Warnings: Major character death.

"I'm just sayin—"

"And I'm just sayin' you're an idiot." Even though he had just been insulted, Kirishima smiled stupidly into his phone. He could hear the amusement in Bakugou's voice despite monopolizing nearly the entire call with a one-sided conversation about a movie he watched the night before. Most of their calls went like this; Kirishima rambling on about his day, the things he did, things he felt Bakugou should be in the loop about. Bakugou was content to listen, making small comments here and there and answering questions when prompted. Some days, on the bad days, Bakugou was the one who would take over the call with frantic ranting and curses, venting to the only one he could trust. Kirishima would listen intently, wanting nothing more than to be there for him as Bakugou always was for him.

"You're just jealous you missed it," Kirishima teased and Bakugou scoffed.

"It sounded like a shitty movie the way you described it." There was a pause and then some commotion in the background, an overhead announcement and the chatter of people. "My train's here, asshole. I'll call you tonight." Kirishima pulled the phone away to check the length of the call. Thirty minutes. One of their shorter calls, but the morning ones usually were.

"Sure," he knew Bakugou could hear the disappointment in his voice, but he didn't try to hide it. "I miss you!" The disappointment was short-lived when he knew he had heard the faintest huff of a laugh.

"Good for you."

"I miss you," Kirishima pressed, emphasizing each word.

"Fuck off. I miss you, too. Bye."

The calls hadn't always been a daily occurrence since Bakugou moved five months ago. There was an opportunity at a hero agency he couldn't pass up, and even though Kirishima felt his heart drop when Bakugou had told him, there was no way in hell he was going to let him pass it up, either. In all honesty, the distance wasn't that far. Bakugou had only moved approximately seven hours away. Some days Kirishima felt like that was a blessing - they were able to visit each other relatively easily and affordably all things considered. Most days, though, the distance felt like a taunt. They were close enough that they didn't have to dish out money on a plane ticket, but far enough that the long drive required the visit to have some planning and most of the time their schedules didn't line up.

Kirishima had started the calls first. He would call Bakugou at the end of their day once a week, then a few times a week, and then it became daily with Bakugou actually being the one to call him if Kirishima wasn't on time. If their schedules didn't allow them to meet in person, they found a way to work around it.

The morning calls were Bakugou's idea and that was a literal rude awakening when Kirishima's phone rang for the first time at six in the morning. Bakugou had got it in his head that if Kirishima's stories had to keep him up late (10:00 pm really wasn't all that late), then Bakugou's stories had to wake him up early. At least, that's what Bakugou said. A few days prior to the morning calls, Kirishima had been complaining that he slept through his alarm and was late for work, which ultimately didn't look good for an up and coming hero. Bakugou would never admit it, but Kirishima couldn't ignore the fact that the quick morning calls happened to be earlier on the days he was working and later on the days he was off. Either way, whether Bakugou was intentionally being Kirishima's personal alarm clock or not, waking up every morning to his voice was something Kirishima would be happy to do for the rest of his life.

He never told Bakugou that.

The distance sucked. It was hard going from seeing each other nearly every day to alternating between quick calls and long ones. When days were rough or good or anywhere in between, it used to be so easy to go to each other to share the joy or offer comfort. Now, everything had to be planned and calculated. Kirishima knew it wasn't going to be forever - Bakugou had no intention of staying at the agency. He just needed to get his foot in the door, gain some experience, and he'd be coming back to open his own agency with Kirishima at his side. That was their plan. They both took the best offers that came their way and settled on calls to punctuated with "I miss you" to make the distance feel smaller.

Hours had passed since their morning call. Kirishima went to work, he came home, showered, ate, did all of his nightly routines, and then waited. Bakugou had said he'd call him. It wasn't like Bakugou to be late, but it wasn't unheard of. Although he had landed a nice gig with standard hours, being a hero didn't always mean you got to clock out at five. Sometimes paperwork needed to be done, sometimes a takedown didn't happen as it should; all things that were commonplace enough for Kirishima not to worry.

And then 7:00 pm came and went. He decided that no matter how perfect he deemed Bakugou, maybe he truly did forget and was waiting for his call instead. Kirishima swiped open the screen, hit Bakugou's name, and waited. The line rang and rang and rang, finally switching over to the automated message prompting for a voicemail. Kirishima hung up and opened their conversation.

You home yet?

He waited for about a minute and when he didn't get a response, he sat down on the couch and placed his phone on the table. Things were fine. Shit happens.

Kirishima's heart practically stopped when he heard a notification, and he scrambled so quickly to his phone that he nearly fell off of the couch in the process, smashing his knees and elbow into the coffee table as he did so. Spitting out quiet curses from the pain, he read the screen.

It was just a text from Kaminari.

