Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“If you want to go, then go by yourself,” Bakugou scoffed. “I’m gonna kill that warp gate.”

“What?” Kirishima replied. “You’re gonna act childish at a time like this?”

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, whipping around to face Kirishima. “That gate bastard is the enemy’s way in and out. I’m gonna cut off their getaway route for when the time comes. It’s not like we don’t have a way to fight the fog.” A villain jumped at Bakugou only to fall right into his hands – or rather, into his explosions. Although Kirishima expected Bakugou to brag or gloat or at least smile about his victory, Bakugou looked nonchalant as he held up the villain for Kirishima to see. As if he held a head of rotten lettuce rather than a human being. “Anyway, if these small fry are the ones assigned to us, pretty much everyone’ll be fine, right?”

Kirishima couldn’t help but smile. “Were you always so calm and rational? I thought you were more like, ‘Die die die!’”

Bakugou tossed the villain aside, turned his back to Kirishima, and stepped toward the building’s exit. “Then go if you want to!”

“Wait!”

To his surprise, Bakugou stopped in his tracks. Bakugou turned around, apparently waiting for Kirishima to continue.

“Believing in our friends? That’s real manly, Bakugou!” Kirishima smiled even wider, slamming his hardened fists together. “I’ll follow you!”

Bakugou neither smiled nor scowled. He just held Kirishima’s gaze. “Friends, huh?” he asked so quietly that Kirishima barely caught his words. Bakugou turned away so quickly that Kirishima barely caught his smile. It wasn’t the savage grin when Bakugou charged into battle or the malicious smirk when he taunted villains and heroes alike. No, this was a different kind of smile – smaller, softer, not at all Bakugou.

“Are you coming or not, shitty hair?” Bakugou demanded, his voice returning to its usual volume and tone.

“It’s Kirishima!” he reminded, trailing behind Bakugou. He unhardened his arms so he could wipe the sweat off his forehead. He could blame the sweat solely on their fight with the villains. But Kirishima knew it was something more than that. It was something about the man that he wanted to follow. It was the way Bakugou swung those heavy gauntlets on his arms with each step, the way his boots thudded against the concrete, the way he smiled as he stepped into battle. But Kirishima couldn’t spend too much time daydreaming about the hero marching ahead of him. He had to focus on the battle even farther ahead.

On his own, Kirishima didn’t know if he could face the villains head-on. After all, his past encounters with villains left him frozen in fear, in hesitation. With Bakugou by his side, Kirishima knew that they’d succeed. Bakugou didn’t hesitate. And if he was afraid, Bakugou didn’t let it show. Kirishima wasn’t surprised that he followed such a manly hero. What did surprise him was that Bakugou let him follow.

“Kirishima.”

Kirishima stopped in his tracks, flustered by the sound of his own name. “Huh?”

“You’re thinking too much,” Bakugou said. “It’s pissing me off.”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Kirishima confessed, trying to refocus on the world around him – the world that Bakugou had shaped. Behind him: the building’s shattered windows, the crackling flame from Bakugou’s explosions, and the villains that the duo had defeated together. Ahead of him: the smell of nitroglycerin – surprisingly sweet, less like something used for explosions and more like something he’d smell walking into a bakery. He caught up to the source of the chaos, nudged Bakugou’s shoulder with his own, and asked, “What’s your plan?”

Bakugou grinned. This smile wasn’t small or soft or sweet. No, this smile was downright predatory, like a shark honing in on the scent of blood (which was saying something, since Kirishima’s teeth had been compared to a literal shark’s). Kirishima didn’t believe that he could match Bakugou’s ferocity. Nonetheless, Bakugou’s smile was indeed contagious as he turned this grin toward Kirishima and growled, “Listen closely.”

“Try anything funny,” Bakugou warned, “and I’ll blow your ass up so bad that they’ll be piecing you back together for weeks.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound very heroic!” Kirishima said with a smile. He couldn’t match Bakugou’s savage grin as his friend pinned down the warp gate – or rather, Kurogiri, a name that the leader Shigaraki had let slip. However, Kirishima could certainly smile just as All Might smiled. He could trick the fear inside him as he faced the three villains – Shigaraki, Kurogiri, and Nomu. At the very least, Kirishima knew he wasn’t alone. Bakugou wasn’t the only one who wanted to win. Todoroki, Midoriya, and even All Might had arrived at the scene. Five heroes against three villains. Kirishima liked those odds.

That it, until Nomu got back up. Until the creature’s arm and leg regenerated, white bone into red muscle into black skin. Kirishima had never seen a creature like Nomu. It didn’t belong in this world, a monster better suited to a video game than to real life. Its body was even more muscular than All Might’s, but its head wasn’t human at all. More like a bird. Its open beak held rows of jagged white teeth. Its brain had grown so out of proportion that its skull had cracked wide open, revealing a brain as big as a watermelon. Its eyes had sunk so far into its brain that Kirishima couldn’t see the sockets. He could only see the whites – or rather, yellows – of its eyes. He could also see the pupils, as small as the laser sights leading bullets into targets, pinning Kirishima and the other heroes into place.

Only Shigaraki made any movements at all, lifting his hands to scratch at his own neck. He scratched over and over, like a rat trying to claw its way out of a trap.

As if finding this escape route, Shigaraki stopped. He lowered his hands and mumbled, “First, we need to get our gate back.” He pointed at the heroes with one bony finger. “Go, Nomu.” 

Nomu’s eyes shifted away from Kirishima and onto Bakugou. Kirishima moved before he could think, hardening his skin as he braced for impact. Kirishima pushed Bakugou off of Kurogiri, then turned to face the villains. Instead of Nomu, he found All Might standing before them, holding Nomu back with his bare fists.

“Run…away…” All Might said through clenched teeth.

“I won’t let you escape,” Kurogiri growled as a cold black fog surrounded heroes and villains alike. Kirishima stepped toward All Might, but the fog was thick, as if walking through water rather than air. He took another step, trying to reach the number one hero, but each step felt impossibly heavy – as if a whole ocean weighed down on his shoulders. He heard the thump of fist against flesh, the crack of bone, the sound of footsteps as Midoriya screamed, “Kacchan! ” But Kirishima couldn’t see a thing. He could only see the thickening fog, a fog so dark that he wouldn’t know Bakugou was standing beside him if it weren’t for Bakugou’s hand inside his.

Kirishima didn’t know why Bakugou reached out. He didn’t expect Bakugou’s hand to shake as badly as his own. Kirishima closed his eyes and tightened his grip. He bowed his head, fighting back tears, and whispered so low that only he could hear.

“I’m sorry, All Might.”

Chapter Text

When Kirishima opened his eyes, he realized that he’d been warped. Again. Except this time, he wasn’t dropped onto cold grey concrete. Rather, he found dirt and grass and a warm gold fire. Something about the fire seemed strangely alive. The crackling of the flame reminded Kirishima of a growling hunger, as if the fire itself wanted to devour something. Kirishima noticed that there weren’t any twigs in the fire – just bones. Without any kindling, how could the fire stay alight? Was a villain’s quirk sustaining the flame?

Kirishima shook his head. He had to focus. 

He stood up, dusted himself off, and looked around. Crumbling pillars circled the bonfire, leaning toward its light like flowers leaning toward the sun. An enormous black bird had perched on one pillar, looking down at something – or rather, someone. Kirishima followed the bird’s gaze to find Bakugou on the other side of the bonfire. Kirishima rushed over, knelt down, and pressed two fingers to Bakugou’s wrist. He let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d held in, relieved to find a pulse beneath his fingertips. Bakugou was alive. Just knocked out.

But not for long. Bakugou jolted awake, slamming his hands onto Kirishima’s chest. “Die!”

Kirishima hardened his chest just in time to nullify the explosion. “Bakugou! It’s me!”

Bakugou glared at his trembling hands. “Did I…hurt you?”

“No way, man,” Kirishima assured, wrapping Bakugou in a manly hug. “But you did scare me! I thought you were a goner!”

“Tch,” Bakugou dismissed. “It takes more than a small fry villain to take me down.”

“Of course!” Kirishima agreed, even though Nomu wasn’t a small fry by any stretch of the imagination. Still, he wasn’t about to argue with Bakugou’s assessment of villains. He was just happy that Bakugou was alive, and even happier that his friend was so ridiculously warm. Was Bakugou always this sweaty because of his quirk? Or was it a result of adrenaline from fighting villain after villain?

“Uh…” Bakugou muttered, patting Kirishima on the back. “You can let go now.”

“Ah, sorry!” Kirishima replied, releasing his friend.

“Where the hell did that bastard warp us?” Bakugou asked, looking upward.

Kirishima followed his gaze to the heavy grey sky. Although USJ had the technology to produce weather patterns, they usually used this weather to practice emergency rescues. Heroes stood their ground against thunderstorms and blizzards. Nothing about these clouds could put heroes to the test. They were just…there. Just like the bonfire was there, the crackling filling the silence that stretched between Kirishima and Bakugou.

“Well, what do we have here?” someone said. “You must be a new arrival.”

Kirishima turned to face the stranger. The knight wore a set of silver chain armor – at least, Kirishima assumed that it had been silver. Now, it was more of a dull grey color, the same grey as the boulder that the knight sat on. Just as moss had spread green across the grey stone, rust had spread across the man’s hunched shoulders. Still, the man smiled, as if unbothered by the decay. He stared not at the heroes, but at the bonfire. He didn’t look intrigued or amazed, as Kirishima had felt. Rather, he looked tired, if the bags under his eyes were anything to go by.

“Since you’re here,” the knight continued, “let me help you out. There are actually two bells of awakening. Ring them both, and something happens! Brilliant, right? Not much to go on, but I have a feeling that won’t stop you. So, off you go. It is why you came, isn’t it? – to this accursed land of the undead? Ha ha ha.”

“Blah blah blah,” Bakugou mocked, his palm filling with sparks. “You won’t fool me, you cheeky bastard. Where’s the warp gate?!”

“Don’t try anything clever,” the knight warned, his smile widening into a smirk. “You might regret it.”

Kirishima rested his hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, leaned in, and whispered, “Take it easy, man. He’s not…well, he’s not all the way there, y’know? If we play along, maybe we’ll get more information.”

Bakugou’s shoulder tensed under Kirishima’s grip, but his hand stopped sparking.

“Can’t hurt to try, right?” Kirishima continued. “It’s our first lead!”

Bakugou looked at Kirishima, if only for a moment, before turning back to the knight and growling, “What the everliving fuck are the bells of awakening?”

“What? You want to hear more?” the knight asked. “Oh, that’s all we need. Another inquisitive soul…well, listen carefully then. One of the bells is up above in the undead church, but the lift is broken. You’ll have to climb the stairs up the ruins and access the Undead Burg through the waterway. The other bell is back down below the Undead Burg, within the plague infested Blighttown. But I’d die again before I step foot in that cesspool!”

“Again?” Kirishima questioned. “Do you have a decomposition quirk? What do you mean by undead? What happens when you ring the bells?”

“Bloody hell, what is it now?” the knight scoffed. “You ask too many questions.”

“Let’s go, Kirishima,” Bakugou said, turning his back to the bonfire. “I’m done playing around.”

Kirishima tagged along, offering a small smile. “Where to next, Blasty?”

