Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bakugou Katsuki is very young when he meets broccoli head for the first time. He doesn't even remember it, his mom told him about it. While Aunty Inko and Witch were talking, kids were placed together in a playpen. This day Izuku, right after inspecting his new surroundings, laughed and tried to eat the foot of the blond boy. It was quite typical for babies, to be honest, but still. Ew.

Nowadays Katsuki is four years old. He is smart, strong and absolutely certain his future quirk will be as cool as he is. On the other side, Izuku, his friend, is small, weak with big watery eyes. In comparison they are like heaven and earth. Everyone know and understand Bakugou is a genius, while Midoriya is but a naive doormat. But Katsuki knows Izuku is much smarter than they think. Not the same way of smart as blond boy is though, no. Utterly different.

The sun is only starting to set, blond boy looks over his sandcastle with a prideful grin. "It's so pretty, Katsuki-kun!" – aunty Inko smiles. "Yeah, and dirty shorts are very pretty too, punk." – his mom snorts.

Katsuki simply rolls his eyes and contemplates his creation again. His castle is made out of wet sand, which he dug out from the sandbox's depths; two floors, three high towers, stones used as windows, and deep moat around. He tried his best, he always did, and he is proud of result he got. Even aunty Inko enjoys his work. It's a good sign. For a second Katsuki feels a strange itching. He's not fast enough to meet eyes to eyes with Midoriya because the greenete hid his face in his palms, but gives him a confused look anyways. Huh. Weird. Well, Izuku's castle is nowhere close to Katsuki's masterpiece, but it's not that bad for an extra.

The short blondie snorts deciding to go search leaves for the sandcastle's flag and stands up, shaking off dirt from his knees. He wanders here and there all over the playground, trying to find a perfectly beautiful leaf because anything less is unacceptable. Soon the boy realizes that all leaves on the ground are messy and torn apart, so he determinedly climbs on the tree glancing at mom from time to time. (Witch can start yelling if she spots him climbing!) His palms are sore and one particularly annoying branch hit him in the face, but a small sprig with bright green leaf and unopened bud was worth it. At least Katsuki thinks so.

Katsuki comes back right in time to witness Izuku starting to cry. He whimpers and whines and both women rush to see what happened, cooing and desperately trying to calm down the curly boy. "Izuku, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"– aunty Inko picks Midoriya up and hugs him tightly.

"I c-c-can't bui-i-i-i-ild a cas-s-stle!"– boy mumbles in-between sniffs.

Katsuki frowns. Izuku's sandcastle was not so terrible, was it? He throws a look at the place where broccoli head was playing and freezes, bewildered. On the original walls out of wet sand there's a layer of dry one, and corners of the sandcastle are destroyed, even though five minutes ago everything was fine, lonely tower bows to the ground, stone windows are ridiculously big, ruining it’s walls.

"Izuku-kun, don't cry."– his mom tries to smile sweetly (And fails in Katsuki's humble opinion).– "Katsuki will help you build a new castle, even better than previous!"

"But we d-d-don't have enough time for this!"– pleads Izuku, which immensely annoys the blond boy.

He would never allow himself such display of weakness.

"Well, Katsuki will share his castle with you, so you can finish it together!"

Katsuki opens his mouth in pure shock and switches glances from Witch to Midoriya who immediately stops crying and shifts to a wide sunshine-like smile. Katsuki's ears are red from anger. Bullshit! How can they believe this story?! How can they even dare to take what belongs to him and give it to someone else?! Without asking his opinion, too!

"Oi! Izuku can build his stupid castle by himself!"– Katsuki barks, confronting the curly boy with an angry scowl.

Midoriya does not look upset at all.

"I think Katsuki-kun is right, Mitsuki. Isn't this unfair?"

Midoriya smiles from ear to ear, his lips are white from pressure and stretching.

"All’s fair! Hey, punk, did ya get it? You'll help Izuku-kun with the castle!"

Midoriya's eyes are wide open and glow with acid green, pupils huge and black like void.

