Chapter Text
Studying has never been Mina’s strong suit, she can admit that. It’s just so hard to focus on one subject for so long! But there’s a test tomorrow morning in Present Mic’s class, and she’ll be damned if her grade drops any further.
Admittedly, the smart thing to do would have been to call Bakugou, but he seemed to be in a worse mood than usual today and disappeared the minute they were dismissed from class. The whole squad had tried to confer but had ultimately decided to let him cool down first. The last thing anybody needed was an argument.
With a groan, Mina flops back onto her comforter. She really can’t fail this test. The english language is just so complex though! Why are there so many different grammatical rules? Why was their alphabet so weird? And why was it that so many people pronounce things so many different ways?
She sits up, takes one look at the swimming characters in her textbook, and slams it shut. That’s it, she’s taking a break. Mina’s aware that this could prove fatal, but there’s simply no way she’s going to be able to focus a moment longer. Padding downstairs, she goes to fix herself a glass of water. The common area is unsurprisingly empty, it’s almost two in the morning, and the whole place is blanketed in an eerie silence.
“Creepy…” She mutters with a shiver, suddenly eager to leave. The water filter is sitting on the counter, completely empty, probably courtesy of Denki or Kirishima. Tap water will apparently have to do, but when she reaches over to grasp the faucet, she jerks back with a muted shout.
Sitting right on top of the sink is a rat.
It’s an ugly, fat little thing, nibbling away at Cheeto crumbs and sparing Mina no more than a sideways glance as if it’s irritated that its late-night snack is being interrupted. Gosh, how many times had they had the discussion of not leaving random food bits around the dorms? Feeling her stomach churn, the young girl takes a small step backward. The thing’s just kind of sitting there, not really doing much but eating. Would it be wrong of her to just…retire to bed and pretend she didn’t see it? Let it become someone else’s problem?
She almost does so, but the mental image of the rodent getting into their pantry or fridge makes her shudder and erase that possibility from her mind. But it’s not exactly like she can kill the thing, it’s admittedly sort of huge, no doubt fattened up by the pure amount of junk lying around this place. For hero students, the only ones with good eating habits seem to be Tenya, Momo, and Bakugou.
Oh, shit.
Bakugou!
Frantically, Mina pulls out her phone and clicks on his contact, hoping desperately that he picks up. Her prickly friend is admittedly quite the grandpa, retiring to his bed no later than eight p..m every day, and getting ridiculously cranky if he’s held up past then. However, the recent class drama is that Tokoyami’s a bit disgruntled about the fact that he’d lost his three a.m. couch spot to the blonde. There’s a possibility he’s already awake.
Bakugou answers on the fourth ring, and Mina almost drops to her knees right then and there.
“Come downstairs!” She whisper–shouts, frantic. “Come down here right now!”
Obviously, Bakugou is not amused. “What the fuck for? Why are you calling me so fucking early in the morning?” Slightly quieter, and probably just to himself he mutters, “And why did I answer?”
Mina grips her phone tighter, and she’s not sure she’s ever been this desperate in her entire life. “Just come on, please! It’s an emergency.”
There’s a slight huff, and then the phone line goes dead.
Great.
She’s considering melting a hole into the floor and trying to escape the dorms via tunnel system when Bakugou storms downstairs. He’s clearly been awake for a while if the deep bags under his eyes mean anything, and his hair is mused in a way that makes him look younger. The signature scowl of course ruins it, but Mina will look past it just this once since he’s decided to help her.
Ecstatic, she rushes towards him and flings her arms around his torso. “Thank god you’re here! I thought I was going to die-”
Predictably, the blonde recoils from her touch. “Shut the hell up, idiot! It’s two in the goddamn morning! What do you want?” Bakugou snaps at her, prying her hands from his arms vehemently. Mina backs off, but only so she can point dramatically over at the sink, slumping. “Look!”
“At?” Bakugou asks flatly.
“Did you not hear me?” Mina raises a brow, straightening herself and facing forward. “Don't you see that rat over by the sink?” She looks back over and goes pale at the once-occupied space now empty.
Faster than she’s ever seen him move, Bakugou launches himself on top of the kitchen island and hugs his knees to his chest. Panicked, Mina scrambles over as well, and is met with a foot to the ribs that sends her flying backwards on her ass. It takes a few seconds for it to register that she's just been Sparta kicked, and the teen’s arms flail as she sits up. “What the hell?” She exclaims.
“Find your own fucking spot, this one’s mine!”
“Are you kidding me?” Mina gapes in disbelief, “I called you down here to kill the thing, you wimp!”
Bakugou has the nerve to glare down at her haughtily from his perched spot, much like a king would glare down at a lowly thief he’s just sentenced to death. “You’re insane. Do you know how much bacteria those things carry? The diseases? How do you think the plague spread, asshole?!”
Mina feels her face go slack, jaw dropping. Of course, she suddenly feels infinitely stupid. How could she have made the mistake of calling the class’ biggest germaphobe to handle a rodent of all things?
A shadow scrambling by in her peripherals shocks her back to reality, and she scrambles from the floor and back to the island. “Let me on here, you jerk!”
“Hell no! Find your own hiding spot!”
“It’s big enough for both of us!”
“The hell it is!” Bakugou pushes her away by the face, and Mina feels her back strain as she plants her feet and holds onto the cold marble with frantic strength and sweaty palms. Was this how Jack felt, listening to Rose cry about him freezing to death when all she had to do was scoot over?
“Get away from me!”
“You’re a traitor Bakugou Katsuki, a fake friend-”
“Fuck you! You called me-”
“Well I wouldn’t have if I knew-”
Then, the kitchen light flickers on, and the two teens meet the gaze of a very unamused Aizawa.
In the end, neither of them caught the plague and instead ended up with a week of kitchen duty for causing a disturbance so early in the morning. Aizawa took care of the rat, albeit with a few judging looks, and a terminator is called to come within the week.
As somewhat of an apology, Bakugou begrudgingly helps her study for another hour before forcing her to go to bed. She makes a high C on the test, and while it’s not the best, Bakugou still gives her a scoff and a, “I guess you’re not a total idiot.” Which is basically a “good job” in his language.
-
“Mina, come on!”
Jirou rushes to keep up, lightly jogging as she and the rest of the girls follow a fleeing Mina. Hagakure calls after her, concerned. “Where are you going?”
Their classmate doesn’t answer, instead choosing to keep speeding down the halls. They’ve wandered all the way from their classroom to the third-year building, and none of them even know how to get back to where they were at.
Mina probably doesn’t know where she’s going, either, Jirou thinks ruefully. They were all going to be lost at this point. “Mina, seriously!” She calls, “Let’s go back to the dorms at least?”
Abruptly, the other girl stops dead in the middle of the hallway, rubbing frustrated tears from her face with her sleeve. “Just leave me alone…” She whines, shoulders shaking. Feeling all the agitation rush out of her, Jirou scurries over with the rest of the girls to usher Mina from any prying eyes. All of them pile into a nearby stairwell, sitting on the cold stone.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, the sound of sniffling the only noise.
“I might have overreacted.” Mina frowns, reaching over to pluck a tissue from the box Momo is currently producing from her arm. “It’s just-” She stops to blow her nose loudly, and Jirou tries to keep from cringing. “It’s like nobody even cares that he’s gone.”
Uraraka rubs her friend’s arm soothingly. “You know that’s not true. We may not have always gotten along, but the whole class loved Bakugou. We all feel his absence.” The other girls nod, trying to make her feel better.
“But no one’s doing anything!” Mina chokes out, wiping her eyes. “It’s been months, and we’ve all just been sitting here sitting through class like usual! Nobody even says his name anymore! It’s like it’s illegal to talk about him like he’s dead or something!”
At that, a few of them look away guiltily. It was true, that the subject of Bakugou had become a bit of a taboo. With how abrupt everything was, and the court case being so…public….it made them reflect on their actions. Should they have said something? Should they have noticed more? If someone, even just one person, had bothered to question their teachers, would he still be here?
It was an uncomfortable subject for everyone, even Aizawa. And while they all knew deep down that there was nothing they could’ve done to change things, the knowledge that their classmate had been suffering more than they knew hurt to think about. In a way, it was easier to brush it off and pretend nothing happened.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Not very heroic, if you think about it.
