kiribaku oneshots

🎂Competition🎂

"What the hell, Shitty Hair?!" The boy next to me yells.

"What?" I ask, my voice a ghost compared to his.

"You hit me in the fucking shoulder with your flute, asshole!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

"Tch. Whatever."

"Okay! Pull out The Thunderer!" My band teacher says. Everyone groans. Even Bakugou, the best flute player in the whole damn world. We all pull out The Thunderer, preparing our instruments. The band teacher gives a count off, then start us off.

I squeak on the first fucking note.

I put my flute down on my lap, hating myself for even letting that happen.

"Hey, Kirishima, it's fine. Just get it together before the competition." Bakugou whispers to me.

Oh, yeah. The competition.

So, basically, my school band enrolled in a band competition. One twist; we had to combine with a band from another school. Bakugou, the best flute player I've ever met, is from the band from another school we have to combine with.

I pick up my flute again and play.

"Hey, Shitty Hair, you keep playing an A flat when it's an A natural." Bakugou tells me.

"Oh, do I? Sorry, I get them mixed up sometimes." I scratch the back of my neck.

"It's not that hard." Bakugou shows me the fingering to an A natural. "Just read the fucking key signature."

"I-I do..." I mutter. I raise my hand. "Hey, uh, can you remind me how to do the trills?" I ask the band teacher.

"You are really hopeless." Bakugou says.

"Says you! You're the best flute player I've ever met! This stuff must be easy for you. I'm trying. That's what matters, right?" I rebuttal.

"Tch. Then try at my house." He tears off a piece of paper from something, and scribbles something down on it, then hands it to me. It has his address and phone number. "Meet me when you can. I'm not losing this competition because your sorry ass can't play trills."

"Rude..." I mumble under my breath. I start taking apart my flute and cleaning it.

~~

Me: hey, i think im outside? i dont know

Bakuboi: just wait a sec, ill be out in a minute

I wait outside of the house I'm standing in front of. It's fairly big, and seems expensive. Soon, the door opens, revealing Bakugou.

"So, you brought your flute and music? I was prepared to lend you mine, but it seems you aren't as stupid as I thought." Bakugou says.

"Hey! There's no need to be mean!"

"Whatever. Just get inside so I can teach you things you should already know."

"Damn." I whisper, walking inside. It's really nice. "So, what do your parents do?"

"Each other, every Saturday night."

"No, like, for a living?"

"You're gonna ignore my last comment?"

"Yeah, 'cause it's the same with me."

"Oh, shit." Bakugou's eyes widen for a second. "Well, anyway, my dad is some kind of fashion designer shit, I don't know, I don't pay attention."

"That's cool." I shrug.

"Whatever. Come on." Bakugou starts walking up the stairs. I follow him. "Why don't you have your shitty hair up today? You had it up during band."