Katsuki frowns yet another time, silently goes to his sandcastle and sits down. This battle is already lost. He knows it. Izuku is smart, but not in the same way that Bakugou is. Bakugou is educated and quick-witted. Midoriya is sly, like a snake. Situations like this happen quite often. Every time when the blond boy success in something, gets gifts or is being praised, the smaller boy starts to play dumb. Takes away part of Katsuki's glory with whims, ends up playing with Katsuki's new toys, scares kids who wanted to be friends with Katsuki. And then he gives The Look. Disgusting acid look with wide pupils black as coal.

Katsuki will never admit it but he's a little bit afraid of that look. Instead he will shout louder, frown deeper and use more harsh words. He will continue to go forward, sometimes alone, ignoring weird-ass Izuku who's following behind, like a shadow. And still... Izuku is a friend he can stand. He's quite a good friend, actually. Besides, Katsuki really likes aunty Inko and it's nice to talk with broccoli head about heroes and play in epic battles using action figures.

Even though he's terrified imagining Izuku as a hero.

Midoriya is left by Katsuki's side, mom and aunty return to the bench, while Katsuki continues his work, keeping a watchful eye on his friend.

Broccoli head does nothing. Nothing at all. Simply pets walls and windows of sandcastle with a strange, nervous and excited at the same time expression.

Katsuki ignores it.

Katsuki shuts his eyes. Listens to ringing in his ears. Holds itching hands, palms up. Something warm drips to the floor. Few seconds later, ringing finally disappears.

He can hear the panicking mumbling of a teacher, whispering of children and hissing of his own damaged skin. Katsuki looks down facing the burnt mess that his hands now are. He tried to experiment with his just awakened quirk. Little sparkles were gracefully dancing, shiny and flashy. Kids were gaping, admiring the show, excitedly calling it "fireworks". As a result of this childish play he ended up blowing his pores up.

Was it painful? Oh, yes, very much so. Something blew up right inside of his palms, ripping muscles, tearing apart tender childish skin, colouring his world in white and silencing sounds around with thunderous BOOM. Did he scream? Not even a single whimper. Sweet smell oddly resembling melted caramel filled the room, tickling his nose. Katsuki pierces the palms that betrayed him with the most hateful and offended glare. Pathetic.

Second later he grins showing off his sharp teeth. It was so damn powerful! A whole explosion! Katsuki squeezes his eyes stopping tears from falling. He is above crying. Immense pain annoys the blond boy but somehow he knows everything will be just fine. Now he knows how strong his quirk is. Now every fucking single extra in this room knows how amazing he is. Katsuki does not have rights to cry, especially infront of the mob, instead he stops his fingers from shaking and with strong-willed steps proceeds to the medical room.

"B-B-Bakugou-kun, wait!"– caretaker lady stumbles behind with worried expression.– "I need to call your parents!"

"Humph. Call them then,"– Katsuki tries to hide his trembling lower lip behind arrogance.– "Or do you want me to do this?"

Caretaker manages to call his parents. Witch and Dad scoop him up from kindergarten immediately, former laughing her ass off looking at boy's annoyed face and latter being on the edge of crying, squeezing steering wheel with all his power. Everything afterwards is a blur: quirk doctor, tests, a brief check from a psychologist, expensive minor healing (His parents can afford that easily enough), special bandages for his palms and reassuring words from experts. "It's absolutely normal for kids with strong abilities to hurt themselves at first. His skin just started forming a protective layer so it can't protect from strong explosions at the moment, but, I believe, in the future he will be able to create massive explosions with ease! Frankly speaking, I haven't met such a strong quirk in a while. Your son has all chances to become a high ranked pro-Hero!"

Katsuki, of course, remains calm and collected.

Dad buys two tubs of mint ice cream and suggest to celebrate his Quirk Awakening at home rewatching his favourite Hero Movies.

Katsuki is indeed very calm.