“I guess you’re right.” Hagakure muses, “We had all kind of assumed that Bakugou was indestructible. It feels stupid to say it out loud now, but I always kind of felt like he didn’t care about things like emotions.” Idly, she pulls at a strand sticking off her skirt. “ He was always seemingly at one hundred or zero at all times. It just seemed like he didn’t need to be checked on. Not like the rest of us, at least.” She reaches up to scratch at her head, “I know now that’s not true.”
Even after Kamino, Bakugou had appeared perfectly fine. The blonde had been abducted, held captive for three days, and fought his way off a field full of villains, just to come back to class the next week as loud as ever. Anyone would have been messed up by that, but no one had bothered to ask him about it because being okay just seemed so, well, Bakugou . He was the same as he’d been before he left.
Even their teachers seemed to have the same mindset, Jirou knows she can count on one hand the amount of times she had seen Midnight, All Might, or even Aizawa check up on their classmate after training. Or even just in general. Bakugou just seemed so put together all the time, it admittedly kind of seemed like he didn’t need it. Perfect grades, the perfect daily routine, he was so confident and sure of himself in a way none of them were.
Uraraka feels her stomach tighten, and she clutches the sides of her blazer. How many times had she seen this very situation? All Might on tv, smaller than she had ever seen, their symbol of peace clutching a horrifying injury. Deku, sheepishly nursing a burn he couldn’t even feel because the nerves in his arms were so damaged. Aizawa, bleeding and broken, but still saving Tsu from Shigaraki.
Even her own father, sore from long hours of lifting, still catching her when she jumped into his arms once he came home.
If the heroes are the ones doing all the saving, who would be there to save them?
“Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” Momo mutters, making Uraraka jump slightly. She had no idea she’d said that out loud, she probably needed to start going to bed earlier. They all go quiet once again.
“So what can we do?” Tsu ponders, placing a finger on her chin. “How do we not repeat the past?”
“I’m not sure.” Mina huffs. She's done crying, but her face is still slightly red. “But I’m not gonna just sit around and do nothing this time. Blasty’s my friend, he’s always been there for me. For all of us! U.A.’s just not the same without him. We have to return the favor.”
There are nods and cheers of agreement, and Jirou realizes this is the most determined she’s seen her friends in a long time.
-
The news spreads quickly.
Bakugou had always been a topic of conversation at U.A., whether it be out of admiration, distaste, or fear. When the case had originally been brought to the public, he was all anybody ever talked about. It was somewhat disturbing, to hear total strangers speculate and talk all-knowingly about such a sensitive topic. Who wants to hear some first-year go on and on about the ‘underground torture chamber” in the HPSC while they’re trying to get through the lunch line? No one, that’s who.
They’d had one incident where Midoriya had to be put under house arrest, after lunging at some idiot who’d had the balls (or the stupidity) to actually approach him and ask about Bakugou. Hitoshi hadn’t heard all that was said, but judging from the sneer on the random student’s face, Midoriya’s red complexion, and the fact that the boy had even attacked him at all, he could guess that the whole thing was deserved.
It was weird, suddenly having the entire student body laser-focused on their class.
Or maybe it was only that way for him, the newest member of class 2-A. It was normal for the rest of his classmates, every student in this school had been zeroed in on them since their first year here. Disaster after disaster kept a spotlight on them inside the school and out. Hitoshi was used to being on the outside looking in. He still cringes to himself sometimes remembering the way he'd acted during their first sports festival. But despite that, he had always been the type to keep his head down and just try to make it through the day.
So yeah, having that thrown back at him wasn't the most amazing feeling.
But if it was awkward for Shinsou, he can’t imagine what Bakugou (who you know, actually had to deal with this whole situation) felt. Truthfully, Hitoshi was glad he managed to get somewhere else after finally knowing what he'd really been dealing with at UA. Everyone in Japan had been following that court case closely. Not one had known just exactly what Bakugou had been going through this whole time. Even Kirishima, Bakugou’s closest friend, had seemed shaken by the news. The blonde had never complained, never said a word about the mistreatment. His rocky relationship with his parents had seemed like a given, nobody who has a good relationship with their parents has that sort of personality. His issues with Midnight could be chalked up to petty dislike, and he seemed to tolerate All Might well enough. But still, it all felt like a shot to the chest to finally have all of it laid out.
Shinsou had never seen himself ending up as close to the guy as he did, Bakugou wasn’t really everyone’s cup of tea. He was abrasive and rude, and Hitoshi himself could name more than one occasion where he wished the guy would utilize his inside voice more often, but there had always been a strange sense of solidarity there when it came to how they were perceived.
It's vaguely corny to think about, but both of them had been labeled "villainous" early on. Both for their quirks and demeanors. Shinsou knows he's an asshole, he doesn’t try to hide nor deny that fact. So was Bakugou, but in a different sort of way. He’d say things bluntly, and was obsessed with becoming the number one hero, but he had an unwavering moral compass and cared for his friends deeply.
He also remembered how Shinsou made his coffee in the mornings, so that was a plus.
He understood how Shinsou felt, and was observant enough to realize when something was wrong, but never asked him to talk about his bullshit feelings like Midoriya or Tokoyami. He was a breath of fresh air in their otherwise sometimes suffocatingly cheery class, and Shinsou was feeling his absence more than he’d like to admit.
"So that's it? That's why you're so worked up about this whole thing?" Aoyama wonders aloud, sounding extremely unimpressed. He tosses a rubix cube up and down from where he lies horizontally on Shinsou’s bed. “How dreadfully boring.”
Shinsou looks over at him from the corner of his eye, not even bothering to turn his head as he raises an eyebrow. "Is that not dramatic enough of a reason for you?"
The other boy shrugs, twisting a few sides of the cube back and forth before resigning himself to just tossing it in the air and catching it. "I'm just saying. We all know about your experience with UA, and how you were bullied and such. You feel like Bakugou went through the same thing, and so now you feel like his new super flashy hero image is just him living his best life? Is that it?”
“No.” Shinsou snaps, “It’s not.”
As if he didn’t even hear him, Aoyoma rolls over and groans loudly into his friend’s pillow. “I was hoping it would be something more interesting and less, you know!” He lifts his face and scrunches his nose, and if he’s managed to smell something worse than those god-awful cheeses he’s always walking around with. “Emo.”
“You said that like it was a slur.” Shouji comments from the bean bag chair in the corner, arms wrapped around his legs.
“Well, it might as well be!” Aoyama whines, flattening his face into the pillow again. “I wanted something juicer, like a homoerotic love story!” He rolls back over and blows a piece of hair from his face. “I guess I can still rely on Midoriya…”
“I feel like that would be the obvious first choice,” Shouji mutters. “Him or Kirishima. That guy like shits rainbows when Bakugou looks at him and they’ve been best friends for years.”
“Wait.” Sato interjects, “They’re not already dating?”
At the looks he gets for that, he holds his hands up in surrender. “He calls the guy ‘Kiri’ of all things! Who else in this class does he call by their first name, let alone a nickname?”
Aoyama waves his hand in dismissal. “Bah.” He says. “The sun and moon dynamic is soooo overdone. But if I didn’t know any better I would say the same thing. I won’t judge you, but you are on thin ice.”
“I will not be gaslighted.”
“But you think Shinsou is a better choice.” Shouji frowns, “I mean like no offense dude, but you don’t seem like the dating type.” Shinsou opens his mouth to say something but closes it after some thought.
Aoyama stands on top of the bed, swaying dangerously and coming a little too close to the ceiling fan. “You all have no sense of imagination! Think about it! Two emotionally repressed boys who have both been labeled villains by society-”
“Oh my god,” Shinsou whispers, rubbing his temples.
“I am extremely uncomfortable.” Sato states.
“-Find comfort in each other! One is the strongest, the other-but a newborn fawn stumbling his way through the world of heroics that the other has already been burned by. He attempts to shield him from the horrors-but alas!” The blonde clutches his chest dramatically and screws his eyes shut. “They both fall victim to the atrocities that are the media and modern-day hero society. The only way they can find comfort? In each other.”
