Kirishima and Bakugo came down from the mountain, grabbed lunch, and spent some time idling before calling Midoriya over.
By the time training was over, Midoriya had finished washing up—his hair was still damp.
"You heard we're eating at their place tonight, right?"
"Yeah. It's been a while since I went to Kacchan's house."
"Tch. So why the hell did you even come out here?"
"Huh? You and Kirishima called me, didn't you?"
"I know, I know! I'm asking why you came!"
Bakugo glared as if he had summoned Midoriya only to be annoyed by his answer. If this had been ten years ago, Midoriya would have shrunk away in embarrassment, but having grown stronger over the years, he replied with an unruffled tone.
"Kacchan, are we really in a situation where it's fine to call me a pig, but absolutely not okay to do it in return?"
"What are you talking about, you damn Deku! Are you trying to call me a pig in some roundabout way?"
"No way. Kacchan isn't a pig. Though I suppose he might be compared to a dog."
Though he murmured the last part softly, Bakugo caught the insinuation and bristled.
"You damn Deku bastard! Do you seriously think that just because you got a Quirk, you suddenly can’t see who's boss? Want to settle who's on top?"
"Shut up. This is a residential area—keep it down. And besides, what's the point of ranking friends?"
Kirishima clapped Bakugo on the shoulder to calm him down, just as his fury seemed about to boil over.
It may have looked like a light tap, but Bakugo felt a dull shock ripple through him.
"Why is it only me getting hit? You damn beanpole!"
"I didn't hit you. Had I done so, your shoulder would have been ripped clean off by now, drilling into the floor."
"If someone gets hurt by a hit, then it's justified, right? You used to say that when we were kids. Don't you remember?"
"Ah, right. I guess I forgot. I didn't know your shoulder was so delicate."
"Kirishima, that's not the point..."
Bakugo seethed with irritation, but he held his tongue. There was no need to drag the conversation on.
After Midoriya echoed no in protest, Kirishima smoothly steered the topic elsewhere.
"Whether Bakugo's shoulder is like a girl's or not doesn't really matter. We came here to eat—your mom must be waiting. Let's get going."
"Right? Let's hurry up. It's been a while since I've seen Kacchan's mom, too—almost a month, I think. Ever since that last time we ran into each other downtown."
"Huh? You've been seeing my mom lately?"
"I ran into her by chance on my way back from the city after picking up All Might's new photo book."
"Oh. Is that so?"
Bakugo tensed at the mention of a separate meeting, but relaxed when he realized it was merely a coincidence.
Noticing Bakugo's obvious reaction, Kirishima laughed. "Alright, you may be a rude kid who calls his own mom an old lady, but deep down you love her too much, Bakugo. If you don't get home soon, she'll be disappointed. Let's go."
"What are you even saying!"
"Haha. Sometimes your feelings show too clearly, Kacchan."
Midoriya and Kirishima ribbed Bakugo as they walked toward his house. In truth, contrary to Kirishima's exaggeration, their homes were nearby, so it didn't take long to reach.
Upon entering Bakugo's house, they found his father already home.
"Oh? Hello there. Wow, it's been a long time. Have you been well, sir?"
"Ah, Kirishima. Mitsuki mentioned you'd grown a lot. The last time you visited, you were just a bit taller than me—and now, I have to look up to you completely. As for me, I'm still the same."
"Haha. Looks like I've grown a bit, haven't I? The hospital said my growth plates haven't closed yet, so I might get even taller."
"Even taller? Will you end up as tall as All Might someday?"
"Hmm. Being as tall as All Might would be nice, but I'll be satisfied at two meters. Not that I'm unhappy with where I am now."
"Beanpole, if you keep saying that, what does that make Deku and me? We're not even 180 centimeters..."
"Exactly. It just makes you feel inferior, doesn't it?"
"No, I'm just stating facts. But if feelings of inferiority come up, doesn't that mean you've always been dissatisfied with your own height?"
"I'm not dissatisfied, but compared to you, I sure do look short."
"Hmm. Is that so? I don't really think I'm that big."
Having been born and raised in America in a previous life, Kirishima never regarded his current height of just over 190 centimeters as particularly extraordinary. Even in America, 190 centimeters was tall—nothing overwhelmingly so, especially among white or black folks.
"Midoriya, it's been a while for you too. Not as long as it has for you, Kirishima, but it's been ages since you've visited our place, hasn't it?"
