The next day, after classes had ended and the halls had settled into their usual post-academic hum, Shigaraki stood outside Mina's door again.
He stared at the wood like it might explode.
'I'm going to regret this,' he thought.
But he knocked anyway.
Reluctantly.
Softly.
Like the door might judge him.
It opened.
Mina screamed. Again.
Shigaraki groaned. "I literally told you yesterday."
Mina blinked. "OH! YAY! COME IN!"
She grabbed his arm and yanked him inside like he was a long-lost makeover project.
Kirishima was already there.
Sitting cross-legged on Mina's bed, casually munching on a protein bar like this was his second home.
Shigaraki raised an eyebrow.
Suspicious.
But he let it go.
Mina clapped her hands and spun dramatically.
"Okay! Welcome to your official glow-up training arc!"
Shigaraki blinked. "You named it?"
Mina nodded proudly. "Yup. It's called—Operation: Mystery Chic Sparkle Redemption."
Shigaraki stared. "Ummmm….…"
Kirishima gave him a sympathetic shrug. "Just roll with it, man."
Mina pulled out a glittery clipboard and flipped it around to show the list:
————-
Operation: Mystery Chic Sparkle Redemption™
1. Dance Lessons 💃
- "So you don't crush her feet or look like a haunted mannequin."
2. Shopping Trip 🛍️
- "We're finding your look. No hoodies allowed."
3. Posture & Presence Training🧍♂️
- "You gotta walk like you own the room, not like you're avoiding eye contact with it."
4. Facial Expression Practice 😐➡️😏
- "You don't have to smile, but you do need to look like you're not planning a murder."
5. (Mina's Favorite) Makeover Session💄
- "Hair. Skin. Outfit. Aura. We're transforming you into the mysterious heartthrob you were always meant to be."
————-
Shigaraki stared at the list like it was written in another language.
"This feels illegal."
Mina grinned. "It's emotionally illegal. But fashionably necessary."
Kirishima fist-bumped him. "You got this, bro."
Shigaraki sighed.
'This is going to be the weirdest week of my life.'
Mina clapped her hands like a game show host.
"First step—Dance Lessons! 💃"
Shigaraki stared at her like she'd just declared war.
"I don't dance."
"Yea, no shucks! That's why you're here!"
He sighed and pulled out the buff, reinforced gloves—the only ones that could suppress his quirk without disintegrating the floor. They looked like they belonged to an industrial worker, not a ballroom trainee.
Mina frowned.
"Those are… hideous."
"They're necessary."
"Fine. But we're fixing that later."
Kirishima stood up, cracking his knuckles like he was about to enter a dance battle.
"Alright, first—watch and learn."
He held out a hand to Mina.
She took it with a dramatic flourish, bowing slightly as if they were stepping into a spotlight.
📀 The Demonstration Dance — Kiri x Mina Edition
The music came on—something jazzy, upbeat with a warm tempo. Kirishima's feet slid forward on the hardwood like he'd done this a thousand times.
- Step One: He stepped left, guiding Mina to mirror him with her right, setting a gentle sway to their hips in sync.
- Step Two: A backward pull followed—Kirishima drew her in with a palm to her shoulder blade and spun her out, releasing and re-catching her hand as Mina twirled with ease.
- Step Three: He transitioned into a side sweep, his hand shifting beneath her elbow, turning her gracefully with her free arm extended like a ribbon.
- Step Four: Mina giggled, trusting his lead as he took a firm yet gentle grip at her waist, and they stepped into a crossover pattern.
- Step Five: The moment paused as he turned her sharply—but smoothly—and then—
The Dip.
Kirishima took three pivot steps, lowered his stance, and—like a ballroom prince in full adrenaline mode—spun her dramatically.
His palm pressed perfectly against her back, guiding her body into a deep dip.
Mina arched downward, her leg popped up with flair, her curls cascading back like an anime transformation sequence.
His other hand cradled hers midair, and the angle was cinematic perfection.
Mina combusted.
Squealing.
Kicking her feet.
Laughing like she'd just won Prom Queen and an Oscar at the same time.
"KIRI YOU'RE A LEGEND!"
Kirishima winked.
"I've got hidden talents."
Shigaraki blinked.
Sweat forming.
Gloves flexing.