“I would read it.” Dark Shadow comments, and Tokoyami shrugs as he bites into an apple. “It does mirror some of the more dramatic shows I’ve seen.”
“Yeah, and that’s because you’ve been watching K-dramas with Denki. Stop it.” Shinsou points out.
“And there’s the other issues with your theory.” Shouji says, “That.”
“What?” Shinsou asks. “Why are you pointing at me? What did I say?”
Everyone in the room gives him a once-over before Aoyoma concedes. “You’re right.” He nods, “I’ll give you that one.”
“So nobody wants to explain.”
“I don’t know.” Dark Shadow squawks, “I always kind of liked him and Todoroki.”
The whole room goes silent again before everyone busts out laughing. Aoyama almost falls off the bed, having to carefully place himself back down. Even Shinsou lets out a chuckle or two. Tokoyami smiles. “Dark Shadow, you are truly a master of comedy.” His companion is truly not finding this as amusing as everyone else, and he pouts about as well as a sentient shadow-being can.
“Alright but seriously,” Shinsou says, “Can we get back on topic? None of you guys think this is a good thing? I mean, did we watch the same hearing?”
“We all watched it.” Tokoyami agrees, “But not everyone in the class seems to have interpreted what came after the same way.”
“There’s Mina and the other girls,” He starts, “Who think this whole thing is suspicious and that Bakugou is being used by the Commission or that he’s in trouble. However, I’m not sure if all of them think that or if they just want to support Mina.
“Then there are some people like you, Shinsou, who think that UA was a bad place for him and that he’s better off learning how to be a hero at the Commission. There’s Kirishima, who just wants him to be where he’s happy, but then again, that could be the guilt clouding his conscience.”
Sato rolls his bottom lip between his index and thumb. “I just think that things aren’t going to be all black and white. I mean, how do we know everything that the Commission was saying is true?”
“Well, they won the case, didn’t they?” Aoyama asks, “That means something right? They can’t lie under oath.”
“There weren’t any cameras in the courtroom.” Shouji argues, “Anything could have happened.” Shinsou sits up straight at that. “Do you think the teachers know something we don’t?”
“Well, we definitely don't know the full story.”
“They’d tell us though.” Aoyama frowns. “They wouldn’t lie to us about it, we asked Aizawa ourselves when he got back and he told us that the Commission won custody!”
“I mean, think about it. What reason does the Commission have to want Bakugou in the first place? You don’t really think they’re doing it out of the kindness of their hearts or something, right?” Sato questions. “They definitely have some ulterior motive.”
“But does it even matter?” Tokoyami asks. At Sato’s incredulous look, he simply keeps going. “I mean, there’s a lot of heroes who are only in it for the money and stuff. But they still save lives. Does that mean they’re less deserving of the title?”
“I feel like that’s different.” Shouji sighs, “This whole situation makes my head hurt.”
“Agreed.” Aoyama groans. “I just wanted to become the most twinkling hero in all of Japan.”
Shinsou grimaces. “I don’t think anybody’s trying to take that from you.”
-
“Meeting with Endeavor’s in fifteen, we should get going.”
Bakugou raises an eyebrow, stopping in the middle of punching the crap out of some random thug to throw a confused look over his shoulder. Hawks is perched on a nearby lamp post watching him work, the pretentious asshole, with his head resting on his palm.
“Why are you never fucking helping?” Katsuki huffs, trying to wrangle one jerk while another attempts to make a getaway. “You’re always just standing off to this side, like some kind of defective scarecrow.”
“I’d make a great scarecrow.” The older sasses. “You wound me, Dynamite.” With none of the dignity of a fully grown man, Hawks pretends to faint and slouches over. “And here I thought we were getting along so well.”
He receives a flat look in response. “I liked you better when you were an ass to me. Now you won’t shut the hell up.”
It’s been a few days of patrolling, and therefore too many days of seeing Hawks for ungodly amounts of time. It was better when he only saw the guy for a few hours a day, but now that the bird brain is…comfortable with him, the thought makes Katsuki shiver, he’s been spared not a singular random outburst.
Hawks chuckles and rights himself, running a hand through his carefully gelled hair. “What can I say? You managed to last longer than I thought you would.”
“Thanks. That’s really heartwarming.” Katsuki responds, slamming the last fugitive down on the sidewalk, properly cuffed and subdued. Hawks lets out a low whistle. “That’s your tenth purse thief today! And all without a quirk.” He hums.
Bakugou shrugs and snaps the velcro off his wrist to pull the heavy-duty gloves off his palms. He wipes them on the thick fabric of his pants, thankful the fabric is dark enough not to obviously stain.
“You know you don’t have to wear those things everywhere? They were like a one time punishment thing.” Hawks chimes in, considering him from his spot above. “Any particular reason you’re keeping them on?”
Bakugou peers at him from the corner of his eyes as he takes off and puts his utility belt back on. He obviously has an idea as to why Bakugou is doing it, but he wants Katsuki to confirm it for him.
Well, tough shit.
“Just wanted to. Makes things easier.”
Hawks isn’t even considerate enough to let his lie marinate. “I doubt it. Those things are so thick I'm surprised your punches don’t feel like pillow fights.” He sends another meaningful look down at his new partner.
Bakugou turns up his nose and crosses his arms.
“You’re such a child.” Hawks snorts. “Don't tell me you’re scared to use your quirk.”
“Screw you.” Bakugou glares, “I used it just fine the other day!”
“On robots.” Hawks shrugs. “Not on people.”
Katsuki doesn't say anything, he's not sure what he can say. It's not a lie, in fact, he's been found out embarrassingly quick. He can go all out against a machine, but there's a certain sickness that he feels just thinking about his quirk coming into contact with flesh. He's always had a good handle on his quirk, always. But that day at the mall had changed him more than he'd assumed. It feels like there's a thick layer of mud coating his hands like he could dirty anything at any minute.
“Fuck you.” The younger snaps, “I do what I want.”
“No,” Hawks responds, gracefully hopping from the lampost. “You do what you’re allowed.”
Bakugou sends him a dirty look, but says nothing. They both know the truth, even if they do joke about it. If the old hag could see him now, he almost snorts. Whipped like an obedient dog and willingly suppressing his own quirk, which was exactly what she’d wanted from him his whole life. How embarrassing.
Katsuki still thinks to himself sometimes, if he’d just swallowed his damn pride and been the kid she’d wanted, would she have cared?
If U.A. had still wanted to give him away, would she have protested? Would she have screamed and yelled, and threatened them? If he had been the son she wanted him to be, would she have loved him enough to keep him?
It feels silly to think about, most days he hated that woman’s guts. But there’s a different type of rejection in realizing that even someone as shitty as the Old Hag didn’t give two shits about him. Dunce Face used to joke that he had a face only a mother could love, Katsuki had to hold back the response that even his mother didn’t love him more than once. He’d learned very early on that jokes like that seemed to bother the idiot squad for some reason, everyone would get super quiet, and Shitty Hair would make that face– you know the one where he looks like you kicked a puppy, or maybe a random orphan-
“Uhm,” Hawks starts, creeping closer in his peripheral vision. “If you’re that worried about the whole, you know, incident…I can totally-”
“Fuck off.” Bakugou snaps, feeling his face heat. “Seriously.”
The older man holds both hands up in surrender and wanders off, probably to give a statement to the police officers waiting nearby. Katsuki lets out a shaky breath that he’s sure Hawks could hear and runs a hand down his face.
It’s trembling.
Slowly, he sits on the curb, trying to memorize the way the hot pavement feels through the thick fabric of his costume. “Even after all this time,” He muses quietly to himself, “You’re still not worth shit, are you?”
-
The Endeavor agency is about what you can expect from the number one hero, big and flashy with a shitload of interns. It hasn’t changed much since he’d last interned here his first year at U.A., and the reminder makes Katsuki grit his teeth.
They have to walk through the whole agency just to make it to Endeavor’s office, and his feet move mostly on autopilot. Hawks makes polite conversation- and by polite conversation, it really means him going on and on about something or another-content to simply hear himself speak. It’s like he can sense that Bakugou is far from in the mood to talk, but then again he rarely ever is.
