The holidays were always times when people's spirits lifted with joy and cheer, enveloping themselves in blankets of snow while others despited the fake-joy of it all, profusely burying themselves deep inside as a way to block out meaningless joy.

Kirishima was on the positive spectrum, refusing to let any negativity slip into his system because it's the best time to just be happy and let loose. No shade, but it wasn't manly of anyone to flip his wide grin downwards. The winter cheers always sank into everyone's hearts at some point-

"Merry fucking Christmas, you asswipes."

Kirishima's point proven.

"Yeah, we're the butt wipes cleaning up all of your shit."

Bakugou's face twisted like a shifting maze with glowering crimson eyes as a rumble of snakes and laughs rose from both class 1-A and 1-B from the gutsy, daring comment Uraraka mumbled from the side, more so shocked that she slid in a cuss word. "Oi chubby cheeks, you might want to keep your jaws shut before I snap them off your face."

Uraraka hummed in response, a sneaky and contempt smile still adorning her pink lips, "I'd like to see you try, Pomeranian."

Bakugou raised a fist, yellow-orange sparks igniting through the gaps between his fingers. "I'll show you right now."

Monoma cackled, a crazy glint swirling in his bulging eyes. "Wow, guess class 1-A really is a bit naughty, guess Santa might have some extra coal to hand out after all."

"You're the bitch who still believes in that fat pork chop wearing pajamas." Bakugou didn't hesitate to raise his head and his middle finger higher at the class B boisterous and cocky student.

Kirishima gently patted Bakugou's shoulder, knowing subconsciously that a physical gesture had zero chance to cool his jets, but still did anyways. "Yo man, you just got to let loose sometimes, just ignore him." He still displayed his toothy grin as Bakugou's eyes glanced between the hand on his shoulder to his eyes, expecting another colorful verbal response once he sharply inhaled-

"Well floaty girl, I'd tell you to lose some weight, but you already have your quirk to make yourself not seem as heavy as a fat ass."

Every pair of eyes, including Kirishima and Bakugou's, landed on Monoma showcasing the widest and flashiest grin as he towered over Uraraka, who still held her head high and hands crossed over her chest even if her chocolate eyes reached his collarbone.

"Hold the fucking phone," Bakugou fumed, palms now smoking with heat, "say that again, copy cat and I'll blow your ass to the damn moon, find a name that's original!"

Kirishima pressed his lips together knowing that Monoma pissed him off more than Midoriya could ever achieve at the moment. Did Uraraka need help? Cause that was an extremely low blow, pun not intended, and Monoma was going to been blown right back in the face for messing with her.

Before Bakugou slammed his steaming hands on Monoma, Uraraka's glare hardened and grabbed him by the back of his shirt and tugged, not breaking eye contact. "What the fuck, round face?!-"

"Excuse me, but I don't tolerate with dissociative identity disorder during the holidays or my birthday," Uraraka purses her lips, her eyes scanning him as if he was the value of a penny waiting to be thrown in the street. She ignored the way Bakugou's ruby eyes slightly widened, catching him off guard because he expected to be the one cussing Monoma out. "Especially when a quirk doesn't know how to be anything other than an inferior copy of someone else's."

Kirishima's definitely not the only one covering their mouth in shock. Since when did Uraraka completely roast someone and send them to their grave? "Oh my god, bro."

Monoma's lips fall faster into an actual scowl, heck, that boy always played cocky with class 1-A, and here he was finally losing his temper as if he's copied Bakugou's mood swings instead of his explosive quirk, and everyone's just waiting for him to say anything.

Kirishima takes note of the lip-biting grin Bakugou's wearing after he'd stopped frozen from the shade Uraraka threw, as if he was proud.

Monoma finally kicked hip lips, saying the only lame comeback he probably could think of, at least that's what Kirishima thought. The boy was in front of everyone, his reputation was on the line. "You're a bitch."

