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Bakugou Katsuki knows his purpose in life is to succeed.
He was born to be thrown into danger only to emerge victorious. He feeds off the praise and admiration that comes with being the best of the best. The only path in life that would satiate his desires was to work for UA’s Space Association. So he worked hard. He studied his ass off; spent all his free time researching. He did absolutely everything in his power to ensure his acceptance into UA’s training program.
He’d known he’d be accepted to the program, but that didn’t stop the rush of excitement that shot through his body the day he actually got accepted. Katsuki knew he was good enough, and having that fact recognized by a program he idolized was gratifying.
Katsuki spent three years training with Crew 1A, and though he hates to admit it, they’re a pretty damn strong bunch. The other crews could hold their own, but against 1A? 1A had it all; brain and brawn wrapped into one squad. Especially Kirishima Eijirou, his first choice to be his copilot.
Kirishima was everything he respected. He was headstrong, passionate, and knew exactly what needed to be accomplished; even if he could be a bit airheaded. Kirishima could get the job done, and he could get the job done well.
Training was a long, merciless feat, but the reward of being deemed one of twelve strong and wise enough to be sent on missions that were quite literally otherworldly made it worthwhile.
The first mission he’ll be sent on with Crew 1A is mostly busy work. He understands that working his way up to captaining meant taking on some of the less exciting jobs, but someone has to do it. He’s still going to be angry about it; 1A is more than capable of handling the more extreme jobs. But he digresses.
Until he works his way up to more thrilling missions, navigating a ship transporting useless cargo planet to planet would have to do. This is only the beginning for him, even if it is frustrating as hell.
Kirishima waits with him at the Skeld’s doors before they head out. Katsuki does a final sweep of the ground below them to be sure they’ve boarded everything that needed to be transported before nodding at him.
Kirishima holds out a red gloved fist. “Ready?”
Katsuki’s victory smile overtakes his face. He bumps his own fist against Kirishima’s. “Hell yeah.”
-
Though the crew had been well trained, the first day ends up being rough.
Katsuki, of course, finishes his daily tasks early on. He’s taken to patrolling the ship, making sure everything goes according to plan. He really doesn’t need anything slowing down their course.
As he walks up on Electrical, he hears Kaminari and Sero complaining loudly about how confusing calibrating the distributor is, to which Katsuki can’t help but offer a handful of colorful insults and something about how they should have paid better fucking attention during training.
Kirishima must have a sixth sense for when the crew is together without him, because minutes after Katsuki shows them how to correctly measure the time and distance in the distributor (rather, he does it for them while they watch), Kirishima finds his way over to the trio, smiling to himself, leaving Katsuki helpless against the rush of affection that floods his chest.
Kirishima slings his arm affectionately around Katsuki’s neck in lieu of a verbal greeting, keen on teasing him the second he can. “Aw, Bakugou, have some sympathy! This stuff doesn’t come easy to the rest of us, man!”
Kaminari nods enthusiastically, throwing his arms up in some dramatic show of despair. “Math is so fucking confusing, dude! I could literally cry if I think about it too long.”
“Yeah, man! Some of that stuff was hard as hell to comprehend,” Sero drawls, flipping through his manual.
Bakugou snatches the book out of his hands, flips to the correct lesson, and plops in his lap. “There’s no point in reading that if it doesn’t make sense to you, y’know.”
Kaminari’s face splits into something wicked. “Well, now that you mention it, maybe we’d know our shit a little better if a certain someone offered to tutor his best friends!”
“Absolutely not,” Katsuki deadpans.
Kaminari sticks out his tongue. “I bet if Kirishima asked, you would! C’mon, Kirishima, I know you don’t remember everything either!”
Well, fuck. He isn’t even wrong. The heat rising up the back of his neck betrays his forced frown. He burrows deep into the neck of his suit to hide it. Still, Katsuki scoffs.
“I mean, I wouldn’t turn down a tutoring session,” Kirishima admits with a sheepish grin. “A refresher course might be nice?”
“Dammit, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki huffs, biting the inside of his cheek hard so nobody notices the ghost of a smile threatening to break through. “Alright, study session in Kirishima and I’s bunk tonight. But if you idiots try to keep me up too late, I’ll kill you.”
“Noted! Thanks, Bakuman, you’re a lifesaver!” Kaminari coos, poking at Katsuki’s cheek, making the blond roughly smack his hand away.
“Don’t make me change my mind, Dunce!” Katsuki threatens, but even he knows there’s a lack of heat behind it.
Kirishima snorts beside him, waiting for Kaminari and Sero to bounce out of the room to tease him about getting soft. Bakugou sucks his teeth. Kirishima’s wrong, of course. He’s not getting soft. He just doesn’t want to fucking die on this ship at the hands of Tweedledee and Tweedledum. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he copies down color-coded notes for each of them to pin in their own bunk.
-
The rest of the crew pulls their shit together about a week in.
Ashido, Kaminari, and Sero still seek him out for help more often than not, but once he not-so-gently reminds them how to do the jobs that they trained three years to do, they do good work.
Aside from them, everyone else sets off to do their jobs without too much complaint. Everything is going according to plan.
Until now.
Every room and every hallway flashes red, sirens blaring obnoxiously in their ears. Those working on their jobs step out of the rooms, looking for the source, slightly panicked. Katsuki takes it upon himself to step in.
“Don’t flip out, morons. It’s probably a faulty reaction to Sparky's wire check; he worked on them today. I’m going to check it out now. Chill the fuck out.”
Kaminari shouts an indignant Hey! as Katsuki walks past him, urging the crew to get back to work.
He knows the flashing lights only go off for two reasons: a signifier of the ship’s oxygen depleting or the reactor is overheating. Katsuki makes his way to the reactor first, doing a quick check of it’s circuit board, and all the wires were in place - including the ones directly leading to the sensors that cause the emergency lights sirens to go off. The O2 sensors, then, he tells himself.
Katsuki mentally refreshes his brain on how to fix faulty sensors, but by the time he gets to O2, he realizes he doesn’t need to know how to fix the sensor. He needs to know how to restore the fucking oxygen. Their oxygen levels are steadily depleting, and he needs someone to head to Admin and restore the other end before they’re out of oxygen entirely. And they have about 40 seconds.
“Hey!” he calls into his comm, a touch desperate, “I need one of you shitheads to input a security code in Admin so I can fix the oxygen, quickly. ”
Deku must’ve been nearby, because he pops his head into O2 and asks, “What’s going on, Kacchan?”
“Do you need your ears checked? I need you to go to Admin and input the security code for O2! The code is 01024, go!”
“I’m on it, Kacchan! You can count on me!” Deku squeaks out, sprinting out of the room.
Katsuki sure fucking hopes so.
He inputs the code on his end, waiting a total of seven seconds before Deku puts his in. Once he’s permitted access, he restores the levels of oxygen to their normal, safe state. The breath Katsuki was holding leaves in a rush, grateful he has enough safe air to be able to do so.
Katsuki stomps out of O2, finding his way to the rest of the crewmates who’d been waiting anxiously to know what’s going on. He gives them the rundown of the malfunctions, warning everyone (that means you, Dunce) to double check their work before they’re done so shit like this doesn’t happen again.
Katsuki turns to head back to the Navigation quarters when Kaminari jogs up to him. He opens his mouth to speak, but Katsuki puts a hand up to stop him. “Don’t bother, it’s fine. Just be more careful so you don’t get us all killed.”
“Bakugou, that’s the problem. I know I did those wires right,” he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the cheat-sheet Katsuki had made for him and Sero. “I bring this with me every time. I know I did those wires perfectly. Red to red, blue to blue, yellow to yellow—”
“Alright, alright! I fucking get it. But obviously you screwed something up, even if you didn’t notice. It’s whatever, shit happens.”
Kaminari huffs, frustrated. “No, Bakugou, you’re not listening—”
Katsuki’s patience is wearing. “Spit it the hell out, then!”
“I’m saying I didn’t screw up the wires, but somebody did!”
Katsuki freezes. That’s a bold accusation, even for Kaminari, and he lets him know as much.
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. I’m just saying, I know I did the wires properly, and I know you check the ship every night. If nothing was out of place, then it’s possible. Think about it, dude,” he tells him before bouncing out of the room.
Kaminari’s right. Katsuki knows this ship’s model inside and out. He’s the one that examines the ship every morning and every night. He knows there is never a single thing out of place before he locks up and retreats back to his bunk. Which means Kaminari’s guess as to what happened probably isn’t that far off.