“The bell tower,” Bakugou decided. “I bet we’ll get a good view of this shithole from up high. Maybe then we can figure out where the fuck we are.”

“Good idea!” Kirishima agreed. “Do you think our friends got warped here too?”

“If by friends you mean Deku and IcyHot, I sure as fuck hope not,” Bakugou replied. “If they got warped in, so did bird brain…and face palm…and…All Might.” Bakugou shook his head, took a breath, and continued, “Anyway, who the hell cares if broccoli hair and candy cane got warped. We don’t need those extras.”

“Come on, Bakubro! They’re your friends!” When Bakugou didn’t reply, Kirishima continued, “Well, I’m your friend.”

“A shitty friend!” Bakugou barked, finally turning to face Kirishima. “It’s your fault we’re in this mess! If you hadn’t pushed me off that warp gate, we would’ve been fine!”

“You would’ve been dead!” Kirishima shouted, his smile hardening into a scowl. “If you had died, I…I…”

Bakugou tilted his head to the side. “Why are you crying?”

Kirishima turned away. “I’m not crying.”

Bakugou ran one thumb under Kirishima’s eye. “Then what are these?”

“Manly tears?” Kirishima asked, caught off guard by the warmth of Bakugou’s thumb against his skin.

“Knock it off,” Bakugou huffed. “I’m alive, thanks to you.”

Kirishima sniffled. “All Might did most of the work.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Bakugou scolded. He crossed his arms over his chest, hung his head low, and twisted his lips into a pout – as if the words tasted sour before he spat them out. “I’m…sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Kirishima decided. Hoping to ease the tension between them, he wrapped an arm around Bakugou’s shoulder. With his other arm, he pointed at the path in the distance – a series of steps that led up the cliff and into the waterway. “Yikes, that’s a lot of stairs. I guess we really can’t skip leg day. Are you ready to feel the burn, bro?”

Bakugou huffed, a sound that Kirishima had learned to recognize as a laugh. “Of course I’m fucking ready.” He grabbed Kirishima’s wrist, as if to remove Kirishima’s arm from his shoulders. Except Bakugou didn’t let go. He held onto Kirishima’s wrist with an iron grip, yanking him forward.

As they walked, Kirishima glanced at Bakugou’s hand around his wrist. Although he didn’t normally like being manhandled, he’d accept such behavior from someone as manly as Bakugou. He remembered how Bakugou had held his hand as the fog had closed in. If Bakugou hadn’t reached out, would they have been warped to the same place? Kirishima didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if he’d woken up alone by the bonfire. He didn’t want to think about what had happened to Midoriya or Todoroki or All Might. He just wanted to focus on the task at hand, to make his willpower as unbreakable as his own quirk.

And so he focused on each step up the stairs. He didn’t look past the edge of the cliff. Instead, he kept his eyes on the path ahead. On the grass sprouting green through the cracks in the stone steps. On Bakugou’s boots, colored orange and black like ember and ash. On the soldiers that guarded the entrance to the waterway – two soldiers at the base of the stairs, at least two soldiers on top.

“Oi, Bakugou,” Kirishima addressed. “What’s the plan?”

Bakugou finally released Kirishima’s wrist. “I’ll take top. You’ll take bottom. Got it?”

Kirishima blushed, imagining a very different scenario. Before Bakugou could catch on, some sort of bomb fell from the sky. Kirishima jumped in front of Bakugou, using his hardened arms to shield them both from the blast.

It turned out to be a firebomb, one that lit Bakugou’s grin in a dangerous gold. “Die!”

While Bakugou raced up the cliff, heading for the source of the firebomb, Kirishima fought the two soldiers on the ground below. One soldier charged forward with a spear, but something about his gait was off, as if he was limping. Kirishima snapped the spear in half with one swift jab. The shield appeared to be constructed of the same wood, making the same satisfying crack when Kirishima took another swing. Without shield or spear, the soldier cowered behind another soldier, who both stood dangerously close to the edge of a cliff. One wrong move and Kirishima could slip, spiraling into the valley below. Kirishima didn’t want to push the soldiers off the cliff, knowing that they wouldn’t survive the fall, but he also couldn’t turn his back to the enemy. Before Kirishima could decide on his next move, another firebomb fell, knocking the soldiers back and sending them over the edge. By the time the smoke cleared, the only evidence of their battle was the broken spear and busted shield.

By the time Kirishima reached Bakugou, four soldiers had been taken down. Bakugou smiled at Kirishima – his chin tilted upward, his hands on his hips. “What took you so long?”

Kirishima grinned. “You’re amazing, Bakugou!”

Before Bakugou turned away, Kirishima swore he saw a blush on his bro’s face. Before Kirishima could inquire, Bakugou grabbed a sword off the ground and said, “This one’s yours.”

Kirishima flexed his hardened muscles, hoping to further fluster his friend. “Why would we need their swords? We have our quirks!”

Bakugou handed over the sword’s hilt, apparently unaffected by Kirishima’s pose. “Don’t you pay any damn attention to my tutoring? We shouldn’t rely only on our quirks.”

Kirishima vaguely remembered that question from last week’s test. But if he was being honest with himself, he’d spent way more time studying the tutor than the subject material. Kirishima grabbed the sword’s hilt, his fingers brushing against Bakugou’s before pulling away. He smiled and said, “You’re amazing and smart! I just don’t like stealing, even if we’re stealing from villains.”

“I need you to stay alive,” Bakugou dismissed, snatching an ax off the ground.

“Aww, you do care!” Kirishima cooed.

“Obviously,” Bakugou said with a roll of his eyes. He stomped up the stairs, resting the handle of the ax against his shoulder.

Kirishima followed his lead, careful not to slip off the narrow path. At long last, they reached the arch that led into the waterway. However, it didn’t smell like a waterway – it smelled more like a sewer, the stench so strong that Kirishima gagged before he’d even stepped inside. Soon after Bakugou had stepped inside, Kirishima heard an “Eek!”

“Who’s there?!” Kirishima demanded, racing inside.

“Rat…” Bakugou explained, the sparks in his palms illuminating the fear in his eyes.

Sure enough, an enormous rat feasted on something at one end of the tunnel, its back turned to the heroes.

“Did the rat make that sound?” Kirishima asked.

“Yeah,” Bakugou lied, marching the opposite direction of the rodent. “Just ignore it.”

Kirishima grinned. Although he could tease Bakugou for having such an unmanly scream, he also recognized that he’d stepped into a tunnel. One blast from Bakusplode could send the whole structure crumbling down. And so Kirishima bit his lip in an attempt to suppress his laughter. He also didn’t want to breathe in the waterway’s godawful stench. The funk of rat droppings was bad enough in his nose. He didn’t want to taste it on his tongue as well. And so he kept his mouth shut as he followed Bakugou through the tunnel, the sparks from Bakugou’s palms providing just enough light to see by.

Chapter Text

The waterway ended up leading into a town. At least, it used to be a town. Kirishima imagined that it had once been bustling with life. Now, doors had rusted off their hinges. Spiders had made webs in shattered windows. The only residents were as brainless as the soldiers that they’d fought by the waterway. Brainless and bloodthirsty, judging by how they charged at Bakugou and Kirishima. Not that these enemies stood a chance against the two heroes. Their battered weapons and tattered garments were no match for Kirishima’s new sword, rusted as it may be. Some villains wore only a flimsy patch of loincloth, their flesh a shimmering pink as if their skin had rotted away.

When Bakugou slammed his ax into an enemy’s back, the blade tore clean through, as if cutting through butter rather than bone. While Bakugou raised his ax, three enemies snuck up from behind. Kirishima rushed forward, determined to save his friend. But before Kirishima could reach him, Bakugou sent an explosion behind him, trapping the enemies in a blazing alleyway. The breeze, once cool and refreshing, now carried the stench of burning flesh.

Kirishima hardened his stomach, hoping to keep himself from vomiting. He couldn’t afford to lose his lunch – not when he didn’t know the next time he’d eat, and definitely not when Bakugou would see. He leaned against a nearby house, breathing in, then out. In, then out.

“Hey,” Bakugou said, resting his hand on Kirishima’s shoulder.

Kirishima tried to speak, but he could barely breathe.

“You’re hyperventilating,” Bakugou said. “Try to match my breaths.”

Kirishima listened to his friend’s breathing. The sound was rhythmic and calm, like the sound of waves against an ocean shore. He tried to smell the ocean breeze, but it was no use – he could only smell burning flesh.

“Breathe,” Bakugou reminded, running his hand through Kirishima’s hair.

“You’ll ruin the gel,” Kirishima whined.

“So? It looks less shitty that way.” Bakugou paused, burying his hand in the hair by Kirishima’s neck. “Do you really want me to stop?”

“No,” Kirishima admitted. “This…it’s nice.”

“Good,” Bakugou replied, moving his fingers once again. It wasn’t the first time that Bakugou had calmed Kirishima down from a panic attack. However, it was the only time he’d run his fingers through Kirishima’s hair. Kirishima didn’t want Bakugou to stop. He wanted Bakugou’s fingertips to go past his neck and down his back, following the ridges and valleys of his spine. But this wasn’t the time for fantasies. They had to keep moving, before any more of those zombies showed up.

Kirishima looked up to meet Bakugou’s gaze. “I’m ready now.”

Bakugou’s scowl softened into a smile. “Good.”

Kirishima stepped forward, taking the lead. As they walked through the town, something raced toward them in a flash of red. Kirishima hardened his skin, hoping to shield Bakugou. The beast landed, causing the ground to tremble, before lifting off into the sky. Only once she’d taken flight did Kirishima recognize the beast as a dragon – the kind he’d read about in fantasy stories. Certainly not something he’d find hanging around U.A.

“Oh no…” Kirishima realized.

“What?!” Bakugou spat.

“We weren’t warped to a different town…we were warped to a different realm.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You sound like Deku.”

“I’m serious!” Kirishima insisted. “How else do you explain the zombies we’ve been fighting? And the literal freaking dragon that nearly crushed us?”

“Unregistered quirks,” Bakugou stated, shouldering past Kirishima.

“I don’t know, man,” Kirishima replied, catching up so they walked side by side. “This whole place just feels…different, somehow.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou yelled. “How am I supposed to listen for villains when you’re blabbing weird ass conspiracy theories?”

Kirishima kept his mouth shut. He really wanted to believe Bakugou. But there was something about the bonfire that lingered in his memory. Without the fire, he felt strangely…cold. Even after they’d defeated more zombies, a black armored knight, and a flaming barrel rolling down a stairway, Kirishima kept rubbing his hands together. As they walked onto a bridge, the heroes stepped into sunlight. When Kirishima peered over the edge of the bridge, he could see the sunlight seeping through holes in the clouds, speckling the world around him. With only a low wall to serve as a railing, he could see the town they’d passed through, an enormous forest, and a faraway castle. Still, the sun held no warmth on Kirishima’s skin.

Kirishima didn’t have time to dwell on it. As soon as they reached the center of the bridge, an enormous beast leaped from the bridge’s opposite tower. The creature landed with such force that the whole bridge trembled. Just as Nomu had the body of a man but the head of a bird, this beast also combined one form with another. Although the creature walked on two legs like a human and gripped its weapon like a human, its hands and feet had morphed into scaly grey claws. The rest of its body was covered in brown fur, save for its head. No, not a head – it had the skull of a ram, one that charged toward the heroes as if to knock them off the bridge.