"Yeah. It really has. Kacchan's been acting sensitive lately, so he hasn't invited me over much."
"Huh? What did you say?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Oh? Izuku's here? You two still get along, huh?"
While Bakugo's father exchanged greetings with Midoriya, Bakugo's mother emerged from the kitchen.
Bakugo made a face of pure disbelief at her comment.
"Mom, you think this is what getting along looks like?"
"With your personality, isn't this as good as it gets? The other kids seem more like underlings than friends."
"Hmm..."
Her honest remark struck a nerve, and Bakugo grumbled, though secretly he wondered if she might be right. Still, he quickly countered aloud, "No way! There's no way I'm on good terms with these guys!"
"Then what is it?"
"This beanpole is an enemy I'll crush soon, and that doormat has already been crushed."
"First of all, I'm not your enemy, you idiot. Do you really have nothing but enemies?"
Kirishima ruffled Bakugo's hair in a playful scold for spouting nonsense.
Bakugo grumbled in protest, but there was little he could do against Kirishima's strength.
Midoriya watched the two with a goofy smile.
"You all must be hungry. Wait in the living room a bit—I've set the table, and most of the food is ready. I just need to bring out the karaage I've been making."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And could someone get the drinks?"
"Sure thing."
Kirishima led the kids to the living room.
The table was already laden with a variety of dishes.
After a few minutes of chatting with the children, Bakugo's parents entered carrying a plate piled high with karaage.
Everyone began eating. The food was delicious, and the company was even better. Although Bakugo still maintained his prickly demeanor and Midoriya had developed an impish air compared to his earlier, more awkward self, both seemed much more at ease than during their first meeting.
Bakugo's mother continued to lead the conversation with her boisterous energy, while his father contributed shyly.
Old memories surfaced—stories of their first meeting, how much Bakugo had mellowed over time, tales of Midoriya's Quirk, and even Kirishima's achievements—all blossoming over a dining table bathed in the harsh white glow of a fluorescent light.
Before long, the pleasant time had flown by, and after finishing their meal, Kirishima and Midoriya found themselves standing at the front door.
"Thanks for the fantastic meal. We'll be on our way now. Stay healthy until next time. Katsuki, even if I don't say it, you'll be fine—but let me say it anyway. Take care."
"If you're gonna say goodbye that way, then just leave it unsaid."
"Come on. You can't just skip a proper farewell."
"I ate well, too. Next time I'll visit sooner. And Kacchan, you should come to our place sometime."
"Why the hell would I ever go to your house?"
"Aw, come on. You'd come if we invited you, so don't be such a deadbeat."
"Kyaaah! I'm not going! I'm not going!"
"Why do you always flat-out say you're not coming? At times like this, you're supposed to say you'll drop by if you get the chance."
"Honey, that sounds like you're just dancing around a refusal..."
"Exactly. There's no way this kid would nonchalantly go over to Izuku's place. Their relationship is so weird—I can never tell if they're close or if they despise each other."
"What are you even saying! It's obvious we don't get along!"
"Quiet, son."
"Haha. Alright, we're really off now. Take care, both of you. Katsuki, you too."
"Goodbye. Take care, Kacchan."
"Yeah. And you too, Izuku and Eijiro. Eijiro, you should visit more often. You used to come by at least once a month, but lately you've been pretty scarce."
"I've been a bit busy lately—I still have next year's entrance exams to prepare for. But I'll visit as often as I can."
After exchanging their farewells with the Bakugo family, Midoriya and Kirishima headed home.
The scorching heat of the day had long since faded, replaced by the cool caress of a night breeze along the road.
The two walked side by side under the starlight.
Midoriya glanced at Kirishima and spoke softly, "Kirishima."
"Yeah?"
"Come to think of it, isn't this the hundredth time I've been to Kacchan's place?"
"Huh? A hundred times? That many? Or is that even a lot? More importantly, how do you even keep count?"
"Puhaha. There’s no way it’s really been a hundred times. Who even counts things like that? You actually believe me?"
Watching Midoriya burst into laughter, Kirishima wondered if he’d somehow ended up raising a tiger. Now it seemed Midoriya was turning the tables on him.
As Kirishima considered how to respond, Midoriya continued, "You know, when I was little I actually really hated Kacchan—before I met you, anyway."
"Well, honestly, who could like him? Even now, he's far from a nice guy, and back then he was an absolute jerk. Not some Stockholm syndrome case—of course you hated him."
