Chapter Text
Kirishima stands in front of the imposing door that seems to tower over him, looming like a huge, foreboding roadblock the more he stares at it. He fidgets nervously with the hem of his t-shirt, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks, stomach swirling with butterflies, his breath coming out in short spurts. His heart races as he hesitantly raises a hand to knock on the door. His hands were sweating profusely, putting Bakugou’s to shame as he desperately tried to wipe them on his shorts, telling himself over and over to get a grip. This was Bakugou he was talking about. Bakugou Katsuki, who had a ridiculously short temper, but also the patience of a saint, whom he had known for two years now. Bakugou Katsuki, who he trusted with his life, the two of them forming an unbreakable trust that nothing could shatter, even (hopefully) the fact that Kirishima has been in love with him for almost a year now. Nothing could change the friendship they shared, and Kirishima knew they were too important to each other to let this get in the way.
Except…
Except Kirishima’s lovely and beautiful mind loved to play out the worst-case scenario and Kirishima saw the door getting slammed in his face, or worse, Bakugou refusing to talk to him ever again, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with all their interactions. God, what if Bakugou thought he was weird or unmanly for having a crush on his best friend? That was… Well, that would be devastating , losing a friend like Bakugou. They were constants in each other’s lives, and he could very well fuck it all up and ruin everything because god forbid Kirishima does something right. He gulps, his hands trembling slightly.
Maybe Kirishima should just turn around. It was stupid. It wasn’t as if his emotions were really important, anyways. Besides, what Bakugou didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Technically, no one was really forcing him to tell Bakugou about his cluster of romantic feelings that bubbled up everytime the blond did literally anything , topping the potentially disastrous confession off by tentatively asking Bakugou out on a date like a cliche rom-com. The only ones who really had their hopes set were Kirishima’s ridiculously supportive friends who definitely didn’t know when to back off.
But… then Kirishima reminded himself of all the months he had hid things from Bakugou, actively breaking their carefully acquired trust because he couldn’t just man up and confront his feelings like a normal human being.
Bakugou deserved to know, even if the confession was unwanted. Kirishima needed to be transparent, to ease everyone’s consciousness, but especially his own. The unknown of whether or not Kirishima was right to read their interactions as more than friends or not was painful , his emotions constantly rollercoasting between fluttering hearts and doubts. He couldn’t take the constant closeness and hope that continued to fester in his chest. He knew that the overwhelming sensation would finally stop as soon as he figured out what was going on behind Bakugou’s furrowed brow, and he knew that Bakugou would want to know something as important as this. What he chose to do with that information was up to him, but he needed to know, no matter what happened after.
Steeling his resolve, he clenched his fists tighter, softly knocking on the door’s wooden frame. There’s a moment of tense silence before Kirishima finally hears some things being thrown around and the scrape of a chair, Bakugou’s signature stomps echoing through the room. They stop when he gets to the door, not wasting a moment before the door is thrown open, revealing Bakugou in his full glory, complete with a furious scowl on his face. He was upset over something, and for a fraction of a second, Kirishima begins to roll with that as an excuse to just leave it alone, knowing that Bakugou was obviously not in the mood to deal with his emotional shit today. Kirishima shakes his head, trying to clear it of those thoughts. No, he needed to ask him out today, right now, before he lost the nerve and continued pining.
“What do you want, Shitty Hair?” Bakugou says, crossing his arms tightly. His eyelids seemed almost droopy, prominent, purple eyebags shadowing his face, so dark they could rival Shinso’s as he glowered at Kirishima, who fidgets some more, scratching his neck.
“Hey man uh…. I don’t really know how to ask this….”
“Just spit it out,” Bakugou says curtly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kirishima takes a deep breath, scuffing his sneakers against the floor before standing up straight, looking right into Bakugou’s red eyes.
“Do you…. maybe…. want— want to go out with me? Like maybe this weekend?” Kirishima stutters hopefully, anxiously cracking his knuckles in a way that probably didn’t add to the romantic effect. Bakugou stares at him for a moment, his eyes narrowing.
“I already told you, I have a shit ton of work to do.”
“Oh yeah, yeah! That’s cool. I mean, we don’t have to do it this weekend, we could do some other day…” Kirishima bites his lip. Bakugou huffs.
“Look, Shitty Hair, I have a lot going on right now with school and my work study, I can’t have any fucking distractions or else shitty Deku is going to think he’s better than me. It’s a hard no.”