He feels sort of stiff, avoiding the curious gazes on him while trying to stay on guard just in case Todoroki or Deku are running around here somewhere. Their last run-in was more than enough to make him want to dig a hole and die in there. The stupid hurt look on Deku’s face had been a stab to the chest, but the soft gaze of Todoroki had been the turn of the knife in his chest. The stupid bastard.
He’s got the expression of a dead fish every minute of every day, but his eyes never fucking fail to tell you what he’s really thinking. He’d seemed worried and yet relieved at the same time, staring at Katsuki with some kind of weird longing in those mismatched eyes that had made the blonde look away quickly.
Even now, his ears will heat at the thought of it. The hell was he so worried about, anyway? It’s not like they were ever friends. Sure, they spent a good amount of time together, but like hell was Katsuki ever-
“Dynamite, I see you’re doing well.”
Endeavor is still clearly an asswipe, suit ironed to perfection and tie and collar placed impeccably around his neck. The tacky-ass fire beard isn’t there today, but it hardly ever is during meetings like this. The heat still rolls off the man in waves though, making the room stuffy and uncomfortable.
Hawks sends a feather or two to open a window, waltzing in like he owns the place and flopping onto a nearby sofa as the other man stalks off somewhere else. “So, Enji-”
A disgruntled huff from the corner of the room.
“Any updates on that case for us?”
“Quite a few. My interns found some interesting leads over the weekend.” Endeavor responds, opening and closing filing cabinets. While his back is turned, Hawks glances over and mouths for Katsuki to find a seat and quit standing around like a quote-unquote “dickhead”. Nice.
Begrudgingly, Katsuki sits down. The office door is locked, there’s no possible way anyone’s coming in, especially not his idiot ex-classmates, but the anxiety is gnawing at the back of his mind anyway.
Hawks has detached a few small feathers and taken to sharpening them and tossing them at the dartboard across the room. Four of them shoot off in rapt succession, embedding themselves in the wood. The blonde glances over with a smirk, obviously looking for some praise. He’s a damn near perfect shot, but like hell is Katsuki feeding that ass’ ego. He gives him the finger instead.
Endeavor watches them, unimpressed.
“If you two are done bickering like high schoolers, could we start?” He asks flatly, before glancing over at Katsuki. “I didn't want you on this case to begin with, because despite the Commission’s assurances I wasn't completely convinced that you'd matured enough for this kind of work. ”
After weeks of interning with this man, Katsuki is used to the usual snide comments. However, the sheer condescending tone has him defensive and Katsuki feels his teeth grinding together.
“But then I, ” Hawks interrupts, “Told you that I and my partner Dynamite are a package deal; You want one and you get the other.”
Endeavor rolls his eyes. “I recall. Which also helped me remember that even the most ridiculous of individuals can become heroes as long as the Commission pumps enough time and tax dollars into it.” He offers Bakugou a sideways glance, but for hardly longer than a second. “I guess it's good that U.A. had smacked at least some sense into you before you left.”
It's clear that Endeavor it's just being his usual asshole self, and that he doesn’t have full knowledge of what landmines he’s stepping on, but Bakugou can feel himself getting pissed off either way. He remembers his media training. He spent two hours a day sitting in Hayami's face being told how to phrase things, what to say, what not to say, and who not to say it to.
But they're not in front of any cameras, right? Endeavor already knows him, so surely he can just-
“Yeah I bet you’d know-”
Hawks chooses then to intervene. “And as much as I enjoy being insulted to my face, me and my partner here are busy people. Maybe we should start with what we came here for.” He’s smiling when he says it, as per usual, but the younger can tell he truly didn’t appreciate the other man’s comment either.
Endeavor glares at him, but lets the conversation go for now. Sitting at his desk, he produces three folders. “Shizuoka Prefecture. About three hours from here, and apparently the new hub for drugs and gang activity. There’s been a big boom in organized crime in the past months, and my agency thinks it’s another villain organization.”
Hawks' eyes go dark, but he remains slouched on the couch as he asks. “Do you think we might have another League situation?”
Bakugou feels a pang of anxiety rush through him, and he stamps it down with a steel-toed boot. Everything about the war with Shigaraki and the League had been enough to fuel his nightmares for the next three lifetimes. Katsuki had almost lost his life on more than one occasion, and while the physical proof was often hidden, the emotional baggage was more than enough.
Quickly, he schools his face and focuses on the conversation. The League was a once-in-a-lifetime threat, there were so many circumstances that led up to the sheer power they held that it would be near impossible to recreate. Shigaraki and All For One were both gone for good, there was no way anything like that could happen again. But if Katsuki had known that the aftermath would’ve led to him having to mentally talk himself down at the mere mention of it, he would’ve gotten a few more hits in.
“Definitely not anything of that caliber.” Endeavor responds confidently, “I sincerely doubt anything in the near or even distant future could ever match that. With All For One and Shigaraki gone, it would be impossible to pull off even half of what the League did.”
Hawks nods in agreement, tossing his head back against the arm of the couch. “So what threat level are we looking at here? Level A? Anything below that you wouldn’t be bothering with.”
At that, Endeavor sighs heavily. “That’s true. Originally, I had intended to pass this over to my son Shouto and his classmate, Deku. You’re familiar with them, I’m sure. They’ve been interns of mine for a while now, and at the time this definitely sounded like something they could handle with the correct team and resources. However, there was something that came to light that has made me reluctant to get them involved.”
The mention of Deku and Todoroki has Bakugou cringing slightly. Hopefully, the two of them wouldn’t be working on this case with them, or at the very least not very closely. While both of them were professional enough, he’s not sure they’d be willing to let him off as easily as they did a few days ago. Now that he thinks about it, Katsuki’s sure that the two of them aren’t even in the building right now. Word had surely spread around that he and Hawks were here, and even though it's been a while since they'd spoken in-depth, Bakugou knows for a fact that Todoroki wouldn’t give two shits about barging into his father’s meeting room at any point.
The room goes silent for a moment, and Bakugou looks up after a minute to realize that Endeavor is staring straight at him. Internally he startles before glaring back, cursing himself for spacing out. Obviously, the number one is far from happy and sends Hawks a look from across the room, seeming both exasperated and questioning at the same time. The other man merely stares back, making a split second of eye contact with his partner before looking away and shrugging.
Bakugou bristles. Clearly, the two of them are having some silent conversation about him, which would be all nice and dandy if he wasn’t sitting there in their damn faces. He wouldn’t take this type of bullshit as an intern, and he sure as hell wasn't going to take it now after weeks of brutal training.
“Do either of you have something to fucking say?” He hisses. “I’m not an idiot.”
Endeavor has little reaction to the harsh words, simply continuing to flip through his folders quietly. He seems to think for a moment, before ultimately deciding to just spit out whatever he’s thinking.
“I’m wondering if you’ll be able to work on this case successfully without being a hindrance.”
Bakugou scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Anything less fucking stupid to say?”
“It would be wise of you to watch your mouth and refrain from speaking so rashly.” Endeavor says lowly, “You may be young but you are not a high schooler anymore. You are in the real world with real people, and it's about time you act like it.”
“I'd take that advice seriously coming from anybody but you. You're the last person who should be talking to me about how to treat others.”
“Shut your mouth and listen to me, now.” Endeavor demands, voice booming as he stands from his seat hard enough to force the chair backward and onto the ground. “You will watch your mouth, and you will watch your temper. This is my agency, and my case, and I will not stand here and receive sass from a child!”
Angrily, he scoops up all three folders in one large hand and makes for the door. He lingers in the doorway, turning around to point an accusing finger. “If you want to be anywhere near this case, you’ll adjust your attitude.”
Without another word, Endeavor storms out of the room.
Hawks and Bakugou sit in silence for no longer than a few moments before it’s inevitably broken.
“Well, you managed to make Endeavor leave his own office. That’s a feat, I won’t lie.”
Katsuki sends him a heated glare, and Hawks holds his hands up and stands from his seat. “Alright, not in the mood for jokes.”
It’s annoying, the way he's being berated and looked down on like some sort of child still. Katsuki’s aware he hasn't made much noise as a pro just yet, but you'd think the guy he interned under almost his entire first year would act like he knows what he's doing?
