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If someone asked what he feared, Kirishima Eijirou would respond with “being weak.” He had no problem admitting his fears because everyone was afraid of something, plagued with some phobia they couldn’t discard.
But he was still Eijirou, wasn’t he? Made of muscles and cheer, Eijirou was a sweet, resolute man with a manly heart whom everyone loved and everyone judged, either out of envy or mistrust. Eijirou didn’t give a damn about what others thought about him, but he destroyed himself to save their skins anyway.
Eijirou was a prodigy who loved feeling adrenaline stream through his veins and hearing the triumphal applause. Loved the faces filled with relief when he breezed in. Loved the happiness and effort of his friends. Loved living , and all that came with it.
Eijirou was the number four hero who risked his life every fucking day to restore peace in the city even for a few hours, or a few minutes. He lived on that: the minutes of tranquility that life rewarded him for his unceasing effort.
But All Might was no longer there to bail them out. Exhaustion took its toll on Eijirou, and there could never be enough rest.
Still, it was enough for the moment.
Fading Ruby
It had been a long, long time since Eijirou last saw Bakugou. Actually, he had met him two weeks ago, but—it was still too long.
Eijirou had obligated himself to break ties with Bakugou after graduation, simply because he never conquered the nerve-wracking crush that had been killing him bit by bit inside. He knew Bakugou had no interest in him other than as good friends, and Eijirou had to zip-and-lock his mouth and throw the key very far away to not only protect Bakugou from his romantic longings, but protect his own heart from shattering into a hundred pieces.
But that didn’t imply his love for Bakugou had gone.
Eijirou was still so enamoured that a radiant smile blossomed across his lips every time Ground Zero appeared on TV, giving Eijirou such a splendid expression it made people around him question if he had really studied with Bakugou.
Were you not with him at the academy? He shouldn't surprise you, right?
Oh, if only they knew. Bakugou did nothing but surprise Eijirou in so many ways that there was no lack of admiration. Eijirou liked to think that Bakugou would always be by his side. Especially now, when the war between heroes and villains neared its climax. He required more than motivation to save innocent people and establish peace, required some beloved to protect and fight for until his rock-hard bones were ground to dust.
And right now, as his breath failed because of a punctured lung and blood slipping from every fold of his skin, Eijirou still wanted to protect him.
They had barely reunited after so long when the two villains were followed by another three, then two more, then another and another, and suddenly almost twenty people were storming them.
To put it bluntly, they would have no problem with any of them—they were professional heroes, after all, but their bodies tensed when they detected the traffickers were unusually aggressive.
“Why aren’t they tired?!” Bakugou hollered, back-to-back with Eijirou, looking around helplessly.
Red Riot coughed up the blood building up in his lungs. “Shit.” He looked up, gasping for air, clenching his hand into a fist as the pain stabbed at his chest. His exhausted gaze locked onto the jaws of a villain, his eager, sharp teeth, his dull eyes, his black tongue . Eijirou’s jaw dropped. “Man, they’re high!”
Dodging two villains by mere centimeters, Ground Zero huffed out a shaky laugh. “You scared, Riot?!”
“No! It’s not—” Eijirou backed away. “They’re stoned!”
Bakugou’s eyes flashed to the smugglers’ faces just before one of them smashed him and sent him flying backwards. Eijirou rushed to Bakugou’s side and hauled him up.
“Where the fuck is everyone?!” Bakugou tripped on their way into the avenue to gain the advantage of fewer attack-entry points, leaning against the wall of the building. Dirt stirred by multiple explosions floated in the air and Eijirou, so close to Bakugou, refrained from grasping Bakugou’s hand to ensure he didn’t lose him.
Now’s not the time.
“They’re coming,” Eijirou gasped, tucking back strands of hair escaping his ponytail.
They heard muffled beats above them—cannonballs, piercing the walls of the building. Bakugou and Eijirou barely had time to react as they realised what that entailed.
“Move!” Bakugou brusquely pushed him aside right before the structure came down on them.
Eijirou could endure almost anything, but Bakugou wouldn’t be able to bear tons of bricks without being squashed like a bug—so Bakugou used both hands to shoot explosions upwards to smash the entire criss-cross of debris over him, tongues of radiant fire engulfing them. With the force of the recoil, Bakugou ended up on the floor, slumped on his back with his hands tingling raw.
Ground Zero rubbed the blood away from his eyes as he staggered upright, staining his features as he observed the wounds marring his gloved fingers.
The roof above him collapsed and stones would have crushed him if he had not safeguarded his head with his other arm. Buried by a heap of gravel, he struggled against the weight of the rubble, coughing violently as his ribcage protested being broken.
“Riot!” he breathed out, sitting up heavily while his vision recovered. But a cramp flashing through his legs caused him to tumble. “Fuck! Dammit!”
He tried to maintain his composure, to inhale and exhale like Chargebolt had advised him a few days ago. Instead, he let out a enraged scream, detonating his palms again to finish tearing down the wall so the light and noise from outside reached him. He glimpsed fluorescent green, and Bakugou instantly knew Deku had finally arrived.
“About fucking time,” he complained, wiping the blood running down his lip with his knuckles.
Their enemy, Graphene, was the leader of the whole band, and he wasn’t one to underestimate. He was lantern-jawed and stocky, and the pallor of his gaunt, stern face made him grotesque. His quirk could harden as solid as graphene, something so new and almost indestructible that it had heroes gulping in doubt. Even so, Graphene was always tamping around; he was only brute force, so the Hero Force was trying to take advantage of his weak intelligence. But Graphene’s use of Trigger made too great a difference.
Bakugou was distracted by Red Riot rising from the rubble a length away. Only then did he scowl at Graphene's heavy breathing, to his imposing and weirdly immobile figure.
One step, two steps, and suddenly Graphene was before him, scrutinizing Bakugou’s countenance. Then Graphene’s strengthened fist came at him, and Bakugou willed himself to react; a doped blow of that calibre could be fatal.