And his reputation was gone with the snap of a finger.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this type of language is extremely unprofessional to use-!" Iida's voice rang, followed by himself striding past Kirishima to reach the center of the argument, his arms flailing in the air through uncorrelated, choppy motions as if invisible bricks of wood were floating to chop in half.

"At least I'm only one," Uraraka replies back in a scoffed voice, "You're like, five. We have to name you bitch one, two, three, four, five from all your different personalities and quirks and nobody likes fake people who're two-faced just like pennies-!"

Oh man, his reputation was deceased, gone-buried under his gravestone-

An eruption of howls and shrieking rumbled from Kirishima and all the students as Uraraka's unfiltered, ruthless roast finally sank into Monoma from the way he slipped towards the edge of the room avoiding Bakugou's presence and gaze at all costs. Kids wrapped his humongous arms around Uraraka like tightropes and scolding her for her language.

This is why class A and B rarely get together, and why Monoma shouldn't bother flapping his jaws like the 'mine!' seagulls in Nemo in any way correlated to Bakugou. Kirishima has a general knowledge about he and Uraraka training together, so it might've been his unintentional influence for her surprising colorful language.

As Bakugou finally pried the class rep away, he slung one arm over her shoulders with his nose and lips hovering close to her ear, whispering something that caused her to cup her reddening cheeks, sputtering nonsense and crammed her face against his chest.

"Well, that was pretty crazy to watch, I'm glad someone other than Kendou finally made him know his place." A voice said from behind, and Kirishima smiled as one of his closest friends from class 1-B snakes his way. "Awase, bro!"

A quick handshake and a manly hug later, Kirishima disregarded having any concern for Bakugou our of his mind hoping that the scene Uraraka caused was enough to keep him at bay. "No wonder why it's hard for both classes to get together, what he did was totally unmanly."

Awase lightly laughed, swinging his body gently on the balance of his feet. "I just heard Tetsutetsu say that."

"You gotta agree though, it's not!"

Whatever thought process went through Monoma's head, well, it wasn't smart for him to play his chess pieces the way he did resulting in him sitting towards the corner of the room, hesitating to harass anyone else in class 1-A. Kirishima was more thankful he wouldn't be on his nerves at least.

His ruby eyes flashed to the small Christmas gift bag Awase flashed from behind his back, holding it directly in front of his chest. "Just wanted to say Merry Christmas to the coolest bro in class 1-A."

"Hey, thanks man!" Kirishima grabbed the present he'd brought for Awase, exchanging it. "You want me to wait to open it or should I right now?"

"You can whenever, how about just opening them together?"

"Alright."

After a countdown from three, the two boys giddily tore their presents open, not knowing what to expect from the other, but still had excited grins on their faces.

Kirishima's eyes widened as he pulled out the two items that seemed strangely similar from what he'd given Awase, at least definitely ranging in the same ballpark of what exactly it was. He glanced between the red-flame themed headband and the bottle of a luxury brand hair gel he held to the ocean blue patterned headband and hair gel he'd gifted Awase.

As soon as Kirishima met his emerald eyes, no words had to be exchanged before they bursted out with laughter.

Awase's shoulders shook. "Shit, man, now that's fucking funny." He tucked his head through the new hair accessory, letting it dangle around his neck, and checked out the hair product in his hand. "I haven't tried this yet. You?"

Of course he's tried it. It was one of the most high-end and boujee-ist hair products he's ever tried in his life. "Trust me bro, that'll work like a charm. I rely on that when I train with Bakugou," Kirishima ruffled the front of his hair, making sure his headband wouldn't fall off. "You only need a tiny bit and it'll straighten out everything, man."

Even if Tetsutetsu was practically a brother from another mother, the one topic they completely disagreed on was hair products. The iron-manned soul completes only the bare minimum to be fresh; shampoo, conditioner, air dry. He'd always pester Kirishima about getting out of the locker room asap to go out somewhere, but he himself had high standards to look and feel good about appearance.