-
Not even days later, the emergency lights are flashing again in some kind of warning that Katsuki rushes to decode. This time their oxygen levels are fine, but the reactor wasn’t regulating properly; it’s overheating fast.
What the fuck is going on, he thinks as he frantically wipes his palm on his suit before placing it flat on the scanner. This doesn’t make any goddamn sense!
He’s the only one in the room, and he can’t get both done at once. He doubts anyone else knows exactly how to fix this, so Katsuki quickly grabs hold of his comm and grits, “Will one of you morons get the fuck in here and stabalize the other end of the reactor before this goddamn heap of metal melts a hole through the bottom of our ship?!”
Kirishima’s voice comes through immediately, thoroughly panicked. “Where is that again, man? I’m coming, just tell me where to go!”
Katuski resists the urge to scream back about the literal hours they spent at UA going over the ways to fix everything that could go wrong on the ship before they even got here. He can’t waste any time being frustrated about shit that won’t matter if they’re dead. “Remember where security is? It’s directly across the way, just get the hell on with it!”
“On my way, dude!”
Kirishima barrels in about ten seconds later, eyes wild. “Bakugou! What do I need to do?”
Really, Katsuki’s going to burst a blood vessel at this point. “Put your fucking hand on the scanner! We went over this!”
“Right, right! Got it!” Kirishima yelps, slapping his hand on the scanner. It takes a second, but the scanners recognize their handprints and the reactor resets to its normal state. Kirishima’s shoulders relax, looking happy to be of help. He looks over to Katsuki, eyebrow raised in question.
Katsuki’s lip curls a bit. “Took you long enough, Red.”
Kirishima shoves him, laughing. “It’s not my fault the ship is huge!”
Katsuki rolls his eyes, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He’s still confused to hell as to why the Skeld ’s basic functions are suddenly flaking out.
Kirishima tugs at his sleeves to get his attention, his doe eyes blown with concern. “You okay?”
Katsuki brushes him off, making to walk past him. “Yeah, ‘m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
A hand on his wrist stops him in his tracks. “That was scary as hell, bro. I didn’t know what to do.”
“You idiots are lucky I’m here, then,” he tells him, walking away again.
“Would you stop leaving, man? I’m trying to talk to you,” Kirishima calls after him. Katsuki grunts in acknowledgement, turning on his heel to face him once more.
“Can you teach me more about how the ship works?”
“Seriously?” Katsuki questions, incredulous.
“I never bothered to learn that stuff as intensely as you did… I learned what I needed to for the exams and forgot about it right after. I never thought it’d be necessary,” Kirishima confesses with a shrug. “But if something like today happens again, I want to know how to help.”
A teasing smirk split Katsuki’s face. “And this isn’t some elaborate excuse to hang out with me more?”
Kirishima positively flushes. Score. “No, c’mon, dude! I’m being serious! Can you teach me? Please?”
He’s cute as hell with his sincere puppy eyes, genuinely wanting to be of some help when things go wrong. How is Katsuki supposed to say no to him? “Fine, Shitty Hair. Hope you’re ready to hit the books every night.”
Kirishima sighs dreamily. “Almost like old times.”
“Yeah,” Katsuki agrees.
Almost.
-
“Is anyone there? Tsu’s hurt! We’re in Shields! ” Uraraka screams into the comm, causing Katsuki to turn down the volume.
He’s finishing up charting their course before heading down, finding that most of the crew had already made their way there.
To say Tsuyu had been hurt was the understatement of a fucking century. The front of her spacesuit was torn to shreds. She looks vaguely like a victim on one of those shows he’s seen during Shark Week. Her signature lime green suit is soaked in her blood, and if Katsuki got any closer, he’s sure he’d see her internal organs.
Katsuki takes a mental headcount of his crew, making sure they’re safe. Soy Sauce, Dunce, Racoon Eyes are all here… Where the fuck is Kirishima?
Uraraka has Tsuyu’s head resting in her lap while Todoroki checks for any signs of a pulse. Katsuki watches on as Todoroki checks her neck, then her wrist. He repeats his motions twice, but Katsuki knows she’s gone. Todoroki finally looks back at Uraraka and shakes his head, and the room goes silent.
After a few long, tense moments, Kaminari’s the first to speak. “We need to figure out who did this, before the rest of us get killed, too,” he tells them.
“You think… that somebody did this,” Todoroki says slowly.
“Are you kidding me? Do you even see Tsu’s body?” Kaminari quips. “Not to mention all the fucking malfunctions we’ve been dealing with! Somebody is definitely doing this; this was not an accident.”
Todoroki thinks for a moment. “That’s not the worst assumption you’ve had.”
“What do we do? ” Sero asks.
“We could always leave in escape pods,” Mina answers.
“There’s only four escape pods, we can’t all fit in those!” Uraraka snaps.
“Why can’t we just detain them until we get to Polus?”
Katsuki can’t listen to this bullshit much longer. “You’re all so fucking stupid,” he finally says. “Don’t you think someone smart enough to make the vital functions on the ship act up is also smart enough to escape?”
Sero shifts his weight from foot to foot, before deciding to speak up again. “If… If there is a murderer on board, maybe we can send them back to Earth in an escape pod and let the authorities deal with them. We weren’t trained for this shit.”
“Everybody should stay calm,” Iida says authoritatively. “Let’s gather some information before we start making accusations. If we have enough to go off on, we can send that person back to Earth to be detained.”
“Brilliant idea, Iida. Who was alone today?” Yaoyorozu asks.
Mina chimes in, “I mean, I walked past Midoriya, but that was the only time I saw him. Other than that I’ve been alone, but I didn’t see Tsu anywhere before…” She doesn’t have to finish her sentence.
“Wait, what?” Deku asks her. “I haven’t seen you once, Ashido.”
“Uh, yes you did? Remember, I walked past you while you were letting out the trash.”
“I don’t recall that at all,” Deku replies, scratching at his head. “I don’t want to clear you without evidence. For all we know, it could’ve been you, and you want to use me as your alibi.”
Katsuki feels his blood boil and he sees red.
“Yeah? Well maybe it’s a member of your fucking nerd-herd, Deku, ” he barks, standing in front of his crew.
He feels a hand on his shoulder, and he jumps a bit before looking behind him and seeing Kirishima. When the fuck did he get here? The hand on his shoulder drags up and down the length of his arm in an attempt to get him to relax. He doesn’t care how he got here, but he’s sure as shit glad that he is. Katsuki takes a deep breath. “I’ve been with all of these dumbasses every day, so there’s no way any of them did this. Keep her name out of your filthy goddamn mouth, or you’ll regret it.”
Todoroki sticks his arm in front of Deku, gently pushing the smaller boy behind him. “Quick to accuse, aren’t you, Bakugou? If anything, you’re the most aggressive one on the ship. I’d watch your tone.”
Uraraka glares at him from behind Todoroki. “Isn’t it obvious who did this? There’s only one person on this ship I’d pin as ‘capable of murder’, and it sure isn’t Deku.”
“That’s not entirely fair,” Shinsou says. Everyone turns to stare at him, including Katsuki. Shinsou has never gotten along well with Katsuki; quick to antagonize him and point out his flaws. “Shouldn’t we be looking at facts rather than personalities?”
Katsuki’s pretty stunned, but when he takes a quick look around the room, he notices Shinsou had stuck close to him and his crew. He’s surprised to admit to himself that he’s relieved; Shinsou has proven time and time again that he has more than a few brain cells. “He’s abrasive, sure, but I don’t think that necessarily means he’s a murderer.”
Katsuki turns back to him and nods in thanks. He redirects his attention to the Half ‘n Half shithead in front of him. “You want to blame me? Fucking fine. Send me out this early and see how far you get. You wouldn’t last two goddamn days without me.”
“I think it’s too soon to tell. I have my own suspicions, of course,” Momo starts, shooting a quick, unsubtle glance at Katsuki before looking back to Todoroki. “Ochako said there was nobody around. We don’t want to accuse innocent people. We need to take our time here,” Yaoyorozu says. Iida nods beside her.
Uraraka scoffs, wiping at her teary eyes. “So, what, we just let this murderer roam free? And risk the rest of our lives? I don’t know about you guys, but one dead is enough for me to start throwing people out.”
