Among the Amaryllis | B. Katsuki

One

Among the Amaryllis

One

It all starts with a handful of freshly-picked daisies.

It's Saturday, and as it is also early July, it means that the sun is burning high up in the sky, even well after the nineteenth hour. With the heat comes the discomfort of dampened skin, skin that shines with a perspiration that even a cool shadow beneath a tree wouldn't hide it. And with a spiteful scowl cutting into the length of his brow, Bakugou Katsuki is making his way home.

Unfortunately for him, it is with the company of both Mina and Kirishima, the pair dawdling as they follow their fair-haired friend along the near-empty street before them. Neither of them are particularly paying attention to their surroundings—a fact that twists Bakugou's scowl into something foul—skipping along the path as their conversation tilts to something more excited, if Bakugou is translating Kirishima's excited 'fuck yeah!' correctly.

Not that he's listening. Because, really, he isn't. He has more important things to be fretting over, such as getting home as quickly as possible so he can finally scrub away the hideously sticky sheen that clings to the nape of his neck. He's busy swearing under his breath, the corners of his mouth curling into a grimace as he angrily swipes the sweat from his throat, when a familiar block of houses appears around the next corner. His pace immediately quickens, only, it appears that he lacks any form of luck, because just as he's crossing over the road, hand already shovelling into the back pocket for his keys, there's a shrill bleat that comes from just a few paces behind him.

A scoff tumbles from the back of his throat—he doesn't even have to turn to know that Mina's about to say something stupid—but before he can yank open the front gate, a single hand clasps around the width of his bicep.

He's irritated enough to actually pause mid-stride, scarlet glare scorching as he whirls around to face her, and his mood only worsens when he catches sight of Kirishima's shit-eating grin from where he loiters at Mina's shoulder. When he meets Mina's gaze, she's already smirking up at him.

Bakugou's eyes narrow, wary.

'What?' He barks, voice gruff enough to portray his irritation, worsened by a wave of hot air that billows across his face. His features screw into an expression that Kirishima can only describe as comical, blonde brows pinching together as he reaches to wipe at the line of sweat that is now trickling down the curve of his cheek. His lips part to voice his complaint, but Mina beats him to it, unceremoniously shoving her mobile phone so close to his face that it almost decks him in the fucking nose. A huff of a curse spitting past his lips, Bakugou all but slaps it away from his line of sight, reprimanding his friend with a, 'stop that, shit-face.'

Mina's grin, totally unperturbed, only widens, 'guess what?'

Bakugou huffs, head already turning away as he continues his mission to return home. It is Kirishima who follows, laughing, 'go on, guess.'

Bakugou ignores him.

'C'mon! You're supposed to guess, Baku-bro!' Kirishima protests loudly, hands thrown into the air. He's sporting an obnoxiously large pair of sunglasses that he pauses to push up the bridge of his nose, the skin kissed a gentle golden brown, only for the frame to immediately slip back to their original position, aided by the slickness that clings to the surface of his face. Mina, on the other hand, doesn't have a single strand of hair out of place.

The sight has Bakugou sneering.

'You gonna tell me or what?'

Mina isn't bothering to hide her triumphant smile as Kirishima bellows a gleeful laugh that has his jaw tipping back all the way to the sky. Bakugou's nose crinkles, his disapproval plastered across his face. He knows that laugh; they're plotting something, which, from what Bakugou has learnt the hard way, means nothing good.