He didn't want to sink back to the middle school days of unstableness, fitting between the cracks so society wouldn't bat an eye, and besides, everyone had invested in something that made them happy. He'd read about how some girls after going through a breakup, they'd change up their hairstyle significantly to let go and move on and he wanted to proclaim in big, bold letters that it does work.

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Kirishima was having the worst hair day.

"What the heck, man?!" He practically growled, which was a rare occasion, yanking his brush through the red clumps of hair that decided to have a mind of its own and tangle in every possible way to make it clearly impossible to style. "Why now."

Of course it happened now. He and Mina were just going to have a fun day of mindless adventuring, but that never stopped him from looking tidy and snatched. He'd more so probably overdo it on using hair gel and spray on accident so that the wind would probably be whipping around sticks of concrete stuck up on his head instead of hair.

At this point, he'd be tempted to rip out all his hair and find a wig and pray that nobody would snatch it off. God, everything was going so wrong with his already messed up life, and there was no convincing him, no option to walk out of his dorm looking like he treaded in the 'wall of shame' from a party too strong.

Kirishima swallowed thickly when the hairbrush refused to budge from the top of his head.

Sweat dripped down both sides of his bitter face. After staring in the mirror for far too long, Kirishima wanted to literally scream.

The words that first slipped into his mind fell out of his lips, "What the CRAP!"

Not a moment's peace later, a muffled yell through the opposite wall voiced back, "Shut the fuck up, shitty hair!"

Kirishima did not have the time or patience to deal with Bakugou today. "How about you be the bigger man and leave me alone!" On a regular basis, he wouldn't have the confidence to snap back, and honest to god, he didn't mean to now.

Oh god, he was seriously screwed. He could hear the slam of a door, heavy stomps leading up to the rattling of his door hinges shaking when a fist pounded against his door. "You better be ready to get your ass kicked for talking back to me, you-"

Kirishima swung the door open, the brush handle bopping against the door. "You know what? Fine, cause I'm already getting my butt handed to me today!" His fingers tightly gripped the door handle, trying his absolute best to keep his emotions under control.

Bakugou snapped his jaw closed, ruby eyes widened and raised eyebrows at the brush that was stuck in his hair. "Is that your new fashion statement?"

"Dude, no." Kirishima has the confidence, or was more by his annoyance overwhelming him, to roll his eyes at the blonde standing before him. "I'm just having difficulties with—with this-" a finger shot upwards to the tangly situation atop his head.

"Fuck, I don't know about hair n' shit, but I can blow it up-"

"No! Are you nuts?!" Kirishima yelped, waving a hand in the air. God, was this the only solution Bakugou ever thought of for any situation? "I'm not going out with a bird's nest on my head, and I'm not gonna go bald!"

Bakugou snorted. "Shitty hair, that might be the only two options you have." Crimson eyes roamed Kirishima's hair for a good three seconds, clearly to judge, and said, "I have the right to call you shitty hair for real now."

Kirishima didn't even wait to see Bakugou's cocky smirk widen before slamming the door closed and yelling back, "I hope Best Jeanist helps you clean up for a date with Uraraka so you don't look like an angry Pomeranian."

He'd gotten that nickname from Uraraka at the Christmas party a while ago, glad that he remembered it now. His fingers locked the door before Bakugou was heard sputtering angry yells back, almost imagining the tomato-red color seeping up from his neck to his hairline. Kirishima bet that smirk flipped itself upside down.

Kirishima barely had a smile before passing by his reflection again, watching his own lips flip flop to a frown.

Without a second thought, he picked up his phone and shot a text.

Hey man, think you can help me with a hair situation?

Not half a minute later did his phone light up with a reply.

Headband bro: Hell yeah. Your dorm?

Yeah. It's bad bro

Headband bro: Shit how bad?

I'm looking like week old leftover spaghetti in the back of the fridge

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"Holy shit, that's bad."

Kirishima let out a snort after Awase's green eyes doubled their size and a hand covered his mouth, probably in shock of how worse than he'd imagined and how the hell he'd ended up in this situation in the first place.

