"But to you?” Kaminari asks, face dropping with concern. “He /must/ have been drunk.”

“It’s fine. He said his piece, you know?” Eijirou turns to Kaminari, who nods. “I hope he’s better off, you know? Like, I’d rather he be happy than feel pressured to get back together."

Kaminari considers this for a moment; Eijirou doesn’t blame him. It’s late and there’s a lot to talk about, to think about. “Well, that - it doesn’t make it hurt less, you know?”

“Yeah,” Eijirou agrees, “it doesn’t.”

“But don’t forget - I don’t know what he said, dude, but he wasn’t sober,”

“He seemed pretty serious.”

“Right,” Kaminari says slowly, “but maybe we should just sleep on it? Give it time. He’s coming for dinner next week, you could talk then?”

“Maybe,” Eijirou yawns. “I do want to sleep, though, it’s late and I’m shattered.” Kaminari gives him an understanding nod.

“Yeah, let’s hit the hay. Maybe you can talk to Mina about it?”

“Maybe,” Eijirou says quietly, really just hoping to /stop/ talking about it. He’d rather fall asleep and forget about it. Maybe he’ll wake up and it’ll be a bad dream, and everything will be okay. He can go back to being convinced that no feelings faded and that Bakugou +

would come back one day and they’d click like magic; like they should. Like they always used to.

Katsuki hates asking for help. He hates it because it makes him feel weak, incapable and pathetic. But Katsuki has always sucked at feelings. With Kirishima, years ago, it had been different; everything had come easy and he’d felt /good/.

But when he wakes up this morning with his face pressed uncomfortably into his pillow, still wearing his coat and clothes from the night before, he begrudgingly decides that he might need just a little bit of help. He’s fucked himself over. He hurt Kirishima.

If there’s one thing Katsuki remembers crystal clear from last night, it’s the pure hurt and almost /hatred/ that had pooled in Kirishima’s eyes.

Katsuki gets dressed and heads downstairs for breakfast - which he’s almost missed, he hadn’t realised how late in the morning it is. He eats quickly and goes straight back to his room, pulling out his computer.

He doesn’t have many names in his contacts to search through as he finds the one he’s looking for before hitting ‘call’.

It doesn’t ring for long before the call is answered.

“What’s up, babes? I didn’t expect you to be calling so soon. Missing me already?”

“This was a mistake,” Katsuki says, moving to close his laptop.