Chapter Text
The shrill croak of cicadas echoes through the air as the trees sway gently in the hot summer breeze. Birds dive through the cloudless sky with abandon, while far below the sprawling forest rustles with life. It was as quiet and calm as a forest could be- that is, until a branch is thrown against a tree and promptly snaps in half.
“Stupid Sora,” a boy grumbles, sending a rock flying with a well-placed kick. “Can’t even do his practice problems right, saying my quirk’s gonna suck…”
“You’re so stupid, Baka-gou! ” The new nickname brought laughter from across the playground, even to those sitting in the far corners and pretending not to listen. Their snickers and jeers only fanned his anger, and he let out a furious screech. The main one, Sora, just laughed again. “What are you going to do about it, huh? Get angry? Again? Are you gonna go home crying when your dad can’t even hear you-” Bakugo’s punch sent Sora’s head reeling, his cry of pain echoed loud. He tackled the smaller boy to the ground, attacking any exposed area with single-minded fervor. The onlookers backed away slowly, eyes wide and fear written plain on their faces. Bakugo bared his teeth in a feral grin that was completely at odds with the tears dripping down his face, and he didn’t stop clawing, even when a teacher had to grab his chest, pulling him away-
And now he was sitting on a bench outside the office, hushed voices whispering in a hallway, adults talking about something he probably shouldn’t be around to hear-
“-He’s already so violent, what do you think it’s going to be like when his quirk comes in?”
“I have no idea, but this is the reason why we need anti-villain programs, so we can get at it early-“
Bakugo feels his throat tightening and wipes his eyes furiously. No, he was not going to cry, because heroes don’t cry when they get hurt. And he was going to be a hero, he was-
“You-you’re crazy. It’d be safer for everybody else if you’d just turn out quirkless-“
The sobs wrench their way out of his throat before he can stop them, and no matter how hard his fists hit the ground they just keep coming.
“Or maybe,” Sora sneered, “You’ll just become a villain.”
Bakugo yells something unintelligible, hurling a stone towards the dark undergrowth. It shoots through the air, colliding with a branch and sending a torrent of leaves fluttering to the ground.
A long, drawn out keen of pain stops him in his tracks.
The many warnings and comments of his mother swirl around his mind. They always said that there were dangerous animals in the forest, but the biggest thing he’d ever seen was a Sika deer, and he was pretty sure they didn’t sound like that.
Fear, thick and cloying, creeps up his throat, but he squashes it down angrily. Whatever it was, he was not scared.
Taking a cautious step forward, Bakugo doesn’t notice the fallen twig until it’s snapping underneath his shoe, the sound seemingly magnified by the sudden silence.
A flash of movement appears in the tree, and Bakugo startles. A shadowed figure darts amongst the branches, small and so fast he can barely even see it. With a curse that his mom would smack him upside the head for even thinking , Bakugo sprints after it.
"HEY! WAIT!" The figure is already a good distance away, leaping from tree to tree with little effort. It’s too fast, and he’s never gone this far into the forest, how is he going to get home-
Bakugo’s sent sprawling to the ground when one foot catches beneath a raised root, leaving his shorts covered with dirt and spots of blood, which drips from below his elbow.
He was so close, and now his mom was going to get even more mad at him for running away and getting hurt, if he could even get home at all.
“Stupid green thing!” he yells into the empty canopy. “You made me hurt my arm!”
There’s no answer, only the rustle of leaves and the distant call of birds. The boy sniffles again, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. Here he was, crying over a scratch, when he was supposed to be a hero.
Furiously wiping his face, anger bubbles to the surface with an ease he’s rapidly becoming accustomed to. This was stupid. He hates Sora, and those dumb teachers who got mad at him , but worst of all he hates that he even cares . He shouldn’t care, he was cool, he knew he was, but then someone said something like-
“Go away, Baka-gou! O-or I’ll call the teacher-!”
