Something Further than the Universe

Chapter VIII ~ A Bit of a Bad Idea

A/N: I've been working on this all week, and I'm happy to say it's finally finished! I'm relatively proud of this chapter, but I'm a bit iffy on the whole first scene. I tried to include some Kiribaku, but I don't know how people will feel about it so I included some notes about it at the end of the chapter. Also, I know there aren't many scenes between Mina and Izuku, but this is meant to mostly be a bridge chapter for the next part of the story. Don't worry, the next few chapters will be chalk full of IzuMina moments!

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Kirishima reckoned his dream was that of a memory when Bakugo, casually standing outside his bedroom door, asked him how many Crimson Riot posters he had, which was kind of ironic since he'd find out in a few seconds anyway. He twisted the doorknob and pushed it forward, and he had this slightly disturbed look on his face when he was greeted by a display of any and all things Crimson Riot-related.

Although he didn't like to think about it very often, Kirishima knew this memory like the back of his hand. It was the first time he'd hung out with Bakugo outside of school, and it took a lot of convincing to get him on board with it.

It was weird—he was supposedly lucid dreaming, but he just had to lay there and let the memory play out on its own, because his body and mine weren't in line. He hated the feeling of losing control, but at least the recollection was a good one. He wouldn't have woken himself up if his life depended on it.

Bits and pieces of what Kirishima could remember had been changed to his liking, such as Bakugo's attitude. It was toned down a couple of notches, and every now and then he would even smile. It was kind of weird to think about, actually. Bakugo smiling. Now that was a rarity if he'd ever seen one.

The Bakugo in his dreams was sitting on the hardwood floor while he was laying restlessly atop his bed sheets, glancing at his ill-tempered friend every so often when he thought he wasn't looking. For the most part, they were talking about Crimson Riot, but accustomed to the dreamlike state he was in, the conversation would get a little off topic at times. Kirishima would have to reel it back in when it did.

"You're almost as bad as Deku with his freaking All Might obsession," Bakugo mentioned, snarling at the mention of Izuku's name. He didn't tch, surprisingly.

Kirishima glanced sideways at him, trying to swallow down the hurt. He'd been called a fanboy plenty of times before, but to be compared to Izuku? Now that was harsh. "Nah, I don't know about that. Midoriya's worse than me, at least."

"Oh, really? When's the last time you've been in your room, Shitty Hair? Because it's pretty fucking bad."

He narrowed his eyes. "I brought you over here to hang out and you're still gonna call me Shitty Hair?"

"Tch. Fine then, Kirishima. Happy now?"

He scoffed. That was a very Bakugo-esque thing to say. But he had called him Kirishima instead of Shitty Hair, so there was that, at least. He rarely called anyone by name, but if Kirishima could narrow it down to one person he did it to the most, it would be him. So instead of scowling, he smiled and said, "Very!"

"Don't go getting all starry-eyed on me. Fucking weirdo."

What he said next, Kirishima wasn't prepared for. And it was exactly how he'd remembered it, too—word for word.

"You know something, Kirishima? You're pretty damn cool compared to the rest of the shitheads in our class. You've got something they don't."

He hadn't meant for it to be romantic, but Kirishima's heart was having trouble understanding that, pounding uncontrollably against the front of his rib cage. At the time, he couldn't put a finger on why, and he simply had to hide his blush before Bakugo got the wrong idea. Now he did, obviously—now that all these tell-tale signs were flaring back up in his dreams, threatening to bring back his feelings with them.