Chapter Text
Katsuki locked eyes with the man in front of him, scowling as they stared each other down. The asshole had already patted him down, twice, and looked like he was contemplating doing it again just to piss him off. Another man stepped from around the low wall, holding Katsuki’s ID out to him. “All good to go, Mr. Bakugou,” he managed as Katsuki snatched his ID away and shoved it into his wallet. “This way please.”
The long groan of the buzzer following the clicking of the locks echoed as Katsuki followed one of the guards through the containment locks. Down the hallway, another set of locks and security protocol before he was ushered into a room with multiple round tables and even more guards stationed along the walls. Some of the tables were occupied by other inmates and their visitors, mostly families with a few children who colored patiently while their parents talked. Katsuki was led to the same table that they always occupied, closer to the window with a view of the green park on the other side of high barbed wire fences.
Left to his own devices as the guard walked off to confirm Shitty Hair’s visitor with the other extras, Katsuki watched out the window, eyes squinting as he tried to identify the tiny figures that moved between the bushes and trees of the park. He wondered what Deku would be up to right now. The container with the salted caramel apple pie bars that Deku had sent along had been thoroughly contaminated by the guard’s security protocol as they touched every piece, moved them around, and even took one to test and sample before he was allowed to bring it back. The fuckers had worn gloves at least, but the thought of eating them now made his stomach churn. Thank God he had snuck a few before he brought them in.
Thanks to Deku's insistent baking, he had been forced to increase his workout regime beyond his usual maintenance set. Gazing at the green trees, his mind wandered to what Deku had looked like. Pinky had described him as green and short, refusing to give any more detail than that.
It felt like ages of being left with his own thoughts before he heard the buzzer groan and the locks shift from the other side of the room, just audible over the low hum of conversations. He could hear Shitty Hair before he saw him, greeting the guards with a laugh and making a point to say hey to one of the other inmate’s visitors.
Dark eyes that shone carmine in the fluorescent light met their twin, a grin threatening to split Shitty Hair’s face in half. “KATS!” Kirishima shouted, catching the irritated gaze of a few guards and the flinching of the uninitiated as he made his way to Katsuki.
Kirishima Eijirou was a beast of a man, towering over the guard that escorted him to the table. Prior to his detention, Kiri worked as a trainer for a local athletic facility and was the physical representation of peak physical performance. He even moonlighted as a bouncer during the off-season for some of the bars and clubs in Minato City, well-known for his large presence and the fact that he could take a solid hit and dish it back tenfold.
Even now, he looked larger than he did the last time Katsuki saw him, more muscle, less fat. Like he had been hitting the gym nonstop for months, which he probably had since there wasn't much else to do. His bright red hair which had been previously styled in gravity-defying spikes, now hung about his face with black roots heavily showing. His face, though still grinning as he folded himself to sit at the table across from Katsuki looked tired with darker circles under his eyes than he had ever seen.
“You look like shit.”
Kirishima laughed heartily, his eyes lighting up with mischief that could only spell disaster for Katsuki. “I feel like shit. How’s the wife?”
“Hah?!” Katsuki blanched as Shitty Hair snatched the dessert container from the table, cracking the lid and groaning as the smell of salted caramel and apple pie filled their senses.
“You know, the new roommate?” He added as he carefully pulled one of the bars out of the box and looked over it, turning it this way and that before biting into it and letting out a groan of “oh my gooooood,” Katsuku snatched the container away from him, hissing a vehement “fuck you”. Shitty Hair didn’t even bother pretending to hear him as he ate the rest of the bar like it was his last fucking meal, licking his fingers clean.
“What’s he look like?” Shitty Hair prompted as he rested his chin in his hand, gaze focused on the box of treats with a crooked smirk.
“How the fuck should I know?” Shitty Hair perked up, attention peaked.
“What do you mean how should you know? You haven’t seen him!?”
“Fuck no, we have opposite schedules. He’s at the house when I’m at work and gone when I’m there.”
“Dude, no way!”
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“You haven’t even tried to look him up?!”
“The fuck – no, I’m not a damn stalker!” One of the guards nearby their table coughed loudly, glaring at Katsuki from under his hat when they made eye contact. “What?” He barked back, only pulled from his impromptu staring contest by Shitty Hair snatching the box of bars again, pulling one triumphantly before Katsuki grabbed it back. “I don’t need to know what he looks like, he pays and bakes. What more do I need to know?”
“He sounds cute,” Kirishima hummed as he bit into the bar, chewing slower with his gaze trained on Katsuki’s face. “When I talked to him on the phone.”
This made Katsuki pause, eyes narrowed and flicking over his supposed friend’s face.