“Yeah, leave us alone, you- you villain!”
There was an almost proud look on their faces when they said that, like he was some bully that they finally had the courage to stand up to. But he wasn’t, he hadn’t so much as touched them, and they still said it. He knew he wasn’t always nice- his mom got mad at him for it often enough- he knew , yet it didn’t make it hurt any less. Was his quirk really so bad that everyone thought he was-
But everything comes screeching to a halt the foliage rustles, and a long, green limb slowly emerges.
Bakugo stays stock still as the rest of it crawls out, all glimmering scales and sharp pointy things-
His breath hitches, and he whispers word, the obvious word, the only word that could ever describe the creature before him.
“Dragon.”
He might be gaping, just a little, because there’s no way it could be anything else- not with its long reptile face, small spiraling horns, and giant, bony wings folded tightly against its side.
Green , is the second word that Bakugo thinks, and it is. Green everywhere, scales and wings and only a little lighter shade on its face and darker on its belly, with little stripes along its back and arms, too faded to really make out. And its eyes . They’re giant, wide, and circular and, true to the rest of it, green.
No wonder Bakugo couldn’t see it before, it looked like every shade in the forest’s summer palette. But the dragon was small- hardly taller than Bakugo himself- and its feet (claws? talons?) look way too big for it, like when he walks around in his dad’s work shoes. Catching himself staring, Bakugo straightens. His eyes widen, though, as he realizes that it’s staring back .
He knows from one of those documentaries that Dad was always watching that you should never look at an animal in the eyes, but… they were just so big. And green . And they were looking at him. None of the animals- or people, he realized- had eyes that looked like this.
Bakugo’s own narrow, regarding the creature warily as the rest of dragon lore, namely the roasting-and-eating-princesses stuff, cycled in. It had halted a good distance away, sitting down almost like a dog but never breaking eye contact. It didn’t look like it wanted to hurt him- he hadn’t once seen any teeth or claws, even on its… feet, and given how fast it’d moved through the trees he had no doubt that it could catch him if it really wanted to. No, it was just… there. Watching him.
“What do you want?” His voice was angry, but the dragon gave no mention of understanding what he’d said or responding to the hostility in his tone, just tilting its head ever-so-slightly to the side.
His brows furrowed. “What do you want? ” It blinked.
“No, I chased you, and now you came back and- do you wanna eat me?! Is THAT why you- WHY ARE YOU STILL STARING AT ME!?! ”
He was definitely yelling, and by this time animals had usually ran away or started growling, but it- it- it did nothing.
He was about ready to chuck something again when it slowly raised a hand(?), its five digits (thumb included) twisting and pointing and-
Holy crap.
The dragon tilted its head, going slightly slower as it repeated the perfectly fluid fingerspelling.
Hello.
“Holy crap,” he says, pretty sure that the entire forest heard his jaw drop, because the dragon. Knew how to sign.
Bakugo Masaru had always known that, because of his unique quirk, he would eventually lose his hearing. And since none of his family had strengthened ears or whatever to go with their quirks, Katsuki grew up learning sign with his mom, since there was every possibility he’d have to use it one day too. Which is why, when the corners of the dragon’s mouth tugged up in a weird reptile-y way and it fingerspelled Hello, again, Bakugo’s mouth managed to make a feeble sound that was definitely not a squeak.
It was his first time talking to a dragon, and it was signing to him.
Belatedly realizing that he was probably catching flies, his jaw snapped shut, hands shaking in his haste to say something- something cool. He was talking to a living dragon, he was totally cool.
You who be?
Bakugo refrains from throwing himself into the large patch of briars a few feet away, but only just.
Its weird smile (how did it do that?) gets impossibly bigger, and still without showing teeth, as Bakugo’s face turns itself into a pretty accurate representation of a tomato.
