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Labyrinth

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Moving out of home is a very important step in life. Being able to savour that freedom and finally be independent is something everyone must experience, even if it’s for a week, or for the rest of your life. 

U.A students weren’t literally living on their own, or paying their own bills, but it was kind of the same. Besides, living with your classmates or friends can be even better than being completely alone. 

 

Everyday something new would happen, maybe a new gossip, a fight, or just something funny, but everyday was a new story for them. The gossiping was mostly related to who was into who, since hormones and a building filled with teenagers was the perfect combination for that. For the past three and a half weeks, most of the rumours are about Izuku and Uraraka, but those became common between everyone. Everytime the had breakfast together, or did anything together, the eyes of their classmates would be on them. But there was one gossip that was there, lurking in the dark, but everyone ignored because they thought it was impossible.

 

Almost a week ago, Bakugou and Kirishima stopped hanging out. They would usually avoid each other in the common areas and in school. Everybody noticed it since they went from inseparable to total strangers. Their classmates all had their theories, but none of them were certain of what had happened.

 

“Maybe Kirishima just got fed up of Bakugou’s hostility,” Mina suggested, in a half whisper tone. 

 

Talking about this delicate subject while in the common area, maybe wasn’t the best idea, but they ignored it.

 

“I don’t think so,” Tsuyu responded, placing her index finger on her chin thinking of a better theory, “Maybe Bakugou isn’t made to have friends,”

 

“Nah,” Kaminari chimed in, “I’m sure there’s something else,” 

 

Jiro rolled her eyes, “What is it then, genius?” 

 

“Well, I think--,” Kaminari’s theory was interrupted by Yaoyoruzu’s hush when she noticed Kirishima walking to the kitchen.

 

Acting was not their forte. They faked a really lame conversation on climate while Kirishima prepared his bowl of cereal. They would occasionally look at him, but quickly turn their eyes back.

 

Kirishima grabbed his bowl of cereal, shot a glare at them, as if he was telling them that he knew what they were talking about, and then walked back to his room.

He locked the door behind him and then placed his cereal next to his bed. He stared at the night sky for a moment, replaying the scene in his head. Bakugou had an issue with feelings, and that was a fact. But, ghosting him after everything they’ve been though was far from cool.

 

Before he could replay the scene one more time, he remembered his cereal. He walked towards it and stared, it was all soggy now. Cereal is good, but not when it’s all soggy, it must be a little bit crunchy still for it to taste good, but now it was, not good, just like his relationship with Bakugou. Why? Why does everything has to remind him of that? Kirishima took a deep breath, and ate the cereal anyways.

 

His empty bowl of cereal ended in a pile with the rest of the dishes he had in his room and forgot to wash. He was laying in his bed, trying to read the magazine on his hands, but not actually doing it. How could he? His harsh and manly voice was there, he could hear him yelling at someone in the hallway. Kirishima thought of opening the door, check his reaction and then decide what to do next.

He gulped, unconsciously wrinkling the magazine, he closed it and left it on top of his bed and then walked to the door. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and opened the door with one movement.

 

There he was, staring at the open door, but mostly at the man with spiky red hair that emerged from it. Mineta took this as his chance and ran away from Bakugou. 

 

Perhaps the staring wasn’t that long, but they felt it was years. Kirishima slightly opened his mouth, ready to spit the words. Bakugou noticed it, and left without hearing anything that Kirishima had to say.

 

Bakugou walked to his room quicker than he would. His breathing got heavier and his eyes were filled with tears. He closed the door with one loud slap, and then leaned against it. Finally, he was able to let the tears flow. 

He wasn’t the kind of guy who would cry over feelings, but something about this incident forced him to do so. If it wasn’t for his low self control, none of this would’ve happened.