The Return [Kiribaku]

Prickling Skin

Kiri

The door opens a few minutes later and Bakugou plops next to me silently.

"...Everything okay?"

"Do something for me," he says after a moment. He turns to face me, avoiding my gaze and tugging my hand into both of his.

"Sure?"

"Flex your hand muscles. Hard." He remains looking downward as he speaks.

I swallow the questions on my tongue, instead clenching the muscles in my palm and fingers. Slowly, as I watch in awe, hard skin-like plates begin to form across my palm and wrist, fingernails shifting to become sharp and jagged. 

I fall back in shock, releasing my muscles and snatching my hand from Bakugou's grasp. "What the- what," I pant, feeling tears tremble across my eyes.

"Hey." Bakugou reaches for me, but I scramble backward, school supplies forgotten.

Climbing shakily to my feet, I try to ignore the way my arms feel foreign, alien, where they hang at my sides. I discard Bakugou's disgruntled reassurances, instead rushing for the door and into the hallway. Knowing the blonde is close behind me, I pivot and yank open the familiar closet door, shrouding my glistening cheeks in terrifying dark.

"Kirishima!" Bakugou's footsteps stomp past before going silent.

I lower myself into a tight corner, pulling my knees to my chest and trying to calm the panic spreading rapidly through it. 

The familiar burning sparks in my pupils, until I have no choice but to squeeze my eyelids shut and bite back my whimpers, unconsciously picking at the skin on my legs all the while. As the walls become more apparent in the dark room, the gray leers at me, seemingly reaching closer as I sink further into myself.

Suddenly the door is thrust open, and light paints the now white walls.

I clench my shaking fists as I shift my gaze up into Bakugou's.

Silently, he flips the light switch and shuts the door behind him, moving to sit against the closet wall next to me.

I study his thoughtful scowl until he meets my gaze, an eyebrow quirking slightly as he waits for me to speak.

"I, uh...sorry for freaking out," I manage finally, staring down at my knees. "I guess I didn't really think about the possibility that I could have a quirk. No one mentioned it and...I guess I sorta thought if I did, I would remember it. Makes me scared of all the other core shit I forgot."

Without a word he reaches to caress my hand, tracing familiar patterns into the skin. "...Aizawa's on his way," he says finally, keeping his gaze locked onto the shining white tile under us.

"What? Why?" I feel myself tense again, instinctively pulling my hand from Bakugou's and tucking it against my chest.

He gives a quiet sigh before meeting my trembling gaze. "He has to evaluate whether you can control your quirk well enough to come back to school."

"But..." I trail off, racking my brain for any information on UA. "What does that matter for going to school?"

Bakugou jolts a moment, before swiveling his legs to face me. "It's a quirk school, Kirishima. For becoming heroes." I only stare at him, so he continues. "You know, pro heroes? All Might? Eraserhead?...Crimson Riot?" He looks continuously desperate as he goes down the list of 'pro heroes,' but my eyes remain blank. He trails off finally, sitting back against the wall. "Fuck..."

Unfamiliar guilt makes its way through me as I watch Bakugou's eyes flick between mine and the floor, his eyebrows pinched almost at his lashes. 

I want to reach for him, squeeze the worry from his gut, but I only hug my knees tighter as he absentmindedly picks at his wrist, fingernails almost bending with the force he uses to attack his skin.

Finally, he huffs out a sigh. "I'm gonna go wait for Aizawa."

I focus on blinking the hot tears from my eyes as the door shuts behind him.

Baku

Fuck my entire life.

"Bakugou." 

I glance up from my lap and into Aizawa's tired eyes, immediately rising from my seat in the back of the waiting room. I only give a small 'tch,' before shoving my hands into my pockets and making my way toward the stairs. No way am I going to survive a silent elevator ride with my teacher, frustration still simmering in my palms.

Kirishima is hunched atop his mattress when I creak his door open, blank eyes widening at the sudden noise. "Oh, hey man," he says, the crease between his brows deepening when he notices our teacher over my shoulder. "Mr. Aizawa."

"Hey, kid." Aizawa moves past me as I shut the door, sitting next to Kiri's drooping form on the stiff bed.

The redhead gives a small smile that leaves his eyes dim. "What's up, teach," he manages weakly, earning a slight chuckle from the bedraggled man next to him.

"I just want to ask you a few questions regarding your quirk."

I settle myself against the door, watching Kirishima's frantic eyes while he struggles to keep his anxiety in check. I continue to keep a close eye as Kiri models his hardened hands, occasionally croaking out clipped responses to Aizawa's slow and crafted questions.

Finally Aizawa straightens up and pushes to his feet. "Alright, kid. I think you're all good. We can start your move to the UA dorms this afternoon."

"...This afternoon?" Kirishima fidgets with a few fingers, gaze dancing between Aizawa's drooping eyes and my watchful gaze.

"Mhm. Classes start tomorrow." At Kirishima's silence, he gives the redhead's shoulder a soft pat. "I'll let you finish packing, alright? I'll be in the black car out front." Giving me a nod as I shift from the door, he sweeps past and into the hallway.

Silently, I pull the maroon backpack from its place against the bed and begin filling it with supplies. As I sort through the stacks of materials next to Kirishima, he catches my wrist, slightly hardened fingers digging into my skin with an iron grip. "...Dumb Hair?"

"Look." Dark eyes catch mine as he stares up at me. "You should just stop, alright? I don't...I can't..." The resolve in his gaze falters, red irises swimming with something unrecognizable. His mouth moves desperately, silent pleas making their way across the small space between us.

I kneel to catch his head on my shoulder as he sinks forward, deadweight against me. "Kiri, look at me."

He doesn't move, grip unwavering as the skin on my wrist begins to ache.

"Kiri. Look at me."

The pain gets impossibly sharper as hard plates dig into me, rough fingernails trapping the quick pulsing under my skin.

"Kirishima. Shit!" I tug my arm against his grasp, gasping as my blood drips from below his sharpened fingers. "Jesus fucking- Kirishima let me go!"

Only then does he lift his head from the crook of my neck, stiffening as he registers the pained grimace across my features. "What..." His eyes trail to the blood across his hand, the wrist in its grasp growing increasingly purple as he stares in horror. 

"Holy-" He rips his hand from me, teary eyes tracking my face as I fall forward tugging the bruising limb to my stomach.

"Agh- fuck," I grunt, gritting my teeth as pain makes its way into my fingers and up my arm.

"Sorry- I'm sorry," the boy cries from above me, desperation pooling from his words as he sinks to the floor beside me. Reaching for my arm, he flinches slightly as I shift backward avoiding his gaze.

"Just-" I bite out, squinting my eyes against the wetness threatening to make its way down my cheeks. I feel my face heat - from embarrassment or anger, I can't tell - as I push roughly to my feet. "Just grab your shit, and let's go." 

I steel my features into a scowl and shove my throbbing wrist into the pocket of my sagging sweatpants, keeping an eye on the redhead as I stalk toward the door.

"Right," he mutters after a moment, tugging the backpack from where it rests atop the crumpled sheets. "Yeah, okay."

I feel his eyes against my prickling skin all the way to Aizawa's waiting car.

Sorry this one is kinda short <3