Kirishima activated his quirk, channeling his unbreakable form. When the beast swung its enormous ax, Kirishima barely dodged. Bakugou blasted himself above the beast, landed on its shoulders, and slammed the ax into its back. The beast howled, thrashing around like a bull in a ring. Bakugou grabbed onto its fur and sent explosions through both palms, filling the air with the stench of burnt hair. This only made the beast’s movements more erratic, the demon thrashing so wildly that Bakugou was ripped from the beast with its fur in his fists.

With Bakugou out of range, Kirishima had the perfect opportunity to charge, sending his sword into the beast’s chest and shoving the demon over the edge. The beast spiraled into the woods below, landing with a crash that was as loud as one of Bakugou’s blasts.

“Ha ha!” Kirishima taunted over the bridge, his form returning to normal as he deactivated his quirk. “You couldn’t beat the best of the best! Isn’t that right, Bakugou?”

In response, Kirishima could only hear the howling wind.

“Bakugou?”

Kirishima turned around. Bakugou was slumped against the stone wall of the bridge, one hand pressed against his side.

Kirishima raced toward his friend. “Bakugou! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Bakugou replied, his voice hoarse. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

Kirishima held out his hand. “Let me help you up.”

Bakugou glared at the outstretched hand, his jaw clenched.

Kirishima sat beside his friend. “Is it alright if I sit here?”

“You’re already sitting here,” Bakugou scoffed. “Not much I can say now.”

“Heh, I guess you’re right,” Kirishima replied, wrapping his arm around Bakugou’s shoulder. “That was pretty awesome how you attacked from above. You’ve got really great strategy, you know that? Especially when you…”

“Shut up,” Bakugou interrupted.

“No, I mean it!”

“Shut. Up,” Bakugou repeated. “I hear something.”

And then, Kirishima saw it racing toward them – an arrow, one that he barely deflected with his hardened arm.

“Those bastards,” Bakugou hissed through clenched teeth, getting back onto his feet.

Before Kirishima could stop him, Bakugou blasted his way to the tower at the end of the bridge. With a single explosion, two soldiers flew off the tower, joining the beast in the woods below. Bakugou took the ladder down, each step ringing hard against the metal. If there was anyone in the world who could descend a ladder aggressively, it was Katsuki Bakugou.

“What the hell are you smiling about?” Bakugou asked, holding out his hand. “We lost our only weapons.”

“Oh, nothing,” Kirishima replied, lifted back onto his feet.

“Whatever,” Bakugou huffed. “Let’s get going.”

Kirishima followed Bakugou to the other side of the bridge. For a moment, nothing was said. All Kirishima could hear was their steps against the stone. But then, Bakugou cleared his throat and said, “What the hell was that form you used?”

“Oh, that?” Kirishima asked, his face flushed. “I haven’t gotten it down quite yet, but the goal is to make my whole body hard so nothing can get past me!”

“So you wanna make yourself unbreakable?”

“Yeah! Unbreakable!”

“That’s pretty cool.” And then, as if catching himself, Bakugou added, “but don’t let it get to your head! You almost fell off the damn bridge!”

“Blasty, are you trying to compliment me?” Kirishima cooed. “That’s so sweet!”

“I’m gonna vomit.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that.”

“I mean it,” Bakugou insisted, coming to a stop once they’d reached the end of the bridge. Only then did Kirishima notice that Bakugou had rested one hand on his stomach. Bakugou slouched to the ground, his back pressed against the tower that the beast had jumped down from. “I feel really sick.”

“Oh!” Kirishima replied as he sat beside Bakugou. He looked up, watching the clouds as he asked, “How about we chill for a minute? I’d be nauseous too if I rode a bull with my bare hands.”

“Tch,” Bakugou replied. “You’re the one who pissed it off.”

“How?” Kirishima asked. “You’re the one who attacked it!”

“Your hair,” Bakugou deadpanned. “Bulls hate the color red.”

Kirishima met Bakugou’s gaze to find a small smirk on his friend’s face. Kirishima grinned as he replied, “Bro…did you just tell a joke?”

And just like that, Bakugou’s smile fell into a scowl. “Stop calling me bro. It’s weird.”

“Why’s it weird?”

“Cuz I don’t…” Bakugou pinched his forehead with two fingers, as if anticipating an incoming headache. As quickly as it had appeared, the tension disappeared from his expression – his face blank as he looked up, took a breath, and said, “Forget it. Just go back to watching the clouds.”

“Okaaaaay,” Kirishima shrugged, returning his attention to the sky above. As he watched the sun peek in and out of the clouds, Bakugou’s shoulder pressed against his own. Except while the sunlight disappeared and reappeared, the warmth against Kirishima’s shoulder stayed. Kirishima allowed himself a small smile, letting his friend’s breathing calm him down once again.

Chapter Text

Although Kirishima and Bakugou stood a few feet behind the stranger, the man hadn’t turned around to meet the gaze of the heroes. Rather, he looked upward, as if studying the sun that Kirishima had studied only minutes ago. Although Bakugou insisted that he was feeling well enough to walk, Kirishima couldn’t tell if Bakugou’s scowl was one of lingering nausea or one of growing confusion. Kirishima, meanwhile, was fascinated by the stranger. His attire was…unusual, to say the least. His shoulders appeared to be padded by green grass. Attached to his helm was a single red feather, which fluttered in the cool breeze. Although a sword hung at the man’s hip, his bare fists hung loosely at his sides, as if the man felt no danger in the presence of the sunlight. Since Kirishima was starting to feel creepy watching the man from behind, he sported a grin and took a step into the knight’s outstretched shadow. 

“Hello! My name’s Kirishima, and this is Bakugou.”

The stranger turned his head over his shoulder. “Ah, hello! You don’t look hollow. Far from it. I am Solaire of Astora, an adherent of the Lord of Sunlight.” He raised his arms toward the sky, his palms facing outward. “Now that I am undead, I have come to this great land, the birthplace of Lord Gwyn, to seek my very own sun!” 

“That’s…nice,” Kirishima replied, taking note of the sun that had been woven into the knight’s chest piece. “We’re just trying to get back home. Have you seen any other heroes?”

“Heroes?” Solaire inquired, scratching at his helmet as if it were his head. “Everyone wants to be a hero around here. Ha ha ha!”

“Listen up,” Bakugou joined in. “We’re looking for a tall fucker with candy cane hair and a short fucker with broccoli hair. Have you seen ’em?”

“Candy cane?” Solaire inquired. “Is that a new miracle?”

“Never mind him,” Kirishima dismissed. “The tall guy has red and white hair. He’s on the quiet side. The short guy has green hair. He kinda mumbles a lot.”

“Ah, that rings a bell!” Solaire said, laughing to himself as if he’d told an excellent joke. “Yes, I met a pair who fit that description. They came by a few minutes ago…or was it a few hours? Time is convoluted here, you see…”

“Great!” Kirishima replied, wondering if the knight had been in the sun for a tad too long. “Did you see anything else out of the ordinary?”

“Only you two,” Solaire said with a chuckle.

“I’ll kill you,” Bakugou spat.

“If you do that,” Solaire challenged, “I’ll get right back up…like the sun rising at dawn every morning!”

“How?” Kirishima questioned. “Are you immortal or something?”

“Undead,” Solaire corrected. “As are you.”

“Shitty hair’s not undead!” Bakugou shouted, stepping between Kirishima and Solaire.

“Ah, but you are,” Solaire insisted, ignoring Bakugou in favor of Kirishima. “Your skin is starting to wrinkle. Your eyes are sinking in. And I suppose you’re feeling cold right now?”

Kirishima nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Not to worry!” Solaire said, reaching right over Bakugou to pat Kirishima on the shoulder. “All you need is a bonfire! That’ll warm you right up.”

Bakugou swatted Solaire’s hand away. Although his teeth were clenched into a feral scowl, his voice was strangely calm when he asked, “Where can we find one?”

“Across the bridge,” Solaire replied. “Is Bakugou your knight, sir Kirishima? He seems quite…protective over you, to say the least.”

Bakugou turned away, but not quickly enough for Kirishima to miss the color in his face. “I’m not his knight! I’m his friend!”

Kirishima’s jaw dropped, taken aback by Bakugou’s use of the word friend without the word shitty.

“Let’s go, shitty hair!”

Ah, there it was. Kirishima turned back to Solaire and said, “Sorry, he’s just like that. Are you coming too?”

“I will stay behind,” Solaire replied. “To gaze at the sun. The sun is a wondrous body, like a magnificent father! If only I could be so grossly incandescent.”

“Suit yourself,” Kirishima shrugged, jogging to catch up with Bakugou. Bakugou stood at the edge of a bridge that led into a castle, his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping against the stone. Kirishima scanned the bridge, trying to figure out what Bakugou was staring at, when he saw it: scorch marks all along the bridge. Soldiers burned to a crisp. Inside the castle gate, a bonfire – its light as small as a firefly from the opposite end of the bridge.

“The dragon,” Kirishima realized.

“Yep,” Bakugou confirmed. “Let’s get the hell outta here before that fucker comes back.”

“A race then?” Kirishima smirked. “You’re on.”

“It’s not a game, Kirishima.”

“Too late!” Kirishima said, giving himself a running start. “I’m gonna win!”

Bakugou blasted from behind him, each blast louder – no, closer than the last. He passed Kirishima, leaving him in the dust of his explosions, when Kirishima heard another explosion from behind him. No, not an explosion – a roar. A blaze at his back. Kirishima hardened his skin once again. Even with his eyes closed, fire blinded his vision. Once the heat subsided, Kirishima unhardened his skin and hit the ground running, his eyes stinging from the smoke. He couldn’t see. He could only run.

“Stop!”

Kirishima did as told, his eyes still closed. “Bakugou?”

Bakugou’s arms wrapped around Kirishima, pulling him in for a hug. “I thought you were a goner.”

Kirishima rested his hands on Bakugou’s shoulders. “I’m fine, Bakugou. I’m here.”

Where exactly was here? Kirishima opened his eyes to find that he’d reached the entrance of the castle. Behind him, the dragon lifted off, the thump of her wings sending gusts of wind that stung his burnt back. In front of him, a bonfire illuminated a statue of a mother and infant, casting shadows over the folds of her dress. But Kirishima didn’t pay the statue any mind. Instead, he focused on the man who had buried his face into his chest. If the castle wasn’t so quiet, Kirishima wouldn’t have even noticed his friend’s muffled sobs. Kirishima didn’t say a word, letting his actions speak for him. He ran his thumbs in slow circles around Bakugou’s trembling shoulders.

After some time, Bakugou’s shoulders stopped shaking. His breaths evened out. He looked up to face Kirishima and said, “You can harden your hair?”

Kirishima wasn’t expecting that. He smiled and said, “Well, yeah! I’m unbreakable!”

Bakugou shook his head. “You still got burned.”

Kirishima chuckled. “Well, almost unbreakable…maybe we should rest by the bonfire?”

“Okay,” Bakugou said, pulling away.