“Hey,” Hawks calls. “What's wrong with you? Don't tell me Endeavor of all people is pushing your buttons.”
Katsuki scowls and looks away.
Hawk’s face is a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “You're like the king of shit-talking without really meaning it. No way that got you all worked up.”
He's met with silence once again.
Hawks doesn’t get it. He's a well-established pro hero, time serving best in the country. Of course, Endeavor’s opinion doesn't mean anything to him, because in the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter. But Katsuki is different. He's just starting out, and can barely get himself to talk right on camera lest he's beaten, or starved, or whatever other crazy shit the Commission has lined up.
The blonde lets his smile fall, and he sighs and stands to stretch before walking over to sit down next to Bakugou. He makes sure they're eye to eye in an attempt to level with him. Bakugou watches from the corner of his eye as Hawks opens and closes his mouth, obviously struggling to offer some mentorly advice. There’s no doubt in Bakugou’s mind that the other man is probably way out of depth here, if he’s been with the Commission for as long as he says he has, he’s probably got at least a few stunted social skills.
The number two hero breathes deep before exhaling loudly out his nose. "Alright kid, I'm gonna be serious with you for a minute. You and I both know that Endeavor's got a major stick up the ass-"
Katsuki snorts.
"-But." He emphasizes. "You're gonna have to get used to him. This is a joint case we're in on now. You're going to have to put up with him the same way he's going to have to put up with you, but the difference is that we're technically still at his agency. He has the authority to kick you off this case, and you know the Commission won't like that."
And as much as Katsuki doesn't want to admit it, Hawks has a point. There'd be hell to pay if he fucked this up, especially since it sounds like Endeavor had objections towards him being involved in the first place. It's extremely annoying in that sense because the guy never had much of an issue with him during their work study. What the hell's changed since then?
"This is your chance to prove yourself. Do well on this case, and he'll have no choice but to acknowledge your intellect and acknowledge your strength. Your hero rank will go up, you'll get the recognition, and the Commission will loosen their leash just a little." Hawks stands up then, brushes his pants off, and offers him a hand. "All you've got to do is chill out. I'll talk to the big guy, just focus on pulling your weight on this case."
Bakugou rolls his eyes, but clasps his hand in Hawks firmly after a moment.
"Fuck you." He sneers, "I'll blow the two of you, and this shitty villain troupe out the damn water."
-
Shouto sighs, resting his chin on his hand as he gazes out the window of the train. He and Midoriya are on their way back to school after an early morning patrol. Endeavor had requested they join one of the patrol groups lacking in numbers, and the two of them had jumped at the opportunity.
Well, Midoriya had. Shouto was more than content to stay wrapped in his bed and get a few more hours of sleep, but he'd come out of solidarity. He’s only slightly satisfied.
It was a little past nine am now, and after an admittedly boring four hours of walking around and stopping low-level villains, Shouto wants nothing more than to collapse and sleep forever. He'd hoped to catch a few minutes of rest on the way back to UA, but the morning rush had kept him from doing anything more than dozing.
Midoriya however, is a ball of energy beside him, practically vibrating in his chair. His hands drum on his thigh, and Shouto can see the way he's squeezing his phone case in his grip. Maybe for Christmas, he can get him something to help that, like a stress ball, or a straitjacket.
Actually, he can name a couple people he'd like to put a straight jacket on.
"What's going on?" Shouto asks. Knowing his friend, it could range anywhere from a text from All Might to a Bigfoot sighting. You never truly knew with him.
"Kacchan was at the agency today!"
"Huh?"
Okay…so they’re leaning more towards the second one.
Of all the things he expected to hear, a Bakugou sighting was not one of them. After their weird interaction a few days ago, they hadn't seen the other boy again outside of small clips and news articles. It's more than frustrating to suddenly hear that he was at the agency and that they had apparently just missed him by not even ten minutes.
Midoriya seems to share at least some of his sentiment because his smile is much smaller now. "Yeah, I just got a message about it. He and Hawks were both there, apparently, they had a pretty long meeting with Endeavor about something."
Todoroki frowns. Hawks was a somewhat common sight at the Endeavor agency, but there are only so many reasons he and Bakugou would be there. "Do you think it's that case?" He wonders aloud. "The one my old man took us off of?"
Midoriya bites the corner of his lip, huffing a bit. "It might be. I honestly have no idea what to think. Everything I thought I knew about this situation has been wrong."
Shouto grimaces. He knows all too well just how many hours of sleep Midoriya has lost trying to come to terms with this whole thing. If he's being totally honest? Todoroki has been plagued by his own thoughts about the situation.
The whole thing was fishy to say the absolute least.
“There's too many circumstances here. Too many variables that are out of place.” Midoriya had said back then. “It can't just be over like that!”
Except it had, and they had all been ushered past it like a group of small kids past a particularly gory car accident. There are so many things Todoroki had wanted to say, to do. The entire class had felt off for a while, the absence of closure surely playing a huge part. They had assumed they'd at least be allowed to watch the trial, but just like the rest of the world, they had been shut out and left to stew with their emotions.
Even Aizawa had very little to say about the situation. He wouldn't answer any questions, wouldn't entertain any suspicions. It was back to business the very next day, and he hadn't wavered once. Shouto suspects that Nedzu had said something to him, because their gruff teacher couldn't even be seen with his sleeping bag anymore. He came to class on time now, he didn't sleep no matter how tired he seemed. Tsu suggests that the Bakugou incident inspired him to turn over a new leaf, and Uraraka figures Nedzu threatened to fire him.
Most of the class had refrained from holding their own stance in a feeble attempt to keep the peace.
Shouto had too for a while. Bakugou had played a more solid role in his daily life than he had noticed and given him credit for. So, his being gone had pressured him into trying to preserve the connections he did have left.
Running into him the other day had changed that.
Before now, the idea of ever seeing the blonde again had seemed somewhat impossible. Unattainable. He had dropped off the face of the earth without a single word, and no one had any way to contact him. You couldn’t even get near the Commission with a fifty-foot pole and, Shouto doubts he has the clearance to just walk in there.
But now?
If what Midoriya was saying was true, Bakugou and Hawks would be hanging around the agency far more often. It didn't matter anymore if he and Midoriya had been taken off the case by this point.
This was his opportunity to get some answers and make things right.
And Shouto would be damned if he let it slip through his fingers again.
“I’m going to get my father to put us back on the case.”
Midoriya does a double take for a moment before his face sets in a straight line. “He’ll probably say no, and he’ll know we’re only doing it to get close to Kacchan.” Shouto bites the inside of his cheek. His friend has a point. Endeavor didn’t take kindly to them waiting around to try to talk to Bakugou the other day, there’s only one way asking him would go. “So then what do we do?”
“We bide our time,” Midoriya states. “We try to figure out as much as we can with what we’re doing now, we’ll still be in the agency and chances are that Hawks and Kacchan will be too. If we can figure out what’s going on ourselves, we won’t need Endeavor.”
“Bide our time?” Shouto asks, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d want to wait.”
“I don’t,” Midoriya says grimly. “But it’s probably the only way we’re going to get any answers. Kacchan is avoiding us, that’s a non-starter. Hawks will probably be around him all the time, there will only be a handful of opportunities to get things right. We have to be prepared.
-
To make things clear;
Bakugou Katsuki is not scared of his quirk.
He is, however , scared of what he can do with it.
It had taken nothing but a fit of panic, a few minutes of terror, and a split second for him to end someone’s life. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought of the circumstances, whether or not the bastard deserved it, whether or not he was a villain.
If you ignore all of that, the fact of the matter is still the same.
He had killed a man with his bare hands.
Katsuki still has dreams about that day, about the way that things are going. Sometimes, he’ll be on the train, minding his business, and he gets tapped on the shoulder. By a kid, a random old lady, anybody, really. And he jumps, he panics , and loses control of his quirk. Another life ended because he couldn’t control himself.
Explosion had always felt like an extension of him, it was as natural as breathing and as big a part of him as the blonde in his hair or the red in his eyes. He couldn’t imagine himself without it, he was his quirk. Everything that made him himself, that made him important and loved, that made him good enough was because of his quirk.