“Yeah, yeah! Okay, yeah,” Kirishima gulps, blinking rapidly as his cheeks burn with shame, “I hear ya. I’ll see you later, alright?”
“Fine.” Bakugou closes the door between them and Kirishima, sinks to the ground, sighing.
Well, it could’ve gone better.
“That bitch ,” Mina says, looking way too offended considering she wasn’t the one getting rejected.
“Guys, it really isn’t that big of a deal,” Kirishima says, trying to diffuse the situation. Sero leans back on Kaminari’s bed, staring at the ceiling, arms thrown carelessly behind his head, black hair just the slightest bit ruffled.
“I don’t know, man. It sounded like he was kinda rude,” he says, casting a glance at Kirishima.
“I mean, that’s Bakugou, isn’t it?” Kaminari chimes in from the corner of the room without looking up from his game. The switch makes insistent beeping noises as Kaminari jams the buttons, biting his lip as he frantically attacks whatever opponent he’s facing on-screen. Kirishima flops down on the floor beside him, sighing morosely.
“I get it, though…. I guess. He wants to focus on school and being the number one hero. That hasn’t really changed since the first year. I’m not going to step on his dreams because of my feelings. In a way, it’s kind of manly of him to stick to what he wants and stop other stuff from getting in his way, yanno?” Kirishima isn’t sure why he’s trying to defend Bakugou, even though he can feel the way his heart aches with the rejection. Sure, he never wanted to be someone to get in Bakugou’s way as he paved his road to being the number one hero, but it still stung. A small, arrogant part of Kirishima had sort of thought Bakugou felt the same, despite how much his insecurities rejected the notion. He knew Bakugou treated him differently. It was a fact that was plainly obvious, and a small part of him was thoroughly convinced that proved Bakugou felt the same. But all of it was platonic, which Kirishima could live with, but he still felt the sorrow well up inside him despite his best efforts, bitterly thinking about how quickly Bakugou wrote him off, not even taking a moment to actually talk about his feelings.
Mina groans. “Oh my god, Kiri. You’re too nice, you know that?” she says, gesturing with the nail polish brush she’s using to paint her nails. “You think everyone has some deep reason for why they do things and you forgive too easily. Such a shame, my man.” Kirishima huffs, stretching his arms over his head, trying to relax the tense muscles and getting rid of any lingering tension from earlier that day.
“Whatever. It’s over and done with. Now I can just move on and get over him. I mean, that was the whole point, right? I wanna try and stop letting all these…” Kirishima waves his hand in the air, trying to emulate something that couldn’t really be conveyed through gestures, “ feelings get in the way of our friendship.”
“Whatever you say, dude,” Kaminari says, elbowing him in the side before quickly pressing buttons in rapid succession. Kirishima takes a deep breath, trying to clear his mind and let go of all his disappointment. He has to admit, even though it didn’t go the way he wanted it to, he feels lighter than ever with his feelings finally out in the open.
Now he could finally move on from the explosive blond and focus on other things. Not a problem at all. Easy peasy.
It was third year now, the disastrous confession seeming to be eons away, but Kirishima still hadn’t moved on, no matter how hard he tried. If anything, it only seemed to worsen as the two only got closer after that day. Kirishima thought that asking Bakugou out before the summer of their second year would give him time to process the potential rejection and give them distance, but Bakugou was apparently set on spending his summer with Kirishima, making excuses like “my mom wants to see you because her own son isn’t good enough.” His friends were constantly joking that he and Bakugou were attached at the hip, which wasn’t too far from the truth. Kirishima adored being around Bakugou, a light banter always surrounding them, and Bakugou didn’t seem keen on leaving Kirishima’s side once it became evident that he couldn’t just hide in his room all the time and had to attend at least some social events.
A lot of their classmates jokingly asked how Kirishima put up with him all the time. Sure, Bakugou had mellowed out a little since their first year at UA, but he was still brash and yelled a lot, boldly claiming that he would be number one and nothing could stop him. But that’s the only thing they focused on. Kirishima saw how Bakugou went grocery shopping for Sato and the others when they started to get low on baking supplies. He saw how he trained with their friends and gave them tips on how to improve, even if they didn’t come out in the nicest way. He saw how his eyes softened when they were out with their friend group, laughing about something stupid, a smile starting to etch its way onto his lips no matter how hard he tried to remove it. And, of course, there were the times they were alone. The times where Bakugou would explain math concepts to him over and over, not caring how many times it took, just making sure that Kirishima understood him. Or the times he seemed to melt with relief every time Kirishima came back from a work study mission, still in one piece, and the way he would aggressively take care of him, making sure he took his meds and redressed any bandages. Or the way he growled at any self deprecating comment Kirishima made, reminding him how much he cared.
