Reinforcement - We're not all unbreakable (Kirishima x Reader(Y/n))

Chapter 3

"No, no, no! Please, take at least a couple days to recover! It won't be an issue at all, 'sides, if I'd been there sooner you wouldn't have over exerted yourself. It's my fault."

Y/n was fine, but Red Riot wouldn't take no for an answer. He apologized profusely, explaining how it 'wasn't manly' to put his employees in danger. Finally, she'd relented.

She looked at the time, 10:30 am, and groaned. The day was going to be pitifully slow. Whether she liked it or not, it was time to get out of bed. The pain still felt fresh despite the attack having been a few days prior. Her muscles and bones screamed and felt as if she'd been pulled apart and put back together.

Still.

It wasn't so bad.

The sensation was familiar, and not completely overwhelming. Quirk exhaustion. Y/n stretched as best she could, attempting to placate her sore body with gentle motion. The feeling was one she felt often during her training, it always made her feel as if she'd accomplished something. As if she'd held up just to her breaking point. Despite her best efforts, she'd not been able to exert her quirk or body enough to the point where she felt like this. Battered and sore, but not completely broken and falling apart. Maybe it was too much to hope for.

It certainly was. She was happy where she was at. Y/n shook her head, such thoughts should be far from her mind. Y/n grimaced as she saw the angry, scarred, red skin that covered most of her bare torso and arms. The skin ached slightly, as if reminding her. Yes. Such thoughts should be very far from her mind.

Upset, Y/n threw on a thin, black long-sleeved shirt. Finding clothing to accommodate her scars had always been a challenge. Surely, her long sleeves in hot weather would raise some eyebrows, but she would much rather be stared at for her fashion choices than her very body.

There was a knock at the door.

Well, knock wasn't exactly correct. A pounding. There was a pounding at the door.

Y/n didn't have to think twice to know who would have the audacity to come pounding on her door like that.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Ya' don't need to slam on the door like that!" She shouted, irritation rising in her throat. Her studio apartment was small, Bakugou knew that. There was no reason for him to be pounding on the door like that.

He practically came barrelling in the moment she opened the door.

"That idiot," Bakugo hissed as he briefly looked over y/n.

"It's fine. Nothing happened, stop being so dramatic." she huffed, crossing her arms as the pro-hero slowly composed himself. Bakugo was in his hero costume, large gauntlets slung across his back instead of actively in use and his spikey head-piece still in place. Y/n could see his communicator blinking, meaning he was likely still on duty and was just stopping by briefly. It was somewhat comical seeing the pro fully decked out in his costume while just standing in her studio kitchen. Too plain. He didn't match.

Bakugo narrowed his eyes and matched her crossed arms as if mocking her, "Kirishima's an idiot because clearly you're fine and should be back at work. For someone with a hardening quirk, he's soft." He pulled out a kitchen chair and flopped down.

"Stop being such an ass, Red Riot has been really nice to me," y/n responded, leaning against the kitchen counter as she watched Bakugo fiddle with the gauntlets on his back. They were too large to let him sit comfortably. She'd rather not make an attempt at sitting down and then standing again, the pain wouldn't even be worth it.

The room was silent for a moment. His intense staring should have been uncomfortable, but Bakugo had been such a constant presence in her life for the past 6 or so years that she'd grown used to his...abrasive demeanor. Even all these years later, Y/n wasn't exactly sure why he'd remained as interested as he did. Sure, he played a heavy involvement in her rescue, but Bakugo had always gone above and beyond for her. Y/n appreciated it.

"Did you end up going to the hospital?" He ventured, finally breaking the silence.

Gauging the situation.

"Yeah, but it was quick. They just checked me over, ran a few tests, and let me go. They did give me some painkillers though, but I haven't taken them."

He nodded slowly, she could see a smirk working its way onto his face. Y/n knew what his reaction would be.

"Well that's a first, not bad."

Y/n nodded.

"I was surprised I even got my quirk to activate at all. I thought being out of practice would have had a bigger effect. That plus all that time injured..."

"Out of practice? Pfft. You idiot, do you think quirk and physical therapy leaves you "out of practice"? The hell do you think it's for?"

"I know, its just-"

"Not the same? Of course not. You don't recover from things like that overnight. Look. I've seen stupid Deku and Rocks-for-brains injured often enough that even with Recovery Girl's quirk it took them months to heal."

"It's been years, Bakugo."

"Some things just take longer than others. Look-"

"I'm done talking about this."

Y/n pushed off from the counter. Her stomach turned in knots and resentment bubbled in her chest. No. They weren't going to have this discussion again. She didn't want to think recovery was just around the corner. Y/n had spent years hoping that was the case.

Surprisingly, Bakugo remained quiet. She glanced at him, only to realize he was listening to his communicator. Y/n rolled her eyes, of course, the only thing that could keep from biting her head off for cutting him off would be hero work. The man lived and breathed his job.

"I've got to go, " He finally said, rising from his seat and re-engaging his gauntlets. They didn't make eye contact until he was finally at the door, his expression surprisingly sober.

"Just stay safe, trust yourself. You might not see your progress, but I sure as hell can."

The bitter-sweet scent of burning sugar lingered as Bakugo propelled himself into the sky just a few feet from the door.

Y/n leaned against the door frame, unsure as to whether or not she wanted to return to the stuffy apartment. The cool morning air felt nice against her skin and the acrid scent of Bakugo's explosions were strangely comforting. Her sore muscles didn't scream at her and part of her wanted desperately to believe his words.

He was right, afterall. It wasn't as if she'd made no progress over the past few years. Sure, it hadn't been fast enough to keep her in the hero program at UA, but it was still something. Her heart lurched as she remembered the pitiful look on her Principle Nozu's face as he told her she would need to transfer out of the hero course.

It had been her dream, her one and only goal, for her entire life at that point. Moving from the United States, separating from her mother, living all alone in a new country. She hadn't truly felt alone, not until that very moment. Y/n could still feel the cold rush of blood run through her body as the words sank in. She'd expected it, but hoped it wouldn't happen. Still, what good would an severely injured and essentially quirkless girl be in the program. She'd only take up space.

Y/n swallowed the bitter feelings. Bakugo was right about a lot of things, and if it had been him in this situation he probably would have found -or even forced- a way to remain in the hero program. To become a Pro-Hero despite the insurmountable odds and his own personal fears.

She slid down to the floor and leaned her forehead against her knees. Pro heroes, especially ones who graduated from UA, were just that. Strong. Firm. Unafraid. Passionate. Nothing could stop them, nothing could lower their spirits. Sure, the job was hard. People died and were hurt all the time, but that didn't break their spirits. They focused on helping others and being the best they could possibly be.

But Y/n couldn't do that.

Even if she could, her best simply wasn't enough.