Chapter Text
Kirishima woke up feeling groggy. Something in his head felt heavy and he struggled lifting it to view his surroundings. He was in a mostly empty room made out of what appeared to be concrete. Directly across the room, a large mirror spanned the length of the far wall.
Looking at his reflection, he realised he was standing against one of the walls. Well, more like hanging . Both of his wrists were encircled by thick metal cuffs attached to iron chains, lifting him high enough that his toes barely touched the ground. He looked up at them and tested their hold, tugging sharply. He sighed when they didn’t budge.
This wasn’t how he thought his day would go. If only he had realised the potential danger he had put himself into back at the coffee shop. He should’ve just stepped back and let Mr. Aizawa handle it. Surely he wouldn’t be in this situation right now had he just waited for five seconds. He frowned. What an idiot.
A voice to his right stirred him from his thoughts. “Hey.”
His head snapped to face whoever was speaking to find the girl from the café staring back at him. Her eyes were a shockingly vibrant ultraviolet purple and were narrowed threateningly at him. He noted with surprise that, besides their colour, her eyes resembled Bakugo’s both in shape and the intensity of their gazes.
“Stop blaming yourself. None of this is your fault,” she ordered, her upper lip jerking to one side in a half snarl as she spoke.
Kirishima’s eyes widened. Did she read his mind or something? “How did you-”
She scoffed. “It was written all over your face, hero.”
The redhead started at that. This girl thought he was a full-fledged hero! “No no no, I’m not a hero! Not yet anyway…” His hand itched to rub the back of his neck. He hadn’t realised he had made that a habit.
The girl rolled her eyes. A strand of her silver pixie cut slid into her vision and she glared at it angrily before blowing at it fruitlessly. “Hero-in-training, then? Unless you’re just some weirdo who likes going around town with his chest fully exposed.”
Kirishima gave a small chuckle. “Yeah, I’m a student at UA.”
This seemed to impress her. She smirked. “No shit?”
He nodded. “I’m part of the Heroics Program!”
Something in her expression soured. “Fat lot of good that’s doing now, huh?”
Kirishima’s smile drooped and his gaze fell to the floor, eyebrows furrowed. She was right. He’d already been attending UA for a year. One would think he’d have learned at least something that could help him in this situation. “Yeah.”
The girl shrugged. “No use moping. What’s your name, Shitty Hair?”
Kirishima flinched. That was what Bakugo called him. She couldn’t have known that, but it still stung to hear someone else say it. Bakugo had tried to save him. He remembered watching the blonde soar across the pavement in his direction, hand outstretched. His fingers flexed, still feeling Bakugo’s fingertips brush against them. He had been so close to reaching him. The redhead was sure that the teen was raving mad right now, angrily trying to find the villains who kidnapped him. At least he could be sure someone was looking for him.
He looked up at the girl and gave a friendly smile. “Eijiro Kirishima. And you?”
“Chiara Coccio.” Her surname rolled off her tongue in a way that sounded foreign. He tried to mimic it, adding a respective suffix to it, but it sounded clunky coming from him. The girl smirked. “Just call me Chiara. Hate the formalities anyway.”
Kirishima gave a small thanks coupled with a nervous laugh. “Is your name European?”
She nodded. “Italian, yeah. My parents lived there before moving here for work,” she replied factually. Then she flashed a proud smile. “My mom’s Beacon.”
Kirishima’s eyes widened. He had heard of her. She was one of the leading rescue heroes. Her quirk allowed her to produce light all over her body, helpful for disasters that happened at night. She was known as one of the leading rescue heroes around the globe. “Wow, that’s amazing! What about you? Do you want to be a hero?”
Chiara nodded. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Kirishima couldn't argue with that. Being a hero was every kid’s dream come true. He tilted his head. “Are you in a hero program?”
She shook her head, suddenly looking wistful. “No. Not yet. But I will be.” She sounded determined. Kirishima admired that.
He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the door to the room creaked open. A pair of villains entered the room. One was slender and short with thick glasses and the other was stocky and balding. They both wore disturbing grins on their faces.
“Look who’s awake,” the one with the glasses intonated lyrically.
Kirishima swallowed. He wasn’t looking forward to whatever was coming next…