And it was.
Bakugou’s gut twisted as Graphene’s iron-like fist crashed into his face as hard and unforgiving as an asteroid.
Somewhere in the background, Deku yelled, and Red Riot’s heart fell. Bakugou rolled on the cobblestone like a rag doll, sprinkling blood over every paver. Laying on the floor, he didn’t move, his shut eyes didn’t flicker, and Eijirou was having a goddamn heart attack—
“Ground Zero!”
It was not just Graphene; it was a whole band of drug-boosted Quirks lashing out at the same time and, as well as the heroes prepared for Graphene, they always missed out. They were so smothered by brute power that Eijirou couldn’t come to Bakugou’s rescue, he couldn’t verify that he was still breathing. Even so, Eijirou took a step towards him, but paused when Bakugou weighed on his arms and heaved up stiffly, his jaw sloshing with so much blood that—
“Stay… stay behind!” Bakugou commanded, slurring the words.
Eijirou was not the type to get behind his saviour— he was the saviour there, and ignored whatever warning Bakugou was giving him. Eijirou wasn’t built to watch anyone suffering for him. Not when Bakugou was choking out blood and his legs were quivering like jelly. Not when his breathing seemed to hitch and hesitancy permeated his face. Hesitancy , a word unbeknownst to Bakugou until now.
Eijirou couldn’t stay behind when the person he cherished most was being beaten up, as his back arched forward to protect his stomach when his knees gave up.
Not when the barrel of a gun pointed sickeningly at him.
Red Riot sprang towards Ground Zero. He had no memory thereafter. Judging by other heroes’ reactions, he wobbled due to the tension in his muscles. The distance to Bakugou was colossal and he wouldn’t make it in time to keep him away. Deku howled something and almost flew to kick the emitter.
But the gun was triggered, and Eijirou felt his heart drop for a millisecond.
It was almost instinctual, how his limbs shifted by themselves and propelled him toward Bakugou. He extended his arms to reach him and covered him with his body like an unswerving shield. He embraced him with a strangled whine, because his deepest essence, everything Eijirou was and had ever been, roared to protect Bakugou at all costs.
Then, he sensed it, the very first crack spreading across his soul. The needle of the bullet worming into his flesh, some liquid pouring into his bloodstream. One second of blankness, when the rhythm of his heart rate hesitated in his ears—a pleasant silence compared to the tempest around them.
His muscles seized up.
Eijirou’s joints bent like melted wax; he jolted at the cramps ascending through his spine, a sweltering lightning swirling in his very being. The hairs of his back bristled and waves of pain pounded until he was panting frantically.
Meanwhile, Deku had punched out the other villains, and Bakugou fluttered his eyelids, leveling his startled gaze to meet Eijirou’s. Red Riot was swift to hide the grimace of his smile.
“You’re okay ... ” Eijirou giggled blandly, and wrapped his arms around Bakugou’s neck.
Assured that Bakugou was still in one piece, his vision turned top-heavy. Bakugou’s tormented shriek was all he heard before blacking out.
Fractured Mars
It was complicated to expect good news when the bullet puncture continued torching his shoulder, pulsing in synchronization with his frenzied heartbeat, and the room was so small and the temperature so stuffy—
“I am sorry to say this, Kirishima-kun …” Recovery Girl mournfully whispered, expressing her most sincere condolences through the paper of the blood analysis rustling between her fingers.
Eijirou remembered that All Might was there too. As she spoke to them, All Might bowed in front of him and articulated a few words, clutching his shoulders to let him know that no one was alone in this world and that everything was going to be okay because he was a splendid hero and he had been through much worse and he just needed to cALM DOWN.
heyKirishima Kirishimamyboy lookatme calmdownokay breathebreathe it’sfinemyboy
Kirishimakunlaydown
is-is heokay?
Midoriyakun holdhimplease
he’shaving ananxietyattack
Kirishimakun
myboy…
***
Fifteen minutes was all he had needed. He had given himself fifteen minutes to breathe in and out. One more breath. He squashed down the panic in his throat, urged himself to speak as the world ceased spinning and he could recall what he was doing. He had been so close to bursting into tears. So close.
Are you okay? You sure? Do you want me to bring Kacchan?
Izuku was always so tender-hearted, and strong, and powerful. Yet Izuku touched his face delicately, concerned eyes beseeching him, and Eijirou knew that Izuku wished to cry as well.
“You can talk to me anytime, you know?”
Man-to-man, hero-to-hero, Izuku was a witness to what supposed to be quirkless, to how despairing a person could be. Eijirou nodded, and he was left alone until Bakugou walked into the room and closed the door behind him.
“What’s wrong,” he asked, putting his hands inside the pockets as he shuffled to the stretcher. Bandages circled his jaw to the soft bridge between his chin and his adam’s apple, pressing up and back. He had no idea that he had been pointed with a quirk eraser gun, but he was smarter than people thought and his brow was knitted in concern.
He couldn’t tell Bakugou. There was this apprehension of Bakugou mocking him, of abandoning a wimp like him. Of Bakugou unjustly blaming himself. That was why Eijirou had held Izuku’s hand firmly and had looked between the three of them before allowing Bakugou in.
Please, don’t tell anyone…
He beamed, with the most extreme ache he had ever felt. “Everything’s alright, man! Wanna go to my place? I’ll cook!”
Bakugou relaxed the tension in his back, closed his eyes, and let out an exhausted breath.
“Sure.”
Eijirou’s smile shuddered for a minuscule second, but from now on, he was supposed to learn how to be strong again. So he chuckled, and the universe collapsed soundlessly right there.
… Don’t tell him.
Breathless Dragon
Brooding over Recovery Girl’s words days later, Eijirou felt a wave of ‘what if’ creeping up on him. He repeated the same words over and over again to check whether it hadn’t been a nightmare. Whether his quirk was really lessening as time went by.