As soon as Kirishima sat by the bonfire, something strange happened. The skin on his back stopped hurting. His whole body felt lighter. He no longer felt cold.

“Hey, Bakugou! The fire’s working!”

“The fuck?” Bakugou asked from behind him. “Shit, you’re right. The burn, it’s…gone. Do you think these fires are connected to someone’s quirk? Like a healing quirk?”

“I have no clue,” Kirishima admitted, facing the fire. “But I think that I really am…undead. Whatever that means.”

Bakugou sat beside him. “Your ugly wrinkles are gone too.”

“Thanks, man,” Kirishima deadpanned. “Glad to know I’m ugly.”

“You were ugly,” Bakugou replied. “Now, you’re…”

Kirishima turned to face Bakugou. “Now I’m what?”

When Bakugou met his gaze, Kirishima held his breath. In the firelight, Bakugou looked absolutely stunning. Although the fire from Bakugou’s explosions normally made him look fierce, aggressive, and truth be told, terrifying, this fire made all his features look softer. His red eyes looked less like a wildfire and more like magma – a slower kind of burn. His crooked grin had softened into a small smile.

Kirishima couldn’t help but stare at that smile, couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel under his own. He leaned in, closing the space between them.

“Kacchan?”

Bakugou’s smile hardened into a scowl. His eyes narrowed into thin red slits. Through clenched teeth, he spat, “Deku…”

Kirishima turned around to see Midoriya and Todoroki on the other side of a closed gate.

“Were we interrupting something?” Todoroki questioned.

“No, no!” Kirishima replied, offering a warm smile even under Todoroki’s icy gaze. “We were just talking!”

“Then can you let us in?” Todoroki asked, pointing to a lever on Kirishima’s side of the gate.

“Oh, uh, sure!” Kirishima replied, stumbling his way over to the gate. With one pull of the lever, the gate opened. Judging by Bakugou’s clenched fists, Kirishima wished he’d kept the gate shut.

“Hey, guys!” Kirishima greeted. “I’m glad to see you’re safe!”

“Same to you!” Midoriya replied. “Kacchan, why is your face so red? Are you sick?”

“Fuck off, Deku!”

“Watch it,” Todoroki warned.

“Anywayyyy,” Kirishima said. “Have you guys made it to the bell tower yet? We were hoping to get a better view of this place.”

“That’s where we’re heading! We met this knight at the Undead Asylum who told us about the bells.” Midoriya deepened his voice and continued, “Thou who art undead art chosen. In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of ancient lords. When thou ringeth the bell of awakening, the fate of the undead thou shalt know…”

Undead? That’s the same word Knight Solaire had used. Before Kirishima could question Midoriya about this Undead Asylum, Bakugou took a step forward and said, “You shoulda stayed in the loony bin. And you shouldn’t be getting involved in their business.”

“It’s a hero’s job to get involved,” Midoriya challenged, his head hung low while Bakugou towered over him. “Especially if it’s not our business.”

“You’ve got no business being a hero,” Bakugou growled. “You’re quirkless.”

Kirishima really wished he’d kept the gate shut. Midoriya looked ready to cry. Bakugou looked ready to explode. And Todoroki looked…well, Kirishima had trouble reading Todoroki’s blank expression. And so Kirishima just took a breath, held his chin high, and said, “Hey guys, I know we’re stressed out, but we’ve gotta focus on finding the bell tower. And our best bet is sticking together.”

“No fucking way,” Bakugou huffed.

“Just Kirishima then?” Todoroki asked. “Fine by me.”

“Back off,” Bakugou growled. “He’s mine.”

It was the kind of comment that Kirishima had only imagined in his wildest dreams. The kind that led to him kissing the living daylights out of Bakugou. But if Kirishima made a move in front of Deku, of all people, he knew it couldn’t go as smoothly as he’d imagined. Besides, he had more on his mind than his feelings for Bakugou. Like how they’d get back home. And how he’d recover from this strange undead quirk.

And so Kirishima rested his hand on Bakugou’s shoulder and said, “It would be the manly thing to help them out. Don’t you think?”

“Fine,” Bakugou surrendered, marching ahead of the group.

Midoriya followed in Bakugou’s shadow, muttering something under his breath.

Kirishima and Todoroki walked behind them. Kirishima didn’t know much about Todoroki, other than the fact that he had a flashy quirk. He was the son of the number two hero, Endeavor, but he’d never displayed any fire quirk. Only his ice, which was a big enough threat on its own. Like Bakugou, Todoroki gave the world a cold shoulder, but Kirishima couldn’t help but wonder if Todoroki was just shy.

Kirishima offered a smile. “I’m pumped to fight some villains with you!”

Todoroki raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to befriend me?”

“Well, yeah!” Kirishima confessed. “I wanna be friends with everybody!”

“Even Bakugou?” Todoroki scoffed. “How can you stand him?”

“Well, he’s super strong and confident and manly!” Kirishima grinned. “I like him!”

“Clearly,” Todoroki replied with a small smile.

Kirishima bit his lip and looked down at his feet. After a few steps, he noticed the stone change to ice. He looked back up to find soldier after soldier frozen in place – palms frozen to the hilts of swords, fingers frozen onto bow strings. A wild hog had been imprisoned in an ice cube, its snout sticking out of the ice to give it enough room to squeal. At the sight of the pig, Kirishima’s stomach growled. He hadn’t had anything to eat since he’d arrived in this strange land. But it wasn’t time for lunch. It was time to fight some villains! At least, Kirishima hoped to fight some villains. Todoroki had frozen all the enemies so far, even a giant knight inside an enormous church. As the group made their way through the church’s second floor, they found a whole horde of zombies frozen to the wall.

“Wow, dude!” Kirishima said with a smile. “You made short work of these guys!”

“It was nothing,” Todoroki shrugged.

Kirishima noticed Bakugou glaring at him over his shoulder. Was he…jealous? No, that couldn’t be it.

But just in case it was, Kirishima continued, “I’m serious, bro! Your quirk is really strong!”

Todoroki looked forward, his jaw clenched in concentration. And then, his mouth fell open into an o, as if understanding the intent behind Kirishima’s sudden praise. He turned back to Kirishima and announced, “I’m glad someone finally recognizes my quirk as the strongest of the class.”

“Half-and-half bastard!” Bakugou yelled, redirecting his rage from Midoriya to Todoroki. “We all know that Kirishima’s quirk is the strongest!”

Kirishima tripped on the icy path, caught off balance by Bakugou’s reaction. He would’ve broken his bone, if he hadn’t hardened his shoulder just in time.

“See what I mean?” Bakugou continued, marching toward them. “You can’t compete with a quirk like that!”

“Yes, I see,” Todoroki deadpanned before using his ice quirk to catch up with Midoriya.

Kirishima got back onto his feet. “Do you really think my quirk is the strongest?”

“Of fucking course,” Bakugou affirmed, his scowl lifting into a smirk. “Unless you’re talking about my quirk.”

“Hey, what’s behind this door?” Midoriya muttered, seemingly pulled out of his pensive mood by his curiosity. “Could it be the next villain? Or perhaps the way back home? Or maybe All Might himself is behind the door, causing it to emit a strangely bright glow?”

“Out of the way!” Bakugou announced before kicking the door down.

“Was that really necessary?” Todoroki asked.

Behind the door, the heroes found a stairway that led to a cell. Behind the rusted grey bars, a golden armored knight lifted his helm. “Oh? Still human, are you? Then I am in luck. Could you help me?”

“What happened to you?” Midoriya asked.

“As you can see, I am stuck without recourse. I entreat you, have pity on this powerless knight. Surely you can imagine the depth of such dejection. Please…I have duties to fulfill, and I will reward you handsomely.”

“Fuck this,” Bakugou scoffed, turning down the stairs. “This guy’s sketchy as hell.”

“Why, you!” the man begged. “Do not run away! Hear me out.”

Bakugou paused on the stairway. Kirishima met him on the stairs and said, “I trust your judgement, man.”

“He needs help!” Midoriya yelled, his shadow stretching down the stairs and reaching their feet. “What kind of hero doesn’t help someone in need?”

“How do you plan on getting him out?” Bakugou mocked. “Should I explode him out? Or should half-and-half freeze him out?”

Midoriya rested his chin in his palms and started muttering. Kirishima had learned to recognize the action as Midoriya’s way of coming up with a plan. However, he didn’t expect Midoriya to look right at him and say, “Kirishima! It has to be you!”

“Me?!” Kirishima squeaked.

“Yes, you. If you harden just your arms, then you can break the lock.”

Kirishima clenched his hands into fists. He looked between Midoriya and Bakugou. He really didn’t want to disappoint either of them.

“I beg of you,” the man said behind the bars. “Help me.”

And that’s all it took to put Kirishima over the edge. He walked back up the stairs, hardened his arms, and bashed the lock until it finally broke. He opened the cell door, and the man stepped out. Kirishima eyed the man’s weapons – two curved swords hanging from his hip.

“Thank you,” the man said. “Yes, sincerely. I am Knight Lautrec of Carim. I truly appreciate this, and I guarantee a reward. Only…later.”

“Later?” Bakugou growled.

“Yes, very sorry. Your reward will have to wait. I have just been freed. Allow me some time. I am free. Now…I can get back to work…”

“Not yet,” Bakugou said, stomping up the stairs. “The least you can do is help us find the stupid bell tower. Unless those swords of yours are all for show.”

“Oh, these?” Lautrec snickered, pulling the blades from their sheaths. “I’ll show you just how bloody they can get.”

“Good,” Bakugou huffed, shouldering past Kirishima. “Let’s go.”

“Kacchan, wait!” Deku said, chasing after Bakugou.

“Midoriya!” Todoroki said, chasing after Deku.

And with that, Kirishima was left alone with Knight Lautrec. Kirishima took the lead down the steps. Lautrec trailed behind him, his armor clanking against the stone.

“So…” Kirishima said once they’d exited the room, stepping over the door that Bakugou had kicked down. “You said you were from Carim? Is that a town near here?”

“By the lords,” Lautrec interrupted. “Your voice…your humanity is really slipping.”

“Uh, rude?” Kirishima said.

“Not from around here, hmm?” Lautrec questioned. “Well then, take this. Before I change my mind.”

Kirishima studied the glowing black orb in Lautrec’s palm. “What is it?”

“Humanity,” Lautrec explained. “It’ll help you stay sane.”

Kirishima picked up the orb between two fingers. It was strangely…warm. “Uh, thanks? I guess…do I eat it or something?”

“Let’s not be greedy now,” Lautrec chuckled. “Wait until you really need it.”

“How will I know?” Kirishima asked.

“You’ll know,” Lautrec snickered. “Most fools have more humanity than they know what to do with.”

Kirishima tucked the humanity into the pocket of his hero costume. He still didn’t know what to make of the knight. He was happy to have freed him, but something about a cell in an abandoned church seemed off. Who had locked him up, and why? How long had he been kept there, trapped in a cell with only this warm darkness called humanity to keep him company?

