Chapter Text
There’s no one waiting for Eijirou at the airport, but that’s about what he expected. His grandpa’s not in any condition to be driving around, and from what Kirishima could gather from the email he got a few weeks ago, his caretaker must stay with him, like, 24/7. And if grandpa dearest is as eager to see his grandson as Ei is to see him — that is, not at all and then some —, then there’s no way the old man would spend two hours inside a stuffy car just to pick him up.
So Ei takes a taxi, and when the driver tells him he’s crazy for wanting to go to Yubari, he tells him he knows, and that ends their conversation.
When he arrives at the address that Uraraka-san gave him, he’s half-tempted to just run after the taxi and go back home. His mothers might have guilt-tripped him into visiting his dying grandpa, but he can always just… lie. He can tell both of them that he and jiijii made peace with each other, that in his dying state the old man realized he’d been wrong after all, and he knows his grandpa won’t be around long enough to correct him. They’d never know.
Still.
Eijirou might be able to lie to his moms, but he’s still a fool , at the end of the day.
He’s a hopeful, naive fool, and he wants closure more than anything. Hearing his grandpa reject him won’t do much for him — he’s dealt with it his entire life, and he doesn’t respect the old man nearly enough to be affected by him —, but the slight chance that the old man might have changed between ten years ago and now… if there’s even a small possibility that the two of them might be able to get along after all, then Eijirou will take it. He’s too curious to just let it end like this, and he’s matured enough that he can admit that, for all his many flaws, his grandpa still raised him.
He distracts himself by looking around him, at his old neighborhood and at his old town. Even back then, it was practically deserted, but now it’s just a complete ghost town. It’s always been quiet, but Ei is more surprised his grandpa’s house is completely silent, especially since the old man used to be so loud way back when. He’s almost worried that something might have happened during his flight, but when he’d told Uraraka-san he’d arrived, she hadn’t said anything.
Bracing himself, Ei opens the door. The (good? bad? neutral?) thing about living in Yubari is that there’s not really any need to lock your doors; if you’re lucky enough to have neighbors, you’ll probably know everything about them. If you’re isolated, then there’s only a 0.0001% chance that someone will ever pass by your place — and if they do, they’ll only assume your house is one of the many abandoned houses around the area.
So Eijirou steps foot in the house he grew up in, the house he’d once swore he’d never again visit, and looks around. He doesn’t know if it’s great or terrible that nothing’s changed since he left ten years ago: it’s great because it’s still his house , and he remembers that bump in the wall as the place where he’d once hit his head while playing with his chair, and he recognizes that couch and that cup and those pillows, and it’s still home .
On the other hand, it’s also terrible because it’s home , and he might have left this place but he knows that he’ll never be rid of it, just like it’ll never be rid of him . The house is marked with Eijirou — by the stickers on the cupboard that everyone tried to get rid of but that somehow still persevered, by the permanently-broken light in his room that he can’t recall why is broken in the first place, by the scratches on the wall that his pet kitty made when he was seven —, but he’s marked by the house, too.
They’re not physical marks — except for the scar on his eye that he got when he fell down the rooftop —, but they’re psychological marks, and that’s even worse. There are memories of this place, both good and bad and amazing and terrible, that he’ll always bring with him.
The smell of the house is terrible, too, but only because it’s so damn familiar . There’s no way he could describe it to anyone else, but it’s a scent that brings back memories and that tightens something in his heart because it’s a scent that he never wanted to smell again.
Ei sighs and lays his small duffel bag on the couch. He can hear the sound of the shower running, so he knows the old man and Uraraka-san are here, but he’s not quite ready to face them yet, so he occupies his mind by unpacking what little he brought.
About eight months ago, his mom told him his grandpa had lung cancer and refused to be treated. This gave the old man about a year, tops. Ei doubts jiijii will last the remaining four months, but if there’s anyone who would stick it out until the end out of sheer stubbornness then it’s the old man. As a firefighter in Tokyo, Ei was able to take a month off work — but only because he’d worked the past five months nonstop, so that his vacation days could accumulate.
It took his moms three months to convince him to come, and even then, he’d only agreed because he’d thought they would forget. But they didn’t.
The shower stops running, and Ei contemplates the pros and cons of going over there now. Every second he spends delaying this meeting is another second he spends worrying his damn head off, and he can’t afford to tire himself out by overthinking.
He takes a deep breath and makes for the long hallway that leads to all of the bedrooms. Ten years ago, it’d been him, his mom, both his grandparents, his aunt and uncle, and his cousin living in this space.
When his grandma died, jiijii was left alone. She was the glue that kept their family tied down to Yubari, and with her gone there’d been no more reason to stay.
Now, it’s just him and jiijii . The thought makes him want to throw up.