They have no easy access to the drug, so it is indeed diluted, Recovery Girl had said. But it is the sufficient amount to erase quirks, and the serum we have isn’t good enough yet. The drug is still inside you, Kirishima-kun.
Everything around him circled the drain like a destructive spiral. In an instant, Eijirou watched the floor plummeting underneath his feet, and he hadn’t stopped falling, falling, falling.
You will become quirkless within a month.
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in.
No. No way. That fuc—that hell of a drug was diluted. He … he would be all right.
The crowd around him fled from the Noumus, and Eijirou felt time beginning to work against him.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
And Eijirou pushed, and pushed, and pushed —
The itch tied his neck with a string and everything hurt for a paltry second, enough for a Noumu to grab his head and crush it—if Earphone Jack hadn’t swept in. She looked at Eijirou after getting rid of the creature. Focus, Red Riot. I can practically hear you thinking.
Not long after, All Might offered him recuperation leave from the division for the rest of the month. At Eijirou’s pained expression, All Might quickly explained that he needed to stay clear of the recent chaos so he could take things easy.
And truth be told, Eijirou saw his point—he was being a nuisance. All Might was too polite to say it aloud and didn’t want to further afflict him, considering the dark bags under his eyes, the black roots in his hairline and the obvious absence of his radiant smile.
You’re hurting, my boy , he said instead, patting his back. I know how you feel, I really do. But you need to rest for now.
It was terrifying. Eijirou knew that All Might was talking about his health, both physical and mental, and yet he felt discarded.
For God’s sake, he knew , and his eyes were watering against his will, and he kept his head down to avoid All Might’s baring gaze, to keep him from seeing how he grieved inside. I understand , Eijirou said, and fought the grip crushing him from within.
***
The next crack appeared a week later when he was dusting a bookshelf. He had grabbed a pile of books off the shelf and a volume thicker than the others slipped from his hand.
His instinct was agile, and his foot hardened in expectation of the impact. Under normal circumstances, it would have felt like the flick of a cotton ball. But the book’s corner stabbed his foot, and pain flamed up his entire leg and into his heart, both from the injury and the realization his foot was not fully hardened yet.
Usually, he needed no more than two seconds to harden his body. But the rosy mark of the blow throbbed, and forty-four seconds later, his foot had yet to harden.
Uh? What’s—What’s happening?! Why… I’m not—
His eyes flickered between the book on the carpet and the skin of his foot, heart pounding, pounding, pounding.
Defective Dynamite
As soon as his leave concluded, Eijirou was reinstated to the Hero Force.
They were chasing a trio of villains, and between Sun Eater, Ingenium and him, Eijirou was to corral the third one. It was simple; he would harden his entire body as immunity against the sweat emitting quirk, and Eijirou had smirked, pretty easy . He only had to concentrate for four seconds.
Breathe, push, you’re gonna make it.
The entire surface of his skin consolidated into the sharp stones of a cliff, and Eijirou smiled, proud. Easy, wasn’t it?
He stared at the emitter. His legs started to pulse, maybe because of his earlier sprint.
He was stepping forward when he lingered abruptly at a sharp sensation. Eijirou hissed, sucking in a hard breath when he glanced down at himself and saw his skin tearing open like crevasses in a mountain. There were cuts everywhere, and the stinging was increasingly intense, no blood anywhere. What …? What’s happening? Dammit, it hurts too much! Why does it hurt?? I can’t—FUCK!
His knees weakened and he stumbled forward, annulling the effects of his quirk. His ponytail spilled over his shoulder, silky, and he shut his eyes to block out the dizziness spinning around him.
Ingenium shouted his hero name in warning, but Eijirou barely managed to open one eye to see the swords launching at him. A carapace shelter quickly shielded him, thanks to Sun Eater behind him, hand extended and transformed into the shell of some crustacean.
Sun Eater yelled to stay back, but Eijirou couldn't move. Every limb, every joint, every muscle was frozen, and Eijirou felt the total loss of his quirk as imminent, the drug poisoning his brain, and he never wanted it to come.
But reality was worse, and the cuts on his skin bled out like a canvas scuffed with aggressive brush strokes, screaming internally.
He was terribly scared.
***
Bakugou came over almost every day in the weeks afterward, ringing the bell so earnestly that Eijirou eventually gave Bakugou a key so he could break into his house “whenever the fuck I want to.” Eijirou stood at a crossroad—he enjoyed Bakugou’s company, prayed for him to arrive, but some other part of him loathed it.
There was that um…
Tautness , Eijirou pressed a hand against his chest, watching Bakugou seated at the kotatsu, pulling the blanket tighter around himself, there because he worried about him.
It was not that he was complaining — Eijirou was wild about Bakugou’s pretty face. Still with a subtle roundness over his cheekbones in his twenty-four years, an alluring sheen glossed every inch, from irises as carmine as the flaming blood in his fresh cheeks to the new scar engraving across his huffy, roseate lips. The light from the roof fell upon his feathery, radiant hair; Bakugou tilted his head imperceptibly, causing his earrings to sparkle and his muscled neck to strain. He wasn’t complaining, it was just that —
It was just that Bakugou was breathtakingly beautiful.
And Eijirou was there, looking absolutely like a ruin in his pajama pants, shirtless from turning up the heating too high, red hair fading at the roots. He thought, He’s like a god and I’m not even a man, with the ache prickling everywhere.
“Bullshit,” Bakugou barked, punching the remote control to shut the TV off. “Kiri, don’t you—Hey.”
It was awkward to be in the same room with Bakugou given that he was concealing absolutely everything from him.
“Hey. You okay?”
Eijirou blinked to chase the thoughts away. Please, don’t ask.
“Yeah! Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”
“What the fuck is bothering you?” Bakugou spat, swirling toward him, and Eijirou saw autumn in his eyes, rich copper turning to fervent red. Eijirou opened his mouth, but Bakugou cut him off. “It’s because of our last fight against Graphene, isn’t it?”