Witch grins like the witch she is, loudly claims that "ain't no way we are going to do this so lame" and proceeds to buy two big bowls of super hot katsudon (and one with level one spice for dad), four bottles of Coke ( a.k.a "Sweety, I think it's too much sugar-" "SHUT UP, DORK, I HAVE SO MUCH MONEY AND IT’S NOT FOR LIVING A HEALTHY LIFE"), bag of red licorice (Witch jokingly offers to buy caramel and gets a glare for that), AllMight sparkling cereals™ (He loves them so much), five packs of chilly chips (dad looks terribly scared paying for these) and huge set of sushi (Which is mostly for parents, but still).

Katsuki is indeed very collected.

They watch six movies until midnight with one point half speed, Dad miserably tries to catch up with the plot, asking questions getting only mocking laughs from his wife and son as an answer. Witch praises Katsuki about his mighty will and amazing quirk. Katsuki smiles brightly, bounces from one side of the couch to the other, waves his bandaged hands in the air and tells for the millionth time how his quirk felt like.

Katsuki is very damn fucking calm and collected.

Really.

And even if afterwards he falls on the bed, hugs his orange stegosaurus plushie and wheezes into his pillow, shaking and quivering out of sheer happiness, he is still composed and unruffled.

The blond boy looks at the ceiling that has little glowing stars stuck to it, unable to drop his cheerful smile. Tomorrow Izuku is going to stay for the night, so they can celebrate his Quirk Awakening together. Broccoli head, perhaps, is not as clever as Katsuki is, but he's still a decent friend who can hold an interesting dialogue and understand his ways of playing games (Katsuki doubts Izuku even knows what "decent" and "dialogue" means though). Every big figure has their own sidekick after all.

Bakugou junior closes his eyes. He knows everything will be fine.

He knows that no matter what, he is going to be the best out of the best. Because he has an amazing life with amazing parents, amazing friend and amazing quirk. He will be a Hero one day, saving someone and making their lives as amazing as his is. Why wouldn't he? He wasn't raised greedy.

Night is serene. Soft blue moonlight comes from an opened window, curtains slightly sway on the cool wind. Branches of the zelkova tree from Midoriya's backyard cast a shadow on the house. A oy with green locks of messy hair stands in his own room and peers through leaves, trying to catch a glimpse of a blond head.

"Fuh... Who put this annoying tree h-here?..."– he mumbles unknowingly to himself.

His father did. The last thing he actually left behind besides monthly paychecks. But did he ask for it?

No.

. . .

Perhaps, he can "fall" from it, so his mom will chop this irritating issue down. For his safety.

"Sounds great..."– he thinks and gives the empty room a nervous, trembling smile.

Green eyes are still locked on the window of the opposite house.

Chapter Text

Bakugou squinted. The sun was only starting to rise, simplistic white room was filled with a pink glow, birds were peacefully and quietly chirping outside. It was a school day, which means he was supposed to wake up as early as possible. He needs to brush his teeth, complete morning training, take an almost ice-cold shower, eat a proper healthy breakfast, recheck the insides of his bag twice, scroll through the news, put on his uniform, use perfume so he will not smell like walking cotton candy, say goodbye to Witch and dad so they will know he successfully went outside (if they're not home, then send messages about it) and only then he will leave his house. And even after such a long routine it still would be around six in the morning. His classmates always complain about school, call it Hell and cowardly curse their poor teachers behind their backs when they get bad marks. Bakugou, in fact, was absolutely the opposite. Firstly, he never in his life got a bad mark. He is not stupid. Secondly, he understands that no matter how boring education can be, it's still necessary and useful in some way, besides he must go to school anyway if he wants to get a job. Might as well use this time on actual progress. That's why he's smart, duh. Thirdly, he was not some dumb extra, who whines and cries at every rock on their path.

His feet stepped on soft carpet. After murdering all microbes in his mouth with a tooth brush, Bakugou went down to start morning exercises. Nothing extraordinary, he had been doing this training for more than half of his life.

With a shower taken, Bakugou swiftly entered the kitchen. Witch was sitting there, hypnotized by a nature documentary on TV, which she switched to news after noticing her son. Some villain occupied one of the main streets, destroying two civilian buildings. Well, there goes point "scroll through news". Blond boy snorted. When he becomes a hero, shit like this would happen less often.