“Uraraka-san?” He asks, knocking on the bathroom door. There’s shuffling inside, but when he speaks the shuffling stops. “Is it alright if I come in?”
“ Eh? ”
Eijirou frowns and opens the door, his mind blank. He doesn’t think about who this person could possibly be, because all that’s on his mind is, I don’t recognize that voice .
What he finds inside the bathroom is… a man.
A blond, very naked man.
Eijirou screams, and the man catches his right eye with a mean hook, making Ei scream again.
“What the fuck , man!” He cups his right eye with his hand, but that only hurts more. Belatedly, he realizes he’s probably much stronger than this stranger and could probably take him on in a fight, but his eye fucking hurts . “Who are you? What are you even doing here?”
The man scoffs. “You’re the one who barged in here. Who the fuck just comes in when I’ve clearly just gotten out of the shower and obviously haven’t had time to—”
“This is my house!” Another scoff, and Ei would glare at him if his eye weren’t hurting so much. “Well, it used to be my house, at least. I’m Kirishima Eijirou, Hiroshi’s my grandpa. And you still haven’t answered who you are. Don’t think that punch was enough to take me down, because it wasn’t!”
Eijirou turns away from the door and towards the mirror. He’s well aware the man is still naked, but he needs to check over the damage — if his eye is too red, then he’ll probably need to get that checked and, honestly, he’s not sure he trusts himself to come back if he leaves for the hospital.
When he sees himself, he grimaces. That eye will definitely turn purple in a few hours… and his hair is a mess, and he stinks due to the plane ride.
Under his breath, he curses, and then closes his eyes. No doubt that jiijii will make some insensitive remark about his appearance — if he ever makes it to him, anyways. As far as he knows, Naked Guy could have killed both the old man and Uraraka-san during Ei’s two-hour taxi ride, and is now just waiting to kill him.
The man clears his throat, and Ei sighs. Unfortunately, the chances that Naked Guy is actually a killer are very small. Sure, he can throw a punch, but an actual killer would have seen his chance and taken it.
Still, the man hasn’t yet identified himself, which is suspicious enough for him. The only reason Ei isn’t more alert in front of this random naked man in his bathroom is because, well, it’s not his bathroom anymore. Ei would have come up with a hundred theories — from this man being a long-lost cousin to the man being a sugar baby for his jiijii (which is disgusting and he never wants to think about that ever again) —, but he knows better than that.
During the brief second where he took in the fact that there was a naked man where Kirishima Hiroshi was supposed to be, he saw the scars in the blond man’s chest. Ei didn’t dare look anywhere below the man’s torso — he respects people too much—, but he saw enough to recognize that this man is trans. Just like him.
And if this man were his long-lost cousin or uncle, or an adopted addition to the family, or even a sugar baby, there’s no way he’d be this carefree while living with Kirishima Hiroshi. Not while the old man was alive and (mostly) breathing, and definitely not while being trans.
“I didn’t know Hiroshi had a… grandson.” Eijirou startles and opens his eyes to stare at the man, who’s wrapped a towel around his waist. “I’m Bakugou Katsuki. Your grandpa’s physical therapist.”
The man doesn’t give Ei his hand to shake, which is just as well. All the redhead can do is stare at the blond with his working eye, gaping. He’d swore this guy was something like a repairman or electrician — judging from the muscles he has on him —, but a physical therapist ? It makes sense, but it doesn’t at the same time. He doesn’t see why jiijii would refuse treatment for his lung cancer but still pay a physical therapist to stay with him.
Bakugou stands like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be, his arms crossed but still confident. He makes no effort to hide his scars, which Eijirou is envious of, and if he hadn’t literally seen him naked, Ei would never have been able to tell he’s trans. He has something in his ears — hearing aids? — that he must have put in while Ei was reeling back from the punch, and the scowl on his face looks permanent.
“Oh.” Ei swallows his envy down. “I’m Kirishima Eijirou — Uraraka-san didn’t mention that I’d be coming by?”
At this, Bakugou finally looks away from him. “She did.”
Eijirou raises an eyebrow, but before he can question the other about it, he hears the distinct sound of a door being opened.
“Bakugou!” A voice calls out. “Kirishima-san should be arriving any time now! Please clean up the bedrooms and— oh.”
A woman freezes when she catches sight of the two of them. Her big eyes roam over Kirishima’s wounded eye and then turn to Bakugou with a terrifying glare.
“I can’t believe you,” she tells the blond, shaking her head at him, then turns to Ei with a bright smile. “Kirishima-san, I’m Uraraka Ochako, we talked by email! I’m so sorry for him. I do hope he hasn’t scared you off yet—”
Ei smiles. “Ah, it’s fine!”