Still, the man didn’t give off the vibe of a victim. Rather, he walked with an air of confidence, his curved swords swinging back and forth in his clenched fists. The man held his head high, never once looking back at the cell he’d left behind. Although the cell was a dirty grey, the armor was a bright gold. It seemed out of place in a world of ruins and decay. Two arms had been engraved into the knight’s armor, wrapping around his shoulders as if to embrace him. Kirishima couldn’t help but wonder how heavy those arms weighed. Sure the armor would protect him, but how far could the knight travel in a suit of armor that heavy? On that note, how long could Bakugou carry those gauntlets on his arms? How long could Kirishima carry the spikes on his shoulders?

Kirishima was so caught up in his own mind that he barely noticed catching up to the group. Lautrec took the lead, bringing them up a ladder until they reached the roof of the church. Kirishima noticed a glowing gold signature on the ground. When he reached down and held his hand above the color, an image of Solaire emerged. “Hey guys! Look who I found!”

Lautrec stomped one foot down on the signature. “Oh great, the sunbathing idiot is still alive.”

“Why can I see him?” Kirishima questioned.

“It’s a summoning sign,” Lautrec explained. By the tone of Lautrec’s voice, Kirishima wondered if Lautrec was rolling his eyes inside his helm. “If you touch the signature, he’ll be warped here.”

“Warped?” Bakugou questioned.

Before Lautrec could answer, Midoriya chimed in, “Great! We’ll take all the help we can get!”

At first, when Kirishima touched the signature, the signature merely disappeared. For a moment, he worried that he’d messed up. But then, Solaire emerged from the ground, his palms raised to the heavens. Once he’d fully emerged, he went straight to Knight Lautrec and embraced him in a hug. “Sir Lautrec!”

“Get off me!” Lautrec huffed.

“Ah, sorry,” Knight Solaire replied, his voice strangely quiet compared to his usual booming volume. “It’s just, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Todoroki leaned in toward Kirishima and whispered, “It’s kinda like watching you and Bakugou.”

“What was that, half and half?” Bakugou yelled, resting one hand on Kirishima’s shoulder. “If you’re gonna talk shit, say it to my face!”

“I’m glad to see you again, Mr. Solaire,” Midoriya interrupted, “but why exactly do we need so many people for the bell tower?”

“You don’t know?” Solaire questioned. “Why, the tower’s been infested by gargoyles! We can’t ring the bell if we can’t defeat them.” He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed, “They just had to nest in my favorite sungazing spot!”

“You spend too much time in the sun,” Lautrec chided.

“Let’s go already!” Bakugou shouted.

“Yeah, let’s go!” Midoriya cheered, stepping forward.

Todoroki rested a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder, stopping Midoriya in his tracks. “You should stay here.”

“I can help! I'm not useless!” Midoriya looked to Kirishima. “Right?”

Before Kirishima could reply, Lautrec kicked at the fog, but the armor bounced off as if hitting stone rather than air. “If you really must play the hero, then keep an eye out for Oswald. That treacherous leech will blast us right off the roof with his accursed wrath of the gods.”

“Why are the gods mad?” Midoriya questioned. 

“Who knows,” Lautrec replied, his voice strangely somber. He crossed his arms over his chest, resting his hands over the arms engraved into the gold. “Anyway, you can’t miss him. Black robe. Creepy mask. Pale as a bonewheel and just as irritating. If you see him, let me know.” Lautrec drew his swords from his sheaths. "And I'll take good care of him."

Before Kirishima could ask what the heck a bonewheel was, Lautrec turned around, raised his head high, and stared into the cold grey fog as he announced, “Let’s get a move on. I have work to do…keh heh heh heh...”

Chapter Text

When Kirishima stepped through the fog gate, he expected the fog to weigh down his shoulders – like the fog that had warped the heroes to this strange land. This fog, however, was gentle and cool against his sweaty skin, like stepping through a sprinkler on a hot summer day. When Kirihsima looked over his shoulder, he could see the others stepping through the gate – Bakugou, Todoroki, Lautrec, and Solaire. Everyone except Midoriya, who stayed behind on the other side of the fog.

Kirishima trailed behind Solaire, focusing on the roof under his feet rather than the knot in his gut. He wasn’t sure why he felt so sick to his stomach – the guilt of leaving Midoriya behind? or the fear of fighting villains on a dilapidated roof? He envied Bakugou’s ability to blast himself into the sky, maneuvering through the air with all the grace and prowess of a hawk diving for prey. Kirishima could barely even walk on his own two feet, could barely focus on the sound of their steps against a roof that could give in at any moment.

And then, Kirishima heard a strange crumbling sound. At first, he feared that the roof was indeed giving in. But when he looked up, he found a gargoyle coming to life. The gargoyle crashed onto the roof, wings outstretched, and howled. It raised its spear, bringing the blade down for an overhead smash. Todoroki unleashed a wave of ice, stopping the spear in place. Bakugou raced behind the beast, sending an explosion into its back. As the beast turned its head toward Bakugou, snapping its jaws, Lautrec rushed in – his shotel slicing the beast’s neck. Its blood splattered red against his gold armor.

While Lautrec and Todoroki battled the first gargoyle, another gargoyle leaped from the bell tower, diving for the group. Solaire hurled a lightning bolt at the beast, causing the gargoyle to crash into the roof. Bakugou rushed in and Kirishima followed, his legs so shaky that he could barely keep up. The beast opened its mouth, and at the sight of the orange sparks in its scowl, Kirishima grabbed Bakugou’s arm and yanked him backward. Kirishima hardened his body, shielding Bakugou from the fire that spewed out of its howl. Before the fire could reach his friends, Kirishima stepped forward and sent a fist into the flames. With the blaze blinding his vision, he wasn’t sure where he was aiming, but whatever he hit cracked under his hardened fist. Even when the flame subsided, Kirishima still couldn’t see well enough to make out what he’d hit. He could barely see the beast’s outline as it stumbled off the ledge.

The beast swung its ax on the way down, knocking Kirishima off the roof as well. He spiraled toward the courtyard, hardening his whole body before crashing into the bricks. For a moment, he wondered if he hadn’t survived. He couldn’t see a damn thing when he opened his eyes – just a dull grey circle in the sky. But when he rested his hand on the bricks, he felt something warm at his fingertips. He smelled burnt flesh – likely the spot where Solaire had pierced the beast with a lightning bolt. Kirishima didn’t need to regain his vision to know that the beast hadn’t survived the fall. He heard a scream – the final cry of the first gargoyle from somewhere above. The silence that followed told Kirishima everything he needed to know.

Kirishima slowly pushed himself to his feet, not sure how to feel about the creature he’d just killed. Sure the beast had attacked him and his friends, but he’s the one who’d invaded the beast’s home – its nest, as Solaire had called it. Kirishima couldn’t feel proud of his victory, even if he wanted to. He just felt empty. And tired. Very, very tired.

Kirishima kept both arms raised as he walked step by step, like how he’d stumble through his bedroom at night until finding the light switch. Kirishima didn’t reach any light, but he did find the brick wall of the church, cold and rough under his palms. Kirishima leaned against this wall, took a breath, and listened. He could hear the songs of birds coming from the nearby trees. He could hear the wind rustling through the leaves. And he could hear more explosions, each one louder than the last. Kirishima tried to lift his neck to trace the source of the sound, only to find that his head was too heavy.

“Kirishima!”

The explosions weren’t louder. No, they were closer. 

“Kirishima!”

Kirishima smiled. Even with his blurred vision, he could still make out the telltale spikes of the hero’s hair. “Hey, Bakugou.”

Bakugou grabbed Kirishima by the collar of his hero costume, pinning him against the wall. “You idiot! You could’ve been killed!”

Kirishima only smiled wider. “I saved you, didn’t I?”

Bakugou pushed harder. “Whaddaya want? A goddamn medal?”

Kirishima shrugged. Or at least, he tried to shrug. There wasn’t much room to move – or to breathe, for that matter – with Bakugou this close. He cleared his throat and replied, “A thank you would be nice.”

Bakugou let go. At first, Kirishima missed the contact. That is, until Bakugou cupped Kirishima’s chin in his palms. He lifted Kirishima’s chin slowly, fingers trailing up his jawline and into his hair. Everything – the songs of birds, the howling wind, the heart pounding in someone’s chest – it all went quiet as soon as their lips met. Before Kirishima could really catch up to what was happening, Bakugou pulled away. He stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest, and muttered a thanks under his breath. Moments later, the rest of the group came rushing out of the church – minus a certain sun worshipping knight.

“Kirishima, are you alright?!” Midoriya asked.

“Amazing,” Kirishima smiled.

“He must’ve hit his head,” Todoroki said.

“We should get him to a bonfire right away,” Midoriya suggested.

“No one touches him but me,” Bakugou barked.

“Kachaan, I know you’re very protective over Kirishima-kun,” Midoriya muttered. “But for his sake, it would be best if someone helped you carry him.”

“Fucking fine,” Bakugou hissed. “Icyhot and Deku, go check out the bell tower. Golden Shower, you’re coming with me.”

“Golden Shower?” Lautrec questioned. “How dare you insult Lautrec the Embraced.”

“At least you’re not shitty hair,” Kirishima mumbled.

“Keh heh heh,” Lautrec chuckled, lifting Kirishima with one arm while Bakugou supported the other arm. “I suppose I should count myself lucky.”

“Damn right,” Bakugou said, pulling Kirishima toward the church.

Lautrec tugged the opposite direction. “ This way , you imbecile. There’s a bonfire in the geezer’s workshop.”

Bakugou grumbled insults under his breath, but he did follow Lautrec’s lead. 

And with that, Kirishima moved onward. Under his left arm, Lautrec’s cold metal armor. Under his right arm, Bakugou’s warm skin. He tried not to look at the gargoyle as they passed it by. He tried not to focus on the blood that covered Lautrec’s armor. Instead, he focused on Bakugou. He listened to the ins and outs of his breaths, wondering what it would sound like if he pressed an ear to Bakugou’s chest. His quirk fatigue certainly wasn’t the only reason for his dizziness. That kiss had set all the gears in his head spinning into motion.

Kirishima couldn’t focus on Bakugou, after all. That was even more distracting than his dizziness. And so he focused on their journey. They traveled over a stone walkway with tree canopies on each side – a path that connected the church to the workshop , as Lautrec had called it. When they stepped into the building, Kirishima could certainly smell the traces of metal and fire, but he didn’t see any weapons or shields. Just a wooden staircase that led to a bonfire. Or rather, the pitiful remains of a bonfire. Kirishima’s stomach filled with dread – or maybe hunger – as he gazed at the lingering embers. Unlike the crackling bonfire that they’d found after the dragon, this bonfire was so small that it made no sound and held no warmth.

Kirishima knelt by the embers. “Is it...dead?”

Lautrec chuckled, the sound echoing in the tiny wooden room. But when he spoke, his voice sounded as bitter as ever, “Pay attention, little moths. I’m only showing you once.”

Lautrec held one hand over the fire, as if to reach for something that he’d dropped, something that he’d lost in the flames. And then, to Kirishima’s amazement, the flames burst open, blazing with the same warmth as he’d remembered. As the fire crackled to life, the sound of a bell broke through Kirishima’s awe. It was a pleasant sound, one that reminded him of when he used to go to church. Back before he learned that his feelings were considered sin. Although he certainly didn’t miss the long sermons or hard pews, he did miss the church bells. He missed the home he’d found. The home he’d lost.

