(Kirishima POV)
Kirishima didn't mean to stare.
Didn't mean to trace his fingers lightly over Mina's hand, watching the way her skin glowed softly in the dim light of the room.
Didn't mean to let his thumb brush along her knuckles, feeling the warmth still lingering there even as she slept.
But he did.
He couldn't help it.
Mina had always been bright, always stood out, always carried herself like she was meant to be something vibrant, something unforgettable, something meant to pull people in without even trying.
And Kirishima—for as long as he could remember—had always been drawn to her.
He swallowed, exhaling softly, watching the way her breathing stayed slow, even, peaceful.
His fingers traced up—light, hesitant—toward her wrist, then higher, barely brushing over her forearm, then toward her shoulder, then—
Then he realized what he was doing.
Kirishima froze, his pulse hammering, his mind catching up too late.
Because somehow, without meaning to—without thinking—his hand had moved up to her face.
Just barely.
Just enough for his fingertips to brush against her cheek, soft and steady, not enough to wake her but enough to make his entire chest feel too tight, too full of things he wasn't sure how to say yet.
He swallowed again, dragging his hand away slowly, pressing his palm against his own chest instead, trying to calm the way his heartbeat was completely out of control.
Mina stirred slightly beside him, shifting just a little closer, exhaling a quiet sigh, but she didn't wake.
Didn't notice.
Didn't see the way Kirishima was completely wrecked over something so simple, so small, but so undeniably real.
Kirishima inhaled deep—steady, careful, grounding himself.
He whispered, so softly, so carefully, just loud enough that no one but himself could hear—
"You have no idea how long I've felt this way."
And this time—he didn't pull away.
(Mina POV)
Mina stirred.
Not because of some big movement. Not because of noise.
But because something felt different.
Warm.
Steady.
Close.
She blinked slowly, her body waking up piece by piece, adjusting to the soft light filtering into her room.
And then—she noticed it.
Not just the warmth.
Not just the comfortable weight of the blankets.
Not just the subtle awareness that she wasn't alone.
But the way Kirishima's hand was still resting against hers—loosely, gently, like he hadn't wanted to let go.
Mina felt her pulse pick up.
She stayed still for a second, processing.
Then—without thinking—she shifted just slightly, pressing her fingers against his, intertwining them properly.
Kirishima exhaled deeply.
Mina froze.
She had no idea if he was still asleep.
Had no idea if he had just felt what she did.
But suddenly—his thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow, careful, deliberate.
Her chest tightened.
Oh.
Oh.
This was real.
She finally—finally—turned her head, meeting his eyes.
Kirishima was already awake.
Already watching her.
Already too close, too warm, too steady, too much.
And neither of them pulled away.
(Kirishima POV)
Kirishima had never felt like this before.
Not during training.
Not during fights.
Not even during the hardest, most nerve-wracking moments of his life.
Because this?
This was different.
Mina was right there, staring at him, waiting—not pressuring, not teasing, just watching.
And Kirishima—Kirishima felt like his entire chest was about to cave in.
His grip on the blanket tightened slightly, his fingers still brushing against hers, his heart still refusing to settle even after all the time they had already spent laying here.
Mina didn't move.
Didn't say anything.
She just let him process.
Let him breathe.
And somehow—somehow—he knew she already understood what was about to happen.
Kirishima swallowed, shifting just enough to lean closer, his voice quiet, nervous, but certain.
"...Can I kiss you?"
Mina blinked.
Slow. Steady.
Like she had been waiting for it.
Like she had already decided her answer before he even asked.
Then—she smiled.
Soft. Real. Undeniably her.
And she whispered—
"You better."
Kirishima exhaled sharply, something between a relieved laugh and full-blown disbelief, and—
He moved.
Mina was right in front of him, her lips parted just slightly, her breath warm, her expression soft—inviting, waiting, knowing.
Kirishima swallowed hard, his pulse hammering in his ears, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested against her blanket.
