Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sometimes, Shouto gets tired of being the one to chase after everyone else.

And he wonders, not for the first time and not for the last, what it would feel like to have someone chase after him for a change.

It’s an unwanted line of thought that comes unbidden one night, when Shouto is lying awake on his futon and unable to sleep. He’s got his hands folded behind his head, acting as his pillow, and he stares tiredly up at the light and shadow playing cat-and-mouse on his ceiling.

He doesn’t like when he gets too deep into his thoughts like this, when they swirl around like a whirlpool and threaten to drag him under the water. It’s so easy to get lost in the cacophony of self-pity if he’s not careful—and he’s been careful for a while, not letting himself fall into the bottomless trap hole that are these ugly feelings of loneliness, of being unwanted.

It’s just. Sometimes it’s like…he’s constantly running after something, reaching out for something he can’t quite touch. Always having to catch up, always having to trail behind like a train of shit from a goldfish. He’s never ahead of where he wants to be, where he needs to be.

He’d fallen behind in his schooling, with having to make up for his failure at obtaining his provisional license and doing the extra work to catch up to his classmates, to the other heroes . And even earlier than that, he was behind almost everyone else in his class at being able to proficiently use his quirk. His whole Quirk. He’d been knocked down a peg in the joint training with class 1-B, just when he’d thought he’d overcome some of his most difficult personal challenges. 

He’s always been chasing after his friends, his family. Chasing after Iida and Midoriya when they stupidly tried to take on Stain on their own. Recklessly chasing after Bakugou when he’d been kidnapped by Dabi— Touya —and held hostage by the League. Chasing after Bakugou and Midoriya when they’d abandoned their civilian evacuations duties to go confront Shigaraki.

And what a mess that was.

Here he finds himself, once again, chasing after his long-lost dead brother. To try and save him, maybe even bring him home. Because Touya is so, so far away. And Shouto doesn’t know if he can reach, if his fingers can touch—

Shit, even during internships before the war began, Shouto was incessantly fighting to keep up with his father, and the bar he had set for him before he was even born. Perhaps he and his father have this in common—reaching for something abstract and unattainable. 

At least his father did reach Number One Hero, even if it wasn't the way he wanted to. It's more than Shouto can say for himself.

Shouto presses the heels of his palms hard against his eyes, letting out a slow and heavy sigh. He wants these thoughts and feelings to go away. There’s no time for them right now, not when they’ve got to go chase after Midoriya and bring him back home.

He lets out a humorless laugh at the thought that enters his mind then—maybe he should run away, burdened with the weight of succession, and see if anyone would come after him. See if he’s important enough for anyone to chase.

And with that thought comes a tsunami of guilt, crashing upon the shore of Shouto’s conscience and he immediately feels like garbage. How can he be thinking such awful things about his best friend, knowing the kinds of hardships Midoriya is facing? After all, Shouto has had some similar troubles during his life, being the heir to his father’s heroic legacy.

Some friend he is.

Reaching blindly for his phone lying somewhere next to him, Shouto squints at the bright screen that illuminates when he clicks the home button. It’s way too early and way too late all at the same time—too early to reasonably get up and ready for the day, but too late to hope for any more meaningful sleep, even if he does manage to drift off before his alarm goes off. So with a heavy sigh, he gets up from his futon and digs through his closet for a hoodie and some sneakers. He throws the hoodie on over his pajama shirt and carries the sneakers downstairs with him, waiting until he gets to the front door of the dorm building before putting them on.

He knows he’s not supposed to leave the building at night, and is risking getting in trouble with Aizawa for doing so, but he doesn’t particularly care right now. He just needs to get out and stretch his legs; maybe the chilly night air will help him clear his head.

There’s a slight spring breeze that rustles the leaves growing on the trees. The long strands of Shouto’s hair brush over his eyes, and he has to comb them back to see the path in front of him. The path that extends on and on, diverging where it meets other paths. Shouto doesn’t know which way to go, which choice to make, which path to follow. 

Always following. Always chasing. Always reaching.

Shouto sighs and tilts his head back toward the sky, eyes closed. He stands there in the middle of the cobbled path leading to the school, like some protagonist in a teen drama who’s lost control of his life. Except there’s no rain to accompany his sorrow, and he doesn’t have to hide his tears in the raindrops.

He just feels a little hopeless, and very empty.

Shouto startles when he hears footsteps from somewhere behind him, faint at first but growing louder as they approach. He wants to look back and see who it is, but he can’t bring himself to. What if it’s no one—just a phantom haunting him in the middle of his melodramatic moment? He sighs again and continues forward, listening to see if the footsteps fade.