My name’s Midoriya Izuku. Hi, it, he, signs again, acting like this was the best thing to happen today, in his normal life as a dragon. To be fair, this was the first time Bakugo had ever met a dragon, and his brain was still mostly in shock.
B- his hands falter, Bakugo Katsuki. Me. Hi.
The dragon’s- Midoriya’s- wings start shaking, and his weird smile-thing gets twisted, and-
He was laughing at him.
All shyness and whatever awe he’d possessed was pushed away in favor of indignity. “OI! Why’re you laughing at me, you big dumb…” he gestures at the lithe, coiled figure that was mostly claws and spikes. “...dragon.” It didn’t sound much like an insult, now that he thought about it.
Midoriya doesn’t seem to care, he just keeps looking happy , weirdly reminiscent of one of those giant fluffy dogs that his mom would always point out on the street, looking dumb and drooling everywhere.
But then his smile tugs down, and he was signing again.
I don’t really ever meet other people, and my mom tells me to never, ever talk to strangers. But then you got hurt, and I…
Wait a minute. “Am I the first person you ever talked to?”
Midoriya’s wings sag, just a bit, and his claws twitch.
No. I talk to my mom, too.
“Yeah, but isn’t she, like, a dragon?”
At the mention of a chance to talk about his parent, Midoriya is back to full-force dumb face.
No! She’s a person like you, and she knows about lots of stuff and makes really good katsudon and has green hair, just like me.
Bakugo almost points out that he has scales, not hair, but Midoriya’s on a roll, hand-claw-things wild with excitement.
She doesn’t turn into a dragon, but she has a really cool quirk that lets her float things, and sometimes she floats me, and-
At Bakugo’s blank look, he slowly lowers both hands, looking… guilty, if a dragon could.
She… I think my dad was like me. A dragon. But Mom never talks about him, so I don’t ask.
With the thought of other dragons comes a question that Bakugo can’t believe he hasn’t asked yet.
“Can you breathe fire?!” He demands, and Midoriya angles his head, looking confused.
Um… no? I can’t even fly yet.
Bakugo’s eyes widen, because how had he forgotten about flying. His scowl deepens as something occurs to him.
How old are you? he signs.
Midoriya looks slightly uncomfortable for a second, and Bakugo wonders just how angry his mom gets about strangers when he signs, Six.
It only takes a minute for his brain to reconcile the fact that the actual, living, not-yet-fire-breathing dragon that he found is the same age as him.
This is the coolest thing ever.
“I’m six too,” he declares proudly, and Midoriya’s eyes go wide.
Really?! Does that mean- do you go to school?
He signs the word with something like reverence, and Bakugo’s expression closes off, as much as his young face can. It’s Midoriya, looking vaguely worried but still curious, still interested, (not running, a mean little voice whispers) that fuels his next words.
Yeah, he signs with all the confidence he can muster, and they all think I’m the coolest, because I’m going to become the number one hero someday.
Midoriya doesn’t notice the way Bakugo’s hands shake as he replies excitedly.
Really?! That’s so awesome! I mean, I haven’t seen any heroes in person before, but I read and watch all about them! They’re all SUPER cool, but… he fiddles with his talons, eyes going bright and dumb-face reaching extreme proportions. But my favorite’s All Might.
Bakugo’s scowl fades slightly at the mention of the hero, and he forgets a little about his school as they talk, both getting progressively more animated as they recognize a fellow super fan.
⧫ ⧫ ⧫
So far, what he knew was this:
Midoriya Izuku- a living, breathing dragon- lives in a forest with his mom. He’s six, likes all things heroes but especially loves All Might, his favorite food is katsudon, he can sign (maybe, just possibly even better than Bakugo), and he likes to sit in trees. A lot.
And, he’s apparently not old enough to do cool stuff like fly or breathe fire (lame), but he can move through the forest faster than Bakugo’s able to see, which is pretty awesome.