"Good morning,"– Bakugou said and took a place at the table, leisurely scooping rice with a spoon and mixing it with curry.

"Morning. Me and dad are going to be late today,"– Mitsuki turned to face him with a devilish grin.– "Try not to blow our house up, punk."

"I'm not an idiot, I won’t use my quirk at home, old Witch."

"I'm not old!... I'm mature..."

Bakugou successfully ignored Witch's upset nagging, finished his breakfast and went to put on his uniform. He left the highest buttons unbuttoned, threw a blazer on his shoulders and ran outside. It's not like he was in a hurry, he was just hoping to start off the day nicely. Some rare extras were passing by, mostly all adults probably going to work. Not a lot of teenagers woke up early like him.

But one always did.

Shy shuffling was heard behind. Blond boy roughly turned his head and Deku froze where he stood, nervously tapping a strap of his backpack.

"Get lost, Deku,"– Bakugou turned away and proceeded on his way to school without waiting for an answer.

"B-b-but I need to go in the s-same direction!"– Deku exclaimed nervously ("Lie,"– Bakugou thinks.– "This is not the reason.").– "Kacchan!"

"Don't call me by that name, jerk,"– Bakugou tiredly growled and quickened his pace.

It would not help him to get rid of the nerd, but he will arrive in school faster, where he can sit as far from the greenette as possible. Bakugou was in a surprisingly great mood today! He didn't want to ruin it with desperate efforts to talk back without results. Shuffling behind him became even more quiet, but the explosive boy could still feel a piercing glare on his back.

It started a very long time ago and Bakugou wasn't sure if it's possible to do anything with it at this point. Every morning since they began attending school, Deku woke up and was leaving his house almost at the same time as Bakugou did, following the explosion quirk wielder like a shadow. No matter how much Bakugou changed his schedule (annoying Witch with it), Deku always figured it out and copied, unaltered.

He was ten when he realized someone was watching him through his window.

Watching with the same eyes, that ruined their timeworn friendship.

Acid green with wide, black as coal pupils-

Bakugou stares back for a whole five seconds, before he roars with every curse he knows, shows a very convincing and meaningful middle finger, closes the window curtains and falls on the ground by the wall, hiding his face in his knees.

School had nothing new to meet him with. At this time of the day it was mostly empty besides especially diligent nerds, few unlucky losers and teachers. Deku was still following him. Bakugou payed no attention to him, changed his shoes and went straight to their classroom.

Today was supposed to be the start of preparation for annual exams, career guidance consultations were planned for the last class as well. Bakugou didn't need it, unlike some extras. He knew perfectly where he belonged and where he's going in his life.

Bakugou decided to be a hero in the early childhood, when he saw how grateful people are for their saviours, how happy they look when their idol helps them, how strong and unwavering those professionals are. He was going to become Number One Hero, just like AllMight, even though he understood how serious and dangerous this work is. He has been training, falling, clenching his teeth and continuing for almost his whole life. Bakugou explored his quirk, studied and held the first place in academic performance, strictly followed his sleep schedule, knowing how important balance of rest and work is. Bakugou was obligated to become the best because everyone was saying so. The best Hero ever was raised in the elite U.A. Academy, hence Bakugou was supposed to be in there too.

That's what Bakugou told everyone without a second thought. What he will not tell them is that Katsuki is extremely delighted by the fact that quirkless people can't attend U.A. Which means he will be free from Deku. For the first time in forever he would be able to live a life without acid green eyes with wide pupils. For the first time in forever he would be able to sleep without fear to see someone behind his window. For the first time in forever he would be able to not act like an asshole and finally make friends and maybe even find a partner!

For the last few years the dweeb calmed down, of course, the jerk finally accepted his inevitable loss. Bakugou was not only going to study in a different academy, which in and of itself would not change much in his personal life, but he was also going to live in the dorm near U.A., for those who can afford it.

And Bakugou can fucking afford it!