He wanted this to be perfect.
Not rushed.
Not impulsive.
Not something that disappeared into the chaos of everything else they had been through.
But something real.
Something undeniable.
Something that made sense in every way he had always imagined—but never dared believe could happen.
His hand moved first, slow, careful, brushing lightly against her cheek.
Mina's eyes fluttered closed for a second, her lips pressing together, her breath hitching just slightly under the weight of his touch.
Then—she leaned in.
Kirishima's chest tightened, his entire body feeling like it was caught in some impossible moment between anticipation and complete, overwhelming joy.
He tilted his head, barely, his thumb brushing over her jawline, feeling the warmth of her skin, the way she had always felt familiar—but suddenly felt like so much more.
Mina exhaled softly against his lips before they even met, and that single breath?
That single, tiny movement?
It wrecked him completely.
And then—they kissed.
Slow.
Steady.
Soft.
Not hesitant—but deliberate.
Mina's lips were warm, steady, everything he had imagined and more.
She didn't rush.
Didn't push forward too fast.
She just moved with him—like they had always known how, like this had always been waiting, like it was meant to happen just like this.
Kirishima's fingers curled into her hair, his other hand still resting on her cheek, holding her carefully, reverently, like she was something fragile and unbreakable all at once.
Mina shifted closer, sighing quietly into his mouth, her fingers tightening slightly against his arm, her body pressing forward just enough for Kirishima to lose himself completely.
And suddenly—he understood everything.
Why it had always been her.
Why this moment felt like something out of a dream—but more real than anything he had ever experienced.
Why, despite all the chaos, the teasing, the years of friendship—this had always been inevitable.
Mina pulled away slowly, her lips still just barely brushing against his, her smile small, almost knowing, as she whispered—
"You're a really good kisser."
Kirishima laughed—shaky, breathless, overwhelmed.
And then?
Then he kissed her again.
Because he wasn't letting this moment end just yet.
Not when his pulse was pounding, not when the warmth of Mina's lips was still lingering on his own, not when he could feel the weight of everything they had never said pressing into the space between them.
The first kiss had been careful, testing the waters, finding their rhythm.
But now?
Now, Kirishima was done holding back.
His hand slid up, fingers threading into Mina's hair, his grip firm but gentle, his body shifting forward instinctively, closing the space between them before he could think twice about it.
Mina gasped softly, her breath hitching just slightly, her lips parting again—but this time, Kirishima didn't hesitate.
He kissed her again—deeper, stronger, more certain.
There was no second-guessing now.
No wondering if this was okay.
Because it was.
Because Mina met him perfectly, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him in, tight, close, real, matching his movements like they had always known how.
Kirishima could barely breathe, but he didn't care.
His fingers traced down, pressing against the curve of her jaw, his other hand resting on her waist, holding her like he had been waiting for this forever.
Mina sighed against him, melting just slightly, her fingers curling against his chest, gripping onto his shirt like she was just as lost in this as he was.
The kiss deepened, slow but intense, deliberate, letting every unsaid feeling spill into the way their mouths moved together.
Kirishima had wanted this—always.
Had thought about it in the quiet moments, in the spaces between training, in the moments where Mina had grabbed his wrist to drag him somewhere without thinking twice, in the nights where they stayed up too late talking about everything and nothing.
And now?
Now he wasn't waiting anymore.
Mina pulled away only slightly, her forehead resting against his, her breath shaky, but her grip on him tight.
And then—she laughed.
Soft.
Breathless.
Entirely herself.
"You—" she whispered, voice still uneven, still catching up to what just happened.
Kirishima grinned, brushing his thumb over her cheek, feeling the way her skin heated slightly under his touch.
"I told you," he murmured, low, confident, sure in a way he had never been before.
Mina smiled, eyes still hazy, still holding onto this moment like she wasn't ready to let it go yet either.
And honestly?
Neither was he.