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2am Knows All Secrets

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The first incident happened the Sunday that Class 1-A moved into their new dormitories.

It had been a busy day of getting settled in, saying goodbye to parents, and showing off their rooms. Eijirou treated everyone to Bar-B-Q, and when they returned to the dorms, they stayed up far too late socializing. The idea of living together was just too exciting for Class 1-A, especially after the attacks and scandal involving UA, so a majority of the kids stayed up well past midnight talking about this-and-that. It was exhausting, but no one was ready to go to bed quite yet.

The first-floor common space was honestly the perfect environment for getting used to each other’s casual presence. For the most part, the topic of Bakugou’s rescue was avoided, and everyone just acted like the teenagers they were -- making their own house rules, learning each other’s pet peeves, planning pranks, and just generally figuring out how they were going to live with one another. It was really nice, actually being able to be act their age without having to train or fight for even just a day. And it wasn’t until Yaoyorozu, the class’ voice of reason, pointed out the late hour that most everyone said their 'goodnight's and wandered to their rooms.

That had been a few hours ago. Currently, it was something like 2 in the morning, and Eijirou was lying on his new bed, staring at the ceiling. It was dark, but his eyes had long ago adjusted to the dim moonlight that crept in through the window, so he could barely make out the shapes of his new room. Being in an unfamiliar place with new sights and sounds and smells, after such a busy and thrilling day, sure was making his brain and bones buzz with excitement.

Now, Eijirou was quite the heavy sleeper. He had always been that way — when consciousness finally slipped away, he was like 98% out. His mom always told him that it was because his quirk made him feel safer, so he could sleep sounder. Maybe there was some truth to that. Ever since his quirk manifested, his sleep-walking had stopped. But being a heavy sleeper didn’t mean shit if he couldn’t actually fall asleep in the first place.

He turned this way and that, trying to find a comfortable position. Nothing had worked for him so far. Maybe his room was too warm? He could open the window, but the hot August air probably wasn’t too much better, ohhh man, he should have brought his fan, and the mattress sure was softer than he was used to, and he groaned in frustration because now his brain was churning out thought after thought and that needed to stop.

He brought a hand to his mouth as he stifled a yawn, settling down under his duvet, trying to empty his head of all thoughts, just dream of something, anything, please, God. He was starting to count sheep at this point. He rolled to his side, curling in on himself, slinging one arm over his eyes. Clearing his mind, letting it drift away… After several still minutes, it felt as though maybe sleep was finally coming, when—

There was a loud bang, followed by a yelp.

Eijirou bolted upright, gasping. It felt as though all the air had left his body, and oh god, his heart felt like it just wanted to beat itself out of his chest cavity. His breaths came out in shaky gusts that echoed in his ears along with his stammering heartbeat. Before he even realized he was doing it, his arm was positioned in front of him, quirk activated and ready to defend. His eyes darted this way and that around his room, urgently searching for the source of the commotion.

What… What was that?!?

He was overreacting. Of course he was, because he wasn’t in any danger, at all, obviously. He took deep breaths, willing the nausea in his stomach to go away. His heartbeat finally slowed bit by bit as he came down from his disoriented panic. He canceled his quirk, resting his hands in his lap and regarding them in stunned stillness. It seems that the trauma of being the target of villain attack after villain attack had accumulated into some pretty unfortunate reflexes.

He sighed, willing the dread to fully exit his system before rubbing his eyes and plopping ungracefully back onto the bed. As the gears in his brain slowed, he was finally able to process what he had heard. The sound had come from the neighbor to his right — Bakugou’s room. Which was strange, Bakugou had gone to bed hours before everyone else. Perhaps he had fallen out of bed…?

… And wait, was that unmanly yelp his?

That would have been some good laughing material… except that Eijirou had been literally prepared to fight for his life just a few seconds before, so it kinda lost its charm.