“Uraraka, I grew up with Kacchan. That’s not the kind of person he is,” Midoriya starts softly. “Believe me, I know how frustrating this is. But we want to bring as many people home as possible. That can’t happen if we don’t think this through.”
“Bottom line is that we don’t know enough right now. For all we know, it could’ve been a freak accident.” Katsuki doubts that. “Stick together, and we’ll be in contact with Aizawa as soon as we can.”
The crew agrees, nodding stiffly before dispersing. Katsuki and his crew head to he and Kirishima’s bunk, silencing weighing heavy on them.
Ashido breaks the silence surrounding them. “So, now what?”
“We should just turn around and go back,” Sero replies. “It’s not safe to stay out here.”
“Dumbass,” Katsuki growls out, “we’re stuck out here. Don’t you get it? Whoever it is waited until we got out far enough that it won’t matter whether we turn around or not. They’re not stupid, that’s for goddamn sure. We’re the same distance from home as we are from that shithole Polus.”
“We’re trapped, then,” Kirishima concludes, picking the skin at his nails. A nervous habit, Katsuki recognizes. He gently pulls Kirishima’s right hand away from the left.
“Not trapped,” Katsuki informs him. “We’ll be fine. Don’t go off on your own, take shifts when sleeping. We’ll be on land soon, just don’t do anything stupid.”
“Right. We got this,” Kaminari tries, but it’s weak. “C’mon, guys, let’s head out. It’s past Bakubro’s bedtime.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Katuski bites back, causing the group to laugh a little on their way out of their room, clinging to the pieces of normalcy they have. Shinsou flicks out their light before bidding them goodnight.
“Where the hell were you earlier?” Katsuki asks the minute the door closes.
Kirishima inspects his nail beds. “Oh, I was finishing up in Admin before heading over.”
Katsuki squints his eyes.
“Aw, were you worried about me?” Kirishima teases.
“You’re a dick,” Katsuki claims, shoving him. “‘Course I was. Don’t be stupid.”
Kirishima’s teasing smirk fades, falling into something much softer. “Hey, you can sleep first. You look exhausted.”
“Fuck you, I’m fine. Sleep.”
Kirishima sighs. “Seriously, dude. I know you’re more worried than you’re letting on. Rest for now. It’s been a long day.”
Katsuki wants to protest further, but Kirishima’s an unbreakable wall of stubbornness when he makes up his mind. He gives in, begrudgingly laying down and squeezing his eyes shut. Without the other idiots in the same room, there’s no way in hell he’s falling asleep tonight.
Kirishima tangles his fingers in his hair, and Katsuki tries to ignore the way he sniffles in the darkness. He’s never been good at ignoring Kirishima, though, so he flips around and faces him, blindly reaching for his free hand. Kirishima reaches out, helping Katsuki find his way and intertwines their fingers. Kirishima’s grip is tight, desperate, but solid. Katsuki drifts in and out of sleep, but every time he gains consciousness, Kirishima’s hand is still clasping onto his own.
-
“How are you so good at everything,” Kirishima whines when he’s out of moves on their checker board for the fifth game in a row.
Katsuki huffs out a laugh. “Not as easy as it looks.”
Kirishima drops the pitiful amount of black checkers he’d collected into Katsuki’s waiting palm, impatient for the next game to start.
“Show me how to win, then,” Kirishima goads.
Katsuki snorts, setting the board up for another game. “You want me to teach you how to beat me?”
“Well, yeah! Is it even fun for you if there’s no real challenge?”
“You’re right for once,” Katsuki responds. “But I thought you wanted to study?”
“We’ve been studying every night , dude! One night of checkers won’t kill us.”
“It might, if something goes wrong and you can’t fix it because you wanted to play a shitty game instead of study,” Katsuki chides.
“Dude!”
“Alright, alright. Fine. Come here, you’ll see the moves better.”
Kirishima beams, making his way quickly to Katsuki’s side of the table. He makes himself at home, tucking himself under Katsuki’s right arm so Katsuki can still use his left. He ignores the heat in his cheeks in favor of explaining his movements to Kirishima.
“Your problem is that you always trap yourself trying to play it safe,” he explains, moving the pieces in a mock game. “If you want to win, you have to stay in the middle and fucking dominate it.”
Kirishima blinks owlishly at him. “But doesn’t playing defensively save you pieces?”
Katsuki continues moving pieces on the opposite side of the board, setting them up the way Kirishima typically does. “No, look. If you corner yourself that early on,” he demonstrates, “you’ll run out of moves before you even have a damn chance; your pieces only have one place to go.”
Once the mock opponent’s pieces are cornered, he moves them towards the middle. Kirishima scoots closer, somehow, and lays his head heavily in the crook of Katsuki’s neck, lashes tickling him as they flutter sleepily. He stills, just briefly, before moving slowly as to not jostle him.
“After you corner yourself, you still have to make a move, even if it’s shitty. Watch,” he says, voice still husky but softer. He pulls the red pieces from their corners and drags them into the middle. “Now, you’re left completely in the open, and I can steal all of those checkers while making my way to your side of the board to king them.”
Katsuki makes a triple jump, stealing three of the red pieces. “It’s a lot fuckin quicker to take three at a time and it usually intimidates the shit out of whoever you’re playing.”
Kirishima looks up at him, eyes droopy. “You’re so smart, dude. And strong. And cool.”
“And you’re an idiot.” Katsuki meets his gaze, their faces a lot closer than he realized. Kirishima gnaws at his lip, his own gaze moving from Katsuki’s eyes to his mouth.
Katsuki doesn’t comprehend that he’s leaning closer to Kirishima’s face until the static of their comms breaks them out of their trance. “I found a body in the lower engine,” Uraraka’s voice comes. “I think we should meet in the cafeteria in ten minutes to discuss what we’re gonna do next.”
Kirishima looks wide awake, now, and jerks his head away from Katsuki’s. With red cheeks and a bit of reluctance, he leaves his place from under Katsuki’s arm.
“So. Tsuyu’s death wasn’t an accident,” Kirishima says.
Katsuki puts on a brave face, unwilling to worry Kirishima anymore than he already appears to be. “Looks that way.”
“Who do you think it is?”
Katsuki himself is trying not to think about it until he absolutely has to. “Dunno.”
“D’ya think it’s…” Kirishima trails off.
Katsuki fights the wave of nausea that hits him at the question. He shakes his head, pushing the thoughts far out of his mind. “Nah. They’re smarter than they look. They're okay.”
Kirishima nods, mostly to himself. “Guess we should, uh, go then, huh?” he asks nervously. He doesn’t move from the booth.
“Yeah. Let’s go, Red,” Katsuki encourages, pulling the hair at the back of his neck gently.
They arrive late, it seems, seeing as the conversation is in full swing by the time they make their way into the cafeteria.
“Uraraka, to be honest with you, I don’t trust you. This is the second time you’ve ‘found’ a dead crewmate,” Sero accuses, crossing his arms. Katsuki notices his eyes are red-rimmed and puffy.
“Yeah, man, that’s some weird activity,” Kaminari adds, steadily streaming tears smudging his once-perfect eyeliner.
“Where was the body again?”
“I found Ashido’s body when I was going to fix the wires in Electrical,” she sniffs.
Ashido.
Ashido.
He hears Kirishima inhale sharply, leaning into Katsuki heavily. He fists a hand in the back of Kirishima’s suit, grip so tight he worries briefly that he’s going to rip it. Kirishima’s breaths are audible, short and choppy gasps of air that he tries to keep quiet. Katsuki lets go of his suit in favor of pulling Kirishima closer to him and tucking him under his arm.
Losing Ashido hurts more than he cares to focus on, having to bite hard on the inside of his cheeks to refrain from a physical reaction. Seeing Kaminari and Sero in tears and struggling to put together sentences already makes him twitch, but Kirishima? Watching Kirishima break down before him at the loss of her is more than he can handle. His hand reaches up subtly into red, gelled hair, scratching absentmindedly in an attempt to comfort him. He silently coaxes Kirishima into sitting down in case his knees give out and continues combing through his hair, unable to keep his hands off him.
Katsuki doesn’t see a point in useless accusations, even if he is ready to tear someone’s throat out on Ashido’s behalf. Instead, he watches.
He watches Deku and Iida, who appear to be struggling with decision making, but Todoroki looks sure of himself. He stands tall, hovering close behind his friends in order to keep an eye on them; like if he loses sight of them, they’ll disappear. Katsuki knows the feeling.