Yeah, it was hard for Kirishima to fall out of love with Bakugou Katsuki.
Kirishima doesn’t think much of it, though, even after he’s been pining after his best friend for almost three years. Sure, it hurt, but there was nothing he could do. Bakugou made his feelings clear, and Kirishima had to respect that. He gave himself boundaries, and tried to stop staring, but the feelings festering inside of him were hard to ignore.
Especially when those feelings became something tangible.
Of course, it had to happen during class time. Maybe, if it had happened on his own time in the privacy of his room, he could’ve hidden it and certain people wouldn’t have known what was going on.
But, nothing could turn out perfectly for Kirishima Eijirou.
He had been feeling a little more lightheaded lately, vision swimming when he stood up too quickly, and sometimes, when he overexerted himself in training, he felt a sting in his lungs, the air seeming thinner and less accessible. Kirishima really didn’t think much of it. He had just recently recovered from a work study injury, not being able to work out the same ways he used to, so it made sense that he was winded when training like he used to. The weather was also changing, and flu season was at a high, so it made sense that he had a little cough, and maybe a little tightness in his chest. Sure, it was odd that he seemed to cough more when around Bakugou, but it wasn’t like it was anything serious.
It wasn’t serious.
“Today you will be working with partners to focus on strengthening your quirk. We paired you off with people who would be best suited to honing your quirk abilities, whether that be your immunity to each other’s powers, or the similarity of your power that allows you to work together. You will be focusing on quirk combat, sparring with each other in intervals of three minutes at a time. Please go to your stations now,” Aizawa says in his usual bored voice, looking like he very much would rather be taking a nap instead of training a bunch of teenagers. He dismisses them to their groups and chatter fills the gym as everyone finds places to practice, working out how to best hone their abilities.
Kirishima smiles brightly, nudging Bakugou’s side.
“Looks like you and I are paired off again today. Maybe I’ll actually beat you today,” Kirishima says with a smirk. Bakugou grins back.
“I’d like to see you try.” They fall into the steady rhythm they’re used to, having sparred with each other on countless occasions. Bakugou works on making bigger and bolder explosions while Kirishima pushes himself past his limits, increasing his mobility as he hardens his skin. They dance around each other, desperately trying to pin the other down to declare victory. Kirishima can feel his muscles going past their limits and his heart thump in his chest, his eyes trained on Bakugou’s feral smile. He dodges blasts and takes hits, looking for an opening. He just needs one slip up….
Suddenly, Bakugou comes at him from behind, catching Kirishima off guard. A large blast hits his hardened back, causing him to stumble forward. Bakugou doesn’t waste another moment, also having looked for the split second Kirishima’s guard was down. He comes at him again, hands blazing with heat, ready to pin Kirishima to the ground.
But Kirishima recovers and finds an opportunity. He lightens his hardening slightly just so he can have the smallest amount of extra mobility and wraps both hands around Bakugou’s arm.
It only works because Bakugou thinks he’s won. Kirishima’s hands clamp down, using all his strength to throw Bakugou over his shoulder where he lands on the ground with a thump . Kirishima grins, pinning his arms to his sides.
“I won,” he says through ragged breaths, a blinding grin on his face. Bakugou’s lips drop down in a pout, obviously upset with the turn of events, but Kirishima can see the fondness in his eyes.
“Fucking hell, you’re strong,” Bakugou grunts out, eyes piercing through Kirishima’s.
Suddenly, it’s as if everything becomes too much, every single one of his senses seems to go into overdrive. Every single point of contact with Bakugou seems to set his skin aflame. His heart squeezes and his chest tightens painfully, his stomach lurching at the sudden pain. He starts coughing uncontrollably, pushing himself away from Bakugou as he coughs and coughs, gasping for air like a drowning man as his body tries to dispel something , heaving violently. He couldn’t seem to stop, tears blurring his eyes. He’s vaguely aware of Bakugou asking if he was okay, and someone else asking for Aizawa. He coughs into his elbow, pulling away for a fraction of a second to see bright red blood.
Kirishima didn’t remember much after that, blacking out instantly.