And for some reason that Katsuki has yet to actually grasp, Midoriya thinks he’s cool. It feels… nice, being looked up to, being the reason someone was happy or excited. Even if it’s a dragon, especially because it’s a dragon, there’s absolutely no way that Katsuki’s going to correct him.
Midoriya’s just getting to talking about his figurine collection (how did he possibly get so many when he lives in the forest? ) when Bakugo chances a look up, and curses. Midoriya looks mildly scandalized, but when he sees the darkening color of the sky, lets out a huff of surprise.
I didn’t know we were out here so long, he signs, but Bakugo seems not to notice, staring sullenly at the ground.
“Do you know how to get out of the forest? I, um… should get home,” he says gruffly, making it clear that he’d rather do anything but.
And if Midoriya’s body language says anything, he feels the same way.
D-do you have to go?
“Yeah. My mom- my mom will be… ” Bakugo glares.
Midoriya reaches out a hand as if to say something, but drops it. He just nods and moves to turn away, but not before Bakugo makes out the sparkle of tears clinging to his eyes.
Oh no.
“Friends,” he blurts, partly to make Midoriya stop crying, and partly because he’d been thinking about it since he saw Midoriya sign Hello.
The dragon’s head whips around, and Bakugo’s face and ears turn a blotchy red. “I-I wanna be friends. With you. I guess.” The sentence devolves into unintelligible mumbling, his face getting warmer where it’s hidden in his shirt. But then he looks up, and- oh.
Midoriya’s beaming. Not his weird, lip-less smile thing he does all the time, but one where his entire, admittedly razor-sharp grin is exposed, baby teeth or not. The setting sun frames him from the back, beams of light bouncing off every scale and making him glow. For a moment, not even long to be called a full second, Midoriya’s horns and smile are switched out for someone else’s, a giant golden figure awash in sunlight with a smile just as bright- and then it’s gone. He blinks, shrugs, and writes it off as a trick of the light.
“You can call me Katsuki, if you want,” he offers, but Midoriya looks vaguely doubtful.
That’s too hard to spell all the time, and Bakugo shrugs, because he’s got a point, and having to individually spell Bakugo every time wasn’t much better.
The dragon traces figures in the dirt, thinking, until he looks up with an excited chirp.
I know! I know what to call you!
“What.” Bakugo regards him warily.
He looks so proud, giant eyes large and dewy, and that’s probably the only reason Bakugo agrees when the reptile suggests Kacchan.
Something occurs to him, though, and Bakugo frowns.
“What about you? If you getta’ call me Kacchan, I want to call you something, too.”
Midoriya looks down, probably thinking of another weird nickname, and one of his wings move back, exposing the small patch of dirt where he’d been scratching.
“You can write Kanji?”
The dragon fidgets at the slightly impressed edge to his voice.
Yeah, he signs. My mom makes sure to teach me everything at home, and so far I can write my name-
“It kinda looks like the word ‘Deku,’” he interrupts. “Like, the word useless or something,” He points at the character in question.
“I could call you…” he trails off, the sentence dissolving on his lips. He looks over to the creature in question, realizing that no, he really couldn’t. Even if he couldn’t fly or breathe fire or anything just yet, nothing about Midoriya even remotely said “Useless”.
He was a dragon , and was definitely the coolest person Bakugo had ever met, dumb-face or not.
“How ‘bout your first name, then?”
O-oh. Midoriya signed, hands stuttering only a little, looking absurdly pleased. Okay.
Bakugo looked down at the Kanji, trying to make out the word.
“Izu-Izuku. Izuku?” He looked to the dragon for reassurance, and he nodded.
Izuku.
A burst of warmth balloons in his chest, and he doesn’t even fight the grin tugging upwards on his lips, looking up and finding a matching expression on Izuku’s face.
Oh, he realized. It’s the dumb-face.
And even if he’d never admit to it afterwards, Bakugo lets his smile stretch wider, wondering if he wasn’t the only one who’d found themselves with a friend for the very first time.