His desk as always met the blond with shining cleanness. Bakugou fished out his books, threw up his legs on the desk and relaxed leaning on the back of his chair. Itching on the back of his head was irritating. Bakugou can feel stares even with closed eyes.

Classes had started and went as usual. Their homeroom teacher entered the class on the last hour. Career guidance was going to be about forty minutes, after that Bakugou could go on a walk with bully-praising extras and have some sort of rest, not afraid of spying.

Bell ringed in the hallway. Bakugou allowed himself to doze off, his heart pounding slowly but sharply. He knew what he wanted, but his classmates didn't. Perhaps, when he will become a hero, they would understand that he's not a bully, but a newbie hero and would want to talk with him...

"C'mon, class! You're middle school seniors! It's time you started thinking about your futures!"– teacher smashed blank forms on his desk with passion.– "I'll be handing out printouts on your desired life-course!... But you all want to be heroes, don't you?"

Katsuki almost let his smile slip when his classmates have activated quirks and cheerfully bawled. Almost. Acid glare was still piercing a hole in his head. His gentle smile shifted into a smug grin. In some way, Bakugou was proud of his reflex.

Reflex to turn fear and anxiety into confidence, apathy or fury.

"Yes, yes, your quirks are all wonderful! But it's against the rules to use them during school!"

Shivers on his skin forced Bakugou to open his mouth.

However sometimes reflex plays against his owner.

"Sensei, don't lump me in with everybody else!"– his legs, that were placed on the desk, trembled slightly.– "You can't compare me to these losers' weak ass quirks! Mine's a whole other ballgame! C'mon old man!"

"You've got a big mouth, Katsuki!"– someone screamed in the mob of angry classmates.

Bakugou felt like everyone screamed.

Blond didn't stop smiling whatsoever, instead he narrowed his eyes and cursed back.

"Oh, yeah, I'd forgotten... Bakugou's shooting for U.A High, isn't he?"– teacher responded not even trying to calm the class down anymore.

Bakugou climbed on his desk like a drowning sailor trying to take a higher place, growled and mixed in his voice were his true feelings and scared rambling. In the end of his little speech Bakugou couldn't even remember what he was talking about. Something about AllMight and taxpayers?

Then he heard teacher saying:
"Oh. Now that you mention it. Didn't Midoriya want to go to U.A as well?"

Bakugou's heart fell down, dead, met his buried below fears and shattered in billions tiny pieces.

He knew, knows that when Deku gets an idea he will find a way to fulfill it. But it was supposed to be the end of his suffering. The end of stalkering, glares and thefts. The end of loneliness. And the start of New Katsuki. So why... Why... Why it's always...

"Eat shit, De-e-e-eku-u-u-u!"– Bakugou sprang from his chair, light explosions dancing on his palms, and blew up Deku's desk.– "Forget having weak ass quirk! You don't even have a fucking quirk! So where do you get off putting yourself on the same level as me?!"

Bakugou did not distinguish Deku's words and nervous whimpers, there was basically no point, because he could see how dark pupils became even wider, like an empty black abyss. All of this was a facade. A big lie to scare his classmates away from Katsuki, to make them see him as a narcissistic maniac. Ha, the jerk is unlucky that society hates quirkless people more than bullies!

"You never know till you try?... The exam is hopeless for you!"– throat painfully squeezed from coming tears, his voice becoming hoarse.– "What can a dweeb like you accomplish?!"

The last thirty minutes of class Bakugou spent on listening to his pulse, catching his breath and clenching his fists till his knuckles became bone white. The exact moment the door was closed behind their teacher, Bakugou stood up and grabbed "notebook for analysis" from Deku's shivering hands. There's number thirteen on this one. Bakugou's fury flared up. It was another fucking lie! At least six of those notebooks are not about analysis, but about Katsuki himself.

"Give that back, t-that's mine!"– dweeb's voice sounded truly worried.

Which means, this stupid notebook contains more about him,
his quirk,
his look,
his habits,
his eyes,
his hair,
his teethhisvoicehisclotheshispreferences-

Irritated exhale.

