Kiribaku Fanfic

Kirishima sat on the edge of the training grounds, watching as Bakugo furiously punched the air, his palms sparking with small explosions. The sun had already begun to set, casting a warm orange glow across the field, but Bakugo’s intensity didn’t waver for a second.

“Dude, you’ve been going at it for hours,” Kirishima said, pushing himself off the ground and walking toward Bakugo. “You’re gonna wear yourself out.”

“Tch, like hell I would,” Bakugo snapped, his breath ragged but his movements unrelenting. “I don’t get tired. I’m not weak.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes. “No one’s saying you’re weak, man. But you don’t have to prove yourself every second of the day.”

Bakugo stopped mid-punch and turned to glare at Kirishima. His crimson eyes were fierce, but there was something else hidden in them, something more vulnerable. Kirishima was used to that look by now—Bakugo would never admit it, but he pushed himself so hard because he never felt like he was good enough. Not for All Might, not for the world, not even for himself.

“You’re always running your mouth,” Bakugo growled, but there was less venom in his voice than usual. “You don’t get it.”

Kirishima sighed, stepping closer. “Maybe I don’t. But I know you’re more than just explosions and rage. You’re the strongest guy I know, and not because of your quirk. You don’t have to keep beating yourself up to prove it.”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening. “Shut up. You think I care what you think?”

“Yeah, actually, I do,” Kirishima said, his voice steady but soft. “Because I care about you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Bakugo looked like he’d been hit with a sudden shockwave. His eyes widened, and for once, he didn’t have a quick retort ready. Kirishima had caught him off guard, and in the silence, the sound of their breathing filled the space between them.

Bakugo’s eyes flicked away, his expression unreadable as he turned his back on Kirishima. “You’re an idiot,” he muttered, but there was a hint of something softer in his tone. Something more honest.

Kirishima felt his heart race a little, but he stayed calm, walking up to stand beside Bakugo. He didn’t push any further, didn’t need to. Just being there was enough. They’d always been close, ever since their first days at U.A., and Kirishima knew that Bakugo’s tough exterior was just a shield for the guy who cared too much, who felt too deeply.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Kirishima said quietly. “I know how you are.”

Bakugo scoffed, shaking his head. “You think you know me so well?”

“I do,” Kirishima replied, smiling softly. “And I think you’re amazing, just the way you are.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Bakugo didn’t move, his back still turned, but his hands unclenched slightly, the sparks from his palms fading.

“You’re so damn annoying,” Bakugo said, but there was no anger behind it. Just resignation. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of warmth.

Kirishima chuckled, stepping closer until they were shoulder to shoulder. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Bakugo huffed but didn’t argue. Instead, he finally looked up at the fading sky, his face softening in the dim light. “Don’t get any stupid ideas, shitty hair. Just… don’t leave, alright?”

Kirishima blinked, surprised by the sudden admission. It wasn’t a grand confession, not by Bakugo’s standards, but it was as close to one as Kirishima would get. And that was enough.

“Not going anywhere,” Kirishima said, his voice steady, filled with conviction. “Not unless you want me to.”

Bakugo didn’t reply, but his silence said more than any words could. He didn’t want Kirishima to leave, didn’t want to be alone. And in that quiet, shared space, where words weren’t necessary, they both understood each other a little better.

They stood there, side by side, as the last rays of the sun disappeared below the horizon. No explosions, no bravado—just two heroes finding comfort in each other’s presence.