Bakugou needed to know what the fuck was going on, and he needed to know it now. One minute, everything seemed to be fine, the next Kirishima passed out and they were rushing to Recovery Girl. Everyone watched the retreating figure of Aizawa carrying Kirishima, frozen in shock, not really knowing what to say or do.
Bakugou was the first to react, bolting after the teacher and following him all the way to Recovery Girl’s clinic.
“Bakugou you need to step back,” Aizawa says when he tries to force his way into the room.
“But--”
“You can see him after we figure out what’s wrong. That’s the end of it,” Aizawa says in a stern voice, closing the door between them. Bakugou huffs, definitely not pouting as he stomps over to the seats in the waiting room, slouching down in the seat, refusing to move until they let him see Kirishima.
“Oh good, he’s waking up.” Recovery Girl’s voice is the first thing Kirishima registers when he wakes up. The next is the constricting pain in his chest.
Immediately he sits up, coughing wildly into his elbow, that same, painful feeling in his chest. He feels something prickly scratch it’s way out of his throat before the coughing finally stops. He opens his eyes, pulling his elbow away from his mouth.
That’s when the panic sets in. His eyes are blown wide as he stares at the splattering of blood on his sheet and elbow. His blood. Sure , Kirishima had been around way too much blood to be healthy for a high school boy, but it was always accompanied by a wound of some sort, being a direct consequence of someone being stabbed . This was unprovoked, and various movies tell Kirishima that nothing good can come from coughing up blood.
But it wasn’t just that. He feels another cough build up in his throat, this one just as violent as the first, but then something comes out . He feels the velvety substance clog his throat and make it’s way over his tongue as he spits it out into his hands, feeling a little dizzy as he sucks in another breath.
He looks down at what’s in his hand and his blood freezes, eyes blown wide as his eyes drag over the material in his hands. It's a small flower petal, one that seems to have been taken off of a white rose that hadn’t fully bloomed, the white petals grotesquely splattered in blood. His mind seemed to finally untangle his mess of thoughts as he stared at his petals, coming up with the unhelpful reminder that he coughed the petal up .
He feels like he’s going to be sick.
“Just as I feared,” Recovery Girl says, scribbling a note on her clipboard with a concerned frown. Kirishima tears his eyes away from the flowers, looking at her with wide, terrified eyes.
“Wh-what is this?”
Recovery Girl shuffles over to her computer, pulling up some information and documents. After typing a few things in, she turns to Kirishima with a pitying look in her eyes.
“Hanahaki, dear.” Kirishima’s brow furrows, but before he can ask more, she continues. “It’s a highly rare disease that started to emerge with the development of quirks. Few people ever get it or have strong enough feelings to allow it to flourish, especially in someone so young,” she says with a frown. Kirishima shifts in his seat.
“What does that mean?”
“Well, Hanahaki is a disease contracted from an emotional response. Specifically feelings of love, at least in all the cases we’ve seen. The disease flourishes when feelings are discovered or believed to be unrequited which, unfortunately, is what I think happened to you.” Kirishima gulps, playing with the petal of one of the flowers.
“Is that all? It’s just a cough?”
“Not…. exactly. Most Hanahaki cases go unreported because they’re so minor that they’re often written off as the common flu. A simple heartbreak. However if the feelings progress into something deeper, even after the victim believes their love is truly unrequited, flowers start to blossom in their lungs.” Recovery Girl pulls up something on her computer, and after looking it over, Kirishima realizes that it’s an X-Ray.
“This is a scan we did of your chest. As you can see, your lungs seem to be suffering from the same condition.” The x-ray would almost be cool if Kirishima wasn’t worried for his life. He could see his ribs painted white and encompassing an inky blackness that he could only assume was his lungs. That would’ve been normal, however there seemed to be spider web shapes encompassing the inside of their tissue, and what appeared to be the rosebuds that haven’t bloomed yet. Kirishima gulps.
“This is where the concern lies,” Recovery Girl continues, pointing to the cluster of, well, flowers , “It seems that the flowers have already taken root in your lungs, entering the early, early stages of blooming. The concern lies with the fact that you blacked out from the pain, showing us that this is something that has been festering for a while, and it seems that you’re already approaching stage 3 of the disease.”
“I-is there a way to treat it?” Kirishima stutters, his mind whirling. Recovery Girl takes a deep breath, her lips pursed in a thin line.