Awase lifted a hand to softly nudge the entangled brush knotted in his bold red hair. "I think this is looking like month old crusty spaghetti accidentally thrown in the freezer."

"Yeah, I don't know how it happened, man," Kirishima said between chuckles while Awase had a few laughs. And he had every right to. There was no way on gods green earth he'd expect his friend to show up and keep a straight face and pretend that this was completely normal.

Awase's face slowly relaxed, a questioning look crossing his face. "Damn. Okay, I say we go run your hair under hot water, apply a shitload of conditioner and try prying this out in tiny portions." He rubbed the side of his face. "But that means we gotta get you to the bathroom downstairs to use a shower or sink."

That's right. At least they didn't have to worry about Bakugou seeing the monstrosity hair situation anymore.

Kirishima cringed at the thought of Kaminari or Mineta spotting him, they wouldn't let that down no matter what.

"We gotta hide you somehow, but I know everyone from class A's gonna already ride up my ass for being in your guys' dorms," Awase dully said. "Todoroki already glares at me, but I fucking hate him too."

"Maybe cause you're talking to Yaoyorozu."

A rosy blush made its way onto Awase's face that he desperately tried to fight, scrunching his face. "Yeah yeah, whatever, he can fuck off."

Kirishima sighed through his nose, already expecting an answer of the sort. Todoroki did consider Yaoyorozu to be a close friend, and with Awase's potty mouth and blunt personality, the guy wasn't going to take it fairly light from Awase building a relationship with her.

"We're just gonna wing this shit and if someone asks me about it I'll fuse them to the wall."

Wow, sounded a whole like explodo-overkill but in a different body. Awase's quirk did technically weld two objects together, and no doubt he'd stick someone to the wall. Heck, he's sacked Monoma over the head with a wooden board before, Kirishima wouldn't be surprised if he had the balls to slap Bakugou on a surface and promise to connect a ticking bomb to his chest if he tried to send explosions to his face.

Where he'd get that bomb; probably from Yaoyorozu. Their quirks went hand in hand, and it was obviously apparent to Bakugou because he demanded Uraraka for longer training sessions.

Kirishima threw on a hoodie, the hood barely covering half of his head from the brush angling out sideways to his left, the handle in plain sight to spot. He nodded when Awase said, "Just keep to my right and duck since the men's bathroom is on the right." Easier said that done.

A gasp of relief Kirishima hadn't realized he'd been holding in flew past his lips to see the elevator empty. Now, it was only halfway done, seeing that he was on floor four and their destination was on floor one. Anyone could step on.

Kirishima's fingers twitched as they passed the third floor, anxiously waiting to practically bolt to the shower room-

His reputation flashed before his eyes as it stopped on level two, feeling his soul leave his lifeless body and hunch his shoulders once both boys' met Mineta's eyes after he'd stepped onto the elevator.

A sputtered sound came from Mineta as he pointed to Kirishima's hair, saying, "Yo, What the heck happened Kirishima?! You look like a-"

Before another word came out, Awase swiftly grabbed the hem of his shirt and slammed him against the wall, emerald eyes glaring. "If you say one more word about this, or to anyone, I'll fuse you to your grave."

Those words enough had Mineta quivering under his grasp, tiny legs uselessly kicking in the air. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I promise I won't s-say a thing!" Awase's scrunched his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes further. "Please let me down, you won't hear me sayin' nothin'." He let his body slump to the floor right as the elevator doors opened.

Voices of chattering could be heard from around the corner, which Awase and Kirishima approaches with caution.

Mineta didn't bat another eye glance before running off, probably scared that his life was almost gone within the grasp of Awase.

"Okay, lets go," Awase whispered, tugging Kirishima's sleeve before the duo stealthily slipped against the wall, tiptoeing, holding their air supply in their lungs, successfully sneaking in the restroom without any other interruptions.

