Bakugo Katsuki was momentarily thrown off when a little girl suddenly appeared and started yelling at him.
But that surprise quickly faded. Narrowing his eyes, he shouted, "Hah? So what if I mess with that Deku brat? What business is it of yours, you black-eyed freak!"
"You really can’t pick on someone weaker than you! Didn’t your dumb, ignorant blond head learn even the basics?"
"Oh, so you’ve got a problem with that? You want to fight?"
Kirishima left the two shouting and made his way over to a visibly rattled Midoriya.
"You okay? You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?"
"Uh... I—I’m fine. But I think you should stop him. He might end up getting seriously hurt if this goes on,"
"Come on, it’s only for a little while. Besides, I heard your name mentioned—you're Quirkless, right?"
"Y-yeah..."
Midoriya replied, his features drawn small with insecurity.
Everyone who learned Midoriya was Quirkless reacted with either pity or contempt—or sometimes both.
It was a sickening truth, but no one did anything about it. That was just the way things were; it was acceptable to treat someone without a Quirk that way.
The older boy now addressing him was unlikely to be any different from everyone else.
"Hmm. So this is the so-called protagonist of this world. Is this really how things are meant to be?"
Watching Midoriya, who looked even more fragile than expected, Kirishima couldn’t help but worry about the state of the world—a world where the mere trembling of a kid fighting meant a hero.
Protagonists weren’t born superhuman, of course, but still… this was a bit too much.
"Well, at least he does have a strong sense of justice," Kirishima mused, recalling a manga he’d read long ago as his eyes shifted from Midoriya to the two still squabbling.
No matter how he first felt about Midoriya, the situation needed to be sorted out.
He hadn’t planned on intervening, but with Ashido already stepping in, Kirishima realized he wasn’t exactly an outsider anymore.
Quickly, he laid a steady hand on the shoulders of both Ashido—who looked as if she might throw a punch at any moment—and Bakugo, whose temperament crackled with tiny explosive sparks.
"All right, I know you’re both full of energy, but they’ve got their reasons. Let’s keep it down a notch. And hey, blondie, you too—you're old enough to know you shouldn’t use your Quirk to threaten people, right?"
"But Kirishima! You saw what he was doing!"
"What the hell are you doing, bastard!"
Ashido’s anger was so fierce that she called him by his surname rather than his nickname.
Bakugo, not to be outdone, tried to wrench Kirishima’s arm away and swung wildly at his face.
Seeing Bakugo’s hand streaking toward his face, Kirishima offered a crooked smile.
"Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve felt this raw hostility. A twisted kind of anger sure is entertaining."
Back when he ruled kindergarten by might alone, Kirishima had been untouchable. Now, watching Bakugo bare his teeth in defiance after all this time, he couldn’t help but find it amusing.
In his current life, after reincarnation, his peers didn’t see him as an enemy. Unlike his past life—when he was hounded by society—he now lived as a good kid under his parents’ care.
That peaceful existence hadn’t been all that bad. In fact, it hadn’t been bad at all.
The air was thick with antagonism, heavy and damp as tension rooted itself around their feet.
Only now, feeling Bakugo’s pure yet petty hostility, did Kirishima realize he actually missed that rush—the cold shiver of fear and adrenaline that used to make his blood run cold.
Granted, there was no real danger—Bakugo was just a civilian kid barely over a hundred centimeters tall who’d never experienced proper training.
With a quick, practiced sway, Kirishima dodged Bakugo’s outstretched hand and maintained an effortlessly cool expression.
"So, is this your way of asking for a fight, kid?"
"Hah! Can't you tell? You tall bastard!"
"Yeah. I might not know everything, but one thing’s clear: you’d make a damn fine villain."
"Shut up and die!"
Though the original story praised his combat sense, in that moment Bakugo was still just a kid who hadn’t learned his lesson yet.
As Kirishima nimbly evaded Bakugo’s wild swings, he wondered how best to put this cheeky little brat in his place.
After all, if you counted his previous life, he was already thirty—and honestly, it felt wrong to seriously beat up a child at that age.
Besides, these kids were likely here with their parents; hitting too hard would only invite trouble later.
Without even raising his guard, Kirishima dodged and parried Bakugo’s attacks with light, bouncing steps before circumnavigating to his right in a flash.