“I don’t mean to worry you, dear, however you deserve to know the truth. This disease is still something we don’t know much about, however we have come up with three separate treatments that range in effectiveness. The first is obvious, being that if this person returned your feelings, the flowers would be dispelled from your system and the issue would be resolved. The second option would be to surgically remove the flowers and de-root them, however the effectiveness of this technique varies. Just because the flowers are taken out doesn't mean the feelings won’t return and we won’t find ourselves in the same situation as before.” Recovery Girl pauses.
“The last method is one that we’re fortunate to have in a world of quirks, however patients rarely opt for this option. There are specialists whose quirks deal with memory, from recovering lost memories and erasing traumatic ones. These professionals have the capability to erase memories of the person causing the emotions that triggered Hanahaki, therefore removing any attachments to them and making the victim fall out of love with them.”
“No,” Kirishima says, gritting his teeth. Recovery Girl nods, tapping her hand on Kirishima’s knee.
“Right now we’re still in the early stages, so we’ll allow you more time to think about your decision. For now, I want you to see me once a week, and I’m asking your teachers to keep an eye on you during any physical activity and pull you out when you seem to be overexerting yourself.”
“Okay,” Kirishima says numbly, staring blankly at the white walls of her office, suddenly feeling detached from the real world. He thinks she might be saying something else, but it falls on deaf ears as he processes what Hanahaki is, and how he got it. Of course he couldn’t just take Bakugou’s rejection and be done with him. Of course he had to develop some rare disease that was probably going to kill him because he couldn’t man up and get over his stupid crush.
But it wasn’t a crush, was it? Recovery Girl said this happened when someone was in love. That seemed like such a powerful word to attach to these feelings, especially when Kirishima was just barely eighteen.
But was it far from the truth? Kirishima had always felt a fierce admiration towards Bakugou. Granted, he cared about all of his friends deeply…. but Bakugou had always been different. Bakugou made him feel so many things that sometimes it crushed him under a suffocating weight of emotion that weighed more than a full grown whale.
No, Kirishima decides, it wasn’t too far-fetched to say he was hopelessly in love with Bakugou Katsuki.
Recovery Girl talks some more about the disease and the different phases he goes through, skirting around the fact that this disease is deadly if not treated in time. She stresses the importance of thinking about his decision, and lays out the different symptoms to look out for as the condition worsens.
Before Kirishima leaves, though, she stops him.
“I have one more suggestion,” she says. Kirishima nods, being uncharacteristically quiet, mind still trying to process what was happening to him. Recovery Girl takes a deep breath.
“I know it will be painful, dear, but I really do recommend that you spend less time with or even avoid the person you have these feelings for. The disease latches itself onto that unrequited love, and being in situations with them that may make your heart flutter could cause the flowers to bloom faster.”
“...Right.”
“Alright, well have a good day! And don’t worry. We caught it just in time and I will start exploring treatment options for you.”
“Thank you,” Kirishima says, flashing her a weak smile as he reaches a hand for the door, pulling it open and stepping through. It clicks behind him and Kirishima leans back against it, eyes shut tightly.
“Well that took for fucking ever, what the hell happened?” A familiar, gruff voice says. Kirishima cracks an eye open, seeing the familiar spiky blond hair and red eyes of Bakugou. Immediately, Kirishima understands what Recovery Girl was talking about.
“It’s nothing, man. Just a little cold. I guess I pushed myself too much today.”
“Bullshit. I saw you coughing up blood and overheard Aizawa and that hag talking. If you’re dying or some shit, fucking tell me instead of brushing it off, okay?” Bakugou mutters something else, but Kirishima doesn’t catch it. Shit, he should’ve known that wouldn’t have worked. As much as Kirishima loved Bakugou, the dude was pretty set on his convictions, letting nothing get in his way. If he wanted answers, he would get them. Sure, Kirishima likes his stubbornness, but there are some times where it’s really frustrating, case and point. He takes a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. It probably would be best to just tell Bakugou the truth and get it over with.
“Have you ever heard of Hanahaki?”
“What the actual fuck,” Bakugou says when Kirishima finishes his explanation, inviting himself into Kirishima’s dorm and flopping down on the bed. Kirishima sighs, taking a seat next to him.
“I know,” Kirishima says with a groan, rubbing a hand over his face. There’s a moment of silence before Bakugou shifts his position on the bed, turning over to look up at Kirishima, his jaw set determinedly.
“Well, what’re you going to do about it?” Bakugou says, his gaze intense. A thousand thoughts are running through his head, a couple of them a little too selfish for having just heard that his best friend is probably going to die—
Bakugou brushes off that thought, refusing to even think of going down that road.