He watches Kaminari and Sero bring up unimportant events as a means of evidence against others.
He watches Kirishima. Kirishima... looks odd. Distant, in a way. His gaze is empty as he stares through the window, sitting quietly through their impromptu meeting. Katsuki suspects he’s dazed by the turn of events and taking it all in. He’d just lost a childhood best friend; a girl he’d known his whole life. Kirishima had never expected this mission to turn out the way it did, never expected to lose someone so close to him on this seemingly basic mission. None of them had.
He continues to scan the room, eyes landing on Deku again, who separated from his group to frantically jot down where everyone was. He’s sketching a rough outline of the mapping of the ship, drawing out where each person claimed to be when the body was found. Katsuki squints down at his notebook, small symbols and underlined words making absolutely no sense to him. He’ll have to ask about that later.
Finding nothing out of the ordinary just yet, he keeps his mouth shut. When he tunes back into the conversation happening around him, it seems the group has come to a decision.
“Let’s take a vote, then,” Iida says, standing up. “Those who believe the murderer to be Uraraka, please raise your hand.”
It’s slow, at first. Sero and Kaminari glance at each other before raising their hands together, fine with being the first to do so. After a few moments, Iida raises a hand, followed by Deku and Todoroki. Kirishima bites at his nails, but otherwise doesn’t make a move to raise his hand as a vote. Uraraka looks around the room in disbelief, as if daring one person to break the tie. Her jaw drops when Momo raises her hand.
“You can’t all be serious? Of course it isn’t me! I found the bodies and reported them!” she shrieks.
“How do we know you didn’t kill them and ‘report’ the bodies so you’d throw suspicion off yourself?” Kaminari throws back. It’s the first rational conclusion Katsuki’s ever seen him come up with, but he still thinks it’s too soon to tell.
Uraraka is taken to the dropship in handcuffs, screaming her head off about how they’re wrong, that they’re making a mistake, that they’re all going to die if they send her off, but it’s too late. The crew had made their decision.
Katsuki watches behind the safety of the window as the doors are opened, sending Uraraka out in the first ejection pod. He hopes that this is the first and last time they’ll have to send someone out. They just need to make it to Polus without any more bodies.
-
Making his way from task to task silently has become a priority for him, wanting to listen in and watch the others without appearing suspicious. With all the technical issues going on, he’s taken to quietly watching others in case anyone tries to fuck with his ship. So he isn’t all that surprised that Kirishima doesn’t even turn around when he quietly pads into Electrical.
What does surprise him is Kirishima, fully suited up, expertly taking the wires apart that Katsuki had put together yesterday.
Katsuki backs out as swiftly as he stepped in, back to the wall and chest rising and falling rapidly. He has to be seeing shit. It can’t be Kirishima. Kirishima, his righthand man and best fucking friend, could not be the one responsible for jeopardizing the livelihood of Crew 1A.
Back still on the wall, he turns his head to get another glimpse inside. Maybe he screwed up the wires and Kirishima’s fixing them? He ignores the part of his brain that screams You know wires better than anyone on this ship.
But Katsuki had seen correctly. He always did. That is for sure a red spacesuit frantically ripping out the wires from their placement, sparks flying out from every which way. Katsuki whips his head back around and books it to an isolated area, finding himself cornered in a deadend at Shields.
He doesn’t know what to do, where to go, who the fuck he can trust anymore. He's resting his hands on his knees, bent over and sucking in big gulps of air when Kirishima finds him. He’s towering over Katsuki, helmet in his hands, now. His smile fades from his face when he sees the state the blond is in.
“...Bakugou?” he asks, and Katsuki waits. They’re alone, and he knows it’s Kirishima. So he waits. Mentally prepares himself to die on this god awful ship where it will take who knows how long for another crewmate to find his body and ponder over who killed him.
Kirishima reaches down, and Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut hard. He wants to scream but he can’t, all that leaves his throat is another desperate attempt for air. “Katsuki, breathe. You’re okay, man, I’m here.”
What the fuck. Kirishima unzips his suit at the front, taking Katsuki’s hand and pressing it into his abdomen, taking exaggerated breaths of air and encouraging Katsuki to imitate them. Why isn’t he killing me, it’s just us, why isn’t he killing me—
“Hey, hey. Breathe with me, dude,” Kirishima tells him, though it still sounds fuzzy. Katsuki shakes his head, weakly trying to push away. It’s a futile effort, though, as Kirishima rests his hands on the arms lightly shoving at him. Even through his feeble protests, he manages to breathe easier with Kirishima’s direction. “There you go.”
Katsuki is so fucking confused and he can't fucking breathe and why is Kirishima helping him—
“C’mon, let’s get you to our bunk,” Kirishima suggests gently, guiding Katsuki away from Shields. Katsuki still wants to shove him away again, knows he should call a meeting right fucking now, but instead he finds his feet easily following Kirishima’s lead.
Kirishima shuts the door behind them, flicking the fan on to cool Katsuki’s clammy skin. Kirishima sits him down in bed, propping pillows up beside him and making sure Katsuki stays sitting with his back against the headboard so he doesn’t choke on broken breaths.
Kirishima hesitates for a second, scared to agitate Katsuki while he gets his footing, but he still can’t help but break the silence. “You freaked me out a bit back there, man. Has that happened before?” Kirishima asks, shoving an uncapped bottle of water in his hand. “Drink. It’ll help a bit.”
Not even an hour ago, he was petrified that Kirishima was going to kill him. But now he’s leaning into Kirishima’s touch as he holds an ice pack to the base of his neck. What is he doing? He knows Kirishima is responsible for the sabotages. He knows Kirishima has killed two people— one of which being his own childhood friend. So why is it so hard for Katsuki to convince himself to grab the comm off his shoulder and tell the others what he saw?
He trusts Kirishima more than he should given the current circumstances, and he’s quick to answer him with honesty. “Yeah. Happens when I feel trapped.”
Kirishima’s face contorts in concern. “Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t need to be babied,” Katsuki rushes out. “You’ve done more than enough, moron.” He knows Kirishima will know what he really means.
“Can I touch you?” Kirishima asks. He shouldn’t indulge in this; he’s treading dangerous waters as it is. But Kirishima’s made it clear he isn’t going to hurt him.
With Katsuki’s nod of approval, Kirishima climbs into bed beside him. His arm slings an arm over Katsuki's torso, a motion that feels as natural as breathing. His hand traces unintelligible patterns along his back, lulling him to sleep quicker than he can recall falling asleep since boarding Skeld.
Kirishima may be the one terrorizing the crew, but Katsuki still can’t help but feel like he’s safe in his hold.
-
Katsuki thinks keeping a very close eye on Kirishima could potentially hurt his opportunity to catch people alone, or at least slow them down until they return home. So he finds himself accompanying Kirishima absolutely everywhere he goes. Since Momo had suggested sticking in groups, it’s easier to use that as an excuse.
Ponytail thinks it’s safest. She may be annoying, but she isn’t stupid, Katsuki had told him. Besides, someone has to look out for you, Hair for Brains.
He can tell Kirishima is torn between being excited to spend more one-on-one time with Katsuki and not having any time to himself. Katsuki tries his best not to dwell on the real reason he wants to be left alone, sometimes.
“I hate download day,” Kirishima complains on their way to Communications. “They take forever! I thought technology was supposed to be advanced in this day and age!”
“Quit yappin’ and get to it, then,” Katsuki replies easily.
Kirishima grumbles something unintelligible and fiddles with the hard drive before inputting a few codes.
Katsuki figures he should inspect the computers because Kirishima was right; downloads do take a while. He makes his way to the computer on the right side of the room, then the middle, before winding up on the left. He hears a muffled conversation through the wall and shortly identifies the owners of the voices.
“I did! I told Bakubro someone was fucking with the ship! I don’t know who, but I so called this. But he didn’t believe me! He just thinks I’m some kind of idiot,” Kaminari declares.
Fair point, Katsuki thinks. Still, he grimaces.
“You’re more perceptive than you get credit for, Denki,” Shinsou agrees quietly.
Katsuki can imagine the dopey grin on Kaminari’s face. “Thanks, dude. You’re pretty analytical, yourself. I’m sure you’ve got some ideas on who it is!”
“Realistically? I think it’s Kirishima,” Shinsou tells him. “Just based on everything I’ve seen and heard. But it’s too early to tell, probably.”
