[ Art cr: ludehi on Deviantart ]

Eijirou

When you see two people who just don't work together, what are you supposed to do? That's a thought that occurred to me on a nightly basis since that's just how much Katsuki and Momo tend to argue.

As if on schedule, Katsuki's angry shouts pierced through my window while I was trying to copy down notes from a chemistry textbook in hope that I'd be able to pick up my grades. Even though Katsuki is ill-tempered and has a bad attitude towards other students, no one can deny how good his grades are and it has always amazed me. Always.

After I watched his frustrated figure sit on the side of the bed, I observed his hands get dragged down his face- and then grabbed my A4-sized notepad and began writing down a message for Katsuki to read. I held it up landscape, watching him stare at it, then couldn't help but notice his red glare softening a little. Just a little.

'Are you okay?' I had written, and in turn, he grabbed his own notepad and began writing down a reply.

'Tired of shitty drama' I shrugged my broad shoulders in response with a sympathetic smile, which Katsuki replied to by raising his eyebrows slightly.

'Sorry' I accompanied the message with a drawing of a frowny face, and this time it was his turn to shrug, and just as I was about to write another note, the ash blonde boy stood up and pulled his curtains over his window.

Frowning, I put my notepad down after taking one last, longing glance at my last message. I rolled onto my stomach with a helpless sigh and blew a black piece of hair out of my face before sitting back up to continue my consistently mundane studies.

While being able to feel my best friend's frustration through the windows, I'm just in my room on a typical Tuesday night, listening to the kind of music she doesn't like. Momo and Katsuki are just so different, and it's hard to say that it's surprising when she's the type of girl who likes classical music while Bakugou's into rap and punk rock.

'She'll never know your story like I do...'

For a moment, memories start flooding my mind, momentarily distracting me from the familiar, sharp pain in my chest.

~*~*~*~*~

My eyes observed the noticeboard just outside my classroom; having just entered high school I planned to do something to make sure that I could look like a good student. However, I've never been able to stand out, nor do I feel confident in doing so. After a sigh left my lips, I read a bold poster, 'FOOTBALL TRYOUTS!'

The corners of my mouth twitched into a small smile- I've always loved (American) football. My passion grew for it when I was only a child, and I reminisced as I looked through the memories of me rolling over but swiftly getting up, ignoring the sting on my scratched knees to try and catch up with my father.

I'm not quite sure what came over me, but I only blinked, and I found myself walking towards the field. My legs, with a mind of their own, took control of the situation. My heart began beating progressively faster as I saw a group of muscular first years, recognising a few; they were well-built and while I was as well... I preferred not to leave that on show. I smiled when I saw how excited they were, pumping their fists into the air and chatting amongst themselves.

I began having second thoughts- why would I be able to be of value to a team like this? I'm probably nothing compared to them.

Just nothing-

My negativity was fiercely interrupted when a boy ran past me. I didn't recognise him. Surely if I had seen those ash blonde spikes before, I would have remembered them. Time seemed to slow down when he passed me, a grin so enthusiastic it was almost psychotic while he had red eyes which were bright with determination, a stark contrast to my dull ones.

There was a halt to the conversation the boys were having, and they already seemed to dislike this guy's presence. Despite that, the team of newbies went into the changing rooms to get ready, while I sat on the field's sharp-cut grass.

After a few minutes, they came out, and I was able to get a good look at the boy's face. He seemed isolated from the others, but unlike me, he didn't seem to care about such a trivial detail as shown evidently by his confident strut.

Ignoring the way my heart sank at the missed opportunity of playing a sport I had a strong passion for, I watched the tryouts during lunch. They were all amazing, but the boy with the strikingly red irises had kept my attention somehow. I could read the others' gazes almost too easily; they thought of him as conceited, avoided him. But me? I found him... inspiring.

I couldn't help but find his confidence inspiring, since I had none.

He moved so quickly, and despite how temperamental he seemed he could also keep a level head with his opponents being wound into his clear strategy during a practice match.

I mentally kicked myself; if I hadn't let this... anxiety keep me on the side, I would be there right now. At that moment I didn't care about getting in, I just wanted to experience what it was like to go against this boy- it made my blood pump with an excited stir in my stomach. I practically wanted to leap off of nature's floor and cheer when he managed to secure a win for his team, but I stayed sitting on the grass. Though, I probably resembled a vigorously vibrating... phone.

After the tryouts, the team left. Well, nearly all of them. The boy who I had my eye on approached me, covered in sweat which dampened his shirt in the most appealing way.

"Oi." He greeted me, making me look up at him with an unsure gaze. I couldn't help but think that his voice suited his rather rough exterior.

"Um... hey?" I replied awkwardly, struggling to maintain eye contact with his fiery irises.

"Weren't you going to try out for the team too?" I mentally cursed upon hearing that, "You can't hide your enthusiasm for the sport when you were practically a vibrator during the practice match." That vulgar joke was the very thing I was avoiding.

"I... I don't think I'd be that good." I replied, "But- I must say you were amazing!" I somehow managed to build up the courage to admit that, and I couldn't help but feel a little proud of myself.

I saw him smirk at my statement, "I know." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, "Who are you?" It was a rather blunt way of asking, but I jumped onto the opportunity to make a friend.

"Eijirou. Eijirou Kirishima!" By now I had accompanied him as we walked across the field to the changing rooms. When we arrived there, he halted, and I could feel his observant gaze scanning my form, as if he was analysing my features.

"What class are you in?" Another blunt question.

"Hm... 1A I think," I replied, and I saw an amused smirk once more.

"Me too. Wait for me, will ya?"

"Will do." I smiled. Although I missed the opportunity to join the football team, I felt it wasn't a total loss, because I had met my best friend.

Katsuki Bakugou.

~*~*~*~*~

For probably the thousandth time, I glanced over at Katsuki's window, and was met with his yellow curtains once more. I shook my head in frustration, how desperate can a boy be? This habit of mine was something I hated.

I hopped off my bed and walked over to the mirror, scratching the nape of my neck with an unsure gaze as I observed my reflection. 'Maybe if I was a little like Momo, there'd be a chance...' Even though that thought entered my mind, it still felt impossible.

I tried imagining Momo right next to me to make a comparison, but it only made me groan in frustration.

How could I even compare? She wears short skirts, I wear trainers. She's class president, and I'm just a student on the side. She's really nice... and mature. Let's not forget to mention her bosom... she's practically ready to be a mother already.

I placed my hands on my chest, raising an eyebrow. I am a guy after all. "Hmm... if I continued working out these would probably grow and look like boobs..." I mumbled to myself, since Katsuki is the classic teenager. For some reason, I had begun squishing them together as I grew aloof.

I quickly moved on and just began doing push-ups on the floor. Exercise was always a way I could escape my negative thoughts; I just really enjoyed it, and it helped a little with my self-esteem since under my clothes I knew I was in good condition. How could I stay still when a certain blonde boy had inspired me to work hard?

I noticed him observing me after pulling his curtains away, and he seemed pretty pleased to see me working out. 'If only he knew...' Nevertheless, I sat up with a toothy grin, giving him a thumbs up as I caught my breath. In return, he smiled, making my breath hitch- unnoticeable to the naked eye- and I felt a comforting warmth replace the previous pain I was feeling in my chest. I looked down at the message on my notepad, meant for him and him only. 'I love you.'

In case you didn't notice, I, Eijirou Kirishima, am hopelessly in love with my best friend.