i hate you. (Bakugou Katsuki x OC)

14 | Sixteen Candles

The spring sun had long ago sunk when I found myself buried in my duvet Saturday night.

My kidnappers took mercy on me and my sore body, deciding not to spend the night like they usually do. They vacate my bedroom with all of the bags of useless U.A. goodies from the festival by eight and I'm asleep by eight fifteen.

Or, I should have fucking been. Had my phone not flashed into my dark room like it was a goddamn beacon, blasting the familiar ringtone I have set for all of the kids in 1-A.

"I want to see you out that door. Baby bye, bye, bye..."

In my weak attempt to silence the song – and perhaps crush my phone out of pure annoyance – my finger accepts the call. A video spreads across the phone easily, showcasing brilliantly red hair and a sharp-toothed grin. The contact for Lava Rock 🏮moves into the corner.

"Aw, Katsuki!" Kirishima cries over the speaker, squinting into what must be a completely blacked-out screen for him. "You can't go to bed early the night before your birthday."

And magically, I'm not tired anymore.

"It's Bakugou's birthday tomorrow?" I ask, flicking my lap on to illuminate my side of the call.

"Koyasu? What are you doing at Katsuki's–" Kirishima's eyes pop open in shock before he trails off, eyes scanning the top of his phone. "Shit, I called the wrong person. You both have 'K' names and my finger must have slipped... Sorry, that's my bad."

"It happens," I mumbled noncommittally, looping back to my question. "Is it really his birthday tomorrow? Figures I didn't get an invite to the party."

Kirishima ignores the sarcasm in my voice in favor of the words. "He's not having a party. Hasn't had one in years, apparently."

"What?" I gasp in all of the superficial horror I can muster. "Who doesn't have a birthday party?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Kirishima laughs, matching my horror easily. "I mean, he invited me over tomorrow, but it isn't to hang out or anything. He wants to 'train to fight the aging'."

I roll my eyes, leaning back against my pillows. "Of course he does. That guy couldn't relax if you paid him."

"Yeah, but that's what makes him, well, him, you know?" Kirishima's laugh rolls out of the speaker, just as warm as in real life. "He doesn't do anything halfway."

I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. "No kidding. Still, you only turn–" I pause, realizing I don't know how old Bakugou is turning. "How old is he gonna be, anyway?"

"Sixteen," Kirishima replies without missing a beat.

"Sixteen?" I repeat, my voice incredulous. "And he's just gonna let that slide by like any other day?"

"Looks like it," Kirishima says with a shrug. "There's not a lot we can do about that, though."

A thought crosses my mind, and before I can think better of it, the words tumble out. "Except we can."

"What do you mean?" Kirishima asks, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Do something about it," I continue. Despite the lack of thought in my decision to speak, my subconscious seems to have put a lot of thought into the plan within the last few seconds. "We could put something together for him. Make it a surprise or something, that way he can't back out."

Kirishima raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement at something underneath his expression. "You know he'd flip out if you did that, no matter how much he appreciates it deep down."