Her eyes widen as he speaks, and he realizes with a heavy heart that she probably hadn’t expected him to be a man. He’d never specified in their emails, and if she’d asked jiijii about him then there’s no doubt the old man would have misgendered him. It also explains why Bakugou had been so startled to see him, a random man, enter his bathroom.
“Ah.” He swallows, and it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “Er… I’m sorry for any confusion, Uraraka-san. I’m Kirishima Eijirou , Hiroshi’s grandson.” Ei briefly glances at Bakugou, who’s glaring intensely at him for some reason. “And the eye is all my fault, really. I kind of barged in on him after his shower and, well…”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Kirishima-san.” She frowns like she really means it, and he doesn’t doubt her. “And, trust me, you don’t have to apologize for Bakugou… he’s a brat.”
The blond throws her a mean gesture and she returns it with a half-hearted glare.
Just by that interaction, Ei can tell the two of them are close, and he misses his friends back home. Briefly, he wonders if Bakugou and Uraraka are dating and dreads the thought — he won’t be able to take being a third wheel for an entire month.
“Whatever,” Bakugou says, and Ei turns back to him. “Now that we’re all acquainted, can the two of you get the hell out so I can get dressed?”
Ei and Uraraka-san do as instructed, but as soon as they step into the hallway he remembers everything else and nearly turns back around.
“Hiroshi-san is in the living room,” Uraraka-san explains. “Sorry for the delay, I thought you’d take longer to arrive…”
Her voice is strained, but Eijirou is too busy dreading the next ten minutes to really pay attention. He figures he’ll have plenty of time to explain the situation to her later, provided she even needs one — she looks plenty smart to have figured out for herself that something’s not quite right in the Kirishima family.
When he arrives at the living room and sees his grandpa for the first time in ten years, Eijirou’s heart sinks. No matter how things ended between them, no matter the harsh words exchanged and the grudge that both of them held onto for ten years… Eijirou never wanted to see his grandfather like this.
The old man looks dreadful, and that’s putting it lightly. He looks so frail in his wheelchair, his arms thin enough to break if Ei touches them, and he’s completely bald now. The Kirishimas have never been white-skinned, their color a healthy tan, but Hiroshi is so pale he barely looks like himself anymore. It shouldn’t be possible, and it’s not right.
No one should look this tired — especially not the man who’d worked six jobs just to pay for his children’s schools, who’d once carried two children (Ei and his cousin Nanako) back home because their car had run out of gas, who’d complain if someone ever told him to take a break.
When Hiroshi’s droopy eyes meet Ei’s, nothing passes over them.
Not recognition. Not regret. Not guilt. Not love.
“Who’s this?” His grandpa asks, his voice so rough it’s almost gravel.
Eijirou runs back to the bathroom, ignoring Bakugou’s angry protests, and makes it to the toilet bowl before throwing up the entirety of the shitty airplane meal.
*
Later, Uraraka-san tells him Hiroshi had just gotten home from a session with his therapist, which is why he was so out of it. Later, she tells him Ei’s mom had forced Hiroshi to go to therapy, in exchange for letting the old man go without any kind of treatment for his lung cancer. Later, she tells him Hiroshi still smokes and will hurt himself if she or Bakugou try to stop him, but she also tells him that he’s forbidden them from telling anyone about this.
This is all done after Eijirou pukes an entire day’s worth of food, however. She only tells him this once she has the chance to, which is hard to do when he’s focusing so much of his energy on just forcing his body to work properly.
By the time Uraraka-san clarifies exactly what the situation is with Hiroshi, the damage is already done. Eijirou is convinced his grandpa doesn’t even remember who he is anymore, and the worst part is that he’s not sure if he’s heartbroken or relieved. It’s entirely possible he’s both heartbroken and relieved, but he refuses to acknowledge either.
Instead, he focuses on the simpler emotions — like being angry at Uraraka-san and Bakugou for letting him smoke.
“He’s a dying old man,” he says, deadpan, once he’s sure Hiroshi is asleep. “How hard can it be to just keep cigarettes away from him? And what do you mean he’s forbidden you from telling my mom?”
The blond is the first to answer, glaring right back at him. “He’s your old man, you should know better than anyone how hard it is to keep him on a leash. Damn bastard keeps threatening to harm himself if we do anything.”
Eijirou doesn’t see how that weak old man in a wheelchair could ever tell someone like Bakugou what to do, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry, Kirishima-san,” Uraraka-san says, but Ei doesn’t know if she’s apologizing for her behavior regarding his jiijii or for Bakugou’s crass language and attitude. “And I also apologize for before. I didn’t know the two of you were… estranged .”