Now he’s too scared to use it on anything other than a piece of scrap metal, and it’s pathetic. Explosion is less of a power and more of a weakness.
But Katsuki is terrified.
If he hadn’t been told that day exactly what had happened, he would’ve had no idea that the Sludge Villain was dead. He’d have been none the wiser that he’d taken a life from this planet in the span of a few seconds. If he were to lose himself in that panic again, in that primal fear, what else would he be capable of?
If he truly concentrates, if he sleeps deep enough, he can fall into that memory and feel the phantom rigidity of bone giving way under his hands. Skin, blistering and burning under his palms.
Katsuki isn’t sure if it’s truly what happened, or something his mind has come up with to punish him. Either way, he wakes up shaking and with the urge to vomit. His own skin feels too large for his body, his hands too clammy outside of his suppression gloves. He’s gallivanting around in his shiny new hero costume and gear, but he feels like a newborn fawn that’s just learned to walk, like a kid playing in his parent's clothes.
He can admit, he doesn’t feel like himself.
And he wants that euphoria back, the feeling of that wind in his face as he shoots across a battlefield without fear, the heat of his palms and the pain as they blister and rip open from the sheer amount of power he unleashes on whatever low life villains he comes across. He misses it.
But he can’t allow himself to have it anymore.
It wasn’t just the villains he was hurting. Aizawa was probably scarred for life now, and all because Katsuki couldn’t handle being told the truth about his situation. His teacher had just been trying to get his attention, but Katsuki managed to freak out and blow up a whole conference room.
He’d burned the uniform sleeves of kids he bullied and used his sparks to intimidate people who admittedly, hadn’t done anything to him. He’d used it on Deku more times than he could count.
It had been mockingly easy to spiral from there.
So he keeps the shitty gloves on.
Hayami could give a shit less, her and that stupid clipboard. The President is actually pleased, happy to see him “cooperating” without being told. She’s not around as much as she was in the beginning, and neither is Hayami. The both of them had gone from constantly surveilling him to simply watching him go back and forth from patrol, to training, to paperwork, to the library for tutoring, to patrol again-
He’s constantly on the move, there’s no time to rest.
And he’s sure that if he stops moving for even a moment, they’ll realize that he hasn’t taken those gloves off since he got them.
It’s not all about him, either. It’s about Hawks too. Hawks, his begrudging mentor who’s taken to trying to keep Katsuki out of trouble for some goddamn reason, a show of grace and empathy that Katsuki definitely does not deserve. The older man is concerned about him, but he’s not pressing the issue. He’ll watch as Katsuki tears apart robots in training, but refuses to touch a citizen in the field. He watches as Katsuki moves expertly through the sky with controlled blasts, but won’t even so much as open a door without the thick gloves strapped to his hands.
Yes, Hawks is concerned, but he’s not doing anything about it yet.
And so, Bakugou keeps the gloves on.
He’s not sure how long he planned on doing it in all honesty-no-Katsuki’s aware that he would’ve probably never taken them off if he could’ve gotten away with it. But like it always does when things are going decent for him, the universe decides that he needs to be humbled.
And then on a random Tuesday night on patrol, his gloves are ruined.
It’s a villain with a slime quirk of all the goddamn things, and it catches Katsuki while his back is turned, sending him flying clear across the street. He brought his hands up to block, and caught an armful of thick, green, goo. In the moment, he pulled the gloves off and watched as Hawks took the guy down, Bakugou too tentative to go up and help himself.
They were fucked beyond repair, and they were specially designed. All of his gear, all of his tech, came from one company. It was a new partnership, created specifically for him, and it would take weeks for another pair to be ready. He hadn’t gotten in trouble for it, but Hayami wasn’t trying to hear anything he had to say about needing another pair as soon as possible.
That brings him to now.
They’re on patrol, and for the first part of the day Katsuki has gotten lucky with the lack of people he’s run into. In fact, not much of anything has come up on this patrol. Not even fans, which sort of irks the blonde. He’s taken to having to sign his autograph with those giant gloves on, and now that he has them off and can write freely nobody has some random object for him to sign?
It’s noon, and they’re on the way to Endeavor’s agency when it all finally comes to a head.
“Dynamight take the right, I'm going left.”
Katsuki does little more to acknowledge him other than a small grunt, as he shoots off to the other side of the street. It's a bank heist, a shoddily executed one at that. There's a group of six men, all holed up inside the largest bank in Musutafu.
Not only were they low on numbers, but they'd been sloppy. Someone inside had pushed the panic button and the police were there in under ten minutes. Katsuki and Hawks wouldn't have even been needed, but in pure desperation, the ring leader of the loser squad had taken everyone still inside hostage.
They were armed, which was the real kicker here. Guns were outdated, frankly frowned upon, and reserved strictly for high-ranking military personnel or cleared pro heroes. Civilians weren't allowed to own them, and for good reason too.
It doesn't really matter how good your quirk is, very few people can survive a gunshot.
Which makes Katsuki wonder who the hell distributed these things to a bunch of overinflated idiots like these.
But for the moment, he pushes his questions aside. In the small amount of time he and Hawks had to confer on the way over here, they'd been informed that four of the men after in the front attempting to negotiate with the police, and the other two were in the back near the safe, attempting to pile up as much cash as they could on borrowed time.
Hawks would go in through the left side entrance and engage with the four in front, and Katsuki would go through the right side door and sneak to the back to take out the last two.
He slides his palm against the door, it's not that thick. He could kick it in, but that would cause a lot of noise. Melting through it would take up too much time. So Bakugou waits, bides his time until Hawks makes his grand entrance. The criminals immediately start firing at him, and Katsuki uses the shouting and panic to bust the door down and sneak down the empty hallways.
One major upgrade he’d gotten with his uniform was his new gauntlets. They were less heavy, and less bulky than the ones he’d designed himself. They were also shiny gold, and held the Hero Commission’s logo that he presses with two fingers. It gives under the force, and a holographic screen shows up.
It’s like he’s got a small computer in his hands, and he clicks on one of the red icons on the screen. Hayami sent him a blueprint of the bank, along with the floor plan. She monitors all his patrols from the Commission building, and for once he’s thankful for it.
Following his newly acquired map, he makes his way through several hallways and doors that are labeled “staff only.” Katsuki realizes he’s getting close when he hears the sound of bickering from a door that’s wide open. He stands right outside it, crouching behind a large crate. It’s gone quiet up front, and it makes Katsuki’s hair stand on end. There are not a lot of reasons that would happen following a shootout, but he has to have faith in Hawks. The men inside seem to be thinking the same thing.
“That's a fucking pro hero out there, dumbass! We should just take what we have and leave out the back door, cut our losses.”
“And leave the boss and everyone here? They’ll get caught!”
There’s a distinct smacking sound, and a hiss of pain.
“You listening to anything I just said? They’re gonna get caught anyway, but we don't all have to go down! What good is it if we all go to jail?”
Katsuki chooses then to reveal himself, aiming an open palm at the two masked men as he stands in the doorway. “You two fuckwads are going to jail anyways.” He states, “The only option you have now is whether or not you're stopping at the hospital first.”
“Shit.” A man on the left wearing a hockey mask spits, “The fucking UA boy. I told you he was working with the number two.”
“Well, how the fuck would I know?” His partner with the clown mask protests. “You say a lot of crazy shit!”
“Oi!” Bakugou snaps. “I don’t have all fucking day, you’re either coming with me or you’re coming with me with a broken nose. Pick one!”
“Fuck this, dude.” Hockey mask groans, whipping out his own gun. “Sorry kid, but I ain’t going to jail-”
He's cut off as Katsuki lunges for him, arms tight around his midriff as the two of them go down. They scramble on the floor for a second, and the gun goes sliding across the tile. Katsuki gets his legs around the guy and sits on top of him. He gets one punch in, and then another.
The guy bucks wildly, trying to get the blonde off of him, but he can’t do that and focus on protecting his face at the same time. It’s a losing situation for him, Katsuki is both stronger and more agile, and eventually, he gets a grip on the guy’s wrists and twists, bone giving way just in time for the one in the clown mask to finally retrieve the gun and point it straight at Katsuki’s head.