He slumped back into the couch, rubbing his injured elbow and tried to ignore the disappointment churning in his gut. Kirishima opened the conversation anyway, feeling guilty if he ignored his friend solely because he wasn't the one he wanted to talk to at the moment.

have u seen the news?

Kirishima made a face at the phone. He was half expecting a meme, not so much an arbitrary question.

No?

He hit send and almost immediately a response came.

im coming over

Kirishima tried to shrug it off, Kaminari often declared that he was going to stop by without much explanation, and sometimes he didn't declare anything at all and just appeared at his apartment using the key Kirishima had given him. It was the question before that caused unease to set into Kirishima's bones. He looked to his remote on the table and debated for a long while whether or not he wanted to turn on the TV. Curiosity eventually won out over the uncertainty and he flicked the TV on, immediately switching to the news channel.

He wished he didn't.

Kirishima's fingers shook as he went back to Bakugou's name on his phone, dialing his number again. The automated message started up after a few rings and this time Kirishima did leave a message.

"Hey, uhm," he didn't know how to start, he couldn't take his eyes from the screen and had to tear them away so he could focus long enough to speak. "Kats, I just saw the news… Please tell me you're stuck with all that paperwork, okay? Call me back as soon as you get this. I miss you," he said the last part on autopilot, wincing as he did so.

The reporter droned on in the background, but it all sounded like white noise to Kirishima. He could only pick out the images; fire, smoke, destruction. The aftermath of chaos. Police and flashing blue and red lights, frightened civilians giving frantic interviews. Blood, dirt, tears. Unknown casualties, unknown fatalities, and in the headline was Bakugou's hero agency.

Kirishima didn't know how much time had passed, but he brought Bakugou's number up again. "It's me. Uh, just… Just call me when you get this. I don't care what time it is." The laugh he let out sounded foreign to his ears; broken and hoarse. "I won't be sleeping tonight, anyway! O-Or text me, yeah? Okay," he swallowed hard, and his throat ached. "I miss you."

A cold chill rolled over Kirishima's body as he stared at the news in a haze. He was fine. He was fine. A choked sound got stuck in his chest when he saw the unfocused, but unmistakable footage of a body bag on a stretcher being wheeled behind the reporter. He distantly noted that 'graphic images' warning had popped up on the screen, advising viewers that the live footage may no longer be just rubble and survivors, and Kirishima dialled again.

"Katsuki, answer your phone. I miss you and you can't fucking do this to me. Please." He took in a shuddering breath as another body bag was wheeled off screen. "Please." And another. Then another.

At some point, when Kirishima pacing his living room, his phone crushed in a white-knuckled grip, there was a knock at his door. He looked up quickly when the knock persisted more urgently, but he was too busy listening to the phone ring endlessly in his ear. The tone sounded and he pulled his fingers through his hair, pacing away from the door as it was unlocked and opened. "Kats, the news is saying there've been hero fatalities. I really need you fucking call me back right fucking now, okay? I miss you so I-I need you to let me know that you're okay."

"It's okay…" Kaminari had stepped towards him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. That's when the gravity of the situation really and truly hit Kirishima. The tears he had been keeping at bay spilled out, the trails they left on his cheeks burning like acid.

"He's not answering his fucking phone, dude!" Kirishima yelled suddenly, sinking to the ground and Kaminari followed him down, running a hand up and down his spine in an effort to console him.

"We don't know anything yet, right? Anything could happen, okay?" His voice shook and it sent Kirishima's heart plunging further. It slammed violently against his ribs and all the way down until it reached the pit of his stomach, twisting his insides painfully. He curled forward, staring at his phone, willing it to ring, to come to life with a text, to do something other than stare back at him blankly. The dread he felt - the grief he felt - was too real and too visceral to pretend that everything was okay now.

Even with Kaminari there, trying to ground him and keep him calm and coherent, Kirishima pressed the phone to his ear again. "Katsuki, I need you t-to call me back," he let out a gasping sob, all of the words he wanted to say dying on his tongue. "Just call me back. I miss you. Please. Please. Please." He didn't even know who he was begging to anymore, but he was desperate for someone to hear his pleas. For someone to take pity on him and yank him out of what was left of the world he was forced to now live in.

"Kiri…"

Kirishima shook his head and dialled again. Ring, ring, please pick up, ring, please, ring… The blood froze in his veins when a different message played and the frustrated cry that ripped itself from his throat burned his chest in agony.

This user's mailbox is full.

Kaminari's hands increased on his shoulders and Kirishima dialled again.

This user's mailbox is full.

Again.

This user's mailbox is full.

Kirishima yelled something, a garbled mix of begging and bargaining, anguish pouring into his body and flooding every ounce of him until all he could feel was the pain of having a part of himself torn away. "Fucking call me back!"

Kaminari had him in a hug, he screamed into his phone, and the news continued to unfold more and more details that slowly suffocated him without remorse.

Bakugou didn't call back that night.

Bakugou didn't call back at all, after that.