They were a bunch of kids trying to sleep in the same building, and he happened to be neighbors with the most volatile of the bunch. There were bound to be some noise disturbances. As long as whatever the hell that was didn’t happen again, he wouldn’t complain.

It took several more minutes after that, as his body continued to rid his bloodstream of adrenaline. But finally, he fell asleep.


The next day was nearly as busy as the previous one. Class 1-A was busy in school, creating and training their super moves. And perhaps the novelty of living in the same building hadn’t quite worn off yet, for they stayed up far too late again, working on homework and chatting about nothing in particular. All the physical training and socializing was exhausting work that had left Eijirou completely ready for sleep. In a wonderful turn of events, sleep came easily, nearly as soon as his head hit the pillow. He slept soundly, and was almost beginning to dream of heroes and villains.

That is, until he was rudely awoken by a loud boom.

He groaned as he awoke, his heart stuttering. He muttered a “What the hell?” as he reached a hand out blindly for his phone. He winced as the bright screen displayed the time. 2:13. He all but tossed the phone back to his nightstand and reshuffled the blankets.

It was Bakugou again. No doubt about it.

Is he activating his quirk?

… Why the fuck is he activating his quirk?

Something is wrong.

That thought was kind-of out of the blue, and it was probably just him worrying too much. Bakugou could just be training. Or trying out a super move. Or otherwise being an insufferable little shit. (Okay. Eijirou wasn’t usually this salty, he liked to think that the two of them were friends after all, but even he could get grumpy if he was rudely awoken at 2 in the morning.) But all of these possibilities seemed out of character, even for Bakugou. The guy was an asshole sometimes, sure, but not that big of an asshole. He wouldn’t go out of his way just to be rude. Which brought Eijirou back to his previous worry. Maybe something really was wrong.

It made sense, really. Bakugou had been even more insufferable than usual during their classes that day. He had been downright grumpy and ill-tempered. Eijirou couldn’t blame him too much — the kidnapping had shaken up the whole class, so he couldn’t even imagine what effect it had had on the actual victim. But it was honestly his exhaustion that was the most concerning. Maybe he wasn’t really going to sleep early? Or at least, he wasn’t sleeping well. Maybe he just kept falling out of bed? Wait, or maybe his own quirk was waking him up?

And oh dear, now his brain wasn’t stopping. He turned to his side, curling into a loose fetal position, staring at the wall that separated his room and Bakugou’s as if it would give him answers. He sighed. His brain was not going to let him sleep until he got to the bottom of this.

In that moment, the redhead made a decision. Without too much deliberation, he got out of bed and slipped quietly into the corridor, approaching Bakugou’s door, hesitating for only a moment before giving it a slight rap.

“Hey, Bakugou?”

For a few seconds, time was frozen, and ohhh dear, he had probably made a very bad mistake. It was late, he was tired, Bakugou was probably tired, they had classes bright and early, yet here Eijirou was, knocking on Mr. Anger-Management-Issue’s door in the middle of the night as if he needed to borrow a cup of sugar. At any normal time, Eijirou could handle Bakugou perfectly well, but it was far too late for his shit right now. The last thing Class 1-A needed was a tired, pissed-off human bomb causing a scene at 2 in the morning.

After a few seconds of considering where in the building would be the most effective bomb shelter (followed by a few more seconds of his inner voice reminding him how unmanly that was), Eijirou’s thoughts were interrupted by the tell-tale sound of approaching footsteps. Ohhhhh hoh dear, here it comes. He stood up taller, bracing himself for the worst.

The door creaked open several inches, revealing a pair of deep red eyes that stared at him blankly. “What the hell do you want?” came a bite-y but otherwise disinterested mumble.

Eijirou blinked. That was certainly milder than he had been expecting.

“I just heard something coming from your room and wanted to make sure you’re okay?”

The scowl etched onto Bakugou’s face didn’t seem to be directed at him, which was… strange. “I’m fine.” The explosive teen looked off to the side, the slight dusting of pink coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Embarrassment? Now that certainly wasn’t normal.