“Don’t move!” He barks, “Get the fuck off him!”
Katsuki’s arm flies out, but the explosion he’s about to let off dies before it can get anywhere. Both assailants freeze before the one on the floor snorts. “What the fuck? Is your quirk not working?”
“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou snaps, “I’ll blow your fucking face off.”
“You can?” He probes, “Or you won’t?”
Katsuki lets go of his wrist and uses that same hand to punch him clean across the face. His mask goes flying off, and the man stares up at him with wild eyes and a grin. “Holy shit!” He laughs, despite the fact that he’s bleeding at the mouth. “You’re not using your quirk!”
His counterpart looks confused even behind the mask, and his friend turns his head towards him from the floor. “Shoot him, you dumbass! He’s not gonna blast you!”
“Shut up!” Katsuki roars, feels his heart beating out of his chest as he turns to face the gun pointed towards him. “If you don’t want a face full of a fucking fire, you’re gonna put that thing down.” He orders, stares the man in the face, and tries to make him believe it.
The man beneath him squirms with newfound vigor, and Katsuki has to use his full weight in an attempt to keep him on the ground. “Don’t listen to him! He’s not gonna fucking hit you, just shoot him and we can get out of here!”
“I don’t know man-” His partner says shakily, but despite the waver in his voice the hand holding the gun stays steady.
“You don’t even wanna fucking be here.” Bakugou argues, “This shit wasn’t even your idea, was it? I heard you talking before I came in, you’re scared to go to jail- scared to get hurt."
The guy looks back and forth between Katsuki and his friend, who is now shrieking at the top of his lungs like a lunatic. “Don’t you fucking listen to him! Shoot him, now!”
“You like your life? You wanna keep it?” Bakugou hisses, “If I hit you hard enough from this close there’s not gonna be a jail to go to. Put that shit down, now.”
The guy below him laughs maniacally. “He’s goddamn bargaining with you not to shoot him! Nobody as violent as this asshole with a quirk like that wouldn’t have blasted you by now-just shoot him-”
“Don’t-”
The man in the clown mask steels his grip, and Katsuki watches from outside his body as he shoots forward and grabs the gun.
It goes off.
He doesn’t even feel the bullet as it hits him, and off pure adrenaline and body memory alone, he sets off an AP shot at the dude.
His body flies back, and he hits the safe behind him with a sickening crunch. His body falls limp like a rag doll. Katsuki watches numbly from the floor as the other man runs over with a shout, slipping in his desperation as he grabs his friend and shakes him.
“Miran! Miran! Wake up-goddammit get it!” He cries, ripping the mask off his friend, and it seems like it falls in slow motion onto the growing pool of blood on the floor.
Katsuki’s ears are still ringing, but he can register the way the criminal screams at him as he clutches his friend’s body close to him.
“Miran! What the fuck did you do?!” He cries, eyes bloodshot and angry. “He was just a kid! And you-he’s not moving!”
He’s not lying, his partner is lying motionless on the floor. His eyes are hazy, fogged over, and unseeing as he’s jostled by his grieving counterpart. They're a sickly blue, and the ginger of his hair is matted and plastered to his head with crimson. Katsuki realizes numbly as he watches the scene that the two of them are brothers.
I did this.
The oldest one looks up at him with such a resolute expression of hatred that Katsuki can feel it in his bones. He can’t move, doesn’t even want to breathe as the man picks up a blood-soaked hand and brings it to the pistol.
He aims it up, up, up.
“Fuck you Dynamight.” He seethes, “Burn in hell.”
Katsuki breathes deep, closes his eyes.
“Bakugou!”
The sound of his name shocks him, and his eyes fly open just in time to catch a ragged Hawks lodge a massive feather into the dude’s shoulder. He drops the gun, and clutches at it, writhing in pain. “Fuck!”
Hawks’s eyes are wild and panicked as he whirls around and looks at Katsuki, who gapes at him like a fish. “What the hell were you doing? He would’ve killed you! You almost died!” He reaches for him, and the younger boy doesn’t have his wits about him enough to flinch. Hawks pats him all over, feels his torso, and squeezes his shoulders. “What’s wrong with you, kid?” He whispers, staring straight into Katsuki’s unfocused eyes.
Bakugou can’t speak, can’t do much else but force himself not to puke at the rancid smell of blood that clogs the room. Hawks seems a thousand miles away, but he’s really just right there. He holds Katsuki’s face in his palms, stares straight through him. “You’re going into shock.” He announces, trying to hide his grimace.
The pro looks down and finally realizes the blood that’s leaking from his partner. “What the fuck- who shot you?” He demands, holding up Katsuki’s hand that’s got a hole straight through it. The younger boy isn’t even looking at it though, staring in a trance-like state at the two people behind them.
“Was it him?” He demands, standing up and glaring at the man he’d just impaled. He’s stopped squirming and instead pants heavily from where he’s been pinned to the rigid metal of the safe. He’ll bleed out if he doesn’t get help. Hawks might not even call.
What the fuck was this kid doing? It took a grand total of ten minutes for him to finally get the hostage situation under control, he’d almost had it, but then he heard a singular gunshot go off from Katsuki’s direction and admittedly-Hawks had panicked.
In record speed he’d shot feathers off at every gun pointed at him, subdued the attackers, and didn’t stick around for the police to pile in as he took off towards the sound.
The scene was something Hawks never wanted to see again, Katsuki shell shocked on the ground and some man pointing a gun at him. He didn’t think when he attacked him, didn’t care, because who was he to attempt to take Katsuki’s life? He was a kid.
Hawks didn’t even realize until later that he’d called him by his given name instead of his hero name.
Katsuki didn’t even react to the gunshot in his hand, and for a moment, Hawks thought it was because he was scared of the man who’d almost killed him.
Until he registered the unconscious man lying in a pool of his own blood.
The understanding crashes over him in waves, and Hawks grits his teeth. The man certainly looks dead, there’s no denying that. The back of his head has a deep gash, and Hawks realizes that Katsuki did this.
And he was willing to let himself be killed because of it.
Blue eyes stare into the ceiling, unseeing.
“Fuck.” He cringes, “Fuck, don’t look, kid.” Hawks turns around, bodily hauls Bakugou up off the floor, and starts carrying him out the door. “We’re leaving, we’re going alright? You’re gonna be fine.”
Katsuki, predictably, does not respond.
The other man screams after them. “You…get back here!” His words are slurred from the blood loss, but he doesn’t seem to care. “You goddamn cowards-murderers! Fucking killers, you killed him! Don’t you run away from me!”
His screaming turns to sobs.
“You took him from me! Took my little fucking brother from me! You call yourself heroes? You ain’t heroes! You ain’t nothing!”
In his arms, Katsuki flinches, and Hawks lets loose one final feather without looking back.
-
“He’s not fit for field work right now.”
“He was shot in the hand. The bullet went clean through, we have some of the best healers in the country at our disposal. That boy is fine. ”
“I know, but it’s not just about his injuries.” Hawks implores her, damn near begs her to understand. “He’s not fit to work right now.”
The President is unyielding, and barely looks up from her morning coffee. She could give a fuck less about how Katsuki is feeling, how he’s functioning mentally. The bank stop was good press, great press really.
The entire country wants more of Dynamight and Hawks, and the President wants to capitalize on it.
“You have a case with Endeavor you need to work on, I already had to convince him strongly to allow Dynamight to participate.” She states matter of factly, handing a paper flippantly to Hayami who grabs it without looking and deposits it in a filing cabinet.
“Endeavor will understand-”
“Are you arguing with me, Hawks?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. Her tone is calm as a summer breeze. Hawks’ fists clench by his side, and he grits his teeth hard enough for them to hurt.
“If I may, Madam.” Hayami begins softly, “It may be best if Dynamight stays in the Commission. It would be counterproductive to try to have him catch up on his workload with Endeavor and do patrols. It’d be best if he did some research under the guise of healing, than going back to Endeavor empty-handed. We want him to think he’s an asset.”
Hawks stays begrudgingly silent as Bakugou’s handler tries to talk the President into letting him stay at the Commission. It’s disgusting, especially considering it’s been only one day since the entire thing went down. The President knows exactly what happened, there’s no way she couldn’t.
