Long Time Coming

It Begins Like This

His face sang with the ache of the blow that had connected. He felt his nose bend and snap, agony flashed white hot behind his eyes as blood fell freely down his chin, chest, splattering the odd formation of Eijirou's hardened skin. His mouth was pulled back in a vicious maw of righteous anger.

Because I deserve this. Bakugou reminded himself, another blow making stars erupt behind his eyes. Use it. Use it.

The pain fed the fire that dwelled within him; always hungering, always feeding - consuming all other emotions until it was the only thing Katsuki could feel. Kirishima's face was pulling back as it hardened, his eyelids vanishing, his lips peeling back to reveal the terrifying strength that had been developing over the last few years. The rock-solid man hauled Bakugou across the ring, using the momentum to throw him into one of the stone spires that jutted from the training arena. With a roar Bakugou gained his bearings, using his quirk to halt his flight just before impact, still his right leg connected with a deep echoing pain that sang up into his femur. If it wasn't fractured he'd fucking become a fucking monk. Eijirou was getting faster.

Blasting back towards Kirishima his heart clenched, his anger intensified. Red was all he saw; red and anger and pain and hate and- By the time he saw how out of control he had become reflected in his friends eyes it was too late to pull back. His forearms vibrated with the intensity of the blow to come, his hands dripping sweat. The explosion was larger, more forceful, than he'd intended. The smoke drifted up into his eyes as he heard the sharp cracking of Kirishima's quirk breaking and splintering. Bakugou fell to the ground with jarring force, shoving himself onto unsteady feet. He was spent. He was done. He'd used everything he had up on fighting his friend... his heart dropped and damn if he didn't immediately wish he could hit rewind. Delete. Undo. Desperate, overwrought he fell to his knees - body trembling from exertion and agony.

This was it.

Bakugou looked down at his raw, clenched hands. His muscles trembled and his bones ached. He'd pushed himself too far, too hard. It had been almost too much... His gaze lifted, one eye swollen nearly shut. The gash on his forehead bled freely though he wasn't worried about the wound. It wasn't deep. His muscles screamed as he hauled himself to his feet. Everything hurt; everything was bruised. He was pretty sure he had fractured his left foot; it sang in a sharp agony that matched his right shin as he stepped forward. He wanted to just blast himself across the room but after that last attack he knew better.

The red head pushed himself onto bleeding forearms from where he was sprawled along the ground; the skin of his arms was scorched and peeling. Blisters bubbled where his quirk had faltered and given away; littering his forehead, his arms, his chest and shoulders. The smell of burnt skin made Bakugou's stomach heave and twitch in revulsion. He swallowed the bile. He would not vomit, he would not show weakness. He would be number one someday and number one did not back away from the gore of battle. He let Kirishima watch him walk slowly across the battle damaged grounds, he absorbed every heart wrenching detail; the broken face mask, the hair no longer stiff and spiked but singed and falling in mangled clumps. The dirt and ash smeared face streaked with blood, sweat, and -

Bakugou bit back a gasp, his gait faltered for a half-second. Tears.

Fuck.

He had known that their clashing way of doing things would have eventually come to a head. He had known that they would eventually fight over the difference in their moralities. He hadn't meant to - he'd never intended-

His eyes widened as Kirishima forced himself to stand, knees weak, shoulders drooping. Blood spattered from his fingertips. Each splash echoed like a gunshot in Bakugou's ears. It took everything in the blond not to rush forward and support his best friend. His only friend - his... He shook his head, trying to quell the bleeding heart within him. He'd hurt his friend. He'd hurt- He shook his head as horror swept over him at what he had done. Reality slapped him sharply.

"Fuck..." His arms moved out helplessly as an offer of support, as though it would do something to ease what he had done. "Fuck-"

Kirishima flinched away and that hurt far more than any of the blows or damage had. The red head's eyes never left Bakugou's face, glaring, accusing... something darker lurking in the depths that Katsuki wasn't sure he'd ever be able to repair. Something feral, angry, broken, and wild. Something so very similar to what he saw every morning when he was looking in the mirror.

"I'm done."

"Eiji-"

"No." His voice was low but powerful. It rumbled through his chest and reverberated in Bakugou's head like a curse. "No." He shook his head, flinching and grabbing at his shoulder. "I won't do this with you anymore." His voice broke as he looked down, finally breaking eye contact. "It isn't manly." He reiterated, "It isn't honorable to treat people the way you do." He spat.

Bakugou felt his heart seize, his chest clench. No.

"I'm not your goddamn babysitter, Bakugou!" his voice cracked with a sob "I deserve better than being your clean up crew whenever you fuck someone over!" His hand slapped against his chest, "You don't deal with the consequences of your actions, I do. Everyone else does! And I just-" His shoulders sagged, trembled, hiccuped, "I just can't anymore. You aren't allowed to take advantage of me anymore..." His voice whispered before rising to a shout, "In case you haven't notice you fucking asshole - I've got problems just like you do-"

"But you never-"

"No!" Eijirou cut him off, clenching his fists at his sides, "No I don't. I don't use my problems to hurt other people, I don't use my crippling self-doubt to cut everyone down."

"Just because you're a goddamned door mat-" Bakugou spat, his fists popping in response, powering through the pain of his quirk. "I won't bow down to anyone and here you are, bowing to everyone."

"That's a fucking lie and you know it." Eijirou's voice dropped it's venom.

He sounded tired, bored. And damn Bakugou knew why. They'd only had some version of this conversation weekly for the last three years they'd known one another - though it had never been so violently executed before. Bakugou knew, somewhere in himself - in his heart of hearts - that Kirishima was right. He knew it, he knew it. The red head stumbled, falling to the ground. Instinctively Katsuki moved to his side as the door burst open.

"Bad timing." Eijirou grinned, his razor teeth on display in a way that half made Bakugou worry he'd bite him and half worry that the man had truly gone mad. "I know you didn't mean it." His friend whispered, large hand clasping over Bakugou's battle damaged one. "I know - but... please, please leave me alone. For a while. For... a long while." His eyes shifted away, the bruise on his face spreading to brag of a broken nose. "Get some fucking help bro."

"What happened?" Deku's voice echoed in the destroyed room.

Voices and clambering of panic rose in the room as people poured in. They probably had caused quite a stir - they were loud fighters after all. Bakugou watched as a group of teachers and classmates grabbed Kirishima, obviously the worse for wear, and dragged him away. His heart twisted at the sight of his friend - at knowing he'd done it. He avoided the accusatory glare of Kaminari and Sero, the somehow knowing look of Aizawa as he motioned for the next group to gather Bakugou and bring him to the nurses ward.

"Was it a villain attack?"

Yes.

It might as well have been.