They don’t.

In fact, they quicken. They quicken and grow louder, like the phantom is treading heavily in its haste to catch up to him.

“Fuck’s sake,” he hears a gruff voice mutter, the footsteps still speeding up.

And though Shouto’s legs and feet keep walking, his heart stops completely in his chest.

It doesn’t take long for Bakugou to catch up with him, despite Shouto’s longer strides. The other boy grabs Shouto’s forearm but it’s not rough or aggressive. Rather, it’s a stabilizing kind of grip, the kind that keeps Shouto firmly in place when he feels like falling into a dark, black abyss.

“What was that all about, Icyhot?” Bakugou asks, his voice rough and scratchy as if he’d only woken up minutes ago. “You just kept walking without seeing who was behind you?”

Shouto feels embarrassed at his irrational behavior, and stares at the ground to avoid meeting Bakugou’s intense gaze. “I…thought I was hearing things,” he answers honestly, because he can’t lie to Bakugou. Never to Bakugou. “I didn’t think anyone else would even be up at this hour, let alone taking a walk outside.”

Bakugou sighs, as if he accepts the answer for now, but won’t let it go completely. He lets go of Shouto’s arm and Shouto finds himself missing the contact, no matter how minor it was. “You…okay?”

It’s then that Shouto actually looks at Bakugou, and the anger and irritation usually present in his expression are both gone, instead replaced by sleepiness and…concern?

No, I’m not fucking okay, Shouto wants to say, but he bites his tongue. Is anyone in their class okay these days? So much has happened, both in their lives and on a larger, national scale. Why is he so selfish in worrying only about himself when everyone else around him is suffering too, in their own way?

Shouto just shrugs, and starts walking again.

Bakugou follows him, keeps his distance but stays close.

“Why are you out here?” Shouto asks, looking ahead down the path instead of behind him at his friend. 

He hears Bakugou click his tongue. “I was in the common room trying to sleep,” he grumbles. “It’s…easier, sometimes, than sleeping in my room.”

“Oh,” Shouto breathes. “Sorry if I woke you up,” he adds guiltily.

“I said I was trying to sleep, you idiot,” Bakugou says, and the way he calls Shouto an idiot sounds…almost affectionate. But that can’t be right. Shouto must be a lot more tired than he originally thought. “You couldn’t have woken me up if I was already awake.”

“I guess,” Shouto says with a shrug. 

He comes to a stop when they approach a fork in the road—one path loops around back to the dorms, and the other leads to the train station at the edge of campus. Logically, he knows he should take the one back to the dorms. It’s only a matter of time before Aizawa is alerted that he broke curfew—that he and Bakugou both broke curfew—so it would make sense to head back and help mitigate some of the damage.

But there’s a small, nagging part of him that wants to go the other way. To get on the train and ride somewhere, anywhere, just to see if anyone would come find him.

Would…Bakugou follow him?

After all, he did follow Shouto outside.

Shouto sighs. He can’t let his head get too big. He’s not that important. Not important enough to chase on a fool’s journey into nowhere.

Bakugou stops next to him, also looking ahead at their choices. “Well?” he prods, but not too much, giving Shouto the time and space to make a decision.

“I…don’t know,” Shouto sighs.

There’s a moment of silent stillness before Bakugou nods his head toward the path back to the dorms. “Walk with me?” he asks quietly. He stands there and waits for Shouto’s answer, not leaving him behind like he normally would.

Shouto can’t help but frown, preparing for the hurt that’s sure to come. “You gonna demand that I walk behind you, like always?” he asks, because he has to know. He doesn’t think he can take another instance of having to chase after someone. He’s so tired.

But Bakugou shyly takes Shouto’s hand and tugs him along the path. “No. Walk beside me,” he says softly.

Shouto nearly trips over his own feet to match Bakugou’s unhurried pace. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes, but he blinks them away. He can’t cry here, now, in front of his friend who also has burdens of his own to bear but is helping Shouto carry his, too.

Bakugou has his own phantoms to chase. But Shouto has lots of experience with chasing, so maybe he can help Bakugou catch up with them.

Just like Bakugou effortlessly caught up with Shouto, following after him without any obligation.

It feels…nice. To have someone come after him. For someone to care about him enough to do so. He should be surprised that it’s Bakugou who decided to follow him first, out of everyone.

But…Bakugou’s always been there behind him, supporting him. And Shouto maybe loves him a little for it.

He squeezes Bakugou’s hand and they walk side-by-side back to the dorms, keeping pace with each other so that neither of them have to do any more chasing, at least for this moment.