Bakugou smashed the thin notebook between his palms with pleasure. Second later it's burnt and crispy, flying to the small pool under the class' windows. Deku was trembling under his arm, the explosion quirk wielder unashamedly showed him his sharp scowl while burning the surface of the other’s uniform. Burnt odor and Bakugou's own raucous whispering. Why don't he just die? Disappear out of Katsuki's life? Disgusted click of tongue and Bakugou was leaving, not looking back. He had no fucking wish to stay in one room with this freak longer than he already did.

Extras went after him, in their eyes was fear, uncertainty and admiration. They are with him just because they admire his power, his quirk. This is good enough. When Bakugou has someone by his side, Deku is afraid to come too close or to stalk him when Bakugou is trying to rest. It doesn't matter, what they think, what's important is that their presence scares the freak off.

Today is a good day. It is going to be good. Katsuki will go on a walk, maybe even visit the arcade!

Bakugou was breathing slowly, feeling a strange emptiness inside of him, somewhere inside his lungs.

Did Bakugou act too cruel? Yes.

Yes and he knew about it. He really, really tried to understand why Midoriya acts like he does. The blond got somewhat used to it in childhood. He endured strange looks, possessive behaviour and jealousy, because Izuku still was a wonderful friend of his. They knew each other from the playpen, literally. Together they wrote the first hero-analysis notebook, well Katsuki wrote, Izuku dictated, they played video games, watched films, had sleepovers.

Then Katsuki got his quirk.

Something changed.

Shaky bridge of trust between them broke.

Katsuki couldn't bear that stare anymore.

It was the first time he ever cried with the whole power of his lungs. It's not like Deku even knows about it. Aunty Inko took monster Izuku away, when she realised Katsuki was afraid of something. Mom stayed with him on that night and-...

Smell of tobacco reached Bakugou's nostrils. Sparkles started their play on his palms.

"Haven't I told you to stop smoking?! If we are caught, then all my recommendations will burn in flames!"– Bakugou didn't really hope extras will notice a small "us" in his words, but he still floundered.

Moment later he has noticed the terrified looks on the extras' faces. Kyoske and Kariage (he knew all of his classmates by names) were shaking in pure fear and poking in blond's direction. Emptiness in his lungs grew heavier. Were they looking at that maniac?...

"Oh~... Nice, a new guise... And one with a tasty quirk too..."

Gurgling voice, warm and watery. Thoughts had stopped. Kyoske and Kariage were running away in terror, yelling for help, while a disgusting wave of trash and dirty water fell on Bakugou's head. It covered him, pressing down, sneaked into his uniform and bag, squished his neck cartilages strangling the blond slowly, something forcefully squeezed his jaw and opened his mouth, letting part of the slime to go in.

Villain, mutation quirk probably, which allows owner to posses someone's body.

Bakugou was trying to spark explosions, sweat increase helped to make them more destructive and flashing but even that was not enough. Gurgling giggles sounded right above his ears, villain pressed more force on his neck, took control over the blonde's hands just like one's of a puppet and easily redirected explosions towards buildings. Katsuki's heart skipped a beat.

Seconds became minutes, minutes felt like an eternity. Eternity of meaningless fight full of pain, horror and humiliating giggles that seemed to come from bellow his own skull.

It felt like his ribs were smashed and compressed, ears were burning from loud noises. Mob gathered around, watched his upcoming death with interst, as answer Bakugou growled louder and struggled harder. Pointless. Dirt strangled him, every next inhale was harder to make than previous, darkness clouded his vision, but even in such conditions he noticed bright costumes of the heroes. Kamui Woods, Doomfists, Fire Hydrant and new heroine Mountain Lady. They were looking at him worryied, but did nothing. Why? Fire that his explosions caused would stop Kamui, but he could wet his quirk's branches with Hydrant's Quirk; Doomfists could rush forward, not to get into a fight, but just to grab Bakugou from the dirty clod; Mountain Lady was generally higher above them, casting a shadow... She could easily pull his body out of the villain with only two fingers.