“What happened to Knight Solaire?” Kirishima asked as his head became clearer. He remembered the lightning bolt that Solaire had tossed as effortlessly as a football, a feat that would make Kaminari jealous. At the thought of his old friend, Kirishima’s heart sank, but he had to know what had happened to his new friend. And so he said, “Please tell me he survived the battle.”

“Of course he survived,” Lautrec answered. “He might be an idiot, but he’s a strong idiot. Besides, even if he did get killed, it was only his phantom you summoned.”

Before Kirishima could inquire further, Lautrec held his blades above the fire. Kirishima watched as the flames devoured the blood, leaving the shotels as spotless as they’d been before the battle. Lautrec’s armor, too, returned to its shimmering gold, a color that Kirishima could finally see now that his vision had returned. And with that, Lautrec rested his hands on his hips and said, “Well, it’s been a pleasure, but I really must be going. I have business to attend to.”

“What kind of business?” Bakugou questioned.

Lautrec sheathed his swords, slowly, so the sound lingered in the otherwise quiet room. “Our futures are murky...let’s not be too friendly, now.”

And with that, Lautrec retreated up the staircase, leaving Bakugou and Kirishima alone once again. Kirishima worried about Lautrec’s so-called business. Did it involve the man named Oswald? Was Lautrec trying to find his way home to Carim, just as Kirishima was trying to find his way back to U.A.? Or did some other motive sharpen the blades of the golden knight?

Even so, Kirishima knew that the knight had only helped the heroes. He’d fought the gargoyles. He’d led them to this very bonfire. He’d even given Kirishima a humanity, something that seemed to be quite valuable in this decaying world. Was it all an act to win their favor while maintaining a safe distance? Or did the knight’s actions speak to his compassion even when his tongue conveyed only disdain?

Although his head remained heavy with these thoughts, Kirishima’s body felt lighter the longer they stayed by the bonfire. He could see that the blood on his own hands had evaporated in the firelight. He smiled at Bakugou only to realize that Bakugou was scowling. He didn’t look angry. Just focused, like how he looked when he was solving a problem during a test. Not that Kirishima would ever steal glances at Bakugou in class, mind you. He just couldn’t help but notice when the gears were turning in his friend’s brain.

Still, friends don’t kiss friends. And Bakugou had definitely kissed him. Was that what Bakugou was thinking about? Or something else? Kirishima cleared his throat and asked, “What’s on your mind?”

Bakugou met his gaze. “Sunburn warped in here.”

Kirishima offered a nervous smile. “Do you mean Knight Solaire?”

Bakugou nodded. “If he can warp in, maybe we can warp out.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Kirishima replied, pulling the white soapstone out of his pocket. “Solaire gave me this. He said we can use it to summon each other between worlds. But I think you can only warp where you’ve already been. And it seems like you can’t warp the body with this thing – only your phantom, or whatever Lautrec called it.”

“Oh,” Bakugou said, burying his face in his palms.

“Hey,” Kirishima said, scooching closer to Bakugou. “It’ll be alright. If we can warp to places inside this world, then there’s gotta be a way to warp outside .”

Bakugou looked up, wiping tears from his eyes. “I wanna go home, Kirishima.”

Kirishima wrapped his arm around Bakugou’s shoulder. “Yeah, me too. Say, what’s the first thing you wanna do when you get back?”

Bakugou shrugged, his shoulder moving under Kirishima’s arm. “I dunno, get a burger or something? I haven’t had an appetite since I got here, and it’s really fucking weird.”

“I’ll buy us some burgers then,” Kirishima said.

Bakugou shook his head. “No, I’m buying. I’ll pay you back for saving my ass.”

Kirishima winked. “Didn’t you already thank me?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal, shitty hair.”

“Oh,” Kirishima said, removing his arm from Bakugou’s shoulder. Maybe it really wasn’t a big deal for Bakugou. Maybe it was just the adrenaline rush after battle. Maybe it meant nothing to him.

Bakugou cleared his throat, as if to say something. Before he could speak, Midoriya and Todoroki made their way to the bonfire.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. “Which one of you fuckers rang the bell?”

Midoriya squeaked, like a mouse caught in a trap.

“You stupid nerd,” Bakugou growled. “You just gotta let the villains know our location, dontcha?”

“Or our teacher!” Midoriya defended. “All Might’s here somewhere!”

“How do you know?” Bakugou questioned.

“I don’t,” Midoriya admitted. “But I’ve got a good feeling about it!”

“If All Might’s here,” Todoroki said, “then Nomu is too.”

And with that, the group fell silent. Kirishima didn’t like the tension that had fallen over the group, like the moments before an explosion. Not a metaphorical explosion, as evidenced by the sparks popping in Bakugou’s palms. If Kirishima didn’t diffuse the ticking time bomb sitting right next to him, then he’d be the one blasted to a whole other dimension. And so Kirishima banged his hardened fists together, making a clank sound that got everyone’s attention. He cleared his throat and said, “If All Might was here, he would’ve heard the battle way before the bell. Since he’s not here, I’m gonna bet that he got warped somewhere else.” He glanced at Bakugou, then turned his attention back to the group. “We talked to a knight who said there were two bells. One above. One below. If we find the one below, maybe we’ll find All Might.”

“Did he say how to get there?” Todoroki asked.

Kirishima shook his head.

“I saw a forest from the bell tower,” Midoriya announced. He turned to Bakugou and said, “Maybe we should check it out?”

“Fine with me,” Bakugou said.

Midoriya stared at Bakugou in slack jawed wonder.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “What?!”

Midoriya winced. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Kachaan, but I’m surprised you’re going along with my plan.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “I’ll try your shitty plan.”

“Great!” Midoriya said. He looked around, as if searching for someone, and then asked, “Where’s Lautrec?”

Kirishima looked to Bakugou, expecting him to bark out something along the lines of who knows or who cares . When Bakugou remained silent, Kirishima spoke up. “He left already.”

Midoriya smiled. “Oh, good!”

“Good?” Kirishima asked.

Midoriya nodded. “We ran into Oswald at the bell tower.” 

“Really?” Kirishima questioned. “What happened?”

Midoriya held his arms out wide, as if welcoming someone into a hug. “He raised his arms like this and said, ‘GREETINGS!’ And we said, ‘HELLO!’ And then we came back.”

Todoroki elbowed Midoriya. “That’s not what happened.”

Midoriya gave Todoroki a dirty look. “You said we’d keep it between us!”

“I changed my mind,” Todoroki said with a small smirk. “Tell them.”

Midoriya sighed, resigned to his fate. “Well, I sorta gave him a hug...and he sorta blasted me away.” He rubbed his head sheepishly, glancing in Bakugou’s direction. “It was like one of your explosions, except invisible! It didn’t hurt or anything.”

“Your feelings were hurt,” Todoroki said.

“Well, yeah!” Midoriya huffed. “You just stood there and laughed!”

“I couldn’t help it,” Todoroki said. “It was funny.”

Kirishima couldn’t imagine a laugh coming out of Todoroki’s mouth. He also couldn’t form a clear picture of this Oswald guy. He only hoped that Lautrec didn’t run into him. He was sure a hug from Midoriya would be treated quite differently than the arms wrapping around Lautrec’s armor.

“Anyway ,” Midoriya said, waving his hand as if to swat away the subject. “We should get going. There’s no time to waste when it comes to finding All Might.” He smiled wide, as if imitating the number one hero. “Dekusquad, out!”

Midoriya glanced between two paths – a path outside to an enormous fortress, and a staircase that led farther down. Midoriya chose the stairs, and the rest of the group followed closely behind. They entered a room that appeared to be a workshop – weapons propped against the wall, a smithing table, a strong metallic scent. No blacksmith. After passing through the workshop, they stepped into an enormous empty room – well, it would be empty, if it weren’t for the dead demon in the middle of the wreckage, pillars and blood scattered across the space. The demon’s blood was not red but black. It must’ve been slaughtered recently, judging by how blood still spilled out of the place where its tail had been severed.

Kirishima turned away from the dead demon and looked at Bakugou instead. “Hey man, are you alright?” 

Bakugou shook his head. “I’m worried about All Might.”

Kirishima raised his arm to wrap it around Bakugou’s shoulder, but at the last moment, he hesitated. He closed his hand into a fist, giving Bakugou a gentle nudge in the arm. “Yeah, I’m worried too. But did you see that guy when he was fighting Nomu? He’s unstoppable!”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bakugou smiled. “You’re a good friend, Kirishima.”

So the kiss really wasn’t a big deal after all. Kirishima clenched his fists tighter, the nails digging into his palms. As they stepped out of the room and into the forest, he looked ahead – as he’d seen Bakugou do a hundred times before. He was so focused on the path before him that he didn’t notice the hero beside him. He didn’t notice Bakugou staring at Kirishima’s hand, debating whether or not he should hold it in his own.

Chapter Text

Lautrec stared at the statue, as if his glare could cause the marble to crumble. He still felt indignant that he, Lautrec the Embraced, had been rescued by a group of lost children. Still, if those dumb kids hadn’t stumbled into his cell, he wouldn’t be standing before this statue at all. It was a sculpture of a mother cradling an infant, surprisingly intact even when the rest of the parish had succumbed to decay. Candles cast shadows over the white folds of the mother’s habit and the baby’s blanket, each carved out of the same white marble. The statue was so tall that he couldn’t see if mother and child were smiling or frowning. He could only see the expression of the corpse resting beneath the statue - an open mouthed expression of either hope or horror.

Although the statue remained in pristine condition, Lautrec couldn’t say the same about the dead woman at his feet. She had curled up in a fetal position, much like a baby sleeping in a blanket. Except the blanket wasn’t a blanket at all, but a habit - the one adorned by clerics before they take their pilgrimage into the Catacombs. Its white fabric had faded into a rotten yellow. The body had succumbed to skin and bones, as if maggots had devoured the inside of the corpse but left the outside untouched. This woman had never left on her pilgrimage. Perhaps she had succumbed to the knights guarding the parish. Or perhaps she’d poisoned herself before the altar, preferring her last words to be her own prayers rather than the screams of the Catacombs skeletons.

Lautrec couldn’t know for sure. He only knew that her folded hands had grasped onto a firekeeper soul, a boon of humanity that Lautrec still kept. He had to pry her stiff fingers open just to retrieve the soul, as if she’d guarded the treasure long after death. Its warmth had helped him survive the years in that cold cell. He could’ve consumed the humanity at any point, but he wanted to save the soul for when he truly needed it most. He wouldn’t go hollow. The more humanity he stocked up, the less this possibility ate away at him like the maggots that had eaten the cleric’s flesh.

And yet, this firekeeper soul was the very reason that he’d been locked up in the first place. Scratch that - it was Oswald’s fault that he’d been locked up. Just as Lautrec tucked away the firekeeper soul, that bastard had snuck up from behind. Oswald blasted him so violently with his Wrath of the Gods that Lautrec’s helm smashed into the altar, knocking him out cold.

