Chapter Text
Today, it’s Masaru’s turn to cook.
He carefully cuts the vegetables and weights every ingredient religiously. Pots are selected with great attention and he keeps a constant eye on the oven as he cooks, less he burns the food again. For Masaru is a wise man well aware of his own shortcomings.
Both him and his dear wife could set ice cream on fire, given the chance.
Katsuki would normally be the one cooking, as his son did not possess the skill to either make bland food or nearly kill the diners. Where he got it, Masaru is a bit uncertain. Mitsuki says it comes from her grandmother -the woman could filet an entire giant tuna on her own and make an amazing meal out of it.
Terrifying.
Does explain his knife handling, Masaru thinks with a hum as he uses a wooden spoon to mix the bubbling stew. It smells delicious -Katsuki helped make it, and left it up to him to make sure it didn’t burn while the boy did his homework upstairs. Masaru’s very grateful for his assistance.
He steps away-
-only to jolt when his foot lands on a tail.
At his feet, Missy lets out a loud, yapping cry of pain.
Masaru freezes.
Disaster. Horror. Masaru cringes as two enraged shouts echo from opposite sides of the house like twin landmines going off:
“WHO FUCKING STEPPED ON THE DOG?!”
.
.
.
Hound Dog’s office is stuffy and disgusting.
One thing Katsuki will give him is that it is nice in the spatial sense. It’s large, with a firm couch shoved on one side and a desk on the other. There’s a lot of shelves to the left of the couch. A cupboard and filing cabinet behind the desk. Given the size of the room, about two thirds of Katsuki’s classroom, Hound Dog made the best with what he had.
But this is not counting the yick factor on every fucking surface of the room.
There’s pictures of what Katsuki can only assume are former students…everywhere. He thinks he recognizes a few of them -that means they’re prominent Pro-Heroes. They’re all smiling in what looks like photos taken after graduation. Some are in Yuuei uniform. Others are wearing their hero suits. It’s a grand display of wide smiles and happy faces and it's flat out revolting.
He shifts on the sofa, crossing his legs. Tries to not eye the pile of pillows next to him, and the fluffy quilt draped over the back of the couch. It looks like it's made of wool. Probably something his old man would like. Soft and nice. Disgusting.
Red eyes turn away from the revolting office to the owner of said room. Hound Dog watches him like a hawk from his desk.
“So.”
“So.” Katsuki parrots back, because he’s out of fucks to give.
“...let’s pick up where we left off last time.”
Great .
Katsuki gives the window a side glance. Hound Dog not so subtly leans over and flicks the lock on it, prompting a glare from the blond.
“- not Midoriya Izuku.” Hound Dog clarifies at Katsuki’s hiss, because the last time he’d approached the topic, Katsuki tried flinging a chair out the window, set the desk on fire and made a run for it. The fact his teacher didn’t even blink or truly chastise him for the property damage still has him baffled.
Then again this is Yuuei.
Hound Dog’s probably used to it. Not Katsuki’s particular blend of chaos, per say, but close enough.
“...let’s talk about your classmates instead.” Window, or door? Hmm. So much choice. Katsuki debates which one would cause the most property damage. He’s already broken the window once, so he might as well spice it up, perhaps? Or he could just go for the ceiling… “How are they faring since the incident?”
Katsuki fights the urge to grimace. He shrugs instead.
“...they’re fine?”
Hound Dog scribbles something down. The noise echoes through the quiet room. Katsuki wants to make him eat the fucking pen.
“Have any of them come to talk to you about it?”
Katsuki squints. “Isn’t that your job?”
“True.” Hound Dog agrees with that ever patient tone that somehow settles Katsuki’s bristles, and he does not like how well it works. “But as your classmates, wouldn’t they confide in you first? At least, those who feel comfortable speaking about it?” The Pro-Hero points out, and Katsuki reluctantly agrees with his logic. “Your friends?”
Until that .
Katsuki makes a face.
“Friends? Ew. They’re classmates.”
Hound Dog hums. “I see.”
Scribble. Scribble. Katsuki wants to eat that fucking pen, if it gets the Pro-Hero to stop taking notes. He squirms in his seat, leaning back on the couch as he bites out:
“I don’t know why they would get so fucked by what happened anyways. They're not civilians.” Katsuki argues. “They should be fine.”
“Hmm.”
Katsuki doesn’t fucking like that hmm.
It’s the bad kind of hmm.
