Chapter 12

Deku didn't return, neither that evening nor the next day. Not even to retrieve his knife. I wasted half an hour on deciding if I should just throw it out. Would make Deku a little less dangerous. But he'd probably find another 50 ways to kill or hurt me if I did.

Curiosity took over me. I grabbed the knife and sat down on my bed, then I carefully unlocked the two halves of the handle and opened the knife. The image of the well-known blade made me shiver. Once I had locked the handle together again, I slowly slid my finger along the flat side of the knife, over the engraved Kanji, to the tip and back.

That was the moment I felt the skin on my fingertip ripping and quickly put it in my mouth to stop the bleeding. This thing was hella sharp. I stared at the tiny traces of my blood and noticed they were slowly disappearing. When I slid another finger over the spot, the metal was damp and not giving off liquid any longer.

The blade had absorbed my blood.

How the fuck did that even work? Had it been treated with a quirk? Was there blood of every person Deku had cut up in it? Did I even want to know that? What kind of sick fucking person would want a blade like that?!

I turned away from the knife and covered my mouth with the back of my hand. I felt like puking. When I had calmed down, I fiddled my phone out of my pocket and searched for videos on how to handle a damn butterfly knife. Keep friends close and enemies closer, right?

I spent the rest of the afternoon learning simple tricks from the internet. That shit wasn't actually that hard, but the way Deku used his knife was on another level. Precisely said, on a level I didn't want to reach. Just because I wanted to be the best at everything I did, it didn't mean I wanted to learn how to-

You get my point, don'tcha?

Upon researching that thing and its traits further, I found out that it had to have been treated with a quirk, since there was no liquid absorbing metal and that this thing wasn't even legal. Standing ovations for my sociopathic childhood friend, he had turned from a total goody two-shoes to a legit criminal.

Jeez motherfucking.

Around 4.30 pm, someone rang the doorbell. I answered the door and was greeted by shitty hairs shark grin. "Hey Bakugou. Can we talk?" I stared down at him with a dismissive glare. "What about?!" Kirishima sighed. "Bakugou, you dumped my ass for being worried about you. I demand an explanation."

I crossed my arms and shoved one foot behind the door, ready to close it any time. "What makes you think you can fucking pose demands, huh?!" Kirishima's expression became desperate. "Come on. Let's talk about everything calmly." "Well, what if I don't fucking want to?!"

Kirishima furrowed his eyebrows. "Can you stop acting like a seven-year-old?!" "Can you stop acting like an oblivious fucking idiot?!" I snorted. "Oh, sorry not fucking sorry, you are one!" Then I took a step back, slammed the door shut and leaned against it. I could hear Kirishima exhale outside heavily.

-------3rd person POV-------

While Kirishima still stood in front of the door, hoping his classmate would open up again, another person came up behind him. "Kirishima. Didn't expect to see you here." The addressed boy turned around to find himself face to face with Midoriya. "Oh, hi Midoriya. What are you-"

He broke off when Midoriya shoved him to the side with surprising force. "Stay put for a moment, redhead." Then Midoriya walked up to the door and knocked. Bakugous voice came from inside. "Fuck off, shitty hair!" He didn't bat an eye. "Not shitty hair, shitty nerd here. Open up."

No reaction came. Midoriya sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I said open up. Kacchan." "What you gonna do if I don't, huh?!" Midoriyas silence said more than a thousand words. And Bakugou opened the door. "The hell you want?!" His expression was tense and hostile.

Midoriya snickered lightly. "Calm your tits, I won't eat you." "And what kind of gay ass comment is that again?!" Bakugou snarled. The black-haired male's expression dropped immediately. "Haven't we been here before? Do you wanna provoke me again? Do we need another Friday afternoon?"

Kirishima wondered what that was supposed to mean and suddenly noticed both of the males in front of him were rather beat up. Bakugou had several bandaids in his face and the knuckles of his right hand were bandaged. Midoriyas knuckles were scraped up, he had scratches over his right eye and a split lip.

Bakugou just growled, making Midoriya sigh. "Hand Shichan over and I'm gone." Half a minute later, Midoriya contently put his knife away, while Bakugou slammed the front door shut once more. Then the green-eyed boy turned to Kirishima with an uninterpretable expression. "So?"

For some reason, Kirishima was suddenly scared of the boy with the knife.