When he awoke, Oswald stood on the other side of the cell. Although Lautrec’s head was still fuzzy, he heard words here and there. Like sin. And confession. Oswald accused Lautrec of machinations to violate the corpse, a thought that made Lautrec’s stomach churn in disgust. And yet, he couldn’t refute the accusations. If Lautrec told the truth about the soul he’d pried out of a dead woman’s hands, the priest might confiscate his prize. And so when Oswald demanded Lautrec repent for his sins, Lautrec hadn’t said a word. The priest abandoned Lautrec in the church cell, and there Lautrec had waited until that red haired idiot busted the lock with his bare hands.

Lautrec turned away from the statue, walking back in the direction of his cell. Each step felt way too heavy, like his armor was made of marble rather than metal. He wished that the heaviness was simply fatigue from the gargoyle battle. Truth be told, he hadn’t felt well ever since he’d woken up in that cell. No, before then - the more humanity he’d collected, the larger the emptiness in his chest. Like an hourglass with a hole in the bottom, where the sands of memory kept slipping out. It must be the process of hollowing, Lautrec had reasoned. And so he’d continued collecting humanity - that is, until he’d found the firekeeper soul.

Although gravity fought him with every step, Lautrec marched onward, passing the door that the pyromaniac had busted down. Emphasis on the maniac. Lautrec had met plenty of cutthroat knights - after all, he’d grown up in Carim - but that Bakugou kid reached a whole new level of malice. He had to admit he’d taken a liking to the boy’s audacity. The whole group put up a hell of a fight with the gargoyles, something that any knight of Carim could respect. He had even grown to respect Solaire’s fighting prowess, especially when Solaire plucked the beast out of the skies with a lightning bolt. When he’d first met Solaire, he’d pegged the knight as a simple madman. Upon this second meeting, he wondered if Solaire was strong enough to take down dragons. Hell, the kids were strong enough to challenge a hellkite.

Well, except Midoriya.

Lautrec stepped onto the parish roof, where Midoriya had waited until the battle was won. Lautrec didn’t really need Midoriya looking out for Oswald - after all, he knew exactly where to find that bastard. But he didn’t want to worry about the kid falling off the roof. The red haired buffoon survived the fall without a scratch, but Midoriya would’ve shattered. He could tell that the kid had the heart of a knight, but without sword or shield, Lordran would eat him alive. He couldn’t even protect himself from a Blighttown mosquito, much less gargoyles spewing fire.

“Lautrec!”

Lautrec paused, cursing the gods under his helm. So much for sneaking up on Oswald.

“What is it?” Lautrec huffed, eyes set on the entrance to the bell tower.

Solaire stepped in front of Lautrec, obscuring his vision. Between breaths, he said, “I’m glad...I found you...sir...Lautrec!”

“Why are you winded?” Lautrec asked.

“I ran all the way here!” Solaire replied.

Lautrec didn’t need to ask how far the knight had run. He knew that the idiot must’ve been staring at the sun on the other side of the parish. It’s where Lautrec had first met Solaire, a time before he’d been locked up in a dark cell.

“Well?” Lautrec asked. “What was so important that you ran all this way?”

Solaire offered a small gold coin. “It’s for you!”

No, not a coin, Lautrec realized. A medal, one with the sun etched into the gold. “What in Fina’s name is this?”

“A sunlight medal!” Solaire replied. “For the Warriors of Sunlight covenant, it’s common courtesy to offer your comrade a sunlight medal.”

“Did you make this?” Lautrec asked.

“Indeed!” Solaire replied.

When Lautrec looked up from the trinket, he met Solaire’s gaze. Although he couldn't see anything past the slit in his helm, the way his eyes squinted suggested that Solaire was smiling. Lautrec was grateful that Solaire couldn’t see anything under his helm, else his own smile would betray him.

“I’ve never heard of this covenant,” Lautrec said, trying to keep his voice even. Emotionless.

Solaire scratched at his helm, making a dull scraping sound. “Well, it’s a small covenant, you see...I haven’t exactly convinced anyone to join me.”

Lautrec looked back down at the medal, trying to find some ulterior motive in Solaire’s actions. Was he trying to buy his loyalty with the gift? Was it cursed in some way, like the relics of the Abyss? Yet he could find no harm in the gesture. It certainly wasn’t as high quality as the metals that Fina had used to craft his armor. It didn’t shine in the sun that seeped in and out of the clouds. Still, it would be rude to refuse a gift, even one that came from a madman. Especially a madman who could prove useful to keep on good terms.

An idea sprouted in Lautrec’s mind, one that devoured all else like a flame devouring kindling. He could barely keep the smirk from seeping into his voice.

“Convince me then,” Lautrec challenged.

“Beg your pardon?” Solaire asked.

“Convince me to join your covenant,” Lautrec said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go on. I haven’t got all day.”

Solaire clapped his hands together, less like a knight and more like a child. “Do you mean it, sir Lautrec? Do you really wish to join the Warriors of Sunlight?”

Lautrec sighed, tapping one foot against the roof. “Would I ever lie to you, Solaire?”

“I hardly think so,” Solaire replied without missing a beat. “The way I see it, our fates appear to be intertwined. I never thought I’d see you again, sir Lautrec. Yet here we are, under the same brilliant sun, in a land brimming with hollows. Could that really be mere chance?”

Lautrec nodded, even though he had no clue what Solaire was going on about.

“To be a Warrior of Sunlight,” Solaire continued, “is to engage in jolly cooperation! We must help our fellow undead at every turn. Most importantly, we must praise the sun!”

Praise the sun? Solaire’s drabble made about as much sense as the Way of White’s scripture.

“To join this covenant,” Solaire continued, “we praise the sun at a special altar. From there, I can officially knight you as a warrior of the...!”

“By the lords!” Lautrec interrupted. “I completely forgot, I’d already joined the Way of White covenant. Why, I don’t want any sin on my hands...whatever is a knight to do?”

“Don’t fret!” Solaire said. “There’s a priest by the name of Oswald who can break the bond with your former covenant. In fact, he lives right in this bell tower!”

“Our fates really are intertwined!” Lautrec replied, trying his best to feign surprise. “Let’s find this Oswald fellow immediately. The sooner I can join your covenant, the better.”

Solaire raised his arms in a peculiar gesture, both hands reaching skyward. Then, he lowered his arms and said, “Follow me, sir Lautrec. I’ll take you to Oswald.”

Lautrec stepped into Solaire’s shadow, following the knight into the bell tower. With Solaire at his side, Oswald wouldn’t dare use his blasted Wrath of the Gods. Not unless he wanted a lightning bolt to the face. Lautrec had seen the gash that Solaire’s lightning had made in the gargoyle’s flesh. He’d love to see that same wound in the priest’s still beating chest. Even better, he’d love to press his blade into the priest’s neck, the blade cutting through skin as effortlessly as a thorn pricking a fingertip.

But when Lautrec stepped into the bell tower, another knight had already wrapped her hands around the priest’s neck, the white flesh turning an unsettling purple as she pinned him against the wall. “What the hell do you mean somebody already rang the bell?!”

“What’s gotten into you?” Solaire demanded, drawing his sword. “Stop this at once!”

The knight turned her head toward Solaire, but her grip only tightened around Oswald’s neck. “Take another step,” she dared, “and I’ll set the whole tower ablaze.”

A pyromancer, Lautrec realized. He could’ve let the knight strangle Oswald to death. But that seemed even worse than letting the bastard live. It was Lautrec’s prey, after all. Not this poorly dressed excuse of a knight. She wore one of the hollow’s waistcloths, a fabric so shoddy it was falling apart at the seams. No gloves. No shoes. The only part actually protected was her head, covered by a helm that resembled a boar. A helm so garrish that Lautrec wanted to slaughter her instead of Oswald. If it weren’t for the fire flickering in her hand, she would’ve been an easy kill. But in this bell tower, there wasn’t any cover to hide from the flames. Lautrec couldn’t use force to get what he wanted. He had to use a different strategy.

“I wouldn’t kill that spineless leech, if I were you,” Lautrec said.

“Oh, really?” the girl mocked. “Do you wanna burn too?”

“By all means, choke him to death,” Lautrec replied with a shrug. “But it would be a terrible shame if you got cursed.”

“Cursed?!” the girl demanded. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

Lautrec turned around, taking a step out of the bell tower. “It’s your funeral.”

“Wait!” the girl said from behind him.

Lautrec grinned beneath his helmet, turning his head over his shoulder. “Yes, dearie?”

The girl tossed Oswald to the ground. “Keep talking.”

“Take these,” Oswald said as he got onto his knees, his hands clenched together as if in prayer. “They’re purging stones. They’ll dispel any curse.”

Lautrec knew exactly what was coming next. He grabbed Solaire by the arm, pulling him out of the bell tower just in time for Wrath of the Gods to take effect. The explosion sent the girl crashing into the wall, and Lautrec swore he could hear a crack where bones had broken. He could also hear the bells ringing at a maddening pace, trembling from the sheer force of the explosion. Just as the bells began to slow down, Oswald stepped out of the bell tower, holding his head high even though the bruise on his neck must’ve hurt like hell.

“Magnanimous are the gods,” Oswald croaked, a crooked grin spreading just under his mask. Although he directed his voice at the heavens, Lautrec could feel the priest’s eyes burning into his.

“Is she...dead?” Solaire choked.

“By the grace of the gods, she is alive,” Oswald replied. “Yet as soon as she wakes from her divine slumber, I fear her wrath will burn this house of worship to ash.”

“What did she want?” Solaire asked.

“She seeketh the one who hath rung the bell,” Oswald revealed.

“Why’d she attack you?” Solaire asked.

“I dared not say the chosen one’s name. Only a fool would tamper with the plans of the gods.” Oswald bowed. “Now tell me, good knights...how may I repay your grace?”

“I’m leaving a covenant,” Lautrec replied. “I wish to be free of sin.”

“Free of sin, hmm?” Oswald lifted his head, revealing a smug grin. He removed his glove and said, “So be it, old friend. You must remove thy glove as well.”

“Why?” Lautrec asked, unsure if he was asking about why he needed to remove his armor, or why his jailer had deemed them friends.

Oswald smiled wider. “I promise no harm will come to my savior.”

Lautrec removed his glove, letting Oswald’s fingers rest on his palm. The pale skin felt cold, like fallen snow, even as the sun peeked out from the clouds. And then, Lautrec felt something else - a hole in his chest that filled, like water seeping into parched earth. When Oswald pulled his hand away, Lautrec felt lighter. He felt stronger, like the time before he’d snatched the firekeeper soul. No, before then - before he’d pried the ribs of a dead man open to steal the humanity from his still warm heart.

“What the hell did you do to me?!” Lautrec demanded.

“I’ve forgiven thy sin,” Oswald said.

“But I didn’t…”

“Greed,” Oswald interrupted, “is a sin.” He giggled, a high-pitched cackle that sent shivers down Lautrec’s spine. He pressed something cold in Lautrec’s palm - a dagger, Lautrec realized. Not just any dagger - a parrying dagger crafted in their shared homeland of Carim. Oswald rested his hand over Lautrec’s. One finger traced the curve of the blade, Oswald’s blood dripping warm in Lautrec’s palm. Oswald leaned in and whispered, as if sharing a secret. Or a prayer. “If you slip into sin again, you’ll want to keep me alive, my friend. Only a priest of Velka can heal the dark sign that festers deep in the hearts of mankind.”

