The evening at Midoriya’s house was warm and comfortable.
The three of them spent the time chatting casually. Although most of the conversation revolved around Midoriya, Kirishima’s stories occasionally came up as well.
One of the two days they would spend in Mustafu ended quietly like that.
The next day, Kirishima left the house to meet Bakugo.
"I'm heading out. Midoriya, keep up your training," he called out.
"Have a good trip. Text me if you're running late," came the reply.
"I wish I could come along too," Kirishima admitted.
"You need to train. Don’t even think about skipping it. You said you usually train in the morning, didn’t you?"
"Yeah. Usually."
"Then train hard. Remember, out of Bakugo, Mina, you, and me, you're the weakest," the teasing continued.
"I know that without you even mentioning it," he retorted.
With that, Kirishima finished his remarks and left without a second thought.
Bakugo’s house wasn’t far off. After a short walk through the crisp morning air, a large, stylish house soon came into view.
When he rang the bell, a familiar voice answered.
"Who is it?"
"It's Kirishima. I'm here for our appointment today, ma'am."
"Oh, it’s Eijiro. I’ve been waiting for you. I’ll open the door right away," the voice said warmly.
As the door unlocked, Kirishima stepped inside. Carefully removing his shoes and walking into the living room, he was greeted by a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Bakugo.
"Wow. Eijiro, you’ve really grown! Katsuki mentioned it, but seeing you in person makes it all the more real," she exclaimed.
"Haha. Hello. Yes, I’ve grown a lot. Even now, I’m still getting taller," Eijiro replied with a shy smile.
"Our Katsuki isn’t exactly short, but compared to you, he doesn’t stand a chance," she teased.
"What are you talking about? What does height even matter?"
"Besides height, what else can you beat him in?"
Bakugo, irritated by the teasing, bristled at Kirishima’s cutting remark as it hit a sore spot.
It was no secret that Bakugo wasn’t much good at a fair fight either.
"Tch," Bakugo grumbled.
"Turning your head? You really are clueless sometimes," Kirishima said lightly.
"So Eijiro is still Katsuki’s natural rival, huh?"
Bakugo's mother laughed heartily at the exchange. From their boisterous first encounter until now, she had always supported Kirishima.
Her influence had helped Kirishima keep Bakugo in line, even if it meant occasionally putting him in his place.
"It's just that this kid judges everyone by strength. And with parents as good as yours, ma'am, he’d probably be a lot more of a hothead otherwise," Kirishima explained.
"I did nothing! It was all Eijiro's doing," Bakugo scoffed.
"Oh, come on. What could I possibly do when I barely see him? It’s your parents who are always there for him," she continued cheerfully.
"How can you say that right in front of me?" Bakugo retorted.
"Well, without your parents, you might have turned out to be a real punk," she teased.
Kirishima almost called him a villain, but he held back in respect of Bakugo’s mother. Even if Bakugo could be as wild as a rampaging colt, it wouldn’t do to suggest he’d end up a criminal.
Although his words walked a fine line, she just laughed it off as she always did. In truth, Kirishima had spent enough time around them to know that they wouldn’t mind at all.
"Katsuki does have a bit of a rough edge. And it’s true—before meeting you, he used to think he was the best in the world," Kirishima remarked.
"I never did that, you old bat!" Bakugo snapped, his cheeks flushing.
"Come on, watch your tongue with your own mother. What kind of manners is that when speaking to such a wonderful woman?"
With a playful swing, Kirishima patted Bakugo’s head.
"You really don't know how lucky you are," he mused. "If you ever met parents as good as mine were in my previous life, you’d understand just how special your upbringing is."
"That’s why I didn’t want to bring you here in the first place. The moment you two meet, trouble always follows, and then I'm the one who gets the blame!" Bakugo complained.
"That's because you make scolding so easy, little Katsuki," Kirishima teased.
"This is exactly why I find you so entertaining. In fact, sometimes I feel like you should just move in with us," she added with a laugh.