At Eijirou’s silence, Bakugou could read him like a kindergarten book. “... I fucking knew.”
“It’s okay, really. I’ve just been thinking … do you think we’ll, um, defeat Graphene?”
Bakugou gave him a look. “Of course.”
For the millionth time, Eijirou wanted Bakugou to be right, that it was just a matter of time before they haunted Graphene and everything went back to how it used to be.
But it was too much to demand. When Bakugou informed him that he was making dinner that night, Eijirou felt the same splintering, gnawing sound in his bones. Eijirou didn’t deserve Bakugou one bit.
Wounded Cardinal
Since he was fifteen, Eijirou resolved to become a hero who could face any enemy and emerge like a champion with his fist held high, so the people behind him would cry with relief knowing they were safe, that they were not going to die.
Red Riot had grown a lot since then. People placed all their trust in him when their lives depended on him.
So Red Riot, as fragile as he really was, hurried to gain last seconds of power he had left, not caring that he had to crawl through a few more drops of Trigger.
He was a fucking coward, garbage, an absolute piece of sh—
Feeling the giddiness dwindle his senses, Eijirou returned to the battle, skidding around a corner. EraserMind swiveled his attention to him.
“You have a plan?” Eijirou asked.
Graphene had a difficult quirk to overcome, not only because EraserMind couldn’t affect him since drug users lost their sense of reason, but because Graphene’s endurance had no end .
“Ground Zero is trying to distract him so you can attack when his guard is down,” EraserMind put on his mask.
Eijirou was their key to defeat Graphene. His quirk could be as strong as Graphene’s if he ambushed with the right technique at the right moment. Bakugou and the rest trusted him, working to move the band of villains away. Bakugou began launching cannon fire, using more power than what he often used.
“Red Riot!” Bakugou screamed, when the cloud of smoke densed, looking forward.
Eijirou psyched himself up. Forty seconds would be enough, he only had to endure the pain forty seconds and everything would end. Closing his eyes, Eijirou leaned forward, blocking out his surroundings, breathing through the dread contorting his lungs.
It’s okay.
All Eijirou could hear was Bakugou’s explosions, but somehow he swept it away and clawed his nails into the palms of his hands and—he pushed.
Push it, take it over the edge, focus, harden, more, more, c’mon, more!
He opened his now sharp mouth to catch his breath. His body was one hundred percent hardened, his limbs hefty as iron, all the creases of his skin briered as blades—
Eijirou had morphed into his Unbreakable form.
Slowly, moving his legs forwards, Eijirou proved it didn’t hurt a little bit, oddly enough. Bakugou stepped back to give him room, saying he would be right behind him all along. The cloud of smoke dispelled, and Eijirou could see Graphene’s coarse figure.
Eijirou darted. It was their opportunity to finally bid Graphene farewell once and for all, and there was no way he could fail. He ran, crushing asphalt underneath his feet with every stride. He was close. He was so close, about to jump toward Graphene, taking advantage of his lowered guard.
Suddenly, his pulse throbbed twice when the muscles of his both arms cramped in the middle of the race. His eyes swelled in panic as his joints started to burn and his skin to get ripped in fissures, and his legs stopped forthwith when he felt the hardening trailing off.
No, no, no ... no! Please! Not now!
He pushed, tensing his jaw so intensely that blood didn’t take long to seep through his teeth. The smoke cleared enough for Eijirou to see his own skin dyeing red with cuts—a pointless push-and-pull causing him atrocious pain.
Behind him, Bakugou questioned what the fuck was wrong in a tone so impatient that Eijirou tensed his whole body in a desperate intent of bring back his quirk, but as soon as he took himself over the edge, his muscles seemed to implode and the cuts widened, making him growl and bend. He tried to push again despite everything—
—but the hardness never came.
Where is it?! Where, where, where—
“Watch out!” EraserMind shouted as Bakugou yanked Eijirou backwards before Graphene’s fist could crush his face.
Ground Zero extended his arm cannon at Graphene, detonating the weapon with all the intensity he had. The ball of light and fire flew through the air and collided with Graphene, causing the explosion they needed to flee.
Everything boomed, and Bakugou dragged him toward the corner of a blind alley. Eijirou slumped down to his knees, gasping deeply. Only once he came to his mind did he realise that he was a injured mess.
If Bakugou gasped, he didn’t notice. But Eijirou heard his boots scuff the pavement, and his rage had never felt so distressing.
“Don’t,” Eijirou stopped him, voice rougher than he intended. “I’m okay. I just need ... more time.”
There was an exasperated noise, but Eijirou couldn’t hear anything over his panting. Nothing but Bakugou’s neutral voice,
“Your time’s up, isn’t it?”
Snap. Bakugou’s words felt like a whip cracking the air.
It would be an understatement to say he was defeated. With an ache scorching his ever-beating heart, Red Riot was suddenly aware that everything was over for him when Ground Zero raised his arm to the sky, countenance still indecipherable, and circled his wrist with his other hand to use the last remains of his energy. His right palm brightened.
Riot clenched his jaw and tried to swallow the lump in his throat as Bakugou’s ruined gloves burst out a flash of light that flew up to the sky. The flickering splendour reflected on Eijirou’s eyes, dampening before the meaning of that signal. Man down .
“I’m… ” Eijirou tried to say, but his throat was so ravaged that it sounded more like a whimper than an apology. “I’m so sorry.”
Bakugou let his arm fall, his body motionless and worn. Eijirou thought he would faint at any moment when Bakugou suddenly spun to face him. Despair shaded every feature of his face, wrinkled his forehead and squeezed his lips together. His eyes were red.
And that was what finally tore Eijirou’s heart open up and down.