Katsuki turns to look at Kirishima, who has stopped paying attention to his download entirely. If he can hear this, there’s no way Kirishima can’t.
Kaminari doesn’t respond for a moment. “What?”
Shinsou sighs before admitting, “I know he’s your friend, maybe even your best friend, but nothing is impossible. I just want you to be safe.”
Though the conversation had been fairly hushed and distant, the way Kirishima’s shoulder’s tense lets Katsuki know that he had heard them too. Regardless, Kirishima fiddled with the computer in front of him. Kirishima’s head is turned as he tries to see who exactly is in Storage, but Katsuki jumps to block his line of vision by following his eyes with his own body.
Leaning heavily against the doorframe, he tries to distract Kirishima from anything else they might say. “D’ya know what data is on the download for this week?”
“Huh?” Kirishima eyes him up and down, searching for an answer that Katsuki hopes he doesn’t find. “Oh, yeah. It’s just the most recent issues with Skeld and a rundown of the— uh. The lost crewmates.”
“Right,” he says. Katsuki has an ugly feeling that he knows what the next report is going to look like.
-
Katsuki is never wrong, but he almost hoped he would be, this time around. He finds Shinsou dead in a pool of his own blood days later. He freezes for a minute, pinching his own forearm hard fucking praying he wakes up from a nightmare.
He doesn’t.
Shinsou is really dead. And he’s the sorry fucker that has to tell everyone.
“Body in O2,” he grits into his comm. “Meeting in five.”
The crewmates filter into the cafeteria slowly. They look around, anxiously waiting to see who doesn’t show up. When all seven remaining crewmates arrive, Kaminari tilts his head.
“No,” Kaminari starts, smiling a little. “No, c’mon, Bakugou. Where is he? Is this a joke? Because it isn’t funny,” he’s laughing, panicked. Bakugou tightens his jaw and shakes his head.
“Denki. I’m sorry,” he tells him. He turns his head, unable to watch as Kaminari laughter dissolves into violent sobs. Kaminari’s a crier by nature— movies, music, even commercials made him choke up. But this? Katsuki’s never seen him like this.
Kaminari can’t even hold himself up, body slumped against the table with his head in his arms as he wails at his loss. Kirishima sits on his hands, tears blurring his vision with every gasp of air their friend chokes on. Sero’s eyes are misty, too, as he’s forced to watch Kaminari unravel. He wraps his arm around him, hand brushing through his Kaminari’s hair as the usual questions arise.
Katsuki looks up at the ceiling, willing the heat behind his eyes to stop because he refuses to give away any of his emotions during these meetings. He has to calm down, lest anyone take notice that his tears are those of guilt. He has to focus on keeping he and Kirishima’s names out of the conversation. The blood pulsing in his ears makes it difficult to hear, but when he does relax enough to hear the conversation, he wishes he hadn’t.
“Kirishima’s been pretty quiet during our meetings,” Sero brings up hesitantly. “I’m not saying that means he’s been hurting people. It’s just an observation.”
All the blood in Katsuki’s body rushes to his head. No fucking way.
Iida nods in agreement. “I feel as though he’d have more to say if he weren’t.”
No fucking way are they getting rid of Eijirou.
The crew is watching Kirishima expectantly, waiting for a defense that Katsuki knows he can’t come up with. To anyone else on the ship, he appears to be gathering his thoughts calmly, but Katsuki knows better. Kirishima’s panicking. And he knows that panic makes him even more susceptible to criticism from the rest of the crew. Kirishima’s cornered himself, but he still has to make a move. Even if it’s shitty.
Unless.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Katsuki sees Kirishima snap his head over to look up at him in awe. He keeps his tone low and menacing, leaving no room for any survivors from the hellfire he’s about to breathe.
“Bakugou,” Todoroki starts, eyes cold, “You can’t play favorites right now. We all know you’re close, but it’s not fair to endanger the crew to protect your friend.”
“No, shut the fuck up ,” Katsuki snarls. “I’ve been with Kirishima every fucking day, all fucking day. This isn’t a matter of what you think! This is a life or death situation, so if you’re going to point your sweaty fucking fingers at someone, you better have some goddamn solid proof!”
God, he’s a liar, he’s such a fucking liar, but he has to do something. He wipes his sweaty palms on his suit before reaching down and offering his hand for a panic-struck Kirishima to hold on to.
He whips his head around to address the other half of the table. “Do any of you motherfuckers have any evidence against Kirishima other than ‘he’s been quiet’?”
They’re all staring back at him in shock. Embarrassment. Fine by him. Anything to get them off their backs.
“I didn’t fucking think so. Maybe you should all think before you shove another innocent crewmate off the ship.” It’s a low blow, he knows, but it gets the job done.
He looks down to Kirishima, who can’t even choke out a response. He just clings tighter to Katsuki’s hand while his tears blind his vision. Despite the anger coursing through his veins, Katsuki finds himself soothing his thumb over the back of it.
“I suppose you have a point, Bakugou. We all still carry heavy bouts of guilt after sending out Uraraka,” Momo replies sullenly, shooting Kirishima a soft smile. “Has Kirishima genuinely given any of you a reason to believe he’s the killer?”
Quiet murmurs of disagreements fall over the group.
“Right. We need to stop turning on each other, or we’re never going to make it out of here.” Momo turns to Deku, prompting him to speak.
“Let’s call it a night,” Deku suggests, chancing a glance at Katsuki. “Everyone’s amped up, we had a long day. We should focus on recharging and talking about this when everyone is in a better headspace.”
Katsuki gives him a short nod, just a tilt of his head, but it’s enough for Deku to get the message. He sends him a shaky smile.
Katsuki’s got Kirishima up and on his feet before he can even comprehend that he’s hauling him to their room, locking the door behind them. He rests his head on the door and takes three slow, shaky breaths.
“Katsuki, I should—”
“Don’t, Ei,” he replies, still breathing hard through his nose. He flips over so his back is to the door and reaches up to grab a fistful of red locks, pulling Kirishima’s face close to his own. “Just… don’t.”
Kirishima nods, wincing when the motion makes Katsuki tug on his hair. His mouth opening and closing, trying to find the right words before deciding there are none. He looks at Katsuki’s face, trying to decipher his unreadable expression. Katsuki shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but some unseeable force convinces him to pull Kirishima the rest of the way to connect their lips.
Katsuki kisses him hard, entirely teeth. It shouldn’t be even remotely enjoyable, but Katsuki groans in relief. Kirishima whines, kissing him back just as desperately, both amped up from the heaviness of the last meeting. Kirishima’s hands grip tightly at the undone zipper of his suit, pulling him as close as the bulky material will allow.
Kirishima pulls away with a gasp. “Katsuki?”
“Hm?” Katsuki grunts, nipping at his jaw and relishing in the gasp Kirishima lets out in return.
Kirishima shoves at his chest gently. “What does this mean?”
Katsuki considers this for a moment. What does this mean? He cares about Kirishima, that much is obvious to him, but he knows he’s only digging his own grave deeper. He knows good and well what Kirishima is capable of. So he'll leave it up to fate. “Whatever you want it to mean.”
Kirishima isn’t satisfied. “What do you want it to mean?”
“What the hell do you want it to mean?”
“You’re so stubborn, bro,” Kirishima says through a small smile before continuing, “All I know is I want to be around you, like, all the time. I want to watch you achieve the greatness you’re meant for, but I also want to succeed with you. Obviously I want to kiss you. A lot,” he admits with warm cheeks. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I really like you. And I want to be yours.”
That settles it, then. “Then that’s what this means.”
“Is that what you want, too?”
“Yeah,” he finally says. “It is.”
It’s the truth. Katsuki doesn’t know if he should be more scared of the scorpions that fill his stomach or the devil in disguise before his eyes.
-
The more crewmates they lose, the more Katsuki’s days start to blur together. All he can piece together are meetings and moments with Kirishima. He stares intensely at the ceiling, trying to remember who else in Crew 1A is left.
Communications were down, and Kaminari had been the first to make his way down; it’s what he knew best. But Iida had watched Kaminari walk past Todoroki and Momo’s mangled bodies right outside the hallway of Communications, and called for a meeting the second they’re back up; letting the crew know what he’d seen.
“Wait, what? Communications were down! How the hell is it my fault you called the meeting before I could report the bodies?”
“It just doesn’t look good, Kaminari. We need to prioritize the safety of our crewmates. Right now, you’re the most suspicious.”