Chapter Text

Midoriya’s plan sounded great in theory. Step 1: explore the woods. Step 2: find the second bell. Step 3: maybe find All Might. Maybe get back home. At the very least, Midoriya had mentioned that they’d learn the fate of the undead by ringing both bells. If Kirishima really was one of the undead, like Solaire had suggested, it seemed like useful information to know.

But the heroes didn’t find any bells in the woods. Only trees that took on a humanlike form. Unrooted to the earth, they walked on wooden feet. Like the pro hero Kamui Woods, the trees could extend their arms to whack their enemies. Except these trees didn’t pose much of a threat. Todoroki froze the trees with ease, rendering their attacks useless. Even the knights that towered over the group were frozen to their posts. The only thing that the guy didn’t freeze on sight was the enormous green butterfly.

That, and the giant door in the middle of the woods. No building. Just a door, as if the rest of the structure had crumbled away long ago. Even stranger was how the door emitted a dark purple light, glowing like the embers of a dying fire. Like the humanity that Kirishima had tucked away for safekeeping. Could the humanity be the key to opening the door?

Kirishima held the humanity, cupping it in his palms so the violet light seeped through his fingers. But when he held out his hands, the door didn’t open. Was the door sealed by someone’s quirk? Was it a sign that they should turn around while they still could?

“Where’d you get that...thing? ” Bakugou questioned.

“Lautrec gave it to me,” Kirishima replied. “He called it a humanity. It’s almost like it’s...alive .”

“I don’t care what it is,” Bakugou huffed. “If it doesn’t get us through this stupid door, it’s useless. Hell, this whole area is useless. It’s just a bunch of good for nothing trees. Why are we still here?”

Just to suffer, Kirishima almost replied. Instead, he turned his head over his shoulder and asked, “Uh, Midoriya? Are you sure this is the right way?”

“Not at all!” Midoriya said with a smile. “But it’s worth exploring, isn’t it? We could find useful items!”

“Like what?” Bakugou mocked. “A tree branch?”

“That giant butterfly was pretty cool,” Kirishima joined in.

“No it wasn’t!” Bakugou yelled. “It shot lasers at me!”

“Maybe it was just scared,” Kirishima said. “You did shoot at it.”

“Yeah, and Todoroki blocked the explosion with his goddamn ice!” Bakugou yelled, turning his glare to Todoroki. “I had a clean shot before you intervened.”

“I thought the butterfly was cool too,” Todoroki deadpanned.

“And now it can live a happy butterfly life!” Midoriya chimed in.

“Ugggh,” Bakugou groaned. “I don’t care about some stupid bug. I want to get back to my life!” And with that, he blasted himself over the door. Todoroki grabbed Midoriya, creating a path of ice that led over the door and back down into the forest. Kirishima treaded the path, careful not to slip on the way down.

By the time he reached the other side, the other three had already engaged in battle. Bakugou shouted DIE! at a villain with a quirk that let him shoot blue lasers from a stick. Todoroki and Midoriya teamed up against two other villains in the distance. Kirishima took a breath, preparing to join the fight, when he noticed that Solaire’s soapstone had dulled, losing its light. The door behind him had changed into a heavy grey fog. Something was coming.

And then, Kirishima saw it – a phantom racing straight for him. As opposed to Solaire’s gold phantom, this phantom was red. He wore armor that clanked with each step as he raced through the woods. He held an enormous sword with both hands. Strangest of all, he sported a mask - a golden mask of a man with a very manly beard. Kirishima waved in greeting, glad to meet a fellow traveler who embraced manly ideals.

In turn, the phantom swung his sword down. Kirishima dodged, and the sword struck earth rather than flesh. If this man was just a phantom, he wouldn’t die. But if he was real, then Kirishima couldn’t kill him – much less strike a blow. Not knowing what to believe, Kirishima focused on dodging, hoping that the enemy would wear himself out. However, Kirishima soon realized that the enemy had plenty of endurance.

And so Kirishima switched to the offensive. He sharpened his fingers into blades and slashed at the armor, but all he did was nick the metal. He searched for an opening, but the only opening that he found was the back of the neck. And that would definitely kill him.

Nonetheless, Kirishima couldn’t lose. He needed to help his friends.

Just as Kirishima prepared to attack, the phantom held his arms to his chest and emitted a blast of wind. Was this the phantom’s quirk? Before Kirishima could answer, the phantom sent another blast, sending Kirishima even closer to the edge. He still didn’t have enough energy to use his unbreakable form on his whole body, meaning that the only way out was through. He lunged forward, but a third blast staggered him backwards, sending his spine crashing into the earth. As the phantom raised his sword, Kirishima hardened from shoulders to fingertips, looking right into the mask’s hollowed black eyes as the sword came down.

With his hardened hands, Kirishima grabbed the blade, yanked it free, and yeeted the sword over the cliff.

The phantom held his arms out wide in a mocking gesture - as if to say, Well? What is it?

A blast exploded from behind, so bright that Kirishima couldn’t see anything but white. When his vision returned, Kirishima found Bakugou standing alone.

“Why didn’t you kill him?” Bakugou demanded as he stomped toward Kirishima. “Why’d you hesitate?”

Kirishima got back onto his feet. “I wasn’t sure if he was a real person.”

Bakugou jabbed his finger into Kirishima’s chest. “It doesn’t matter! If it’s your life or theirs…for fuck’s sake, pick your own life!”

“Knock if off!” Kirishima shouted, swatting Bakugou’s hand away. “You’re gonna push me off the cliff!”

“So stop me!” Bakugou challenged, shoving Kirishima backward.

Kirishima lunged forward, pinning Bakugou to the ground, hardening his hands over Bakugou’s wrists to nullify the explosions. “What’s gotten into you?!”

Bakugou’s explosions went silent. Kirishima heard Midoriya and Todoroki battling villains in the distance. He heard his own breaths, heavy and strained.  And then, he heard a choking sound coming from Bakugou’s throat. Bakugou muttered something under his breath, but his voice was so strained that Kirishima couldn’t make out the words.

“What did you say?” Kirishima asked as calmly as he could muster.

“I can’t lose you,” Bakugou answered. “Not again. Please, not again.”

Kirishima released Bakugou’s wrists. “I’m here, Bakugou.”

“Not if you get killed,” Bakugou growled as he sat back up. “Not if you hesitate.”

Kirishima sat beside Bakugou, their legs dangling off the edge of the cliff. “Next time, I won’t hesitate.”

“Promise?” Bakugou asked, his voice softer than Kirishima had ever heard it.

Kirishima extended his hand. “Promise.”

Bakugou took Kirishima’s hand in his. Except rather than shaking Kirishima’s hand, Bakugou held on. He ran his thumb over Kirishima’s wrist in slow circles. Kirishima didn’t understand how a hero who exploded for a living could have such soft skin. He didn’t understand why Bakugou held his hand. Was it the adrenaline? Or the stress from being warped to another dimension?

“Is this okay?” Bakugou asked, pausing his movements.

Truth be told, Kirishima wasn’t okay. He was tired. Not only from overusing his quirk, but also from overusing his head. Kirishima thought he’d outgrown his middle school phase of overthinking, and freezing, and hesitating when it mattered the most. But even if he couldn’t take down the red phantom, the least he could do was man up and tell the truth.

This time, he wouldn’t hesitate.

And so Kirishima took a breath, looked Bakugou in the eyes, and said, “I like you. As more than a friend.”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes into a glare. “Hah?!”

“I know it’s sudden,” Kirishima added. “And I know it’s not the right time, but…”

“Why are you telling me this?” Bakugou questioned.

“I just wanted you to know,” Kirishima replied.

“No, I mean…” Bakugou groaned, pinching his forehead. “Why are you telling me something I already know? Are you sure your shitty hair isn’t growing into your brain?”

“You knew?!” Kirishima shrieked.

“Well, yeah,” Bakugou deadpanned. “It was obvious.”

“Do you like me too?” Kirishima asked.

“Why else would I kiss you?” Bakugou demanded.

“Adrenaline?” Kirishima suggested.

“Great,” Bakugou scoffed, slapping himself on the forehead. “I like a total fucking moron.”

Before Kirishima could defend himself, Bakugou pressed their lips together for the second time. This time, Kirishima didn’t hear his own racing thoughts. He just heard the chirp of crickets. He heard Bakugou’s hand shifting through the grass until finding Kirishima’s hand once again. He heard Bakugou hum against his lips.

“Ahem.”

Bakugou pulled away. “What do you want, Icyhot?”

Todoroki sighed. “If you keep this up, I’ll make out with Midoriya in front of you.”

“Disgusting,” Bakugou scoffed.

“You two are together?!” Kirishima shouted. “Congrats, man!”

“Thanks,” Todoroki said with a small smile.

“Don’t congratulate him,” Bakugou scolded. “Deku deserves to be forever alone.”

“You’re just mad that we hooked up before you,” Todoroki replied.

“Hey everyone!” Midoriya chirped as he joined the group, as if oblivious to the tiny explosions crackling in Bakugou’s palms. “I talked to a cat and she told me the right way to go!”

Todoroki crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you eat the purple moss?”

Midoriya waved his hands back and forth. “No way!”

“A talking cat isn’t all that strange,” Kirishima mused. “Y’know, the U.A. principal is a small mammal.”

“She’s like the principal of this forest!” Deku said, waving the group back the way they came. “Let’s go, Dekusquad!”

“If you lead us the wrong way again,” Bakugou threatened, “I’ll kill Todoroki.”

“Keep me out of this,” Todoroki scoffed, sending a wave of ice behind him that toppled Bakugou into Kirishima’s arms.

“You alright, Bakugou?” Kirishima asked.

“I’m…fine,” Bakugou stuttered, a light blush on his cheeks.

“Yes you are,” Kirishima replied with a wink.

“Shut it,” Bakugou growled.

Kirishima did as told, if only to focus on the path back home. After passing through the stone door, Kirishima stopped in his tracks. Now that the red phantom was gone, the door was no longer a fog gate. But at some point during their battle, the door had been opened. Who had opened the door? Who had slipped through the chaos like a snake through grass? Kirishima stepped forward, trying to keep up with the group, only to stumble into a far more pressing question.

Who burned all the trees?

Todoroki had encased the trees in ice, something that would melt and set the creatures free in due time. Now, the woods were ripe with the smell of smoke. One tree hung limp off the edge of the cliff. Another tree curled up in the grass, as if sleeping. But the grass was scorched black. Kirishima stood over the tree, the bark still smoldering a bloody red. The embers were warm enough to feel just by standing over the creature. Then again, maybe it was Kirishima’s anger making his skin burn. Thanks to Todoroki, the trees had been rendered as harmless as the grass under their feet. Whoever had killed these creatures had done so out of spite.

“Hey.” Bakugou rested a hand on Kirishima’s. “We should get going.”

“Who did this?” Kirishima asked.

“A villain,” Bakugou said matter of factly. “As soon as we sniff out the shithead, we’ll kick their ass to hell and back. Alright?”

Kirishima tightened his grip. “When we find them, I won’t hesitate.”

“I know you won’t.” Bakugou moved onward, tugging Kirishima along. “C’mon. We’re gonna lose shitty and shittier.”

Kirishima fell into step. With each step, the song of crickets faded into the distance. And the smell of smoke faded into nothing more than a memory.