"Kirishima, wake up! Bloody hell!"

Jerking upright with a start, Kirishima sucked in a great lungful of air, eyes darting furtively around the room before fixing themselves Kaminari, who stood above him with a bemused look on his features. "Wha...?" Kirishima mumbled, arching his back and wincing as he heard the joints click. What weird position did he sleep in this time?

Kaminari kicked not-so-lightly at his leg, which sparked the thought of 'Did I Sleep With A Blanket On?' He didn't remember being given one, and Kirishima had no idea where Sero would keep something like that. Still, he frowned at Kaminari, who was now rushing over to the wardrobe in the corner and yanking out a school shirt. Running water could be heard from the bathroom, too.

"Dude, you gotta get ready for school!" Kaminari hissed. "Everyone left, like, ten minutes ago!"

Kirishima blinked, letting the words seep in, before he started, jumping to his feet and rushing to the door. "Oh shit!" he said, opening it roughly and quickly adding "Thanks!" as he sprinted down the hallway.

Upon arriving at his own dorm room, Kirishima could see that Bakugo was lazily scrolling through his phone, fully dressed, with a bored expression on his face. He didn't even look up as Kirishima entered, just stayed slumped against the wall.

Not that Kirishima noticed. He beelined straight for his closet, pulling out his uniform and trying to tug off the clothes he slept in simultaneously. Somehow, he got dressed in under thirty seconds, heading to the bathroom and shoving a toothbrush in his mouth as he glanced into the mirror.

His hair was a mess, undoubtedly, and because he hadn't washed out any of his industrial gel each strand was sticking out at every angle imaginable. He groaned, raising his free hand to try and straighten them to no avail, and realised that the only way to look half-decent would be to wash it out.

A few minutes later he rushed out of the bathroom, hair down and dripping wet as he frantically searched for a towel. Only when something flew at his face did Kirishima stop and fully take in his surroundings. He saw Bakugo with his arm cocked but his hand empty, eyes narrowed in irritation.

His eyes-

Kirishima shook that thought away and held up the towel that had been thrown at him, flashing the blond a grin as he rubbed viciously at his hair.

"Thanks, bro," he said, tossing the damn material to the side as he dived for a brush.

Bakugo scoffed. "For what, Shitty Hair?"

Kirishima shrugged, putting the brush down and spinning around, eyes searching for his bag. He spotted it and scooped it up. "For waiting!"

Scowling, Bakugo headed for the door. "Yeah, well. If we don't fucking run we're gonna be late."

They were late, the bell ringing a few moments before they sprinted in, Kirishima hopping into his seat and tucking his bag under the desk as Bakugo slouched in his chair. Fortunately, Aizawa hadn't arrived yet, so the class sat patiently as they waited.

A few moments later, Kaminari skidded to a stop outside of the doorway, peering a head in and looking around. "He's not here!" he exclaimed incredulously, a grin lighting up his face. That grin was short-lived, however, because a hand clasped the teen's shoulder.

"Kaminari, that's a detention," Aizawa said bluntly. With the look on his friend's face, Kirishima couldn't help it - he laughed. As soon as the sound left his mouth, however, his teacher spun on him, hair starting to rise as his Quirk activated, but Kirishima noticed his scarf stayed snug around his neck. "You too, Kirishima," he snapped. 

Kaminari bit his lip as he suppressed a chuckle, sitting in his seat, at the same time Bakugo shouted, "Bullshit!"

Aizawa rounded on him, his eyes flashing. "Detention."

Bakugo opened his mouth to argue, hands curling as sparks flew, but they were quelled as soon as Aizawa's gaze was focused on him. "Shut it, Bakugo."

Kirishima wondered what had their teacher in such a bad mood today.

The day passed in that odd mixture of fast and slow, where the lesson's would go at a snails pace but before you knew it the bell would be ringing. The three boys were the only ones in detention - presumably, in a prestigious school such as UA, students didn't tend to get detentions.

They had started in their respected seats, Cementoss keeping a close eye on each of them. Well, for about ten minutes , until his head lolled backwards, and his gentle snores filled the room. Kaminari was the first to move, jumping up and moving to the desk beside Kirishima's. Kirishima then gestured for Bakugo to join them, and soon they were deep in hushed conversation - at least, Kirishima and Kaminari were. Bakugo was listening disinterestedly, absently tapping his fingers on his desk, although every so often his stare would flicker up to Kirishima - or, more specifically, his hair, almost as if he couldn't quite place it. Kirishima understood though. He never really wore his hair down that often.

"-And then I can shoot at multiple targets at once!" Kaminari said excitedly, keeping his voice low. "It's a new special move I've been working on. What do you think?"

"It sounds awesome, bro!" Kirishima agreed, nodding. "But, y'know..." he nudged his other blond friend, who looked up with a glare. "If Bakugo helped you, it could be even more effective!"