Gritting his teeth, he hung his head. His shoulders trembled as the first tears rolled down his cheeks, sweeping dirt and blood along and making Eijirou even more vulnerable to Bakugou’s anguished look. He wanted to hurry up and wipe away the tears, to assure Bakugou that everything was alright. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s f —
But he wasn’t able to help it, and he was scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms and sobbing uncontrollably, panting for the air that his tears took away from him.
He didn’t notice the splendour of the flare descending wearily from the top of the sky, didn’t notice his own harsh cries echoing through the alley. But he did notice Bakugou’s arms encircling his body and tugging him closer in a sheltering hug, his warm skin grazing his. Bakugou pressed his fingertips to his shoulder blades as if he were holding him to prevent him from falling apart. Bakugou breathed out, long and shaky, and ran his hand through Eijirou’s hair.
There were no words coming from him, but it was such a delicate gesture that Eijirou allowed Bakugou to be the strength he needed. He realised then--it was the first and only time the great Ground Zero had asked for help.
Withered Poppy
Recovery Girl glanced over the medical papers and Eijirou noted the disappointment and the sadness flooding her narrowed eyes, understanding that Eijirou had been consuming Trigger recently and his quirk had disappeared entirely. With a trembling I’m sorry , she left for the waiting room to bring the rest up to speed.
And Bakugou’s swears were no late in coming.
Eijirou’s heart leapt into his throat, shuddering there as if he were drowning in the irrational sorrow of Bakugou’s harsh yells. Bakugou knew that Eijirou became quirkless in the same instant when his Unbreakable form came off like a facade too heavy, but it was the word ‘Trigger’ that detonated the maelstrom of his understandable rage.
The door flew open and Bakugou stood there, breathing sharply and slamming the door shut behind him.
“Explain. Now! ”
Eijirou’s head snapped up and his lips half-opened. But he was so tired of everything , that he bowed his head and let his gaze fall to the floor. What did he expect him to say? That he was sorry? That he should have told him from the very beginning?
Bakugou’s fist drove into the wall next to him and the whole room quivered. Eijirou flinched in place, eyes dampening again.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? When were you planning on telling us you were growing fucking quirkless?!”
“I didn’t… I didn’t want you all to treat me like I was less than you.”
“And it’s a great option, acting as if everything was fine and shooting up in the back like a fucking smackhead!”
Eijirou stammered at the lacerating words. “I had no choice! People needed me and, and I couldn’t… just do nothing and watch. I felt like everyone was leaving me behind.”
“Leaving you behind?! This is not a goddamn game! You’ve been hiding from everything, for fuck’s sake! You’re not a hero—you’re a fucking coward!”
Eijirou’s chest burned. As if he didn’t know. He was aware he was a complete failure. But it didn’t give Bakugou the right to leave him at rock bottom.
“What about Izuku?” Eijirou hissed. Bakugou blinked, momentarily bewildered.
“It’s that?” Bakugou shouted back. “So it’s that?! You really thought I was gonna laugh at you?!”
“I thought you was gonna look down on me! Like you did to Izuku!”
“What?! This is totally different!”
“It’s the same old story, Bakugou!” Eijirou’s hands fisted in the mattress. “You always try to be the fucking best, even if you have to push everyone down to get it! You only care about yourself! You bullied Izuku for years just because he was quirkless. Because he was weak . And you expect me to tell you I was losing my power, just like that? To let you go over me too?!”
“Don’t say one more word,” Bakugou hissed.
“No, Bakugou, it doesn't work like that!” Eijirou stood up too quickly, pressing a hand against his skull. “I—I was terrified!” It sounded rough, despite the fact that he felt like crying at any moment. “I didn’t care that everybody turned their back on me. I don’t care, okay?! But—but I couldn’t bear to think you might do that as well.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Bakugou crossed the few steps between them and yanked at Eijirou’s hospital gown. For a moment, their unbridled breaths were close, but Bakugou snorted and stepped back.
“How stupid of me. The one person I thought knew me hates me too.”
I don’t hate you , Eijirou wanted to yell. But he was so furious, so horridly devastated inside, that he couldn't say a single word.
“What a fucking surprise,” Bakugou bitterly laughed, crossing his arms. “You know what? Since we’re talking shit about each other—”
Eijirou clenched his jaw.
“I’ve never considered you as an equal. C’mon, I’ve never even thought about you as a decent rival. You’ve been weak your entire life, and you’ll always be. You don’t deserve to be a hero. You don’t deserve anything.”
Word by word, Eijirou felt a size smaller. He believed everything coming out of Bakugou’s mouth, because he had expected him to abandon him anytime. But it still hurt like hell.
“I’m fucking glad you’ve become an useless pile of shit.”
Eijirou detested this situation, detested his condition, detested being as weak as Bakugou was saying—detested Bakugou.
Clenching his fists into a hard mass of trembling muscles, Eijirou’s arm pulled back and, with all his suppressed rage, punched Bakugou’s face.
He promptly regretted it.
Bakugou stumbled and fell backwards to the floor. He kept his head turned to the side, tortuously silent, and his hand moved to the red, swelling angle of his jaw.
Eijirou felt like an absolute lowlife. He moved to approach him, but stopped when Bakugou stood, bottom lip bleeding.
“I’ve believed all this time you weren’t like the others—” Bakugou said, so subdued that it pained Eijirou. “But I see it’s not so.”
Disappointment , Bakugou’s expression screamed, and Eijirou’s chest churned. Because Eijirou knew, hoped, that Bakugou didn’t mean any of it. But Bakugou was already walking to the door.
He’s leaving . Eijirou had to stop him, had to stay with him no matter the circumstances, because he would die otherwise. Bakugou was the last thing he had.
But his body was paralyzed, and Bakugou was leaving before his eyes.
Bakugou turned, then, and,
“Don’t ever speak to me again.”
And with that said, he walked away, the door closing behind him.