'I'm going to die.'
📀 Kirishima's Show Dance Tutorial — Shigaraki vs. Rhythm
Kirishima cracked his neck, stepping back like a coach entering a championship match.
"Okay, bro. Your turn."
Shigaraki stepped forward, posture stiff, back rigid, gloves creaking like they were resisting movement on purpose. He looked less like a romantic lead and more like someone bracing for dental surgery.
"I feel like I'm walking into a trap."
Kirishima chuckled. "You are. A trap called 'personal growth.' Now—left foot first."
Shigaraki glanced down as if unsure which foot was left anymore.
---
🕺 Move One: The Introduction Walk
Kirishima gently pushed him into motion, leading with a soft rhythm.
"Easy. You're introducing your presence. No slouching. No looming."
Shigaraki's steps were heavy at first—every move calculated, mechanical.
Kirishima nudged his elbow. "Your arms aren't cursed weapons. They're guiding tools."
"I am stalking her emotionally," Shigaraki muttered.
Kirishima ignored that.
---
🕺 Move Two: The Connection Frame
"Lift your arm—yeah, just above shoulder height. Palm turned, fingers soft."
Shigaraki raised his arm like he was signaling to an approaching helicopter.
Kirishima grabbed his wrist and adjusted it.
"You're not summoning destruction. You're asking someone to trust you."
His gloves thumped against his chest as he formed the frame.
Kirishima moved into mock partner position, guiding Shigaraki's hand to the right spot on his shoulder blade.
"Feel that? That's your anchor. You hold her there—not too tight. Not like she's breakable. Just enough that she knows you've got her."
Shigaraki blinked.
'Physical contact without annihilation. Weird.'
---
🕺 Move Three: The Rhythm Glide
Kirishima led him forward, side-step, back-step, spin.
Slow. Steady. Never rushed.
Shigaraki mimicked, stumbling slightly on the turn.
"Whoa—not a horror pivot," Kirishima laughed. "Turn like the floor isn't afraid of you."
They tried again. This time, it was… passable.
The glide had structure. The arms didn't flail.
He still looked vaguely haunted, but the movement was there.
Kirishima pointed a finger. "Now imagine her in your arms. This isn't combat—it's chemistry."
Shigaraki paused.
His gloved hands clenched for a beat.
Then released.
---
Mina clapped.
"Okay! He's not dancing like an eldritch cryptid anymore! Progress!"
And then—
It was time.
Mina stepped forward, feet light, eyes gleaming, hands out like she was offering both trust and theatrical flair.
"Now try it with me."
Shigaraki froze.
He looked at her.
Then at Kirishima—
Who was already standing.
Arms crossed.
Jaw tight.
'Oh right. She's his girlfriend.'
Shigaraki's eyes dropped to his gloves.
'They'll hold. They have to hold.'
He reached out.
Took her hand.
His fingers were rigid. The glove material creaked softly, a reminder of everything he was trying not to be.
Kirishima narrowed his eyes.
Watching.
Judging.
Standing like he was about to throw hands with Shigaraki and the concept of ballroom etiquette.
---
🕺 First Contact: Step and Stumble
Shigaraki led with his left foot, hesitantly.
Mina followed. Their steps weren't exactly in sync, but she adjusted fast.
They swayed right—
Shigaraki's grip too firm.
Mina winced.
Kirishima stepped forward.
Shigaraki instantly lightened his touch.
"Sorry," he muttered.
They circled. Mina placed her free hand gently on his shoulder.
He flinched.
His entire body went stiff.
"You okay?" she whispered.
"Just not used to this," he said.
They attempted a spin.
---
🌀 Spin Attempt #1 — The Over-Twist
He guided Mina with a heavy hand.
She spun—too fast—
Her balance tilted—
He caught her—but clumsily.
His hand landed awkwardly below her shoulder, nearly on her ribcage.
Kirishima's eyes flared.
He took a step forward.
Mina giggled. "It's okay!"
Shigaraki cleared his throat, "That was… off."
---
🌀 Spin Attempt #2 — The Foot Fumble
This time his hand placement was better.
But his feet?
Not so much.
He pivoted in the wrong direction—his left foot tangled with Mina's right.
They bumped—Mina gasped—
Shigaraki staggered—
Kirishima moved like he was about to tackle someone.