It’s the, frankly, horrible kind of hmm. It’s tentative and thoughtful and clearly Hound Dog is thinking something that’s flying over Katsuki’s head and crashing somewhere in the Pacific with the same force as the meteorite that cursed the earth by taking away the dinosaurs.
“So you think they can take it? You trust them not to be bothered by how you act?”
Katsuki stares. “Trust them-?!” He huffs, raising an eyebrow. “I don't even know their names! They're just extras!”
“Extras?”
Katsuki wants to scream.
“I think we need to approach this from the start.” Hound Dog starts, voice soft and kind and doing nothing to stop the foreboding feeling in Katsuki’s chest. “We can begin by discussing your first week at Yuuei…”
Katsuki does scream.
.
.
.
Katsuki is one of the most feared students in his semester. He’s near the top of the class, matching blow for blow recommended students and coming out on top on most days. He’s someone to be feared and one day, he will be unstoppable -
Lick.
“Stop licking me you stupid bitch!”
...lick.
-today’s not that day, though.
Missy pauses at his hissed demand, the tiniest, pickiest little tip of her tongue poking out between her black lips. Katsuki looks down at her with a mighty glare.
…and feels himself crumbling like a weak little bitch.
“Why are you doing this to me,” he chokes out at her as he holds her closer, hating the fucking fuzzy feelings in his gut.
When he burrows his face into the growing mane, she feels just as fluffy and fuzzy and cozy as cotton.
Katsuki is a weak little bitch.
.
.
.
Despite all the hair-pulling moments, Katsuki likes to think that his time at Yuuei is turning out quite nicely.
He has bad times.
He has good times.
“Bakugo, come be on our team!”
On the opposite team, Deku looks terrified.
This is one of the good times.
.
.
.
“Kacchan, wait -I said wait wait wait - GHA!”
It’s the small things in life, you know?
.
.
.
There’s one thing that hasn’t changed since that first week, though.
If anything, it has intensified.
Katsuki hopes All Might’s not stupid enough not to notice everyone noticing. Deku? Yeah, the freckle bearing bastard that crawled out of the murkiest hellscape of the hero forums probably won’t notice that they noticed, but All Might is the Number One Hero.
Surely he knows what it looks like, right?
No one in their class, not even the purple grape kid misses the way All Might lingers at the end of his classes to talk to Deku -or the times that they can be caught talking to each other in hallways, the parking lot, the gardens, the cafeteria, after practice and during practice-
Well.
In short? It’s fucking blatant that All Might has taken a absolute shine on Deku, and Katsuki doesn’t know whether he should throw up or start planning a intricate plan to get rid of the bodies.
Not wanting to damage his prospects as future Number One, he shuts his mouth and tries to ignore it all. His fellow students, however? They do not. Raccoon Eyes lives for this kind of thing, as it turns out.
The speculation is rampant across the classroom, not like Katsuki is trying to keep up to date with it.
He’s just stuck with it.
Like it’s a leech on his back he can’t get off. Or a nasty mole. He’s just stuck living with the fact All Might has taken Deku under his wing for some mysterious reason that is beyond him and that’s fine , he’s fine, it's not like it makes him want to toss them both out a window.
“Maybe he’s like, third cousin removed or somethin’.” Kirishima mumbles one day through the rice he’s eating. Katsuki resists the urge to smack him over the head over these appalling manners. He silently preens when Raccoon Eyes does it instead.
Good. He taught them well. Or at least some of them have decent parents.
“Don’t be stupid.” Katsuki huffs, stretches out against the table and soaks in the sunlight filtering in from the cafetera windows. Tape tries to pick at his hair and he smacks his hands away halfheartedly. “Deku’s nothing like All Might. He’s a scrawny little fuck.” He hisses.
Kirishima shrugs. “Not that scrawny.” The redhead defends, giving Katsuki a smirk. “Dude’s been pretty dedicated to hitting the gym, that’s hella manly!”
Raccoon Eyes sighs. “I think all the pain studying for the entrance exam is worth it just for sightseeing alone.” She chuckles, earning a few hollers from her friends. A few heads turn their way and Katsuki makes a face, wanting to sink under the table but refusing out of sheer pride.
He does not like the implication or the fact it's so closely tied to Deku .
Disgusting.
Horrifying.
Appalling.
Katsuki grabs thoughts of the word Deku and muscles by the throat and murders them behind a imaginary dumpster. This is somehow worse than All Might’s attempts at getting him and Deku to work together.
Yeah, because Katsuki fucking noticed that too.