Eijirou heard his own harsh breathing echo in the room. His dream, his quirk, Bakugou. Everything was gone, and Eijirou realised it had always been a long lost quarrell.
Soaring Cardinal
Certainly, this was the most difficult thing he had ever done. Sucking in a long, shaky breath, he gripped the microphone between his fingers. Just three days since his downfall, Eijirou was to deliver a heartwarming message about what it meant to be a hero, about how lucky he felt to be in the same era as these magnificent heroes. About the faith they had in building a better world.
And yet, nothing he knew had meaning anymore. An empty shell: that was Eijirou, the shadow of something that could have been—but never would be.
“Thanks for your support.”
It was the only acknowledgment he thought to be accurate as his heart shattered.
***
He couldn’t visualize any way to spend his life: wondering at day, wandering at night, following the same pattern for days.
He frequented a park near his neighbourhood. The peace of it was the only thing that kept him there, the splendorous night, when the leaves landed just before him, vulnerable, insignificant. Lifeless .
They reminded Eijirou of himself. It was useless to reflect on its worth when he was stuck in a dead end, when he was destined to fall and never rise again, because he didn’t want to die, but didn’t want to live either.
And yet he was still envious of everybody’s happiness, because it was like wanting to heal an infected wound but not knowing where to find it. He entertained the sting there, the tingling in his limbs, the bewilderment kidnapping his breath.
“How can I live through this?” he muttered to the wind.
He was still very alive, though. It was just that, even now, when the sky was sprinkled with stars, Eijirou felt like an evanescent constellation.
Heaving a clenching breath, the answer crossed across his mind. I can’t.
He thought about going back to home when he heard someone approaching him. Bakugou was there, coming closer and closer until Eijirou’s lungs felt too small for air.
“What are you doing here?” Eijirou asked before panicking.
Bakugou cleared his throat. “You weren’t at home. I’ve been looking for you.”
It was not what Eijirou was referring to. A few seconds of silence passed.
“If you can believe it, I was feeling lonely.”
Who would believe it, huh? The invincible Bakugou Katsuki needing someone else.
“Well, it wasn’t just that. I knew you were… quirkless.” He uttered the word almost ruthlessly. “But one day everyone started calling me to ask for you. Mina was crying, and Denki told me to watch the news. So I did. It reminded me of when the entire world saw All Might all washed up.”
Emanating defeat, Eijirou realised he was precisely like All Might, and he wondered how he had survived that... that disease. With help, for sure, from people he loved. And Eijirou had someone he loved to the bones right there, talking to him in such a velvety voice that he was going to lose it.
“Then... I saw you, standing out in the midst of all heroes,” Bakugou murmured, so placidly it was almost a soothing lullaby, “and told myself I needed to come back.”
Emotions overflowed Eijirou’s chest. Needed, Bakugou said, like he could have not lived without his presence, like he really wanted to be alongside Eijirou no matter what, like he needed him.
Eijirou swallowed, digging his nails into the bare flesh of his arms. He was so anxious he would lift his head and see Bakugou staring at him with pity wrinkling his eyes like everyone else. So he didn’t look.
“I didn’t come here to cheer you up. ‘Cause I can’t. I can’t even imagine how... miserable... you feel right now.” His words were gentle, like the whistle of the night breeze. “Don’t know what I would’ve done if I were in your shoes, either.”
His worn-down sneakers ambled dangerously toward Eijirou until he was practically kneeling next to him. Eijirou heaved a sigh and finally gazed upon him.
Bakugou’s eyes used to be intense and tender like red roses, but the midnight tinted his irises and two dark amethysts blinked at him. The air blew the short tresses falling over his forehead. Right there, only a short distance from him, Eijirou yearned to lace his hand in Bakugou’s and voice his most intimate feelings.
“But…” Bakugou moved his head down, moonlight brushing his features so his cheeks gleamed like burnished silver. He looked up, held Eijirou’s gaze and breathed, “But I do know I would’ve liked to be with you.”
Another heartbeat pulsed overwhelmingly against his ribcage. Eijirou shut his eyes, trying to retain what little calm he had left. But Bakugou pressed his forehead against his, prompting him to open his eyes.
“Hey. Stop torturing yourself, okay?” Bakugou touched the back of his hand. “You’re not useless. You can be whoever you want.”
All of sudden, something finally gave. The wound tore open and began to bleed out, but finally, Eijirou could heal it with the care it required—Bakugou had found a cracked treasure within the deepest part of Eijirou’s being. He found it, and he had caressed his heartstrings so, so sweetly that Eijirou ached to let Bakugou play the song he was keeping within.
Tears dripping down his face, Eijirou admitted he wasn’t fine at all, he was agonising since the beginning of the end. He could no longer suppress himself and his entire soul cracked to pieces.
“It hurts so much …” Eijirou rubbed his forehead against Bakugou’s and exhaled, holding back a distraught moan. His hand shivered as he approached Bakugou’s, and their fingers twinned together almost desperately. “Please …” he sobbed, “Stay with me.”
Bakugou cupped his face with his hand and thumbed his cheek to wipe away the cascade of tears. His voice was low and hoarse, maybe a bit sharp—but it was like a heavenly song.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
For the time being, Eijirou was sure that crumbling between Bakugou’s arms was not that bad.
Flammable Dynamite
They woke up the next morning in Eijirou’s apartment, next to each other, breathing peacefully, Eijirou’s arm over Bakugou’s waist. Bakugou had been staring at him in silence, but got up, saying “Finally,” before yawning loudly.
Eijirou wondered if Bakugou had watched him sleep.
“ As long as you got a manly spirit, then quirks don’t count for nothing,” Bakugou quoted later, leaning on the counter of the kitchen as Eijirou made breakfast next to him. “Wasn’t it like that?”
Eijirou blinked, chuckling nervously. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. But it’s hard, y’know? There’s this—this feeling that reminds me how I used to be back in high school. I used to think I was garbage because I was too scared to be a hero. I was weak.”