Sero tried to fight for him, but it was too late. Katsuki usually stayed out of voting, but this time he had a reason. Sending Kaminari out would keep him alive; even if would get him detained for who knows how long.
So when Iida had asked, “All in favor of voting out Kaminari?” Katsuki didn’t hesitate to raise his hand along with Iida and Deku.
Sending Kaminari out had been brutal. He shudders remembering the screams Kaminari had let out while he pounded on the window of his pod, begging the crew to reconsider as he dry heaved. But at the very least, he’s going to live. That’s all that matters to Katsuki these days.
After Kaminari had been ejected, Katsuki noticed Sero lazing about his tasks, unmotivated as he’s ever seen. Sero’s a dumbass, but he knew how to handle his own work. Katsuki knew he’d been broken up about Kaminari’s ejection from the ship. Sero was quiet— didn’t even hang around Katsuki and Kirishima anymore, preferring to spend his days watching out the window, like it would bring his best friend back to him.
A false sense of security had fallen over the crew. Iida is one to think things through, and it was easy for the others to feel comfortable with his accusations.
But when the oxygen depleted again, they knew they were wrong. Sero had called for a meeting the moment it was taken care of.
“It wasn’t Kami…” Sero said quietly.
Iida nodded stiffly. “Sero, I’m—”
“It wasn’t Kaminari,” he repeated with more force, standing up. “But you were dead set on sending him out.”
Katsuki watched as Sero slowly but steadily worked up to a rage he’d never seen in the boy before.
Deku gnawed at his bottom lip. He pulled out his notebook and offered his notes to show Sero why Kaminari was plausible at that time, hoping to ease the tension in the room, but Sero wasn’t having it.
“No, I think it was too easy to blame Kaminari for that,” Sero bit out. “Y’know what I think? I think Iida probably saw how perfectly situated Kaminari was, and that it would look like it was his kill rather than Iida’s. He must’ve used Kaminari’s bad judgement to cover his own ass.”
“My kill? You think I did this? How could I have done this when I was in Security the entire time? Do try to be logical before accusing others.”
“Did anyone see Iida watching the security cameras that day?” Deku asked tentatively.
“Maybe it’s time someone else starts the voting,” Sero proposed when nobody could vouch for him. “All in favor of voting Iida?” he mocked Iida’s words from Kaminari’s ejection.
On a vote of 3-to-1, Iida was sent out in an escape pod to be detained with Uraraka and Kaminari.
So, aside from himself, that leaves Deku, Kirishima, and Sero.
Kirishima’s voice shakes him from his thoughts. “Katsuki?” Kirishima calls into the darkness of their room. “Are you okay? You’ve been really quiet.”
Katsuki doesn’t know what ‘okay’ even feels like, anymore.
"I'm sorry," Kirishima tells him.
Katsuki knows he is.
-
“Kacchan?” Deku’s standing in his doorway, hands behind his back and eyes wide.
Katsuki really, really does not have patience for him today. The jobs being split between the few remaining crewmates is really taking a toll on him. He’s bone deep exhausted and the last thing he wants to do is waste any of his free time listening to Deku.
Even so, this has been hard on all of them, and it’s not Deku’s fault that he secretly has it a little harder than the other crewmates. Even Bakugou Katsuki has some compassion. He waves Deku in with the spoonful of peanut butter in his hand before popping it in his mouth.
Deku looks everywhere but at him. “I wanted to talk to you. About something.”
“Speak, then. I don’t have all fucking day,” Katsuki barks around his spoon.
Deku flips to his dog-eared notebook page— the sketch Katsuki remembers. It’s much more detailed than when he had first seen it during the meeting regarding Ashido's death. Deku drags his finger along the bright pink highlighted trail that Katsuki knows is Kirishima’s daily route. He rambles on about how every body that had been found was directly in his path, how Kirishima’s boy next door personality was the reason he was able to get as far as he did without much suspicion, that they have concrete evidence to pin against him.
Fuck that.
“This looks like a bunch of bullshit,” he snaps. “It’s fucking stupid to send out a potential crewmate at this point. We’re almost done with this nightmare, let’s finish what the hell we came to do and be done with it.”
“Kacchan, don’t you think this is enough proof? Isn’t it better to be safe than sorry?”
“No, asshole, I don’t think it is,” he sneers. “Can’t believe you sauntered your ass in here just to tell me that Kirishima is the one fucking killing people. Get a grip. Maybe you’re the one killing people.”
Deku rolls his eyes. “You know I’m not. I just hoped you could get your head out of your ass for two seconds to listen to me.” Katsuki glares at him. “Sorry. I didn’t come here to fight. I just wanted to tell you,” Deku says, sounding a lot like he did when they fought over who got to be All Might when they played Heroes and Villains as kids, frustrated with how the conversation went. Katsuki knows he’s being sincere. “I really, really believe it’s Kirishima.”
“I don’t fucking care what you think, Deku.” He isn’t even lying— he doesn’t. It’s selfish, he knows it is, but he’s not losing Kirishima. “Get the hell out of here.”
-
Katsuki’s getting really fucking tired of finding his friends dead, but he supposes this is the price he pays for not ratting out Kirishima. He speaks quickly into his comm, calling a meeting that he knows isn’t going to be even remotely pleasant.
When he gets to the cafeteria, Deku and Kirishima are already there, desperately avoiding eye contact. Deku is sitting opposite Kirishima, straddling the bench in a manner that makes it clear he’s prepared to run at any moment. The second Katsuki takes his place next to Kirishima, Deku speaks.
“So,” Deku starts, face blank. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while, and with Sero dead it only confirms my theory.”
Kirishima turns his head toward the window, refusing to engage in this conversation. Katsuki knows with one look at him that Kirishima isn’t going to defend himself, so he steps in.
“Don’t start this shit, Deku,” Katsuki warns.
Deku barrels on. “No, Kacchan, it’s ridiculous that it’s gone this far. We have lost six crewmates. What do you think is gonna happen if it’s just you two left, huh? He’s a murderer!”
Kirishima goes stock-still. Like hearing that word about himself is a shock to his system, and his cheeks glisten with silent tears spilling from his eyes.
“Watch your fucking mouth. It’s not him, so let it go,” he seethes.
“You can’t be serious! Look around! It’s not me, and it isn’t you! That leaves one person! And he’s sitting there acting like he doesn’t have any idea what’s been going on! You have to vote!”
Kirishima’s muffling wet whimpers behind his hand, and Katsuki’s had enough of listening to Deku talk about Kirishima.
Katsuki stalks up to him, chin raised in challenge. He takes hold of Deku’s green suit, knuckles cracking in protest at the tight grasp.
“And if I don’t?” he provokes.
“It’ll be your decision, not mine. But I know for a fact that even you know it’s a stupid one.”
“Oh? And how the fuck would you know what I know?”
“Because I know you’re probably too fucking stubborn to admit that you’ve been wrong all this time! I’m sorry, but I’m not going to die because you always have to be right, Kacchan.”
Fucking Deku.
Katsuki lunges across the table, nostrils flared as he aims his fist directly at Deku’s face. Deku’s head flies back, hand shooting up to clutch his nose. When he pulls his hand away and sees blood, he laughs in disbelief.
Flying out of his seat, he takes a hold of Katsuki’s arm and flips him over his shoulder, slamming him into the ground and onto his back. Once he’s down, Deku pins him, holding him in place with his legs.
Deku’s gotten strong, that much he can admit, but Katsuki is stronger. He flips them around using all of his upper body strength so Deku is the one at a disadvantage, hand shoving his face into the cool metal of the ship.
He hears a distant yell of Katsuki!, but he isn’t listening. Not really.
Deku reaches behind him, clawing at whatever his hands can reach. He ends up having decent aim despite not being able to see behind him, landing his hand on Katsuki’s face and digging his nails deep into the skin above his eye, drawing blood.
Katsuki clenches his fingers into the hair on the back of Deku’s head, yanking hard and with purpose, lifting his head about an inch with full intentions to slam his face full force into the floor in front of him.
But there’s arms around him, pulling him up while Deku writhes in pain beneath him. “Dude! Stop, stop!”
Katuski kicks his legs up, trying to free himself of Kirishima’s hold. “Fuck off, Kirishima! He can’t just say that shit about you! Maybe he should’ve been the one to—”
Kirishima drags him across the room, out of Deku’s reach, and tries to calm him down. “Katsuki, don’t say things you’ll regret. I’m fine.”