"Still okay!" Mina insisted, holding back a laugh. "I've tripped on my own heels before, don't worry!"
---
🕺 Finally… a Flow
Shigaraki focused.
Posture straight.
Breath in.
He led the step.
Turned Mina.
Her hand spun lightly in his.
She twirled once—twice—
Her hair brushed his cheek.
And then—
She was in his arms.
He stared.
She looked up, breath shallow, smiling.
Kirishima took one step forward.
"That's close enough," he said, calm but very boyfriend-coded.
Mina laughed.
"Kiri, let him vibe. This is rehab!"
Shigaraki stepped back.
Respectfully.
Quickly.
And wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.
'This is harder than fighting heroes.'
🕺 Spin Drill Disaster — Shigaraki vs. Gravity
They cleared a space on Mina's floor, pushing aside a fuzzy beanbag chair, two sketchpads, and what looked suspiciously like a glitter cannon set to explode at dramatic plot points.
Kirishima stood center stage, chest squared, eyes locked on Shigaraki like this was the most intense dance battle of his life.
"Okay bro—watch carefully. You step forward, anchor your back foot, guide her with your left palm, and let her rotate around you. Smooth. Steady. Think of it like turning pages in a book—not flipping a table."
Shigaraki nodded, eyes focused but internally panicked, mentally rewriting his instincts: 'Don't destroy the room. Don't destroy her. Don't destroy the moment.'
—-
🌀 Attempt #1 — The Lunge of Doom
He stepped forward.
Too wide. Too fast. Almost like he was launching into a sparring round.
His left arm swung out—heavy, tense.
Mina spun—kind of.
Her balance was off, her feet tangled. She twirled like a rogue beyblade and bumped straight into Shigaraki's chest with a startled yelp.
"Oops—"
Kirishima flinched like he'd just watched her trip into a minefield.
"Bro. She's not a battle axe. Watch the launch velocity."
Shigaraki rubbed the back of his neck.
"Noted."
---
🌀 Attempt #2 — The Glove Slip Disaster
He tightened his stance.
Feet closer together. Arms slightly softer.
This time, the setup felt better.
He guided Mina forward—hand at her waist, right angle, light pressure.
She turned halfway—
Mid-spin—
His glove slipped.
Just barely.
But it was enough.
Her center of gravity tipped.
She bumped into his shoulder—
They teetered—
Kirishima lunged forward.
His quirk activated with a crack, his whole body hardened, stepping in between like he was about to intercept a missile.
"Okay. That's it. Dance lessons over."
His voice was clipped. Protective. Absolutely 110% glitter knight mode.
Shigaraki raised his hands.
"It was an accident—"
But Mina was already giggling.
She pushed gently between them, calming the tension with a chirpy voice.
"Kiri, relax! He caught me! I'm good!"
Kirishima glared at Shigaraki like he was evaluating his entire soul.
But backed off.
Reluctantly.
Still activated.
Mina turned back to Shigaraki.
"Try again. That was kinda romantic in a 'falling-through-a-rooftop-window' sort of way."
Shigaraki muttered,
"I'm decaying this moment emotionally."
---
🌀 Attempt #3 — The Redemption Spin
Kirishima's coach tone returned—barely.
"Feet shoulder-width. Don't lean. Don't throw. Let her rotate herself. You're the guide. Not the wind."
Shigaraki nodded, jaw clenched, pulse racing.
He stepped forward.
Feet grounded.
Core steady.
His left hand lifted—gloved but gentle—
And found Mina's hand again.
"Ready?" he asked quietly.
She smiled, already shifting into motion.
He guided her.
- No lunge.
- No flailing.
- His arm curved just right, elbow relaxed.
- Mina spun—clean, deliberate.
Her hair swept the air.
Her hoodie hem flared like ink blossoming in water.
She twirled right into his arms.
Breathless. Grinning.
Shigaraki didn't speak.
Didn't twitch.
Kirishima stood nearby, quirk humming under his skin.
Like he was ready to tackle fate.
But he didn't need to.
Because Shigaraki held her.
Safely.
Correctly.
Kirishima exhaled.
Clapped once.
"There we go. You didn't decimate reality."
Shigaraki blinked.
A little stunned.
'I didn't mess it up.'