Watching Bakugo’s mother beam with genuine delight, Kirishima couldn’t help but marvel at how strange this world was—how someone like Bakugo could come from such a normal, sensible family, despite judging people solely by strength—a mindset that belonged in another era entirely.
"Since you’re here, you should have something to drink. How about the usual green tea?" she offered.
"Yes, green tea sounds great," Eijiro agreed.
"And Katsuki will have Pepsi Fire," she added.
"Yeah," Bakugo grunted.
Kirishima stared at Bakugo in disbelief. The cinnamon-flavored cola released last year had somehow become a cult favorite as a spicy drink. He knew Bakugo liked spicy foods, but he hadn’t expected him to enjoy a spicy soda as well.
Though Kirishima himself appreciated a bit of heat—perhaps a remnant of his Korean heritage—he couldn’t quite understand Bakugo’s bizarre taste.
"You really drink that stuff?" Kirishima asked, incredulous.
"What? You got a problem with it? It’s delicious," Bakugo shot back.
"No, it’s not that I’m telling you what to drink, it's just..."
Bakugo bristled at the sympathetic look in Kirishima’s eyes, but he bit his tongue. With ten years of experience under his belt, he knew all too well that arguing with Kirishima almost always ended in his own defeat.
Just then, Bakugo’s mother brought out snacks and tea.
"Here. It’s not much, but enjoy," she said warmly.
"Uh, if this isn’t much, then it sure is a lot!" Bakugo grumbled.
Kirishima broke into a cold sweat at the sight of the table laden with an array of snacks, some of which were too expensive to grab on a whim.
"Haha. When Eijiro is around, this is the bare minimum," she laughed.
"Ah, yes. I’ll happily enjoy it," Eijiro replied.
After expressing his thanks, Kirishima took a sip of tea. In his previous life, he had been a coffee drinker, but after reincarnation his palate had shifted toward tea. The deep, rich aroma hit his nostrils, and a pleasantly bitter flavor coated his mouth before sliding smoothly down his throat. It was clear—this was high-grade tea.
"It’s delicious," he said appreciatively.
"Really? I’m glad it suits you, Eijiro. I'm the only one in this house who drinks tea, so it’s been a while since I had someone to share it with," she teased.
"I see. Katsuki, you should try tea with your mom sometime," Eijiro remarked.
"Mind your own business," Bakugo retorted.
"I'm always on my best behavior with my mother," he added defensively.
As Bakugo tried to chime in, Kirishima easily cut him off and settled in to enjoy the snacks and tea. Conversation flowed easily, and soon the topic of Bakugo’s antics became the center of attention. Despite the bubbling anger inside him, Bakugo sipped his spicy cola in silence.
Time flew by as the conversation turned light and cheerful. Eventually, Kirishima set down his empty teacup and spoke up.
"Thank you. That tea was truly excellent."
"Come back anytime, and I'll have more tea ready for you. Besides, having you around seems to keep him a bit in check," Bakugo’s mother replied with a smile.
"Haha. He’s definitely improved compared to before. Speaking of which, I'll head out with Katsuki for a bit. Let’s go, Katsuki," Kirishima said.
"Hmph. Fine," Bakugo grunted.
"What about lunch?" Kirishima asked.
"We’ll probably grab something to eat," Bakugo replied.
"In that case, why not come back here for dinner? It’s been a while since we all ate together—maybe we can even call Izuku," she suggested.
"Oh, then I'll be back this evening. It’ll be nice to have your cooking again, ma'am," Eijiro agreed.
"Alright, I'll look forward to it. I’ll prepare something delicious, so you must come, okay?"
"Yes. Don’t worry," came the reply.
After a brief exchange, Bakugo quickly gathered his things. The two of them then left the house and headed toward a nearby mountain.
This was the spot where Kirishima often watched Midoriya and Bakugo train whenever he came to Mustafu. The mountain was seldom frequented, and a perfect clearing midway made it an ideal training ground.
Soon, they arrived at the training area. Kirishima glanced over at Bakugo and said,
"First, let's run through your training routine."
"Fine," Bakugo replied.