Maybe Bakugou just doesn't deserve to be saved... Maybe this is the punishment, because instead of admitting his weakness and tell someone about Deku, he mocked the nerd. Maybe it's his fate. Pitiful death. It's hilarious how pitiful his whole life has flowed since the appearance of his quirk. The same quirk that was his pride and joy. Ha...

Maybe an ordinary person could have lasted longer. But Bakugou is sweating with a substance similar to nitroglycerin. Bakugou lives on nitroglycerine. Of course heroes couldn't be blamed for not knowing all the nuances, because even he himself did not know about them all yet.

His pulse is slower than one of most people, long time ago he had to take adrenaline pills so his heart wouldn't suddenly stop beating in the middle of the lesson. Bakugou simply didn't have enough air to disperse the blood through the vessels quickly enough and death was slowly crawling close, no matter how often the blond managed to take another breath.

Bakugou, whose soul is leisurely leaving his body, watched with slight interest at the last shots of his life. Crowd of onlookers, burning buildings and a blue sky. So beautifully wonderful, if not for the flames and the drops of dirt pressed on his eyes.

And green curls. Those stupid green curls. There was no need to look closer, he knew they'll be there. Poisonous eyes. Acid glare. Black abyss.

Bakugou had shrinked deeper into the dirt in horror, making the situation worse. Deku sprang and ran towards him with a wry smile. There was strange excitement in his eyes, an anticipation of something. Maybe his death? Then why was this idiot running towards him? Did he want to take Bakugou's fucking corpse to his room like a trophy? Please, please, let the villain eat him, it's better than being the toy of this... Of that...

Monster

Yellow backpack flew right in the face of the villain, Bakugou was given an extra couple of breaths before the sweet bliss.

Please, please, just let him die.

"Deku!”– Bakugou screamed with a tremble, which was hidden behind a hoarseness from his throat, torn to blood.– “Why are you here?!"

The Monster jumped on the villain. His acid eyes were right in front of Bakugou's, in them he saw reflections of his scarlet irises, watered with tears.

"My legs moved on their own... I don’t know why..." – the terrifying whisper sounded like thunder in Bkugous ears.– "Maybe ... Because your eyes are so wonderfully begging..."

Bakugo shut his eyes so hard, he saw stars for a minute.

These eyes. Those giant pupils.

Shaky breath full of surprised pleasure, like a zoologist who has discovered a seemingly extinct species. Nervous smile from trembling lips. Skinny fingers reaching to touch Katsuki's face, to caress it, to dig nails in skin. Monster was having fun.

Bakugou did fucking not.

"Go away! Go away! Let me die in peace! Let me die and never see your damn eyes again!"– Katsuki's thoughts boomed in his mind.

Darkness surrounded him. Eyes rolled back... Silence. Grave silence. Ringing and soothing. Slight pain in the wrist. Finally he was alone...

Alone...

A cough pulled the blond out of the darkness. Flesh-slime was pouring out of his lungs and stomach, already beginning to decompose without connection to the main body, a trickle of blood mixed with saliva flowed down his lip leaving an iron taste on the tongue. Ability to hear came back slowly, sounds were like from an old radio. Katsuki opened his eyes and looked at gray asphalt and the fiery dance of sparks on his own palms. Astonishing.

Katsuki wanted to smile just like in childhood when he made his first stable explosion. But the corners of his lips and cheekbones were hurt from muscle stretch.

Realization struck him with force of ten trucks. Bakugou furrowed his brows.

Deku saved him.

Saved? Why would he? He had been bullying him since elementary school!

Bakugou couldn't stand that look and not get angry. He burned his notebook, which Midoriya diligently filled.

Bakugou was afraid to see himself in it.

The explosive boy rejected the old friendship and did not support any of the decisions made by broccoli head.

Because every decision was Bakugou's worst nightmare.

Why was Deku still trying to do something? Why did he even care?

Was Bakugou really just a bully?

Bully. A villain who doesn't want to accept friendship...