It feels like any moment now, All Might’s going to come down swinging and stuff Deku and him into a fucking get along shirt. And not the good kind, even though there's no such thing as a good kind. Maybe worse kind? Either way, Katsuki is certain it would be ugly, too tight and too smelly of lying nerds for his tastes.
Probably itchy as fuck, too.
Like an itchy Christmas sweater.
.
.
.
The Sports Festival arrives with all the grace of a speeding train.
Everyone knows it’s coming -how could they not? It’s the biggest event of the year, one all of them have watched since they were little kids. Katsuki remembers every single winner since the first time Masaru managed to wrangle him still enough to be in front of a television screen without causing collateral damage to show him his first Festival. From then on, he’d been hooked .
And now he gets to participate in it.
They’re less than a week away. The entire school is abuzz when the first transport trucks arrive, the first stands are prepared well in advance; turning a corner of the campus into a veritable shopping district. Merch of all shapes and sizes from heroes of all corners of the world are set up.
The campus restaurants are filled with workers. Tensions are high. Students are training down to their bones to prepare. Everywhere Katsuki turns, the Festival is all everyone wants to talk about.
For good reason, for once. The Festival is how a Hero Course student takes their next big step forward; for a first year like Katsuki, it’s the first time he’s presented to the world -at least, it would be, if Katsuki didn’t already have that mess with the Slime Villain going on. At least no one knows about the cause of the accidental dismemberment during the USJ attack. Rumors are aplenty, but the school hasn’t said anything officially about what Katsuki did, which is good. Great? Maybe.
The rumors are entertaining however, Katsuki will give them that. Raccoon Eyes and the rest of the roaches that decided he somehow is friend material have the time of their lives telling him about it.
Some people think that Katsuki straight up killed someone and the school covered it up. Another rumor is that he helped Eraserhead hold off the villains while All Might took his merry goddamn time getting there. Another says he exploded a villain so hard the cleaning staff is still finding bits of that poor soul to this day. The most popular rumor is closest to the truth, and that’s that Katsuki tricked the portal villain to close his portal on an ally.
A funny little story, in all honesty. It’s much better to be known for that than the Slime Villain incident. Hopefully with the Festival and him winning the number one spot -because Katsuki’s not going to stop for nothing less- the Slime Incident will be buried so deep in the public’s memory not even Deku could dig back up information on it.
It’s a nice thought.
Katsuki may or may not be daydreaming about such a scenario -him, standing victoriously in front of cameras with a gleaming golden medal and Deku's face under his fucking boot- when Midnight finally calls class to an end on this particular day. Not wanting to get stuck in traffic, he takes his time gathering his books and pencils, organizes his bag, avoids Tape Arm’s slight bump with his hip as the taller boy passes by him and then Kirishima’s babbling about a new training regiment.
It seems like a good end for this day. Now Katsuki only needs to drop off his things at his locker, grab his gym clothes and go to Yuuei’s Hero gymnasium so he can get some extra hours of work-
“Why are there so many people?!”
The shriek from Grape Boy shatters all semblance of a peaceful afternoon. Katsuki looks up from his phone to notice his classmates are crowded at the door, not walking out. Come ot think of it
“The hell is going on?” He hears the blond kid with the lightning power mutter -Dunce Head, was it Kaminari? Yeah, probably Kaminari. Shit, he’s bad at remembering names.
“Hey, get out of the way!”
“Let us through!”
“What are you guys even doing here?!”
“H-hey! This is unbecoming of you as students of this prestigious school, please get out of the way! Have some sense!”
Like that’s going to work, Glasses.
He has to wonder who exactly he’s talking to.
Katsuki narrows his eyes. Huh. Raccoon Eyes says something to his left that he doesn’t get over the chaos. They try forcing their way forward among their classmates; Katsuki stands behind Kirishim, totally not standing up slightly on his toes to check out whatever is causing such a ruckus when they finally get closer to the door.
Deku’s holding up the fucking door, of course he is.
At least, that’s what Katsuki immediately thinks as soon as he catches sight of that fucking mop of hair. It’s a sin to look at and a sign of the end times, in his opinion.
But then he notices the veritable crowd of people at the door. Students -all first year, from their height and faces- are crowding the hallway in one large mass. Katsuki takes it all in for a moment, surprised.
So Katsuki’s not surprised that some decide to take a peek at the competition.
“Because of the USJ incident.” Ponytail’s voice is barely loud enough for them to hear over the whispers and mutters of the crowd. “They’re curious about us.”
Katsuki shifts on his feet. Hm.