“I am his handler.” Hayami says, “He’d do well with access to the library.”
“I know what’s best for him. You’ll see results.”
The President thinks for a moment, before ultimately conceding. “I’ll give him three days. Do whatever it takes to get him back at one hundred percent. I don’t care what the entails, do it or I will.” It’s a clear threat.
But it’s the best they’ll get.
-
“Harder.”
A punch.
“Harder.”
Another punch.
“Come at me like I’m trying to kill you.” Hawks demands, blocking a punch from his sidekick and following up with one of his own. It connects, and sends Bakugou sprawling onto the mat. Across the room, Hayami stands with her clipboard beside the center console. Its operator watches with a barely concealed grimace, clearly feeling for the boy.
“Get up.” Hayami demands, “Go again.”
On shaky arms, Bakugou forces himself to his knees and then to his feet, falling into somewhat of a fighting stance. His form is suffering from the fatigue, his legs too far apart, and Hawks goes straight for his knees and watches him fall to the floor.
Bakugou stays down, and sweats into the thick mat.
“Get up,” Hayami calls. “We don’t have time for this Dynamight, we’re on a schedule.”
“I can’t-”
“You can and you will.” She states, and leaves no room for argument. “Get up.”
Katsuki at least has the energy to glare at her from across the room, his whole body shuddering. He makes it to his feet and throws pulling a stance to the wind as he charges straight at Hawks. He goes for a right hook, and then feints left before swinging with his right again. Hawks is only slightly impressed, ducks under both swings, and brings his knee so hard up into Bakugou’s stomach that he coughs up bile.
There’s no time to recover before he’s swung around by the wrist and launched across the room. He hits the floor hard on his shoulder, before tumbling a few feet and staying there. He doesn’t move, just stares straight at the ceiling.
Hayami sighs, scribbling furiously on her clipboard before she stops, clicks her pen, and says; “Get up.”
“I fucking can’t get up!” Bakugou shouts, throat dry. “He just kicked my goddamn spine out my body!”
“We’ll stop when you manage to land three hits on him.” Hayami states, “Until then we’re going to keep doing this.”
“We’ve been going for fucking two hours!” He argues, turning onto his side. “I’m not making any progress, why can’t we just call it a day?!” Hayami looks like she could give a shit less, per usual. “We wouldn’t even have to be doing this if you hadn’t been injured like that in that heist. How did you even manage to get injured? That was far above your caliber of being able to handle.”
Bakugou says nothing.
“Are you going to keep sitting there? Or are you finally going to realize that the whole reason you haven’t hit him yet is because you aren’t using your quirk?”
The blonde grits his teeth, and spits blood off to the side. “I don’t need to use my quirk.”
“What you need to do is get a grip on reality.” Hayami snaps, finally letting go of that stoic demeanor. “You’re not grasping what’s fully going on here, and I need you to be aware. You are a professional hero now, there’s absolutely no reason you should be so cocky as to believe that you can get off clean without using your quirk-”
“It’s not about getting off clean!”
“Then what is it?” She demands, “What reason could you possibly have for putting yourself in harm's way like that?”
“Are you forgetting that I’ve killed somebody?” Katsuki screams. “I’ve killed, I’m a fucking-murderer! I’ve ended someone’s life with this quirk! Things were going fucking fine when I stopped using it on people, and then the second I went back to it I fucking killed someone else!” He slams his fist on the ground. “Stop acting like this is okay! Like you all don’t see me for what the fuck I really am!”
The room goes silent, and Hawks swallows past the lump in his throat. Slowly, he walks over and slides down the wall to sit beside Bakugou. He thinks carefully about how to go about this, because it’s clear that this conversation can make or break the younger boy.
“It’s okay, to not be okay about this whole thing.” He starts, “But you can’t be scared of your quirk.”
“I can’t?” Katsuki argues, “After I just killed two people?”
“Let me finish,” Hawks says. “When I was younger, I had a dog.”
“You?” Bakugo asks, looking skeptical. “You don’t look like the dog type.”
“I’m not, really.” He responds, “But I was attached to this one. I found it getting chased by a bigger one, and I swooped in and saved the day. My dad hated him though, I had to beg him to let me keep him and even then he still had to sleep outside.”
-
“What are you gonna name it?”
“Inu.”
Its name is Dog because, despite his age, Keigo lacks all the creativity and imagination of a child.
His dad busts out laughing, and pats him all the head with all the gentleness a drunk who never wanted kids could. “You’re a fuckin’ hoot, kid!” He cackles, and Hawks smiles with all his missing teeth.
“Now I want you to listen to me, boy.” His dad says gruffly, doesn’t crouch down to level with him when he says it, just stares from underneath his dirty hat down at him. “That’s a fightin’ dog. Not a companion. It’s missin’ an ear for a reason, it ain’t your friend. It’s gonna protect the house.”
And in that moment, Keigo had blindly agreed. He wasn’t really listening to what his dad was saying, because all he’d wanted was to keep his new pet.
So the dog stayed outside, chained up to a pole outside their house. He barked at anybody that passed, killed cats that walked into their yard, growled, and foamed at the mouth.
His dad was the only one allowed to feed it, because when Keigo tried it had almost taken his hand off.
“What’d I tell you about that damn dog, boy? It’s not your goddamn friend!” He’d snapped, dragging his son back into the house by his arm roughly. “Dad, you’re hurting me!” Angrily, Takami had thrown him back into the house and stomped back to the door. “That thing ain’t normal. It’s been kept in a cage its whole damn life, forced to fight other dogs. You treat it that way, act like you got some damn sense or I’ll get rid of it!”
So Keigo watched from his house as the dog stayed outside in the snow, the rain, and the heat. He ate once a day, and killed a squirrel or two. Everyone was terrified of it, even his dad was cautious. If you came near it, it would snarl at you, like it fed off your fear, your anxiety.
And then one day, the dog got loose.
Keigo had been minding his business in the front yard, and he walked past the dog on his way to the gate. It had snarled at him, snapped its jaws, and the pole keeping it tied down came up from the ground. The dog charged at him, and in his panic, Keigo ran out the gate to their house and into the road.
A car came, swerved, and hit his dog.
The poor thing lay in the middle of the road, twitching and foaming at the mouth. Keigo tried to take a step closer, and even on the verge of death, it snapped at him. Only then did he truly realize the fear in Inu’s eyes, the way his eyes darted back and forth, and the way his ears were pinned to his head.
He was terrified, just like Keigo.
-
“But you said yourself it was a fighting dog. It was already violent.” Bakugou mutters, picking at the threads of the training mat. “What could you have done with it?”
“That’s true.” Hawks shrugs, “But dogs can sense when you’re scared, when you’re tense. They feed off of that, my dog was just as scared as I was. If I had made an effort to try and coexist with him, understand him, things might have ended up differently.”
“It’s not your fault. You were just a kid.” Bakugou shrugs, looking as if he’s aged thirty years in the past few days. In a way he has. “You couldn’t have known.”
“Yeah, and so are you.” Hawks states, “I know you don’t see yourself that way, but you are. Which is why you shouldn’t write yourself off this quickly.”
“The more you suppress your quirk, the worse things will be. It’s okay to be cautious, to be careful, but you can’t throw your life away in an attempt to atone.” Hawks explains himself firmly, leaving no space for hesitation as he looks Bakugou straight in the eyes. “I don’t ever want to see you like that again.”
The younger boy looks away, eyes watery and tired.
Deciding that he’s said enough, Hawks stands and brushes himself off. “And he’s not dead, kid.”
Bakugou’s gaze falls back on him, wide with disbelief.
“He’s not perfect, but he’s not dead. You didn’t kill anybody.” The older man turns his back and makes his way to the door as Bakugou physically doubles over with a gasp of relief, trembling where he’s been beaten down on the mat on his hands and knees.
“You’re a good kid, Katsuki.”
You’re a good kid.
Bakugou finally allows himself to break down in tears, and Hawks closes the door behind him.
“So?” Hayami asks, standing opposite outside the door. “Is he good?”
“Yeah,” Hawks responds, and believes it. “He’ll be alright.”