"Yeah. Back then he looked down on everyone because he had a great Quirk, and he even hit people. When we were little, we used to play together just fine, but even then he'd get angry for no reason sometimes. I suppose he had his reasons?"
"There's no tombstone without an inscription, so of course he had his reasons—the question is whether they made any sense."
"But what hurt more than his actions was how I felt about myself. I was Quirkless, and I always felt like I was missing something, like I was being treated unfairly. I wanted to shout about it but couldn’t."
"I see."
"Yeah. I remember once, Mom hugged me, crying and apologizing for giving birth to a Quirkless kid. I felt like I was already done for, and seeing her like that just made me even angrier and more upset. But what I really wanted to hear wasn't an apology—it was someone saying, 'You can do this.' You know how kids are; no matter what the world says, if Mom and Dad believe in you, you'll believe it too. I wanted those words, but I never got them."
"Your mom must have been hurting too. Don't be too hard on her."
"Yeah. I know it's all in the past now. I've come to understand the feelings behind her words."
"Right."
Choosing to listen rather than argue, Kirishima offered a brief reply. "Anyway, the funny thing is that until just a little while ago, we were kids who played together. But once I became Quirkless, things changed. It was like an invisible hierarchy formed instantly—Kacchan with his amazing Quirk, the ordinary kids, and then me, the Quirkless one. What really gets to me now is that I went along with that order without even realizing it."
"Really? I remember you being pretty timid when we first met."
"Yeah. Before I knew it, I started believing that because I was Quirkless, I couldn't do anything right. I lost my confidence, I couldn't speak up for myself. And in the middle of it all, Kacchan, who'd always been my childhood friend, acted like he was the leader among us. I envied him, I was jealous, and I was mad at him for pushing me around."
"That's complicated."
"Not simple at all. The strangest part is—I ended up admiring Kacchan. Not his personality, but his Quirk, the way he carried himself."
"You're not telling me that's Stockholm syndrome, are you? Tch."
"No, not that at all. Anyway, as I was growing more fragile emotionally, then I met you, Kirishima."
"That was when you were five, right?"
"Yeah. Back when neither Mom nor Kacchan's mom realized how strained things had become between us. Kacchan never openly picked on me in front of our parents, so we even went on that trip together—and that's when I met you. You have no idea how shocked I was when you beat him!"
"If I'd known that, I'd be working as a fortune teller by now."
"And when you told me that even someone Quirkless like me could do something great, I was overjoyed. It was simply shocking."
"Why are you saying all this embarrassing stuff?"
"I'm just telling it like it was. But now I don't hate Kacchan or envy him anymore. I've stopped idolizing him. Looking back, I guess I was drowning in inferiority."
"Well, that happens."
"But it's gone now. So many people helped me along the way—All Might, and you too, Kirishima."
Kirishima secretly found it a bit ridiculous that All Might had become so important to Midoriya, despite having practically raised him for ten years, but he let it go.
If there were a cult that worshipped All Might as a god, Midoriya would easily be one of its cardinals.
Placing a hand on Midoriya's head, Kirishima said calmly, "Growth doesn't come just because people around you help. No matter how much they try, if there's no room in you, you can't accept it. You just grew up a lot on your own."
"Yeah."
Midoriya had more he wanted to say, but he held his tongue. Though everyone's aware that All Might was his mentor, thanks to Kirishima's thoughtfulness he hadn't mentioned One For All.
Midoriya had received something precious from All Might—a legacy not just of a Quirk, but a will toward justice—and he had to become someone worthy of it.
He had always dreamed of being a great hero like All Might, but now he couldn't settle for mediocrity.
He needed to aspire to become a hero equal to, or even surpassing, All Might.
He believed that was the best way to repay the trust All Might had placed in him, and the unwavering faith Kirishima had shown from their very first meeting.
"So, what I'm trying to say is just... thank you."
"You're such a plain guy. If you're grateful, show it through your actions later—don’t just say it."
"Yeah."
As Midoriya smiled softly at Kirishima's gentle grin, he clenched his fist and made a silent vow.
He would become the very best.
Kirishima grinned at that sight. There was no need for any further encouragement.
Midoriya had grown enough to face the future on his own terms.
All Kirishima really wanted was for him to keep growing and become a true rival—after all, sitting alone on the throne is a lonely place to be.
The two, each with their own dreams, walked onward as starlight poured down, illuminating their path.
It was a quiet night, yet one filled with fierce determination.
Comments (0)
Please log in to leave a comment. Login or Register