“You sure, man? If you ever need to talk, I’m here—“

"I said I’m fucking fine, alright?” Seemingly involuntary eruptions like firecrackers danced around Bakugou’s fists that were balled up by his sides. The explosive boy jumped, just a little bit, as if he had startled even himself. The explosions stopped.

“… Okay…” Eijirou blinked again, unfazed by the outburst, which he was used to after all. He was instead taken aback by how red Bakugou’s ears had gotten. Was this what a flustered Bakugou looked like? It was… strangely endearing. And, okay, wow, that definitely was not a normal thought, but he could roll with it.

“Are you going to let me sleep? Or are you just gonna keep standing there like a goddamn idiot?”

“Oh. Right.” Eijirou scratched the nape of his neck, suddenly finding anything that wasn’t Bakugou to be incredibly interesting. “Sorry for bothering you I guess?” He finished lamely.

“Yeah.”

“Anyways. Goodnight.”

Bakugou tch-ed, mumbling a half-assed “G’night” before shutting the door rather firmly in Eijirou’s face.

Well.

Eijirou returned to his room, plopping down onto his bed. That was… not as bad as it could have been. For one thing, he had been expecting more explosions. More cursing, at the very least. But it seemed Bakugou has kept both of those to a minimum. Maybe he just wasn’t in the mood. Maybe he was more docile when he was sleepy? Maybe… whatever he was using his quirk for was a secret or something.

Well, whatever it was, hopefully it wouldn’t become a habit or anything. Since he had brought it up, hopefully Bakugou wouldn’t do it again.


 … It wasn’t that he was annoyed.

Okay, maybe he was a little annoyed, but that was just the lack of sleep talking. Because a certain explosive punk thought it was a good idea to test the flammability of his sheets at 2 in the morning. Every single morning.

But really, Eijirou reminded himself the next night as he lay in bed after a third round of explosions, he wasn’t annoyed. He was concerned more than anything. Like, what if something was wrong? Bakugou was his friend. His bro. And if something was bothering his bro, it bothered him as well. Which brought him to his next problem — now, he was worried all over again. Pretty soon, he was gonna start losing serious sleep over this whole ordeal.

So Eijirou ignored the red sirens that were blaring in his head, and slipped out of bed and into the hallway. His fist hovered an inch or two away from Bakugou’s door. Don’t hesitate now, dammit!

He knocked. “Hey, Bakugou?”

This time, there was a groan of frustration, followed by a few quick footsteps, and then the door was suddenly open. Eijirou’s eyes widened as Bakugou stepped into view. His eyebrows were scrunched over his very red, very angry eyes, his jaw set, his posture rigid. This time, he looked pissed.

“What the fuck could you possibly want now?”

Gotta play it cool. Eijirou’s deer-in-headlights expression morphed into a playful smirk. “Three nights. In a row. Should I be concerned?”

“No. Leave. I was trying to sleep.”

“And failing, by the sound of it.”

“Shut up. You’re one to talk, keeping me up.”

“Hey. Last I checked, I don’t make explosions. That’s all on you, buddy.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fine! Fine,” Eijirou held up his hands in surrender. “Whatever! But if it happens again, I’ll be back.”

“No the fuck you won’t be.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

“Whatever,” Bakugou yawned. He actually, honest-to-God yawned, rubbing his eyes and smacking his lips when it was over, like he couldn’t help himself.

Oka-ay. Whoever had possessed Bakugou’s body needed to take lessons on how to stay in character. Or, on a more serious note, perhaps something was very terribly wrong.

“So. Completely ignoring the fact that whatever you’re doing consistently wakes me up on a nightly basis… You know you can come to me if something is bothering you, right?”

Bakugou’s face fell into a deadpan, his lips pursed. “Goodnight.” He slammed the door.

And in that moment, as Eijirou’s face was met with a gust of air from the forceful closing, he made up his mind. If it happened again… he had a plan.