Before he can reply, Bakugou scoffs. “The hell you didn’t. The old man barely talks about his family, and when he does it’s to complain about them. Plus, we’ve been staying with him for, what? A year and a half now? And no one’s ever come to visit him—”
“Bakugou.” Uraraka-san shuts him up with a glare. “It’s not up to us to make assumptions about a patient’s personal life.”
She turns to Eijirou, probably to apologize yet again, but the redhead isn’t paying attention. It hurts to find out that his grandpa didn’t talk about them, but not more so than the knowledge that the stubborn bastard was still misgendering him, even now. Give him a few more days and he’ll get used to being constantly disappointed by Hiroshi all over again.
But it’s not something Ei wants to spend time thinking about, so instead he turns his thoughts to what really matters: Bakugou.
“You don’t sound like you’re from here,” Ei tells the blond, who just scowls at him in response. “I know Uraraka-san is from Asahikawa, but your dialect—”
“I’m from Tokyo.” Bakugou looks at him as if he weren’t worth his time. “Not that that’s any of your business. You don’t sound like you’re from here, either.”
Undeterred, Ei smiles. “Oh, cool! I live in Tokyo, too. Been living there for ten years, ever since I left here. I love it… So why’d you come here ?”
“What, you got no love for your hometown?” The blond’s expression doesn’t change, but Ei realizes he’s touched on a sensitive subject for the other by the wide-eyed look that Uraraka-san gives him. “Like I said before, Shitty Hair, it’s none of your damn business.”
Ei frowns, not really offended but about to retaliate, but Uraraka-san then takes him aside and leads him to another room — the one that his cousin stayed in, back when they all lived here.
“Kirishima-san, please don’t mind Bakugou.” She sighs and lets go of her strong, though not enough to bother, grip. “He’s an asshole, but… well. That’s it, really. You’ll be staying with us for a month, right?”
He nods. “Do you think the old man will last until then?”
The woman doesn’t lie to him, which he appreciates. It’s not like he hasn’t come to terms with his grandpa’s imminent death, but he’s still here and he did take a whole month off just for this, anyway.
“Honestly? I’m surprised he even lasted this long.” Uraraka-san grimaces. “Ah, sorry, I don’t mean to sound like I’m complaining—”
“You apologize too much, Uraraka-san. It’s alright.” Ei smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “So how long do you think he has?”
She shrugs, frowning. “Half a month, give or take.”
Upon hearing this, Eijirou sighs. That means he has half a month to try to get along with his grandpa before the old man finally bites the dust… half a month to do what he couldn’t do for the first 14 years of his life.
Half a month to endure the same transphobic, racist bullshit he’d grown up hearing.
“Kirishima-san,” Uraraka-san says, her tone delicate, “I’m wondering about your relationship with Hiroshi-san… I know he’s a hard man to get along with, but if you dislike him then why did you come here?”
Ei is half-surprised at her direct question, especially considering how polite she’d seemed just a minute ago, but more than that, he’s conflicted. He doesn’t want to bear his heart out to a woman he just met, no matter how nice she seems, but he also doesn’t think a simple, straight-forward answer would be enough to describe his complicated relationship with his jiijii .
“I wasn’t going to,” he says, honestly. “When I found out he had lung cancer, I’m not gonna lie to you — I was sort of relieved.”
The guilt hits him like a truck immediately after he says it, but he keeps it down.
Uraraka-san nods like she understands, and maybe she does, but what matters is that she’s not judging him. If Ei can focus on this one thing — the knowledge that Uraraka-san isn’t judging him —, then he thinks he might be able to get through this whole thing after all.
“He raised me, up until I was 14.” He clears his throat. “He may not have, uh… respected who I am, but he’s still my grandfather.”
There’s more that he wants to say, but right now Uraraka-san looks like she’s about to intervene and he doesn’t wanna deal with that at the moment.
At the doorway, someone clears their throat. Ei turns, almost expecting to find Hiroshi eavesdropping on their conversation, but it’s just Bakugou.
The blond is glaring at him, but Ei doesn’t know him enough to know why. He’s willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that that’s just his normal face, but he can’t help but feel like Bakugou is judging him for not being there for his grandpa. The thought makes him angry, especially with the unfriendliness that the blond has greeted him with so far, and he decides that he doesn’t like the physical therapist at all.
Plus, his eye is still hurting from the punch he took earlier that day, and although he made sure to apologize to Bakugou, the other is yet to say anything about it.
“Enough talk,” Bakugou says. “Let’s go the fuck to sleep.”
Uraraka-san rolls her eyes. “Fine, you nerd.”
The three of them disperse, heading off to their respective bedrooms. Uraraka-san is staying at the room that used to be his mom’s, while Bakugou is staying at his aunt and uncle’s bedroom — probably because of the king-sized bed.
Ei heads to the room that used to be his, too tired to really care about all the memories he holds of this room.
As soon as he lies down, he passes out.