Kirishima pumped a fist. "Man, we made it! God, I'm glad only one person saw me." It could've gone much worse. Now he'd just have to have some sliver of hope for once in Mineta to not say a word, and that was the difficult part.

Both boys spun around wide eyed as a faucet turned on, much to Kirishima's horror, spotting a look of shock from Tokoyami, dark red eyes staring at Kirishima's hair.

To say that Kirishima almost had a heart attack was clearly an understatement.

Kirishima audibly gulped. "Um..."

"Oh shit," Awase mumbled.

"I'll pretend I wasn't a witness of... this," Tokoyami muttered, rather quickly drying his hands and slinking out of the bathroom.

The awkward, thick tension in the air still lingered, chills running up and down Kirishima's spine, hopefully not accidentally activating his hardening quirk. "Okay, lets do this."

Awase slung off the backpack he'd carried on his shoulder and dumped out some hair products on the counter and grabbed a couple different hair conditioners. "Lets go rinse your hair under a shower."

Kirishima twisted the nozzle and stepped back before icy cold water hit his body. It usually took a few minutes before the water heated up, so he carefully took off his shirt, skillfully avoiding ripping out his hair by sliding the brush through the hem of his shirt first. He's had situations with a few little knots or combs not spreading his front hairs out evenly, but this mess was on a whole extra level.

Awase dumped a truckload of conditioner all over his head, rubbing it a little before instructing him, "Soak your hair for a minute, then I'll add more."

Kirishima let the water splash into him, more than eager to have this crappy hairdo situation dealt, done, and over with as soon as possible. "Dude, just don't get it in my eye," He said over his shoulder, earning a laugh back.

Little by little, Awase added dots and dabs of conditioner and started to gently tug out tiny portions of hair from the brush prongs. "Shit, man, how the hell did you get it like this?" He continued weaving his fingers through the nasty mess, probably used up a whole bottle of conditioner in the process, but Kirishima couldn't be more thankful that his scalp would finally be released from being pulled from his head.

It might've been time consuming, estimating between a solid hour or more, more than so used up half of the oceans water, but it was worth it in the end.

Kirishima excitedly ran his hands through his soft, slick hair. "Awase, I don't even know how you did it bro!" He grinned at himself in the mirror, letting strips of free and untangled hair slope down.

"Fuck, that took a while," Awase replied, wiping the back of his hand across the headband on his forehead. "Lets go finish this."

After going back to Kirishima's dorm, Awase blowdried his red hair upwards and perfectly slicked, sprayed, and gelled his hair to his classic spikes. "Mina better compliment this later today or else I'm never doing this shit again."

Kirishima let out a laugh, thrilled at the free hair solon treatment he received. "That was so manly of you, dude. I'm sure she'll notice."

Awase always has his back, and Kirishima swore he'd repay him with a favor at any time. That's what a real bro does.

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Now was the time when Kirishima's handy dandy favor came in.

Well, it wasn't necessary a favor if Kirishima has been pleading Awase for months, trying to convince him that colorful hair was manly and cool. Nonetheless, Kirishima was ecstatic to get started right away after he'd lured his friend into the world of dying hair.

Kirishima was already prepared in his room. Towels were spread on the floor, because let's face it, dye was an absolute bitch to clean out of the floor. Two pairs of gloves, developer, all the essentials in coloring hair except the color itself.

He let Awase choose and surprise him.

Awase cursed. "Shit, here it is." He handed over the product, and Kirishima saw that it was a deep blue. He'd have to patiently wait until his hair was fully dry to see the final color.

"Man, lets get started! I'm excited, just don't let the fact that Bakugou lives next door bother you."

"That bitch? If he comes in, he'll regret it."

Same old, classic Awase.

"He's seen me dye my hair before, but it's no big deal," Kirishima said, leading Awase to sit on a spot on the ground that had a couple folded towels underneath as cushions.

