Sunshine (BNHA fanfic rewrite)

Night Terrors

Kirishima felt his pulse race as he was flung into the air, his two classmates gripping onto him tightly as they propelled him across the edge of the icy runway. He glanced back, where he could see the figures of the remaining pair, Todoroki's icy body becoming smaller as he was charged away.

'Focus', Eijiro reminds himself, glancing over to where Bakugou stood, surrounded by Villains, completely cornered. Almost completely cornered, that is. Kirishima took a deep breath before reaching out his hand, to where his best friend helplessly stood, and yelling, as loudly as he could  manage"COME ON!!". The spikey haired boy's head shot up, to where his classmates were flying over him, the grin that appeared on his face almost audible as he shot Shigaraki a smirk, before taking off towards Eijiro. 

The sound of the explosions was almost deafening as Bakugou came closer and closer, his hand reaching further towards Kiri's. Almost there. Katsuki used one more blast to get close enough to the boys, his arm outstretched to meet his friend's. All Kirishima could think about, in that moment, was how much he just wanted to hold onto him and not let go, how when they got back to the dorms Bakugou would probably yell at them for being reckless, how they'd laugh about his expolsive attitude, how they could get Sato to bake a celebratory cake or something, how they would be happy and how Kirishima would never let anyone hurt his friend again

but Katsuki's hand slipped

and he fell-

Kirishima's eyes suddenly shot open, he placed one of his hands over his chest, where he could feel the fast rising and falling of his breathing, and let the other one run through his hair, which fell loosely over his forhead. Allowing himself a few moments to calm himself, he glanced around, wiping the cold sweat off his forehead. He was laying on his bed, in his room, in his class' dorm building. Shuffling slightly, he turned to check the time. 

4:20am

Normally his friends would make some sort of joke, that he hardly understood, but would laugh at anyway, but his friends weren't here and he didn't feel like joking.

Of course, he had had nightmares before. Everyone in their class had. Sometimes about the attacks on the USJ, the kidnapping on the training camp, occationally about the rescue of Eri, and anything in between. Eijrio's dreams usually centred around a few key momements. Mainly when he took Bakugo's hand, and when he fought Rappa.

The regularity of the dreams didn't make them any easier.

Slowly sitting up,  he managed to slip out of bed and out the door to the common area. He didn't have a plan in mind, he just wanted to be away from his room, maybe he could get a snack and sit on the sofa for a while before going back to bed and passing out. 

As he entered the common area, he realised instantly that he wasn't the only one downstairs. His teacher sat at a chair, paperwork spread across the table, with his forehead pressed firmly against it. Sleeping. Around him were some other small iteams, like a half empty coffee mug a drained apple sauce packet and a thin blanket that was pooled around his feet. It was almost comical. Kirishima let out a soft sigh before picking up the blanket and draping it over Aizawa's sleeping form. Silently, he moved towards the fridge, opening it to see if there was anything he could take and eat quietly. He decides on a pot of yogurt and an apple, and closes it and moves over to the sofa, feeling his weight sinking into the soft cushions.

It took him far longer than he would like to admit to finish eating the small snacks, as each time he would take a bit he couldn't help reminding himself of the taste of his own blood in mouth as he protected Fatgum from an onslaught of deadly punches, and by the time he had finished, Sensei was stirring, shuffling slightly under the blanket. Kirishima took this as his invitation to leave, he didn't want Aizawa asking about why he was downstairs so early in the morning. 

He stepped into the elevator, not noticing his teacher's blurred, tired gaze on his back.

Once he reached his room again he paused at the handle, glancing to the door directly next to his own. Bakugou's. It had been quite a while since the kidnapping but sometimes Bakugou would still wake up gasping. Kirishima could tell that his friend was still upset over All Might's... retirement, he had said as much on multiple occasions, before yelling at Eijiro to keep his mouth shut about the whole 'vulnerability' thing.

As much as Kirishima wanted to talk about his feelings, to just open up and cry until he couldn't cry anymore, to scream at the top of his lungs how he much he was hurting, he knew everyone else was already dealing with their own issues, adding his own weaknesses onto that was nothing short of selfish.

Bakugou was an odd case, really. At first he was nothing more than an egotistical maniac with a superiority complex, but now, Kirishima could see past that, past all of that yelling and swearing and screaming about how he's better than anyone else, right down to the hurt, worried, anxious boy that covered his insecurities with loud words and threats. Once you got past the threat of having half your head blown off, he was actually good company, knowing when to be thoughtful and honest and when to beat the shit out of everyone in a particularly competitive game of Mario Kart. He chuckled at the thought, how Bakugou proclaimed himself the "King of Mother Fucking Mario Kart" and rubbed his victory in everyone's faces.

He just wished that he could be as happy as him.

Don't get him wrong, he loved hanging out with the "Bakusquad" as they called themselves, but sometimes he just felt... uneasy. Like there was a part of him that wanted to stay gloomy and dark for the rest of his life, to drag the rest of him down into the depths of his repressed memories and keep him there forever.

And he could never quite understand why.

Like, some days he would feel relatively normal, not completely fine but like he was cruising through the day. And other days he just felt like he could never muster the strength to get out of bed. It was strange to say the least. Not only that, but sometimes Kaminari would punch him lightly in the shoulder as a joke, and he would flinch back, already feeling his arms peeling away and his hardening quirk cracking under the immense pressure, occasionally Sero would pat him on the back after a job well done, but all Kirishima would feel was the weight of his body cracking against a wall after getting flung across the room by Rappa, and when Mina would grab his hand to tug him to over to watch a movie with the other boys he would tense up, her hand reminding him so much of Eri's, as it clutched him tightly while she cried and shook helplessly, sobbing about nightmares of her own.

He didn't like it one bit.

He knew he would never tell anyone, if he did he would probably end up breaking down all of the walls he spent so long building up, and he would have to start from scratch. How was he supposed to support his friends when he himself was weak?

At that thought, he sighed and pressed his hand against the door handle, stepping into his room again and closing the door behind him.

He might as well get ready for school while he was at it.