After a proper warm-up and some stretching, Bakugo was ready to start. Kirishima handed him a training program that combined accessible exercises—burpees, squats, pull-ups, and push-ups—with more challenging moves like frog jumps and stand-up jumps. Although it might have seemed simple, the routine proved to be brutally demanding once underway.
Bakugo’s breathing grew rough and a light sweat broke out on his brow, yet he completed the set without appearing overly strained. Kirishima clapped appreciatively.
"Good. You really gave it your all."
"Of course. Just don’t regret helping me train when I finally beat you," Bakugo shot back.
"Hmm. That won’t happen," Kirishima replied with quiet confidence.
Bakugo bristled at Kirishima’s nonchalant attitude, though he kept his retort to himself. Deep down, he knew he wasn’t yet confident enough to defeat that monstrously talented peer. Perhaps if he made better use of his Quirk, Explosion, he might stand a chance. Still, there was no way he could risk a full-on explosive bout in such a public spot without causing a scene.
"By the way, you only showed Midoriya, didn’t you?" Bakugo suddenly inquired.
"Why cut the story short? What exactly did you show Deku?"
"Yesterday, while watching Midoriya train, I gave him the best display of my abilities that I can currently muster," Kirishima explained.
"Hah?"
Bakugo frowned at the remark. Although it was probably nothing significant, he couldn’t shake the irritation at Midoriya being mentioned first. Honestly, it bugged him.
Yet, somewhere deep inside, a small spark of excitement flickered—an odd anticipation of witnessing that same peak performance from himself. He wondered what kind of display the boy, who had never once been beaten since childhood—the very one who shattered his pride of invincibility—would put on.
Part of him even entertained the thought that if the performance fell short, it might be disappointing, but that idea quickly evaporated. After all, it wasn’t like Deku would ever turn villainous.
"If I don't show you, you'll throw a fit, so I might as well demonstrate it. Mina knew from the start, and Midoriya found out yesterday—you're my friend, after all. You shouldn't be left out," Kirishima urged.
"What nonsense are you spouting? Either show it or get it over with!" Bakugo snapped.
"Always so quick to anger. Fine, I'll show you," Kirishima conceded.
With that, Kirishima assumed his stance and began shadowboxing. His rapid strikes split the air, and his nimble footwork seemed to sketch dynamic patterns on the ground. Each blow, breaking the sound barrier, tore through the quiet with a low, resonant rumble that echoed across the clearing.
Bakugo let out a quiet groan as he observed movements that should have been fluid but instead appeared disjointed at moments. He already knew that his colossal peer was absurdly strong for his age, yet what he witnessed was nothing short of shocking.
"Is this kid insane or what?" Bakugo muttered under his breath.
It wasn’t unheard of to see such displays—after all, fighters like Edge Shot or Mirko could exhibit similar prowess. But that was precisely the issue. These were seasoned warriors, older and far more experienced, who had cemented their legacies through countless battles.
So why was this fifteen-year-old—someone Bakugo had known since they were five—displaying skills that rivaled those legends? How was it even possible?
Once again, Bakugo felt the weight of the world's injustice.
At that moment, Kirishima halted and turned to him.
"So, how was it?"
"Hey," Bakugo grumbled.
"Yeah? What is it?"
"Hmph. You, you bastard..."
Bakugo was lost for words. What could he possibly say to someone who had just delivered such an overwhelming display, while looking at him as if nothing were amiss?
A fleeting thought crossed his mind—that perhaps he would never beat this guy in his entire life. A crushing sense of defeat weighed on his shoulders as anger welled up within him, directed both at himself for feeling vulnerable and at the peer who had made him question his invincibility.
He ground his teeth. For the first time in his life, Bakugo felt a loss of confidence—and that was a far more bitter pill to swallow than he had imagined. It even made him wonder if this was how Deku had felt in his childhood.
A tense silence fell between Bakugo, glaring at Kirishima, and Kirishima, calmly returning his look. Only the cool mountain breeze, playfully stirring the leaves, flowed between them.
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