The titles literally mean nothing. Don't think to hard about it.
Also I somehow lost half this chapter and had to rewrite it so if it's bad blame that.

The next time Bakugou visited the shop, he didn't bother knocking. Amajiki had given him a key before he left the day before and he decided to take advantage of it.
It was still early, sure, but he didn't see a problem with slipping in to set everything up. Taishiro had trusted him to do so before.
He wheeled his bike into place and started to unpack the tools, but after the obvious tasks were complete, there wasn't much left for him to do except wait for Kirishima to show up.
He sat down on a random chair he dug out, leaning back and sighing. It was too bad this place didn't have wifi.
After a few minutes, he noticed that the door to Taishiro's office was ajar and the light was on. Was ol' fat here? Did he stop in to do some paperwork? Or was something sketchy going down?
This absolutely seemed like something he needed to check out. If it was a robbery, he would be hailed as a hero, which would be nice, and if it was Taishiro, he could probably say hi or something, ask him for some details on Kirishima or whatever. It wasn't like he was curious about the redhead or anything. He just wanted to make sure the person fixing his bike was qualified to do so.
Bakugou padded up the steps, trying to be quiet in case the person inside was a robber. He didn't hear any noises as he padded made his way toward the door. Taishiro definitely wasn't here.
Bakugou pushed the door the rest of the way open, wincing as it creaked on its hinges. When he pushed his way through, he didn't see any robbers, but he did see something he didn't expect.
Kirishima was curled up on the old futon Taishiro had kept in his office since as long as Bakugou could remember. It was so greasy and full of holes that he couldn't even imagine sitting on it, let alone sleeping as soundly as this shitty-haired moron was. He didn't even have a pillow or a blanket that didn't look like it belonged in the rag box.
Bakugou's first thought was that Kirishima was living here. But that couldn't be the case. How could a person live in this shop. There was a mini fridge in the corner, which meant he could store food, but there wasn't a microwave in here. He wouldn't be able to have anything hot. Bakugou eyed the trash can, noticing all the fast food bags, and then the tattered tooth brush and paste sitting on the desk, and finally the duffle bag of clothes on the floor.
Holy fuck.
Kirishima lived here.
Bakugou wondered what he should do with this information. Should he say something to him? Should he keep his mouth shut? He had never been good at the ladder, but this didn't seem like any of his business.
And still, he felt like he had to do something. He didn't know what was driving him to actually have some empathy. Why should he care that some loser lives in a bike repair shop?
Was it because that loser was his mechanic? Was it because that loser was in charge of his baby?
That had to be it.
Right?