other very nicely, saying please and thank you, and Kirishima wanted to scream, Don't you all want to know where I was? Why I left? If he was in their place he would be dying to talk about it. He was dying to talk about it anyway.

After dinner he and Bakugou went to their own house – Kirishima first with Bakugou following behind. Kirishima went first to the fireplace and tried to light it, but after a few tries Bakugou, always better at it, stepped in to help.

After the fire was lit, Kirishima stood and turned to look at the house. They'd seen it earlier, of course, by day; now, lit only by firelight, it felt somehow larger, as if there might be unexplored places hiding in the shadows.

"You can have the bed," Kirishima said, since just like the other house there was only one. Bakugou shot him an irritated look, and Kirishima laughed. "What?"

"You can have it."

"No," Kirishima said in near disbelief. "I know you want it more than me."

"Then we'll alternate," Bakugou said, frowning.

"No, seriously…"

"We can share," Bakugou tried again, although from his tone he was skeptical of his own words.

"I would rather sleep on the floor," Kirishima said. "Please. Don't worry about it."

Bakugou sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, watching as Kirishima made a sort of nest in the blankets on the floor, like he'd done in the other house – similar to the way they'd dug out body-shaped divots of sand on the beach. He was aware Bakugou hadn't taken his eyes off of him the entire time they'd been in the house together, but Kirishima didn't let himself turn to look back until he was done. As soon as their eyes met, Bakugou looked down. Obvious, Kirishima thought, feeling stupidly fond of him.

He'd tried to be angry at Bakugou. No, he had been angry at him, and he still was – it was just that, confusingly, Kirishima felt the anger in him sitting side by side with affection and desire for closeness. He'd had no idea it was possible to hold such conflicting feelings towards a person at the same time and have them all be how he really felt.

Kirishima felt it was Bakugou's turn to speak – to apologize, to explain himself, something – but he also knew that Bakugou wasn't going to. If Kirishima wanted them to talk, he would have to begin, so he took a deep breath and spoke. "I didn't go too far," he said. "And I was already swimming back and I felt…"

Unsure of the word to use, he didn't finish the sentence, but Bakugou nodded. "I was hoping you would," he said.

He'd felt the pull. He'd only been in his seal form twice before when Bakugou had gone in the water, and both times he'd felt it then too, although he hadn't realized until later. The first time, moments before they'd met, Kirishima had assumed it was merely curiosity: the fish were swimming towards the shore, so he did too, wanting to see what they were running towards or from. The second time he'd gotten out of the water too quickly to be completely sure; before swimming, he had just told Bakugou he was a selkie, and half of him had expected to be alone when he next set foot on shore. The idea that Bakugou was calling the fish meant he hadn't run, so Kirishima had raced towards him, excited.

But this time… this time, he'd stayed away long enough to know it actually, truly was pulling him. It felt like an instinct: the same way his body acted of its own accord when he felt a predator was close by, it had begun swimming on its own, with no input from him. He could fight it – he'd tested that. He did not behave mindlessly, because he wasn't mindless. If he thought he was in danger, or if he just decided to go a different direction, he'd be able to swim away. It just meant that if he did so, there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying, Are you sure you want to do that?

It didn't make any sense, because he wasn't a fish, but at this point he couldn't deny it any longer. It only happened when he was in his seal form and only when he was in the water, but Kirishima definitely felt the pull of Bakugou's – whatever it was. Gift? Ability? Power?

"You called me back," he said, and Bakugou nodded.

"Yes."

The directness of Bakugou's gaze made Kirishima feel dizzy, so he stood and approached the boy, sitting next to him on the bed. He assumed that they'd be too close for Bakugou to keep looking at him, but Bakugou simply shifted away slightly and kept his gaze trained on Kirishima: unyielding, direct, almost predatory in its focus.

"What you said about Midoriya made me feel sad," Kirishima said, after a moment's pause. He'd thought these words over, composing editing speeches in his mind, although he could only remember bits and pieces of them now, nervous as he was. "I don't know Midoriya as well as you do, of course, but I don't think the things you listed are good reasons to hate him." Bakugou looked away at last, although Kirishima knew he was still listening. "I can't make you change your mind about him," he went on, the words flowing more smoothly now, "but, if you could, could you try to be… not nice, you don't have to be nice, but – not hostile."

"I haven't been hostile, have I?"

"No," Kirishima said, thinking back. "No, you haven't." He thought of something else he wanted to say, and spoke quickly, before he could be interrupted: "And please don't tell me again how much you hate him. Even if you do."

Bakugou raised his head to look at Kirishima again, apparently thinking it over. After a moment he gave a single nod.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked, voice low, after a moment's silence.

"Yes – no –" Kirishima felt as if he was in a tangle of emotions from which he couldn't tug himself free, and laughed, shaking his head. "I don't know. I don't want to leave though. I want to be with you."

The issue, he'd realized, was that he was seeing sides of Bakugou he hadn't seen when it was just the two of them living on the beach. He knew he would, but he assumed it would just involve grief. He hadn't imagined his sulky, odd, charming human would be the sort who would hate another person, entirely, maliciously, for no reason.

He still liked Bakugou, though. He still wanted to be with him. That hadn't changed. He just felt wiser, somehow – as if he understood humans a little more now than he had just a couple of days ago. No, not humans: Bakugou.

"Good," Bakugou said, looking away still, and Kirishima realized Bakugou really didn't want him to leave. He'd been sitting by the river; he'd been calling him back. Hoping.

"I'm glad we've come to an agreement," Kirishima said, and then he could not hold himself back any longer: he threw his arms around Bakugou, laughing, and held him close, breathing him in, happy to be back.