Kiribaku Oneshots and Fanfics

Red Dye

The stairs creaked noisily as Bakugou made his way down to the kitchen. Cursing the floorboards colourfully, he reached the bottom of the staircase and sighed.

His eyes had large, bruised rings underneath them that he barely managed to hide with concealer. If this went on for any longer, no amount of cosmetics would be able to disguise the fact that Bakugou—

No. He wasn't here to overthink, or feel weak, or remember what happened. He was here to bake.

Making up his mind resolutely, Bakugou pulled out his phone and found the picture of his favourite cupcake recipe (yes, cupcakes). He'd asked the old hag to snap a photo and send it to him before term commenced, "Just in case," he'd murmured.

Mitsuki Bakugou had understood immediately though, and he hated it. Her face had gone all soft and understanding, and she'd pulled him into a sappy, molly-coddling, disgusting hug.

Sneering at the thought, Bakugou pulled out a couple of glass bowls (he liked being able to see the mixture from all angles to make sure he'd beaten everything thoroughly) then set about finding the ingredients.

He always kept flour and sugar around, plus the girls sometimes liked to make cookies, so there were always baking ingredients to hand. Furthermore, he knew that Satou liked making more complex confectionery, so would buy baking ingredients regularly.

Finding everything but the food colouring, Bakugou sniffed to himself, deciding that food dye wouldn't make too much of a difference.

It did.

As he was pouring the sugar on top of the flour, Bakugou set the bag down and put his head in his hands. "Who am I kidding," he muttered, palming his eyes so that bright sparks danced before his eyes, "the dye was the most important part."

The story began a decade earlier, when Bakugou was an insolent little five-year-old.

+ +

He had gotten the idea into his head that it would be great fun to try going down the dark alleyway all his friends had warned him against. "It isn't safe, Bakugou-kun," they'd warned, like the weaklings they were, "even for you."

At that, Bakugou had bristled, fluffing up his feathers like an indignant peacock. "What do you mean, 'even for you'? Fine! I'll just have to prove you losers wrong, then, won't I?"

Grinning, he'd traipsed down the narrow back street, his lackeys' cries of distress growing fainter and fainter the further inside he went. Bakugou kicked a can, the first tell-tale signs of fear creeping through his mind.

He quashed them by reminding himself that, if he wanted to be the number one hero one day, he'd have to put himself in much scarier situations.

However, no amount of mental preparation could've cushioned the impact of what Bakugou saw that day.

As he edged around a large waste container, Bakugou tripped and fell. Cussing lightly, he looked up and got off the ground. Bakugou froze. Every fibre of his being was telling him to run, yet he stayed where he was. It was as if he had been hit by an ice quirk.

Sitting not five metres away was the most revolting creature Bakugou had ever laid eyes upon. It was a vile, vomit green, its eyes wet and grey. It didn't seem to have any obvious form, instead constantly shifting in front of Bakugou like a mirage.

He wished it was a mirage.

However, the monster wasn't the worst part. No, that was reserved for the puppy lying limply in its arms. The dog's skin was pallid; the colour was closer to white than should be physically possible.