The Return [Kiribaku]

A Whole Shitstorm

Baku

"FUCK YOU," I scream, explosions sparking from my sweaty palms after my fourth loss of the day. I ignore the confused stares around me, opting to stalk toward Deku, who is eyeing me nervously across the ring.

"Enough," Aizawa groans, his scarf tugging me gently away by the wrist. It loosens only when I've climbed from the ring, and I yank it off angrily.

Since yesterday, I've been off. Kiri's absent eyes, his forced smile, are all that I can focus on. Even schoolwork has pushed itself to the back of my mind, leaving me confused and distracted through every lesson. "Fuck," I mutter, trying to shake my worry as I sit heavily on the battered bleachers.
"Hey, man."

I jolt from my thoughts, looking up to find Kaminari fidgeting with a loose string on his PE uniform. "Pikachu."

He sits gingerly a few feet from me, taking a deep breath as though preparing for his next words. "Why did you...why did you push us out yesterday?"

I quirk an eyebrow and sigh, resigned to indulge his innocent curiosity. "He didn't-" I try to will the nerves from my lungs, unfamiliar tension wrapping itself around my gut. "He didn't remember you. Or Soy Sauce."

He blinks. Once, twice.

I groan internally. "Before you could realize and cause a whole shitstorm, I...I didn't know what else to do." I pause, only greeted by the boy's silence. "I'm sorry, Pikachu." I look up from my lap in surprise when a quiet sniffle travels the small space between us.

Kaminari is hunched slightly, his eyes wide and quivering, gaze unfocused. A sole tear makes its way down his cheek, dipping slightly and hovering at the corner of his lower lip.

Despite myself, I feel the beginnings of rage simmering in my palms. How dare he? How dare he cry? A few months after Kirishima's disappearance, I watched as my classmates slowly lost the worry in their words, the grief in their gazes. I was the only one who remembered, who cared! Not these stupid extras! How dare he cry? I let out a soft "tch," and watch the dunce's shoulders shake as he sinks further into himself. 

Without warning, red flicks across my vision. Kiri's face blurs into my mind, his warm smile, his annoyingly kind kindness. As though he is clasping and pulling my calloused fingers, I find myself sliding across the bench and resting my hand awkwardly across the bright blonde's shoulders.

After a small gasp, he leans into me ever so slowly, hiding the blotchy redness of his cheeks in the fabric of my jersey.

I silently curse Kirishima for making me do this, unsure how to feel about the shivering boy in the crook of my shoulder. I'm glad, for once, that Deku is fighting Round Face, as the class is enraptured and pays our strange exchange no mind. Wait...Round Face. What's wrong with her?

As she jumps to avoid Deku's attacks, she stumbles repeatedly, sometimes dropping to use her knees for support, or using the sides of the ring to avoid sinking into the mats under her feet. In a moment of distraction, she is blasted clean from the ring, her eyes closing as she makes no effort to stop herself from thudding harshly into the gym floor.

The class is frozen for a moment, until- "Uraraka!" Mina scrambles from her seat against the wall, skidding on her knees when she reaches the girl's side.

Deku climbs hurriedly from the ring, rushing out of the gym doors and shouting for Aizawa.

I watch the unmoving girl on the floor, as Mina shakes and taps her repeatedly. "Oi," I say quietly, lifting Kaminari's head from my side. When he nods in silent appreciation, sniffling, I get to my feet, striding toward the crowd that has begun to form itself around Uraraka. "Move," I say gruffly, trudging between the overwhelming amount of extras until I reach Pinky. Where the fuck is Aizawa?