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Amajiki was growing to appreciate the bold first year. Kirishima Eijirou was a good kid, a bit of a goofball, but nonetheless a sweet kid.

He never said anything about Amajiki's shy demeanor, and was more than happy to fill the silences of desk work with jokes and exaggerated stories, and always laughed at the third years quiet one-liners.

After only a week, Amajiki hardly stuttered around him anymore, not unnoticed by their mentor ('It took you five months to not be nervous around me! I told you that kid was something special, didn't I?').

However, it's not like the two were the best of friends. Which is why Amajiki is surprised when the two are changing into their costumes and Kirishima asks, "Bakugo wants me to have dinner with his parents. Like, an official dinner to meet them."

Amajiki raises his eyebrows, shrugging his cape over his shoulders, "Have you met them before?"

He hears the young boy sigh, and sit on the small sofa across the room, "Well, yeah," Kirishima pulls on his boots, "But, like, never officially. Never more then ten minute interactions."

The third year stays quiet, expecting the boy to finish his thought. After about a minute of silence he does, "I'm really nervous."

"Why?"

"What if they don't like me?"

Amajiki turns to the boy who's focused on the laces of his boots. He feels a bit sad. Amajiki knew the feeling, "Why wouldn't they like you?"

Eijirou pauses a second, "My own parents don't fucking like me. Why would his?" He snaps. He immediately regrets it, and looks up remorsefully at his upperclassman, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Yeah, yeah you did." It's quiet as Tamaki avoids his eyes. He lets a few moments pass as he puts on his belt, "I'm sorry about your parents," he says quietly.

"It's whatever."

"Right." Amajiki knew what he was going through. Feeling alone and like you had to keep the abuse and neglect a secret. Protecting your own shame, "Its not your fault."

"I said it's whatever."

Amajiki sighs, and meets his eyes. He won't press the matter, it's no use. When he was a first year he never imagined telling anyone about how his mom abandoned him.

"Right," he puts on his mask and pulls his hood up, "Just be yourself. I promise, just... I don't know. You're worth knowing, Kirishima. Give them the chance, and if they don't like you, well- fuck them. Bakugo likes you and that's what matters, right?"

Kirishima stands and the two head towards the door, "Thanks, Amajiki-san."

"Yeah."

*******************
Amajiki's never been shot before.

Guns were illegal in Japan, he'd always been more worried about getting his shit rocked by a villain than a gun.

But he had never imagined that it would hurt like that.

When the bullet hits him the momentum forces him to the ground and he takes in a sharp breath. He's a bit dizzy but he's able to see the ginger run after the man who shot him.

The initial shock begins to wear off and he sits up from the cold concrete, hissing when he moves his arm. He pulls it in front of him with his opposite hand to see the injury.

The bullet was embedded, the pain was stabbing. Something was wrong.

He didn't know what until one of the villains him and Kirishima had taken down gets up and begins to run.

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