And he was still weak and scared, in fact. It was painful to remember every damn second that his power was not there, painful to feel that emptiness.
“I didn’t want to revert back into that again. So I tried. I really tried to move on and be myself. But when you’re all alone…” Eijirou exhaled. “It’s kinda impossible.”
One eyebrow raised, Bakugou crossed his arms. “You were weak—you said so yourself. Just keep being as fucking strong as usual.”
Spiritually and physically, Bakugou seemed to say, but Eijirou was too occupied trying not to tear up with emotion—Bakugou thought he was strong, and Eijirou’s throat burned once again to keep his feelings inside.
“Besides, the fuck is that? That you’re alone? Since when?” Bakugou stared at him, eyes on Eijirou’s profile. “I’m here. I wouldn’t be here if you were a weakass. Who do you take me for?”
Eijirou chuckled, eyes softening as if a burden had been taken off him.
“What I said last night…” Bakugou cleared his throat a bit. “I was being serious about, like, everything.”
Eijirou wrinkled his nose at him, trying to recall Bakugou’s words.
Bakugou scratched his neck, looking shy for the first time in years. “You’re gonna make me repeat it...?”
“Oh!” Eijirou briefly laughed when it came to him, trying to look calm. But I do know I would’ve liked to be with you. “Yeah, um. Real buddies stay together, don’t they? Thanks for that!”
Bakugou flushed furiously. “Real buddies, the bastard says...” He was still watching every one of Eijirou’s moves. “Look, I’m gonna make it clear.” He swallowed and took a deep breath. “It was a confession, you get it? A confession. Of love.”
Eijirou froze, eyes widening, lips parted but unable to speak. Bakugou held his gaze, cheeks reddening until his whole face was scarlet.
Oh, he was so adorable, crossed arms and flush crawling up his neck. Eijirou stepped towards him until they were a foot apart. He swallowed the lump in his throat and licked his lips, his chest rising and falling.
“I’ve been in love with you since you took my hand eight years ago, Bakugou,” he solemnly confessed, a slight pink staining his cheeks. “I love you so much I think I’m gonna explode.”
Eijirou waited, his ears catching fire, and—
And just like that one time, Bakugou reached for his hand. Bakugou held his face, slanted his own, and pressed his mouth to Eijirou’s.
It was the kiss Eijirou had dreamed of for so long, and yet it was even softer, even more gentle than he had imagined.
An agitated suspire came out of Eijirou’s mouth, so overwhelmed by the emotions of having Bakugou like this, this close, this intimate, that he thought his heart would fail him. Eijirou wouldn’t know exactly how, but he felt like Bakugou had set an uncontrollable fire within him, especially when his rough hand tangled in his ponytail and pulled the long hair to deepen the kiss until they were out of air.
Eijirou panted into Bakugou’s wonderful mouth, and stared at his beautiful, beautiful eyes. Bakugou looked back, and they were kissing again, gasping for each other, longing for more caresses, more time and more love, exactly what Eijirou demanded right then—time and love to cure his wounds, and Bakugou was disposed to give them to him, to take all the time of this universe and love him kiss by kiss.
Slowly, they broke apart, Bakugou snorting a roguish chuckle, and Eijirou pressed his forehead against his, laughing for what felt like eternities.
Incendiary Dragon
“Have you thought about keeping working as usual, Kirishima-kun?” Nedzu asked him days later, looking dully at him, but Eijirou knew that Nedzu was hopeful by the expectancy in the timbre of his voice.
Eijirou blinked. “I thought people needed to have quirks to become heroes.”
“It is rather important, but not mandatory,” he pointed out, jumping off his office chair. “You have done a great job since your first year at the Academy. It would be unfortunate to spoil it now, don’t you think?”
Eijirou swallowed. “Maybe... I could be a policeman. I’m sorry, Nedzu-san, but right now I’m too inadequate to be a hero.”
“Well...” he weighed Eijirou’s words. “I can see the logic of that. But, there are heroes who are policemen as well.”
“...Like Fat Gum?”
“Like Fat Gum. You’re too strong to be just a policeman, but too inadequate to be a hero, in your opinion.” He walked silently until he was in front of Eijirou. “Why not be both?”
Eijirou stuttered, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I don’t know, honestly.”
“Don’t rush, Kirishima-kun, you can take your time.” Nedzu stared at him. “But we will always need heroes. You can be one of them, quirkless or not.”
Exhaling heavily, Eijirou bent his head after a silence in which, maybe, a tiny maybe, he had caught sight of hope.
Relentless Mars
“I’m sorry,” Bakugou apologised one day. The train was empty and Eijirou, next to him, leaning on his shoulder, looked up. “For what I said when Recovery Girl told us what was going on with you. I felt… frustrated. I—I regret every damn word.”
“It’s okay. I know,” Eijirou responded, fisting his hands in Bakugou’s lap. “I should’ve told you in the first place, anyways. And… I want you to know that I’ve been thinking about… everything these last days and—I think I’m accepting Nedzu-san’s proposal.”
Bakugou tilted his head down as his mouth kissed Eijirou’s forehead. “I wanna try …” Eijirou continued, his gaze looking absently to the floor. “I wanna try to be myself.”
“I’d expect nothin’ less,” Bakugou muttered, closing his eyes. “You better shut them up.”
Eijirou soft smile appeared on his lips while the orangeish sunset bathed the wagon.
I will.
Everlasting Ruby
It was always like that. He felt the adrenaline in his veins, his stomach, and his body became almost ethereal, easy to move, easy to control. Eijirou loved that sensation.
Now, Eijirou wanted to back away from the scene ahead. He watched heroes steer civilians from one side to another, feeling like he didn’t belong there. But a palm settled against his back, guiding him forward, and Ground Zero stood at his side.
“Don’t run. You’re almost there.”
Eijirou blinked twice and nodded. Together, they headed for the battlefield.