“I told you what Recovery Girl said, man. It’s kinda hopeless.”
“Doesn’t the whole thing just… go away if the feelings are requited or some shit?” Bakugou shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Sure, after spending the past two years comforting each other from nightmares, Bakugou felt more comfortable having these kinds of talks with Kirishima, but they never did cross the line of talking about crushes, which was probably for the best, all things considered.
“Well, yeah, I guess.” Bakugou crosses his arms triumphantly, leaning back in his seat. Of course he was always right.
“Then stop being a coward and just tell her. It’s not like she wouldn’t feel the same way. Everyone loves you, you fucking sappy dog.” I do, Bakugou’s sappy mind supplies, to which Bakugou thoroughly enjoys imagining blowing that part of his subconscious up as he reverts his attention back to the conversation at hand. Kirishima takes a deep breath, digging his palms into his eyes.
“Wait, do you not know who it is?” Bakugou asks incredulously, hints of laughter creeping into his voice. Kirishima whirls around to look at him.
“Of course I know who it is, it's just…. it’s complicated.” Bakugou huffs.
“I’m sure it’s not complicated enough to risk your life. Just tell her and I’m sure everything will be fine and we don’t have to worry about this fucking thing.” Kirishima’s eyes latch onto his and for a moment Bakugou thinks that maybe, maybe something can go right for once in his life. He would be lying if he didn’t admit he hoped he was the one Kirishima was in love with.
It was so… so fucking stupid , all of this. Bakugou was the kid in middle school that would puff out his chest and boldly claim that he wouldn’t be tied down by the mortal chains of relationships and feelings because he happened to be above them, not really experiencing the romantic and sexual attraction of his peers. And then this idiotic redhead came along, waltzing into his life like he owned the place, full of bright, sunshiny smiles and boisterous laughter and suddenly all of Bakugou’s walls came crumbling down, his heart aching to spend every moment with Kirishima. Sometimes he was a little dense when it came to the emotional stuff, he could admit that, and even though he had never had a real crush before, he understood the feelings of love, and hoped that maybe… maybe this would be the breaking point and maybe Kirishima might admit that he feels the same. Maybe this could be fixed, and Kirishima would be okay.
“You don’t understand, Bakugou,” Kirishima says through a sigh, startling Bakugou out of his wishful thinking.
“What don’t I understand?” Kirishima runs a hand through his hair, rumpling the spikes even further, his shoulders sagging with defeat.
“I’ve already confessed to them. They don’t want me. This entire situation is hopeless.” The room went silent, the words washing over Bakugou as his mind decided how to respond to them.
It chooses anger. Red and hot, it starts to burn in his veins, unlike any other sort of anger he felt before. This was something protective, something that was fueled maybe a little on heartbreak, and was completely directed at the object of Kirishima’s affections.
They were lucky to have someone like Kirishima care so much about them, yet here he was, with his feelings still unrequited. This person captured Kirishima’s heart, and didn’t even seem to care.
Bakugou would give anything to be them.
“Hey,” Kirishima says, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Enough of this depressing stuff. You wanna play some video games?”
When Bakugou left three hours later, his mind was still spinning. In the emptiness of his room, without Kirishima’s laughter. The truth of what happened finally started to settle in on him, and not just in the short bursts of emotions from before. This time, it came at him full force.
Kirishima was in love. Kirishima was in love with someone who didn’t love him back, and who wasn’t Bakugou because Bakugou sure as hell would’ve never rejected him. Kirishima might die because of this stupid disease because he was too stubborn to just have his memories erased.
And there was nothing Bakugou could do about it.
He wasn’t going to cry. He refused to. Not when Kirishima still had so much time left. There really wasn’t even a guarantee that this disease would persist, right? After all, it was only attached to his emotions. There’s no reason those emotions couldn’t just… go away.
Bakugou perks up, immediately going to his laptop. He starts to type something into his search bar, his mind filled with ideas.
Kirishima said that the disease was still in its early stages. He said that he still had at least eight to ten months until it became an issue that required immediate treatment.
There’s nothing that says Kirishima can’t fall out of love with this person in that time frame. There’s nothing that says he couldn’t fall in love with someone else, someone who requited his feelings.
Bakugou clicks on an article, watching the loading screen come up as it pulls up a new webpage. In big, bold letters across the top it reads: “How to get any boy to fall in love with you: a step by step guide”.
Bakugou nods resolutely to himself, making up his mind.
He was going to save Kirishima.