For an ordinary person, watching a seasoned boxer’s circular maneuvers for the first time might seem like the opponent suddenly vanished.
Bakugo only realized Kirishima was on his flank after hearing a low, firm voice from that direction.
"Kid, if you’re going to hit someone, you’ve got to be ready to take a hit yourself."
As Bakugo turned, Kirishima’s fist dominated his field of vision.
Bakugo’s eyes widened in alarm.
The sudden, searing intuition of an impending blow struck him like lightning.
Reflexively, Bakugo squeezed his eyes shut.
Thwack!
A resounding crack erupted from his forehead.
The intense pain radiating from his brow forced a scream from his lips.
"Kyaaah!"
"If you’re gonna do it, you’d better be ready to take one too,"
Kirishima looked down at Bakugo, who lay sprawled on the ground after that harsh flick to the forehead, and offered his counsel.
He hadn’t expected that this ill-tempered kid would suddenly reform thanks to a few blows.
How wonderful it would be if a few hits could really change a person.
But people don’t change that easily.
You might even reshape someone through relentless violence—but that was less about reform and more about breaking a person down, instilling fear and submission to might.
Kirishima didn’t want to treat a child that way, nor did he believe he should.
So what choice was there?
He could only give a measured blow and act cool about it.
The kids loved it when someone sounded profound, so he could only hope his words would sink in.
"You were probably pampered by everyone because of your flashy, powerful Quirk—as if the world revolved around you. That’s not entirely a bad thing. But kid, if you’re going to live with other people, there are boundaries you must respect."
"Shut up! Don’t act all high and mighty! You shark-toothed bastard!"
Bakugo roared in anger even as he clutched his throbbing head.
It was the first time anyone had talked down to him like that.
Adults had always heap praise on him, and his peers either feared him or scrambled to be his friend. No one had ever looked down on Bakugo—until now.
With a helpless shrug, Kirishima said, "Look, I’m not exactly in a position to be all saintly here. But let me give you one last piece of advice: anyone who crosses that line is a villain. The moment your powerful gift is aimed at an innocent person, you’ve crossed over. There’s no excuse like, ‘We’re pals.’ So think it over, you cheeky little brat."
Without another word, Bakugo staggered to his feet and shifted back into a fighting stance.
In a dry tone, Kirishima observed, "Really? You want to fight again? Why not just stop? You can feel it too—right now, you can’t beat me."
Grinding his teeth in silence, Bakugo then bellowed with rising fury, "Yeah... damn shark-toothed bastard. I lost today... but next time, I’m gonna win! I will win!"
"Do what you want. I don’t think I’ll lose next time either. Let’s go, Mina."
Clearly still steaming, Bakugo muttered a defeated tone before suddenly raising his voice once more.
Kirishima snorted softly, replying coolly as he called out to Ashido.
Ashido immediately grabbed Kirishima’s hand and fell in step behind him.
As Kirishima led the way back to the lodge with Ashido, he noticed Midoriya standing still, almost frozen in place, and called out, "Deku... is that what he calls you?"
"Huh? Ah, n-no. My name is Midoriya Izuku. 'Deku' is just what Katsuki calls me."
"Right. Midoriya, I don’t really know your situation—I only heard you’re Quirkless." (He added quietly.)
"Y-yeah..."
"Anyway, Midoriya, this might sound a bit strange coming from a stranger, but you should be proud of who you are. Your wonderful parents brought you into this world—so you’re valuable just as you are. Whether or not you have a Quirk doesn’t matter at all. A person who can’t value themselves will always be at the mercy of others, society, or circumstance. You don’t want that, do you? So even if change isn’t instant, at least try."
"Uh... I—I don’t really get it, but okay."
"All right then. You were so quiet and withdrawn I ended up meddling in your business. I'm off now. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime."
As Kirishima walked away, he couldn’t help but chide himself for the unnecessary sermon. With the weight of his previous life now mingling with his current years, he was starting to sound like an old fuddy-duddy. He knew all too well that a flick to the forehead or a few harsh words wouldn’t change a person.
Soon after, with Ashido still grumbling about Bakugo, Kirishima reached the lodge—and instantly, he regretted getting involved.