Out at the front, Ingenium and Shouto were incapacitating the villains, kicking, punching, and freezing them before they could use the Trigger. Bakugou ran forward and aimed his grenade, detonating cannonballs of fire as smoke that consumed the band of villains. Deku jumped from villain to villain in a flash of jade lightning, pouncing on Graphene and delivering a Detroit punch directly to his face.
Eijirou lowered his weight onto his knees, blowing a breath through his mouth. Beside him, EraserMind’s speaker amplified his voice so it could reach the smugglers.
“Peace is war,” EraserMind said, and the remainders of Graphene’s band stopped for a second. A second that the heroes took advantage of.
“Red Riot!” yelled Ground Zero.
Eijirou’s heart pounded at Bakugou’s hoarse, heartsome voice uplifting him. He saw an open path to the front, inviting him to avenge all his insecurities at the main cause that had burnt his entire world into ashes.
He propelled himself toward Graphene’s static form, frozen from the combined effects of Shouto and EraserMind’s quirks, reassuring his scrambled stomach by levelling a stubborn gaze at Graphene’s furious eyes. He almost heard Bakugou’s voice supporting him.
Go to him with everything you have.
Eijirou tightened his jaw, his clenched hand grasping its destiny in slow motion.
…Push yourself until you feel outpaced...
Eijirou let out an euphoric, furious scream, and finally, after infinities of hurting for being vulnerable, he punched out Graphene’s toughened jaw.
…And turn into an indestructible diamond.
It was as exhilarating as he remembered—Graphene’s head snapped back from the inertia, his eyes went blank, and blood spilled out of his mouth. And, just like that, Graphene fell.
Eijirou reeled a little, but managed to stay on his feet.
Everything was quiet except for his breathing and thudding heartbeat. He swallowed, quavering from the eagerness taking over his whole existence. Eyes fixed on Graphene’s fallen form, Eijirou thought, It’s over.
He breathed deeply. From behind, the rest of the people observed his silhouette, glowing in a stance that embodied the bravery and force of the hero they deserved.
Eijirou raised an arm, hand balled into a victorious fist, and the crowd whooped his name into the name of peace. It was a win, and Eijirou discovered he still had a taste for victory.
He heard footsteps approaching him. He turned—Bakugou reached him and Eijirou saw his relieved face, smirking preciously as he said,
“You did it, Red Riot.”
He felt peace, happiness, and love, all at once in a whirlwind, making his heart pulse a beautiful melody. He heard screams of triumph in the background, cheers from the people he had saved, from the friends that were still with him, from the heroes he adored so much.
He covered his mouth with his hand, furrowing his brow at the tears fogging his sight. His entire body trembled, and tears of happiness drizzled down his cheeks as a wrenching sob came out. Before he could hide his face, Bakugou pulled him into a hug and laughed with emotion.
I did it.
Eijirou felt his universe expand.
Red Riot did it.
He cried at the unfathomed wonder he could again handle the reins of his life.
If someone asked what he feared, Eijirou would respond with “losing hope.” He was himself, and he didn’t have any problem with that. Eijirou was no longer the number four hero, but he was still a prodigy whom everyone either loved or envied. Now, he was strong enough to not give a damn about what anyone else did or didn’t consider a hero.
A hero would stand in front of someone, rooted to the spot, and would protect them as if it was their last volition. A hero defended those who couldn’t do it by themselves, even if an inferno surrounded them or a machine gun riddled at them.
Eijirou risked his life to protect the world from itself, avoid it from getting hurt. Because it was fragile, aside from fierce. It had claws beneath feathers that tore lives apart.
That was when Eijirou came into battle, crossing his arms and grinning like he had lived through ancient times. Like he knew the secrets of immortality and the Sun was orbiting around him. . It was the greatest sensation in this precious, precious world.
Going outside after a long afternoon of work, the sunshine shimmered Eijirou’s eyes, and he used his hand as a gamp to shadow his eyes and identify a figure resting against the entrance wall.
Eijirou scowled lightly at the sudden nervousness clasping on his chest. Again, the tautness, stretching, stretching, as his panic to being ineffective or Bakugou forsaking him commenced to suffocate him. But Bakugou was there, waiting for him, a reminder that it was all very real after everything that had happened.
Eijirou ran toward Bakugou, his laugh singing Bakugou’s first name, jumping on him even before Bakugou could turn his head to him. It felt like they had been standing in front of each other for lifetimes, far and near, until their hands had finally connected. Eijirou had learnt that being quirkless didn’t matter at all—honestly... who cared?
There would be scars always, inside and outside, and they would hurt forever. Maybe tomorrow he would get hurt again. Maybe neither of them would be there.
“Bakugou?”
Maybe he was worthless and Bakugou would stop loving him from one moment to the next.
“Hm?”
Maybe.
“I’m happy.”
Maybe not.
Bakugou snorted, so quietly Eijirou thought he didn’t hear him.
“Of course you are, fucker,” he said, captivated by the way Eijirou’s newly-dyed hair gleamed red beneath the sun.
Eijirou rolled his lost gaze to Bakugou and noticed, with an immense affection bubbling in his stomach, that Bakugou’s lips had quirked up a little bit.
“I love you,” Eijirou said, fiddling with the back of Bakugou’s neck.
Bakugou blushed, slightly annoyed by the sudden words, and leaned to kiss Eijirou’s forehead. “Me too,” he replied, his hand returning to Eijirou’s hair.
Eijirou beamed. Bakugou tangled one lock around his finger, his tiny smile dimming away.
“So… you really want to? To protect the world?”
“I do,” Eijirou confirmed. “I’ve been fighting for this for my entire life. I’m not gonna give up now.”
He did have fear. But Bakugou’s smile brought him hope.
“Good,” Bakugou crooned, and there was his lovable smirk again. “I knew you were unbreakable after all.”
That was more than perfect enough for the moment.