Well, he should have guessed.
He glances around him. The Cursed One With Freckles is mumbling up a quiet storm at a reasonable distance, so Katsuki bites down on the urge to yell at him about it. It’s been getting easier to do so, too. Much less energy wasted on the lying bastard in chief.
Deciding not to mess with Deku and his circle of mumbling tadpoles, Katsuki wiggles past Kirishima, does not step on Mini-Endeavor’s foot and giggles on the inside at the ensuing hiss of pain, and plants himself in front of his classmates. He distinctively ignores the weight of several dozen eyes drifting over to him.
Actually, he decides with a flash of vicious satisfaction, might as well seize the moment. He puffs up a bit imperceptibly, smirking with maybe a little bit too many teeth at the crowd.
Some wilt back.
Others step forward.
Katsuki finds himself face to face with a familiar purple haired kid. Purple Zombie, hereby now renamed Eyebags looks like the perfect image of nonchalance with the way he holds himself, hand tucked back behind his head to scratch his hair casually. His eyes, though, tell a different story. Beneath all those bags, so to speak.
The way they jump around, looking at each and every one of his classmates makes Katsuki narrow his in return. And when that gaze locks onto his, he’s not surprised by the dramatic sigh the other lets out.
“How sad to come here and just find a bunch of egomaniacs.”
Oh, that’s a punchable voice.
Behind Katsuki, he hears more than a few offended squawks from the peanut gallery. Someone makes a pained sound like they’re expecting Katsuki to punch Eyebags in the face. From the pitch of it, it does sound like at least a few people. It makes him vaguely offended, for some reason.
…he really doesn’t like this purple haired guy. He looks squirrelly. Shrimpy. He’s tall and lanky and eight year old Katsuki could have probably handed his ass to him blindfolded with a hand behind his back.
He’s got a determined look in his eyes. At least he has that going for him, and Katsuki can make a pretty educated guess why Eyebags is looking at him like that.
“You want to be in the hero course.” Katsuki immediately guesses.
The way Eyebag’s expression sharpens is all the answer he needs.
“Like many here, we were forced to pick different tracks. But-” The boy pauses, a tiny, sly smirk tugging at his lips before it drops back to an almost frown. “With the Festival coming, you can say we’re scouting the competition.” There's that glint in his eyes again as he sneers. “Seeing who are the weak links.”
More offended noise from the peanut gallery. Katsuki can practically hear Glasses vibrating with outrage.
“Weak links, eh?” Katsuki raises an eyebrow.
Eyebags stares him right in the eye, undaunted.
Katsuki steps forward.
Nearly all the students take a step back.
Only the purple haired guy stuck to his original position, but there’s a brief flash of a waver in his eyes that has Katsuki preening on the inside. There’s an awkward beat of silence as Katsuki silently revels in this power, but keeps his expression clean and seemingly bored as he regards the assembled crowd.
“Alright,” He starts slowly, but he lets his voice rise as he looks at the crowd. “”Oi, all you fuckers. Split, or I’ll make you split.” Katsuki takes a stomping step forward, and loves the way they all scramble back. Eyebags even has to, less Katsuki just crash into him. He looks like Katsuki forced a sour lemon down his throat and that’s just lovely.
He ignores Eyebags in favor of glaring at the crowd, positively delighted in the mixture of fear, anger and frustration Katsuki finds. “Want to take our spots in the Hero Program? Work for it, instead of whining like brats. Fucking fight me in the Festival -but until then, fucking scram extras!”
He stomps forward, this time intent on not stopping.
The entire crowd of students parts like the red sea.
Even Eyebags steps aside, a more considering look in his eyes. Katsuki can’t stifle the snort leaving his lips as he tosses his bag over his shoulder and glances back at his classmates. He can’t stop the victorious grin from growing on his lips even if he wanted to.
“See? Not that hard. Fucking weirdos.” He calls back to his classmates, feeling extremely smug at the way they squint at him. Even Deku looks slightly judgmental, but also awed. Fucking nerd.
The situation deescalates slowly with the crowd having lost their momentum. Kirishima and the rest of his group take advantage of the parted sea -including the invisible girl and Jirou, surprisingly- and rush after him, bags in hand.
“Not everyone’s as scary as you, Bakugo.” Jirou skulks when they reach the end of the hallway.
Katsuki only rolls his eyes, smirking.
“You wish you were me.”
Raccoon Eyes thumps the back of his head gently with a book. Surprisingly, Katsuki allows himself to let it slide.