Kaminari laughed. "Yeah, Bakugo. You wanna create a joint special move?" It was a joke, obviously. Bakugo didn't plan on joining up with anyone; he had made that clear many times before, when Kirishima would ask him.

"Sure," Bakugo muttered, turning his head away. The two boys stared, but their silence didn't last long.

"Awesome!" Kaminari beamed, scooting closer. "You wanna meet up tomorrow? Sero and I have booked one of the training rooms, but I'm sure he won't mind."

Seeing Kaminari so happy, and seeing Bakugo finally open up to ideas that weren't fully revolved around him was...refreshing, Kirishima had to admit. But there was something wrong. A strange feeling had clamped around his heart, tight and uncomfortable, and it threatened to rip the smile from his face as Kaminari talked animatedly about how cool their special move was gonna be.

You're jealous.

He ignored that thought. Why would he be jealous? Bakugo's a friend; a good one, but a friend nonetheless. He's allowed to hang out with other people.

They talked for a few more minutes, until Cementoss snorted himself awake and dismissed them, and they left. Kirishima found himself trailing behind a little, one eye squinted, only looking away from the blonds when he noticed Bakugo turning slightly, about to meet his gaze.

---

Lying on his bed, Kirishima trailed his pinky across his forearm. He wasn't writing anything in particular, just absently doodling a long, curly line along his skin, watching the red line appear, marring the clear, smooth surface. Occasionally, the path would form little hearts, although Kirishima didn't mean for it to. The whole process was slow, and almost saddening. It certainly wasn't making him feel any better. He was so out of it, eyes unfocussed and hazy, that he didn't hear the shower turn off and the curtain rings clatter as Bakugo opened it. When he emerged, towel wrapped around his waist and arms clutched to his chest, Kirishima shifted so that Bakugo couldn't see his face or his arm, knees high and covered by his duvet. Who knew whether he would be able to dredge a smile from somewhere.

Surprisingly enough, the message hadn't been wiped yet. Usually it was gone within a few minutes, but it had been maybe half an hour since he started. Maybe his soulmate was asleep.

"Shitty Hair."

"Huh?" Kirishima sat up, the comforter sliding up over his arm, but he kept his pinky on there. The tingling sensation felt consoling, almost like it wasn't him causing the feeling, but it being reprociated. Almost. "What's up?"

Bakugo looked almost embarrassed, wearing his black and red checkered pyjama bottoms with no shirt on, his toned abs exposed for Kirishima to ogle as much as he liked-

No. Stop it.

The blond's expression was like he was at war with an inner voice, a dark frown over his eyes and his brows furrowed in frustration. There was a long moment of silence, in which Kirishima simply stared at his friend, forcing his eyes not to wander and his happy smile to stay on his face. Eventually, Bakugo quietly - much too quietly - asked, "Am I a bad person?"

The smile dropped, and Kirishima blinked. "What? No!" He scrambled forwards a little, perched on the edge of his bed with the duvet wrapped around his shoulders. Bakugo wasn't looking at him, preferring to stare out of the balcony doors at the sinking sun. Golden yellow rays illuminated him, casting the perfect shadows over his sharp jawlines and defined eyebrows. If it weren't for the solemn countenance in his eyes, the scene would have been faultless. "Wh...why?"

Bakugo sighed, the sound oddly soft coming from such an explosive person, and he moved away from the window, trudging over to his futon, pulling it out a little further from underneath Kirishima's bed and sat on it. He didn't meet Kirishima's pressing gaze.

"I think I'm hurting someone," the blond mumbled quietly, the sound muffled as he dipped his head. Fighting the urge to touch Bakugo's shoulder, understanding that that wasn't what he needed, Kirishima stayed silent. He sensed the teen had more to say and he didn't want to interrupt him. "It's not...fuck...deliberate or some shit. Well, I just...fuck!" he cursed loudly, spinning around and holding Kirishima's surprised and slightly worried stare. "I just don't want them...to get hurt."

Whoever this was, they sounded important to Bakugo. It wasn't often that the blond had such raw emotion in his speech - it was weird, in a concerning way. Whatever he was doing to hurt them, Bakugo clearly was at a loss. And as his friend, it was Kirishima's job to comfort him.

"Hey, Bakugo," Kirishima reassured gently, scooting forwards to hang his legs over the side of the bed. "I don't want to pry, and it sounds personal, so I'm not going to, but..." He paused, wondering how best to phrase the next sentence. "If you have a good, valid reason for it, and you think it's going to be better in the long term, then it should be okay." He spoke with such conviction, the kind he had spent hours perfecting, that Bakugo didn't even argue it; he just nodded absently and lay down on his mattress, muttering a hasty "Night, Shitty Hair," before smacking his head onto the pillow, signifying the end of the conversation.

What kept Kirishima awake, though, was the fact he lied. Or, at least, he thought he did, because no matter how many times he told himself that it was true, he couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't agree with his own words. Hurting someone was wrong, because he knew, first hand, that even the smallest of things can cause a hurricane of pain.