Guilt floods his chest as he looks back at Deku. Katsuki thinks back on the look on Deku’s face when he came to him the other night. Eyes bright and ready for this nightmare to be over since he'd solved the case. He feels sick remembering the light in his eyes dim once he realized Katsuki wasn’t going to budge. That he was never going to change his mind.
Kirishima’s right. He shouldn’t hurt Deku more than he already has, both physically and mentally.
Katsuki’s still huffing harsh breaths through his nose, but he surrenders, relaxing in Kirishima’s iron grip. “Fine. Let’s just go,” Katsuki tells him.
“I just hope you don’t live to regret this, Kacchan,” Deku spits up at him through his tears when he sees them making their way out.
It’s awful, but Katsuki knows he will. Even if that means Deku won’t.
-
Finding Deku’s body is a lot harder on him than he expected. Katsuki knew it was coming, with just him, Deku, and Kirishima left. He knew it was him or Deku. Seeing him lying bloodied and lifeless still makes his own blood run cold and bile rise in his throat. If things were different, it wouldn’t have had to end like this.
The guilt of their last words to each other fills his lungs and coats his throat, and suddenly he can’t remember how to fucking breathe. Inhale. He could’ve stopped this. Exhale. But he had to protect Kirishima. Inhale. Even if Kirishima is a murderer. Exhale. Katsuki never apologized to him. Inhale. For anything. Exhale.
He sits with Deku’s body, tears of frustration and guilt rolling down his cheeks, chest stuttering with every uneven breath. He drops a gloved hand in blood-matted curls, clutching tightly like it would wake him up. It doesn't. He knew it was going to happen, he knew it had to happen, but that doesn’t ease the ache in his chest.
It’s time. The fantasy he’s conjured up with Kirishima can’t continue anymore. He has to face this.
Katsuki wipes his eyes roughly, trying to pull himself together. He eventually lets go of Deku’s hair to instead take hold of his comm, bringing it close to his face. He inhales harshly through his nose. Releases the breath out through his mouth. Repeats.
He presses down on his comm. “I found him.”
No response.
“Eijirou,” he calls into the device, voice thick, “answer me. I know it’s you. I’ve known for a long fucking time.”
Three beats of silence. Two. Three more. Just as he’s about to keep going, Kirishima’s staticky voice comes through. “You couldn’t have. If you did, then why didn’t you…”
“Because I’ve been selfish. I wasn’t ready to lose you. I don’t think I ever fuckin’ will be. Even now, even after all the shit you did, I still—” he fists his hands into his suit. “I still don’t want to let you go.”
“But why?” Kirishima sounds genuinely distraught. Katsuki can picture the furrow in his brows.
“Do I have to spell everything out for you, dumbass? Can’t you tell by now?” Katsuki laughs, slightly hysterical. “At this point I’ve been a goddamn accomplice to manslaughter by not ratting on you after the shit I’ve seen you do. Have I not made it crystal fucking clear that I would do anything to have you?”
The channel goes dead, after that. Katsuki isn’t sure what he expected. He finally, finally allows the weight of the situation to hit him. He’s in love with Kirishima. Kirishima, who has killed each and every crewmate one by one. Kirishima, who has torn apart the wires and circuit boards to screw with the ship’s functionality. Kirishima, who he is absolutely, completely gone for, is probably going to kill him next.
Katsuki stares at the ground, hard, eyes burning hot. He blinks once, breaking the barrier of tears he’s created by holding his eyes open for so long. He reaches up to wipe the tear that fell, only for three more to take its place.
He doesn’t regret anything, not in the slightest. That doesn’t make this hurt any less. Kirishima is the first person who has ever treated Katsuki like he was more than a ticking time bomb that would explode at any moment. Kirishima made him feel human rather than a machine without limits. And so, despite the hell Kirishima has unleashed on Skeld, he feels so fucking lucky that he got to spend any amount of time feeling loved by him.
He hears the heavy thudding of Kirishima’s boots coming from down the hall. Katsuki scrubs his face harshly, begging himself to stop crying, but his eyes won’t fucking listen to him. He catches a glimpse of his blotchy face in the reflection of Deku's abandoned helmet. Whatever, he’ll be dead in a few minutes anyway, he supposes.
Kirishima stands in the doorway, looking nothing like Katsuki has ever seen before. His hair is disheveled, some chunks stuck together with blood and sweat the way Deku's had been— proof that he'd put up a fight— while others stick straight up as though he had been tugging at it. Crimson blood paints his cheeks and it makes Katsuki nauseous to know exactly who that blood belongs— belonged to. Tear trails are evident in the splattered stains, Katsuki idly wonders if they were tears of regret or tears of dread.
Kirishima won’t meet his eyes, one arm behind his back, the other limp at his side.
As he did when he first knew, Katsuki waits. He waits for Kirishima to come at him with everything he’s got. The silence stretches on for what feels like a lifetime. If Kirishima’s going to kill him here, there’s only one thing he needs to know.
“Did you fake it?”
Kirishima stops breathing.
“Loving me. Did you fake that? Was that all part of your shitty game?” Katsuki demands.
He looks like he’s seen a ghost— unable to force out words. When he is able to compose himself, he replies, “Of course not. Katsuki, I love you. You’re the best person I’ve ever known.”
Katsuki looks down at his feet, watching as fresh tears drip off his nose and plop at his feet. He didn’t think that answer to make him feel worse about this, but it does. Did this mean all of the feelings he had for Kirishima still weren’t enough to change him?
Kirishima finally looks up at him, making eye contact for the first time since he approached him. “You should leave. Take the last pod and go. I’m... dangerous.”
Katsuki swallows hard. “Yeah. I know.”
Kirishima tilts his head a bit. “You’re not scared.”
“Of you, Red? Never.” Katsuki finds that he really isn’t scared. There’s no mask of pride he needs to put on.
“You should be, you really fucking should be—” Kirishima chants, shaking his head furiously, trying to block out the words.
“Well, I’m not, dumbass.” Katsuki stands, dropping his helmet to the ground. “Do your worst.”
“That’s the thing, Katsuki,” he tells him, balling his fists up. “It’s not me, so you should be scared.”
“Fuck do you mean it isn’t you? We’re the only two left, I’ve watched you sabotage the ship a thousand times, and you’re drenched in Deku’s blood right now. Who the hell else would it be?”
Kirishima’s neck twitches. “I don’t have any time left to explain, it’s too late, but you need to hide. Go lock yourself in the vents. But please, please leave until I find you,” Kirishima begs.
Katsuki trusts Kirishima, sure, but Kirishima’s always been a martyr. He isn’t going to let him go through whatever this is alone.
“No. I’m not going anywhere, asshole. I can fucking handle whatever it is.”
Though he’s seen Kirishima do plenty of shady shit, he’s never actually seen his expression when he's after someone. Now that he is face to face with this version of Kirishima, Katsuki understands what he meant. He watches in horror as Kirishima’s eyes go completely black, a shark-toothed grin spreading on his face slowly.
Kirishima laughs something mean and menacing. “You should’ve listened to the boy,” his voice comes. And it sounds like him, but it isn’t Kirishima at all.
Oh, shit.
A parasite. They've learned about these, but were assured plenty of times they weren't going to be a threat. That they're rarely seen in space before they're caught and destroyed. But here they stand, with a flesh-hungry parasite that has latched onto Kirishima and used his body to kill each and every crewmate. It’s all clicking in his head— why Kirishima had seemed so absent during every meeting and refused to accuse anyone else, why his personality never wavered, why he’d always kept his helmet on when doing anything out of the ordinary. But it still doesn’t fucking explain why Katsuki himself has made it this far.
Kirishima’s grin grows wider and wide and wider until all of his teeth are on display, making his face split right at his ears. A long, sharpened tongue sticks out of Kirishima’s throat, aiming for Katsuki. He dodges it quickly, thanking whatever god that watches over him for his fast reflexes, and makes a break for the opposite end of the map.
He pulls open the furthest vent like Kirishima advised him to do earlier and lowers his body down into it. In this tight space, where he has to lay flat on his stomach to fit comfortably, the only sounds Katsuki can hear are the creak of metal on the floors above him and his own heavy breathing. He distantly recalls that these vents don’t have safety locks unless they’re manually screwed in.
