He reached out and lifted the frame gently from the shelf to inspect it closer.

Kirishima ran after Bakugou as fast as he could. However, it proved difficult to keep up with Bakugou’s fast pace. He quickly began panting, trying to catch his breath as he ran alongside Bakugou. Suddenly, Bakugou stopped in his tracks.

“The ****, you lookin’ at, shitty hair?! I'm not slowing down!”

Kirishima stopped running along with Bakugou. He tried to catch his breath, but failed miserably. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up. “Sorry, dude. But... what's wrong? Are you feeling sick?” he asked, his voice laced with worry. He knew from experience that when someone's emotions become overwhelming, even though it's just a passing emotion, they tend to be much stronger than it would normally be.

“No, it's not that,” Bakugou replied, sounding annoyed. He turned his gaze toward Kirishima. “Listen, we're not supposed to tell anybody about this,” he said slowly. “Especially not you or anyone else. It's dangerous, trust me.”

Kirishima was confused by Bakugou’s cryptic message. “Uh, alright. If that'what you wanna say, I guess.” Kirishima shrugged. “So... who are you hiding from anyway?” he asked, curious.

“My mom.”

“Your mom...” Kirishima repeated, trying to process what he was being told. “Wait. Is she one of those people that you mentioned earlier? Like... the ones you told me that she had a gun pointed at her face? And you weren't allowed to kill her?”

Bakugou frowned. “What the **** does any of that have to do with anything? She's not my mom. I told you, I don't remember her.”

“I...” Kirishima started to reply, but he couldn't find the right words. Instead, he simply shook his head, still unable to grasp what Bakugou meant by telling him that his mother was dead. It made sense. He shouldn't have been surprised. It's not like Bakugou would have told him if he hadn't known. His parents were strict. They'd never allow him to see any friends or acquaintances, and they wouldn't even let him hang out outside of the house. Even if his father was alive, it was probably hard for him to make contact with Bakugou, considering his past.He was the kind of person that wouldn't want to associate with a guy like him.

“Look, we're here. Let's just head inside,” Bakugou muttered, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. He started walking towards their apartment building before Kirishima had time to respond.

Chapter 9

Kirishima followed behind Bakugou and opened the apartment door for him. As they entered the small room, Kirishima heard a woman yelling from the kitchen, which made him jump slightly. Bakugou chuckled quietly, then turned around and raised his eyebrow. “You alright?”

Kirishima nodded, but he noticed that Bakugou kept glancing over his shoulder.

They headed upstairs into their own apartment, where the blonde dropped his bags off next to the couch before making his way into the bathroom.

Before leaving the apartment, Kirishima glanced around at all of the empty places in the living area. Everything had been left untouched except for some dirty dishes from dinner. The television was off, and the coffee table was completely covered in textbooks, papers, and other various things. On top of the bookshelf sat a framed picture of them and his parents; he used to love going through these pictures whenever his mom would leave him alone with Bakugou during family gatherings.He reached out and lifted the frame gently from the shelf to inspect it closer. It showed a young Bakugou, Kirishima, and his mother, along with an older man whom Kirishima guessed was their father. He remembered the night the picture was taken perfectly. He remembered that it was a warm summer evening, and his mother was wearing shorts and a tank top. It was obvious that she had just come home from work, and the sun was shining brightly above her. Despite the fact that she was smiling, there was a sad expression on her face, which Kirishima recognized as the expression she wore whenever she spoke about Bakugou's dad. In this photo, his eyes were closed, which meant that he was asleep, probably resting from working long days.

Sitting the frame down carefully on the coffee table, Kirishima made his way toward the bedroom, where he hoped that Bakugou might still be awake. The blonde was lying facedown on the bed, surrounded by several pillows, the sheets rumpled messily atop his body. He was breathing softly, deeply asleep.

As quietly as he possibly could, Kirishima removed the blanket from Bakugou's legs, then slid underneath it. As soon as he did so, the blonde stirred, rolling over onto his side. His eyelids slowly cracked open.He reached out and lifted the frame gently from the shelf to inspect it closer. It showed a young Bakugou, Kirishima, and his mother, along with an older man whom Kirishima guessed was their father. He remembered the night the picture was taken perfectly. He remembered that it was a warm summer evening, and his mother was wearing shorts and a tank top. It was obvious that she had just come home from work, and the sun was shining brightly above her. Despite the fact that she was smiling, there was a sad expression on her face, which Kirishima recognized as the expression she wore whenever she spoke about Bakugou's dad. In this photo, his eyes were closed, which meant that he was asleep, probably resting from working long days.

Sitting the frame down carefully on the coffee table, Kirishima made his way toward the bedroom, where he hoped that Bakugou might still be awake. The blonde was lying facedown on the bed, surrounded by several pillows, the sheets rumpled messily atop his body. He was breathing softly, deeply asleep.

As quietly as he possibly could, Kirishima removed the blanket from Bakugou's legs, then slid underneath it. As soon as he did so, the blonde stirred, rolling over onto his side. His eyelids slowly cracked open.

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