Inside, Ashido’s parents were chatting warmly with a woman who very much looked like the mother of that insolent little brat they’d just met. With her wildly disheveled blond hair hanging in every direction—as if she'd been hit by a bomb—it was impossible to miss her.
"Oh, Eijiro! You’re back? How was it around here?"
"Ah, yes. But who’s this by your side?"
"Oh, this is Bakugo Mitsuki—he came with us to the lodge."
"Hello. I’m Kirishima Eijiro. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bakugo."
"Hello! I'm Ashido Mina!"
The woman, who must be Bakugo’s mother, laughed brightly at their greetings.
"Hi there! You’re both just adorable. And if you came from that way, you must have already met our Katsuki and Midoriya, right? Did you exchange greetings?"
"Yes, we met along the way. He’s quite an interesting kid,"
"We did greet each other—even if it involved a few fists in that rough atmosphere," Kirishima thought to himself.
"Really? Katsuki isn’t usually that entertaining. Though judging by your height, maybe he finally met his match,"
She laughed heartily as she spoke.
Watching her—just as friendly as Ashido’s family—Kirishima couldn’t help but wonder why he always found himself surrounded by such sociable people.
Soon enough, someone mentioned that they’d all be having dinner together.
"Oh, Mina, Kirishima—tonight we’re having dinner with both the Bakugo and Midoriya families. Since the lodge’s outdoor area is set up for a barbecue, it’ll be more fun if we all enjoy it together, don’t you think?"
"That makes sense."
"No, it really doesn’t..."
Before he knew it, Kirishima began to regret the grand advice he’d dished out after the fight, already dreading the embarrassment of it all.
He doubted either Bakugo or Midoriya would run straight to their parents to tattle—Bakugo, too proud, and Midoriya, far too timid.
Yet the mortification of having spoken so awkwardly was hard to shake off.
"Wow! Eijiro, that sounds fun, right?"
"Are you really okay with this...?"
"Come on, that blond kid—Bakugo, was it? He’ll probably mellow out when he’s with his mom. Besides, after a fight, people always end up closer!"
"What kind of shonen manga logic is that? Well, it is a shonen manga after all..."
"No, Mina, that’s..."
"Oh my, did you two actually fight with Katsuki?"
"Ah, yes. Well..."
"So, who won? Katsuki might be fierce, but I doubt he could ever beat Kirishima-chan. You won, didn’t you?"
Hearing Bakugo Mitsuki ask about the outcome with sparkling curiosity sent a cold sweat down Kirishima’s back.
High-spirited people in this world were difficult to handle in every way.
"Well… I did win, yes..."
Kirishima’s usually measured tone trailed off—a rarity that made her laugh as she patted his shoulder.
"If you won, then why the long face? Were you afraid I’d scold you?"
"No, it’s just that you’re her precious son, and I feel sorry for having to lay a hand on him… It was really just a flick to the forehead, nothing major."
"Oh, it’s fine! It’s perfectly alright. Kids grow by fighting, don’t they? Besides, our Katsuki needs to learn what it’s like to lose once in a while."
Bakugo Mitsuki burst into hearty laughter—a sound that, for once, made Kirishima smile at his uncharacteristic acceptance of defeat.
"But you’ll still be friends with our Katsuki, right? You’re not the type to hit him and then run away like a coward, are you?"
"Uh... yes. We’ll be friends, I promise."
"Good! That’s all that matters!"
Relieved by her buoyant assurance, Kirishima eventually met up with the still-sulking Bakugo and the timid Midoriya that evening.
"Damn shark-teeth. Why the hell do I have to eat with you?"
"Ask your mom, not me."
Watching Bakugo growl in a low, begrudging tone from the table where all the kids had gathered, Kirishima sighed.
Beside him, Ashido was teasing Midoriya by puffing his cheeks, while Midoriya—clearly flustered—tried his best to act nonchalant when talking to a girl.
In that chaotic moment, Kirishima felt an unexpected headache coming on, as if he desperately needed to escape.
He was only five years old, yet life already felt overwhelmingly exhausting.
Still, the barbecue was delicious and the view spectacular.
In the end, the kids managed to bond in their own way and played together until bedtime.
Bakugo continued to grumble, but he didn’t storm off on his own.
And so, the first day of their unforgettable summer trip came to a close.
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