“I told him I would tell him everything that happened.”
“Why?”
“Because I want him to know.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know man-”
“Why?”
“I-I just want him to!”
“Why?”
“Because-, maybe, uh, I don’t know.”
“Why?”
“I want to know!” Kirishima blurted out, eyes wide as he leaned across the table towards Katsuki, a vulnerable look etched across his face.
“What do you want to know?” Katsuki questioned, voice quieting as he leaned towards his friend.
“I- I want to know if he believes me.”
“Believes you how?”
“If he thinks I’m innocent...” Katsuki sat in stunned silence as he watched his friend’s expression droop. Suddenly all of the energy on his face, the joy and causal laughter drained out of him as Kirishima's eyes dropped to his hands spread on the table. “I want to know if he thinks I’m innocent.”
“Why the fuck does it matter what he thinks?” Katsuki grit out, expression hardening as Kirishima met his eyes, his own vulnerable expression hardening to match for a moment before softening again.
“Maybe if he believes me, it’ll be true.”
“Of course it’s true,” Katsuku scoffed, sitting back in his seat and throwing his arm up in a rude gesture before roughly shoving the box of treats toward the other man. The action brought a tiny smile back to Kirishima’s face as he helped himself to a third bar, happily munching on it as the two men sat in a brief silence. “What’s he sound like?”
Shitty Hair grinned back at him, wiping his mouth as he tilted his head to look at the ceiling, tapping his chin in the most dramatic way possible like the fucking tool he was. The fucker kept considered the ceiling from different angles, obviously trying to get on Katsuki’s last fucking nerve.
“He sounded cute, like, he had a higher voice than you." Katsuki leveled him with the most deadpan look he could muster. "He mutters his thoughts out loud without realizing it. I don’t know man, he sounded like a character from a shounen anime.” He laughed, eyes bright as he waggled his eyebrows at Katsuki which earned him a scoff.
“Fucking great, the rambling is nonstop.”
“Does he do it in his notes too?!”
“Yeah, just goes on a fucking tangent and suddenly he’s left two full notes without saying a goddamn thing.”
“I mean, he seems nice at least?”
“Yeah, if you like slobs who can’t get their shit together.”
“Speaking of not being able to get their shit together…”
“Don’t get me started on Dunce Face-“
“Any word from that lawyer?”
Katsuki felt the humor drain out of him, smirk dropping at the mention of that lowlife. Kirishima held his smile, but it began to slip as they sat in the telling silence. “Still nothing?”
“Fucker won't even call us back.”
“You- you guys are paying him, right?”
“OF COURSE WE’RE PAYING HIM! We send him a fuckin' check every month!” Katsuki exploded, throwing his hands up and grabbing at his hair instead of slamming them on the table.
Say what you will, but Katsuki did learn from his previous experiences. The last time he had pulled a stunt like that resulted in him being shoved into the table by two guards and promptly kicked out for ‘inciting violence and aggressive displays of behavior’. He growled out a deep sigh as he tugged at the sandy blonde strands and counted back from 10, running his hands down his face as he tried to match the pace of his breathing to the countdown.
“We’ve all reached out to him and he keeps saying shit like, 'he’s trying to find more evidence' or 'he’s interviewing more witnesses'. Soy Sauce even went to his fuckin' office. The bastard said that there was nothing more that we could do right now except wait.” Katsuki breathed out a sigh, watching as the disappointment and despair began to creep over the other’s face.
“Oh… that’s… um. Ok. I’m… I’m sure something will come up?” Kirishima offered a hopeful smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah.” Katsuki watched his friend’s expression as he tried to recover the happy feelings from before, eyes flitting around the room to the other inmates and their visitors. The silence was awkward and stilted, probably owing to the suffocating realization that they were sitting in a fucking prison, surrounded by armed guards, and relying on a lawyer who didn’t seem to know his ass from his hat that was siphoning their collective money into a black hole while they watched helplessly.
One of the lights overhead flickered with a conspicuous hum. Katsuki drummed his fingers on the table with a smirk as he caught his best friend’s eye. “Did Sparkplug tell you how he asked two separate people on a date and then ghosted himself because he forgot where they were meeting up?”
“No way!”
"Yeah, sent them to one place and he went somewhere else."
"Pfffttt - hahahah."
Shitty Hair said thanks for the bars. They were alright.
I’m so glad he liked them! The katsudon was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. It tasted just like my Moms! (a few wet spots were splashed on the note)
What the fuck? Did you cry over that?
NO! I GOT SOME WATER ON IT!
Bullshit. Fucking crybaby. You good with yakitori?
NOT A CRYBABY. I’m going to visit my Mom this weekend, so you can make whatever you want.