BakuJirou Oneshots

Flawless

“The hell do you want?”

Jirou rolled her eyes at Bakugo, standing at his door frame with her notebook clutched to her chest. She’d come to go over the musical revisions she’d made for his percussion part, but unfortunately that also meant having to interact with this total jerk. She glares up at him, suddenly wishing she wasn’t so damn short, hating how he’s looking down on her (very literally) with a rude, passive stare.

“I’m going over the rhythms again and I need to hear you play it so I can make adjustments.”

She explained, planting a hand on her hip.

He snorts,

“So? Save it for practice time. I’m not just gonna answer your every beck and whim, earlobes.”

She feels irritation flood hotly into her face,

“Look, this isn’t the type of production we can make properly unless we all give it 100% all the time. You’re the one who said we need to ‘murder the school’ or whatever, so you of all people should be willing to help out extra. Also, don’t call me ‘earlobes’. I have a name.”

She shoved the notebook with the new drumline to his chest, forcing him to take it,

“We’ll use your drumset since Kaminari and Tokoyami are using my room to practice.”

She said, pointing her earjack past his shoulder into his room. While it’s true that her room is occupied, as it had been a lot lately, there’s also a tiny part of her that feels embarrassed at the thought of inviting Bakugo to her room. She doesn’t know why it’s embarrassing, it just is. 

He blinks at her, seemingly stunned a moment, before he shakes his head briefly and snaps,

“...Who in the fuck do you think you’re bossing around?! I’ll do this shit just to get you off my back, but keep talking to me like that and i’ll kick your ass!”

He threatened, but Jirou just shrugs and steps past him into his room,

“Sure, Bakugo.”

She hasn’t ever been in his room before. She’s only aware that he has his own drum set in here because she’ heard him play it before when he thought nobody was around. 

And, low and behold, it’s the first thing she sees upon entering the space. That, and mountains of rubbish. Honestly, it’s one of the messiest rooms she’s ever seen in her life, and that’s saying something considering the fact that she’s been in Kaminari’s room multiple times and each time it only got worse. 

Bakugo has a lot less useless crap than Kaminari, but it’s just as disorganized. Dirty clothes are thrown everywhere, and the sparse furniture he has such as a table and a nightstand were tipped over, one of which having a broken leg. He had many posters on his walls, but almost all of them were torn or scorched, and his walls were in rough shape too, containing several holes and burn marks. His mirror was cracked and broken, and there was even a vacuum cleaner sticking out of his checkered ceiling. It was like a damn tornado had gone through the place. A tornado named Katsuki Bakugo.

She shuddered, hearing him close the door behind them, walking past her and sitting at his drum set, one of the few things other than his television, desk and bed that was intact.