An Unreasonable Amount of Pilots: A KiriBaku Story

Chapter 3

<  CW  - depression, anxiety, self-harm mention, suicidal thoughts, semi- implied eating disorders >

The sound of crickets chirping wakes me up, and I take a long, slow breath before opening my eyes.

Where the hell am I?

The bed I'm laying on creaks as I sit up. This is... most certainly not my room. I rub at my eyes as I look around, taking in a Crimson Riot anime poster plastered to the wall across from me, along with a desk, dresser, and a couple of figurines on the windowsill to my right.

This must be... Kirishima's room, considering the decor. I've never been to his house before, so that explains why I didn't recognize the place. But... How did I get here? My brow furrows.

And.. what the- A familiar head of tousled bright red hair is laying on the bed beside me, breathing softly where his face is propped up on one of his arms, the rest of his body slouched on the floor next to the bed.

Is it nighttime? Then what the hell did I do this afternoon?? Was I with Kirishima? The last thing I seem to remember is... being carried? I remember the swaying of someone walking.. And then maybe driving somewhere?

Wait-

The memories crash back into me in nauseating waves; Having a panic attack in the boy's bathroom, sobbing into Kirishima's chest for a half-hour, and then... fainting I guess. I feel my breath catch as I remember that mom's dead. I'm never going to see her again... Although- A new thought invades my mind, and my breath catches.

As... as her only living relative I...

I have to arrange her funeral.

I feel nauseous again and clutch a hand to my mouth, stumbling out of bed. I slam into the door before realizing I have to open it, scrambling out of the room and stumbling through the hallway in an attempt to find the bathroom. I blindly claw open doors until I find his bathroom before falling on the floor and throwing up in the toilet again, retching until I finally stop, tears pricking my eyes and falling onto the cold tile floor.

I hear a soft "Bakugou", and look up to see Kirishima standing in the doorway, sleepily rubbing his eyes. I must've woken him up when I slammed into the door. He pads over to me and sits down against the wall, opening his arms, and this time I don't hesitate to sink into them, crying quietly. He gently runs his fingers through my hair and whispers words of reassurance over and over again until I've stopped shaking and crying.

"F-fuck. I'm sorry, K-Kirishima" I stammer into his chest, tears staining the fabric of his t-shirt as I try to calm myself down.

"Bakugou, I said that I'd always be here for you and I mean that. It's ok to need support!" He says with a small smile. "Here," He takes one of my hands and puts it on his chest, and without thinking I curl my fingers into the soft fabric. "Breathe when I do, ok?"

He takes a deep breath, keeping eye contact to make sure that I'm following along, and I try to match his but it comes out choppy, my lungs - those bastards - trying to hyperventilate again. His breath is cool on my skin as he breathes out, taking my other hand and putting it on my chest so that I can feel our breathing gradually falling into sync. I try to concentrate on matching our breaths for several minutes, eyes falling shut until I open them to find Kirishima smiling at me. "You did it." He says, and I realize that I'm breathing steadily. Another deep breath slowly fills my lungs.

"Thank- th-thank you... Or whatever." I mumble ducking my head again so I don't have to look him in the eye. I can't even fucking thank him without being an asshole. He's letting me stay at his house and didn't leave me through not one, but two panic attacks.