He hears the heavy clunk of Kirishima’s boots as the parasite controlling him searches the ship. Katsuki covers his mouth with a sweaty palm to muffle his breathing. It’s uncomfortably hot in the vent— he must be closer to the reactor than he thought— but it’s better than being dead. Still, the sweat dripping from his forehead into his eyes stings, and he can’t help but turn away from the most concentrated source of heat. When he turns, though, his comm falls from it’s place on his shoulder and clatters against the metal.
Fuck.
The screech that leaves the parasite's throat makes the hair stand up on the back of Katsuki’s neck. The footsteps get louder and louder until they’re directly above him, and he holds his breath. It’s quiet. It’s so fucking quiet. And then he hears the scrape of metal being yanked.
Kirishima— no, the imposter in Kirishima’s body reaches down into the vent, trying it's damndest to get a hold of Katsuki. He tries to drag himself through the vent, tries to position himself on his knees to crawl fast enough to get the fuck out of there when he feels a hand on his ankle.
With raw strength, Katsuki is pulled out from his hiding spot. His hands make attempts to claw at the metal for purchase. He thrashes about, trying to get it to loosen it’s hold. It works, and for a split second he thinks he’s free, but a boot to his gut proves him wrong.
“Pathetic,” not-Kirishima says, pressing more of its weight onto Katsuki’s chest.
He’s got nothing to lose at this point. “Hey, douchebag! You always play with your food? If you’re gonna kill me, fucking do it, coward!”
It ignores him. He’s pinned to the ground, Katsuki’s back pressed hard into the metal floorboards beneath him. He pushes back, but it’s hopeless.
“Why Kirishima? What the hell did he do?”
“He was weak. Vulnerable. Accepted my terms with only one condition.”
What the hell? Kirishima allowed this thing to take control of his body? “What fucking condition?”
“As long as I didn’t hurt you, he’d let me use his body as a vessel. Wouldn’t fight me, wouldn’t tell the others, wouldn’t try to kill us both,” it says darkly, leaning down close and running its tongue over sharpened teeth. “But he was naive to believe I would stop at you.”
“Fuck you!” Katsuki screams, and not-Kirishima finally holds down Katsuki using every ounce of strength it can muster. The metal whines in disapproval.
Katsuki’s going to die here, and Kirishima was going to be alone, taken in for crimes he didn’t commit. But he needs Kirishima to understand, “Eijirou, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you to know that this isn’t your fault! You didn’t do this— any of it!”
As if prompted by the sound of Katsuki’s voice, the black of Kirishima’s eyes starts to clear, red irises fighting to come through. Kirishima falls to his knees, and Katsuki hears his real voice come through.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Katsuki, I can’t live with myself if I hurt you, please, kill me, kill me,” Kirishima babbles, pulling Katsuki close despite the words spilling out of his mouth. “I don’t know how else to get rid of this thing, so just do it!”
“I’ve fought for you this long, shithead! You’re not going anywhere!”
Kirishima’s crying hard around the spike sticking out from his throat. He takes in as much air as he can before wheezing, “You have to! Please, please—”
Kirishima is still leaning over him, his tears dripping onto Bakugou’s cheeks, fighting off the parasite taking over his brain for as long as he can. But Bakugou has an idea.
“You need to let it happen. I’ll be fine, just let it happen.”
“No, no, go—”
“Eijirou,” he bites, “right fucking now! Let go!”
For as much as Katsuki trusts him, Kirishima trusts him all the same. He nods as much as he can, and the whites of his eyes roll into the back of his head, black instantly taking its place. The parasite lets out a screech again, letting Katsuki know who’s in control.
He grabs at the pointed tongue that’s still sticking out and pulls, hard. It shreds up the material of his gloves and the skin of his palms, but he pulls and pulls and pulls until he feels it give, just the slightest bit. “Get the fuck out of him, you bastard!” Katsuki roars.
He does his best to block out the choking sounds Kirishima makes, knowing it’ll only slow him down. He reaches his bloodied hand as far into Kirishima’s throat as it will go, one hand gripping at the parasite desperately trying to retreat further into Kirishima’s body. His other hand takes a hold of its tongue, pushing down on it hard with the thickest part of his palm, threatening to snap it in half.
At this point, the parasite has two choices: suffering the loss of its deadliest weapon or getting the hell out of Kirishima’s body.
Katsuki has it cornered, and it has to make a move. Even if it’s a shitty one.
The parasite surges out of Kirishima’s body, leaving him gasping frantically with a hand on his throat. But Katsuki can’t worry about him right now, has to trust that he can handle himself. The parasite shrieks again, leaving Katsuki to believe it’s unable to communicate without a host.
When it isn’t attached to a host, the parasite appears to be a shiny, black pile of sludge, but when Katsuki slams his boot on it to keep it from escaping, he notices that it is solid.
Katsuki is too far from the dropship to kick it out into deep space. He can’t let up in the event that the parasite slips from his grasp, leaving him and Kirishima at a disadvantage. While he’s searching for the nearest opening on the ship, the parasite under his foot liquifies, quickly gliding away from him.
Before he can panic, Kirishima is back on his feet, sprinting past him towards the swiftly fleeing parasite. He finally catches onto it in the heart of the ship and Katsuki locks the two of them inside, giving Kirishima a ten second window to get rid of it.
All he can do now is watch through the tiny slit in the door and pray this works in their favor. Kirishima struggles to keep hold of it— changing rapidly from solid to liquid to throw Kirishima off. He’s right at the dropship doors, trying to figure out how to open it without letting go of the parasite before swinging his leg up and activating the door with his foot.
“I’m done playing it safe, you hear me?!” Kirishima snarls, and the parasite cries out in response. “I'm not running from you! This time, it’s you that’s out of moves.”
The doors surrounding the cafeteria open, and what perfect timing it was. Katsuki watches on as Kirishima heaves the being that caused him sleepless nights and a shitload of trauma off the ship with no remorse. And that’s pretty damn poetic, Katsuki thinks.
Katsuki assists in closing the dropship doors again, dragging Kirishima away with a hand on his bicep. Pride swells in his chest at the display Kirishima had just shown. Kirishima was strong, of course, but he didn’t always have the confidence in himself to carry out what Katsuki knew he could do. “You did good, Red.”
But Kirishima won’t have any of his praise. “No, I didn’t do anything other than what needed to be done. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt,” he rambles, trying to push out as many words as he can between breaths to make Katsuki understand. “I thought if I just did what it said, I could—”
Katsuki cuts him off by shushing him once. He doesn’t need an explanation. If the roles were reversed, he’d have done the same. “It’s okay, we're okay. It’s over, Ei,” Katsuki promises, letting Kirishima clamber into his arms.
Kirishima slumps against him, pressing his tear soaked face into the crook of his neck. He’s a goddamn mess— blood, snot, and sweat smeared on his face like the world’s grimiest paint palette. It doesn’t deter Katsuki from pulling his face from it’s resting place, palms sliding up to clasp behind his neck and tugging him close for a fierce kiss. Kirishima inhales through his nose, hooking his arms under Katsuki’s, reaching up to cup the back of his head.
When they pull apart, Katsuki rests his forehead against Kirishima’s and closes his eyes, more than happy to indulge in his boy after the hell they’ve gone through just to get here.
Kirishima’s still hanging onto Katsuki like he needs an anchor to keep him on the ship with him. “What do we do, now, Katsuki?”
Katsuki flicks his ear. “Did you forget who the hell you’re talking to? I’m Bakugou Katsuki, you should know I have a goddamn plan. I removed the ship’s tracker the day we sent Kaminari out; nobody has a clue where we are.”
Kirishima looks down in shame. “I still think you should leave. They’re gonna come looking for me. I’ve killed nine people, after all. Even if I’m untrackable now, I won’t be in the clear forever. It shouldn’t fall on you, too.”
“You did not kill anyone,” Katsuki growls out.
Kirishima presses, “But it used my body and I let it. How are we supposed to know if it isn’t lingering? Or if it’s planted a piece of itself in my brain? Or—”
“If you open your goddamn mouth one more time, I’m going to kill you ,” he grits out, effectively disrupting his spiral. “We’re partners, you and me. I go where you go, and I hope you’d want to follow me.”
“You know I do.”
“Alright, then. I’ll take care of it. You with me?” Katsuki raises a closed fist.
Kirishima smiles sincerely at him, and for the first time in a long time, Katsuki sees the signature sparkle in his eyes. He knocks his own fist against Katsuki’s. “Til the end.”