He slipped on a pair of gloves and started mixing the dye like second nature, knowing the steps in the process memorized by heart while Awase kept glancing between him and the screen on his phone. It barely took a minute before Kirishima said, "You ready man?"

Awase shrugged his shoulders, but a hint of excitement spiraled in his eyes. "Fuck yeah."

Kirishima draped an extra towel around Awase's shoulders so no extra flyaway dye drops stained his clothes. "I'm starting with a small layer at the back of your head." He snapped the rest of his black hair into a floppy man-bun, proceeding to coat the first layer of dye while Awase tried catching a small glimpse from the mirrors reflection.

The method Kirishima used was much more time-consuming, but the results were better in the end. He's learned his lesson by trying to dump all the product on his head and work it in like shampoo; there were blotches and streaks of his natural black hair showing through and he had to pay at least a few hundred bucks to get his hair evenly toned out. Even still now, he'd more so force Bakugou to help him with the back of his hair.

"Basically y'wanna go in small strips so you don't miss anything," Kirishima said.

Awase first started a little unsure of himself at the top of his head, but soon worked his way into rhythm, maybe not as fast as Kirishima's handiwork from having more experience, but still got the hang of it.

The process went faster along with the two boys working together, throwing on a few Shane Dawson videos on Kirishima's laptop to pass time with quite a few snorts and laughs before they completely finished Awase's hair.

"Shit, now all there's left is fucking waiting," Awase said, shaking his head slightly as he stood up from his numb rear end.

Yup, all there was left to do was wait, but Kirishima couldn't be more ecstatic to see the result.

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"Holy—I'm speechless, that is so, so manly, dude!"

Several hours later, Awase had come back fresh and clean with his hair done up in the usual; patterned headband wrapped around gelled hair. Kirishima told him to meet up on the first floor of the dorms, not minding that a few classmates were watching tv.

Kirishima wasn't gapping at his hairstyle; it was the deep royal blue hue of his thick hair, not a black strand in sight. It reminded him almost of a midnight sky, the shift had a aqua hue and his mind was utterly boggled and a voice at a loss of words.

Awase cracked a side smirk. "Yeah, I guess it turned out fucking cool-"

"Dude, you should be the next Covergirl. James Charles? Never heard of that sis," Kirishima cracked, letting out a hearty laugh and clapped his hands in excitement.

Awase didn't hesitate to flip him the birdie and barely threaten to melt him into the floor.

"But for real, dude, blue's definitely your color."

A tiny small perked onto Awase's lips for half a second before a gentle voice called from behind:

"Awase, is that you?"

Kirishima's grin instantly grew linger and wider, almost wearing a shit-eating, cocky Bakugou smile as Yaoyorozu happily toed over in a nice white shirt and skinny jeans with heels to match, her face decorated with a light amount of glowy makeup. He caught Awase's eyes flicker up and down, a blush creeping up from the bottom of his neck all the way to the hairline.

Maybe he overdid it, but a small shove in the back seemed to get Awase out of his trance and stumble forward, but wasn't proper without receiving a hard glare shot over his shoulder before turning into a stuttering mess.

Awase's hands trembled, one reaching to to occupy rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, shit, I guess."

Man, he was whipped. And Kirishima was making the most out of this.

He could see Yaoyorozu glance up at Awase's hair, eyes practically sparkling. "Did you color your hair?" She cocked her head to the side in question.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, um, just thought it'd be somethin' different, not a big fuckin' deal," Awase breathed, now unconsciously running a hand through his hair.

"Wow, it looks really nice, I love it! It makes your eyes pop."

The man couldn't stand still. It was ridiculous to watch, even after a couple years of Awase proudly, and more so luckily, saving Yaoyorozu from a nomu during the summer camp, somehow seemed to have lingering feelings. No matter how far of a long shot it was, it was better than not at all, as Michael Jordan would put it; you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take.

So—

Kirishima was rooting for Awase, and he's pretty sure he'd get a thank you later on for how slick and cool his hair was.

Because that's just what bros do.