Shoot Your Shot - MHA College AU

Scene 12: Half-Finished Drinks

 { Scene 12: Half-Finished Drinks } 

That was the night you talked about it.  When things changed. The night you'd been thinking of and worrying over like a cursed video tape. Replaying the hurt in his eyes in every spare moment leading up to earlier this morning, on your way to set up for the party.

And yet, maybe you'd been wrong about that night.  Wrong about it this whole time.  From that fateful shared glance as you chuckled over the disaster of the basement, to the quiet evening of dish bubbles and jiggly, jell-o cups, to the gentle stroke of his hands when they laced up your ribbons, to the pull of his arms when you fell into his chest amidst the rumbling of the dance floor. Kirishima was still your friend. He was still here.  No bridges were burned that night.

A scattered stone path of moments leading up to now. Under a haze of sweet alcohol, you were pressed into Kirishima's side, like a child seeking protection from noisy strangers.  Here, tucked into the fabric of his t-shirt, you were safe, and with that tape around your wrist, you felt special. You told yourself it was like a sign to others, a sign to yourself that, in a way, you were his tonight.  A twisted half-truth that you'd dream of being real.

That should've been enough for you.... But there was an imbalance.

The other wrist that hung by your side, the crinkled, burnt tape seared into skin, it longed for a partner. You wished you could craft a ribbon, tie it gently around the remains of the sticky plastic and bring Bakugo into this silly little partnership. But the tournament had games to be played, and rounds to be lost and won, and even if they were apart, the boy was still reluctantly stuck with your aloof, electric friend.

"There you are!" Jiro said, her expression lightening with the turn of your head. "Denki, they're over here!"

Jiro nudged your arm, a crudely tattooed Kaminari flashing from under her loosely fitted tank top. You could chuckle at your fine handiwork.

"Have you tried one yet?" you offered, handing her a bright blue jell-o shot.

"Did you make them?"

Tilting your head towards the boys behind, you grinned. "It was a team effort."

As she cautiously eyed the jiggly little pot of jell-o, you knew she'd eventually cave. Jiro had a secret sweet spot for harmless trouble and hijinks.  Most girls did after all, you thought.

An arm pushed past your shoulder.  Not an aggressive gesture, but frantic enough to leave you stumbling, bridging you from Jiro and knocking you further into Kirishima's side. A small gasp escaped you as you fumbled over your own feet, but Kirishima was there, catching your shoulders.  You wanted to thank him, in this case, for being a literal rock to lean on, but even he was distracted by the confrontation unfolding.

"Dude, I've been looking everywhere for you.  You freakin' ditched me! Almost ripped my whole hand off!" Kaminari complained. 

Over the rim of his cup, Bakugo gave the blonde a disgruntled huff. "Your dainty wrist looks fine to me. And besides, you were slowing me down."

The frazzled boy scoffed, maybe a jolt too confidently. "Slowing you down?"

Bakugo didn't seem to like his tone. "Were you watching the tournament? Or were you too busy digging your finger up your nose?" he spat.

"Course I was! These two won against Testu and Ms. Alien queen," he said turning to you. "By the way, that last little move you did at the end was totally sick! You and Roki are seriously insane with your quirks, it's both stupid awesome and completely unfair by the way."