But he tried! Bakugou tried to understand the nerd, to provide support, did he not?... What if everything was just... A misunderstanding? Was that possible? No, that whisper... That whisper was far from a misunderstanding... The Monster was real... Right? It had been so long since he'd seen the same Izuku he'd met in childhood, instead panicked Bakugou avoided Deku. Could it be that he hadn't noticed his old friend's return?

Bakugou listened with one ear to a retelling of events from a reporter a couple of meters to the right. The mud villain fled from All Might and decided to take a hostage, Bakugou, who could not be saved, because no one of present heroes had a suitable quirk. While Pro Heroes were deciding what to do, a quirkless daredevil boy threw a backpack at the villain, few moments later AllMight appeared and saved them both, hostage and reckless boy.

Technically, Izuku didn't save him... Not really...

"I'm willing to take you as my sidekick when you grow up!"– an unknown hero boasted and tapped Bakugou's shoulder.

"Fuck you,"– Bakugou croaked and turned towards his way home.

If Bakugou apologizes, it will not hurt. In the end it's better to do more than less, that's what Bakugou always thought, which hasn't changed after so many years of heroic training. Everything will be fine. He'll be all right.

Bakugou shuffled towards home looking at the green trees. Bright and wonderful, flowers bloomed on several of them. Looming ahead was a yellow backpack and green curls resembling the trees.

Katsuki took a deep breath.

"Deku! I!…”

Green head turned so fast, Bakugou could swear he heard a crack.

Acid. Posion.

Smile cracked, trembling white lips.

Black.

So much black.

Deku is excited.

Fuck.

Bakugou carefully broke through sudden hoarseness in his throat:
“I never asked anyone to save me, especially you!… In fact, you didn’t even save me! I did it myself! I won't let a guy with no quirk, a useless rat like you, look at me like that! Do you think I owe you something? Don't you even dare to look in my direction, you understand?! Fucking dweeb!"

No.

It was He

He did not deserve an apology. Bakugou turned around faster than Deku could answer. He had simply no desire to feel goosebumps on his tired muscles. If Deku was staring at the blond, he was too tired to realize it.

"Witch! Dad! I'm back home!” Bakugou kicked off his shoes and limped through a quiet hallway into the house.

For an answer was silence. He completely forgot that they would be working late. Mom as a famous photographer, and dad as a respected designer in the fashion world both often got buried with work. Bakugou understood that their good life comes from a lot of work, so he never complained. But today it was like a finishing punch in the guts, bruising his soul more and more.

Did mom and dad even know that he was held fucking hostage?

People are afraid of him for what he does not want to do;
he is hated for what he despises;
he is praised for what he does not consider important.

Katsuki was just tired. He wants to return to his childhood, when he could smile, hug his parents without seeing shocked faces, when he could show his fear and ask for help. When Deku was still Izuku, kind and caring like Aunty Inko, even if cunning.

Vision blurred. His legs barely carried him to the couch. Katsuki immediately dismissed the idea of going to his room, it seemed so far away on the second floor. Salty tears wet the pillow, clogged the nostrils and reached the trembling lips. Dirt, blood and slimy mud were all over his body, but Bakugou... Couldn't. Couldn't do anything, but clench his teeth and sob, desperately failing at stopping tears.

Katsuki didn't have the strength to think anymore. He closed his eyes, tucked the decorative pillow under him and drifted off to sleep. He will need to wash the pillowcase later, otherwise Witch will swear a lot...

Chapter Text

Bakugou was satisfied with the odds that Deku will pass. Approximately zero point and one thousand, taking into account the exam where participants have to destroy robots. How can someone defeat them without having a quirk? Yes, it is possible if you're on a good hand with technology or have enough dexterity and know martial arts, but the nerd has never ever trained once, all his life he did only one thing. Maybe two. Whined and followed behind as a doormat he is.

This means there won't be any stalkers in the Academy. Bakugou would have to endure Deku only at home – because you can't just get rid of your neighbors obviously, especially Auntie Inko, she doesn't deserve this – but when he gets an apartment in the dormitory near the U.A. everything will change! A whole new world awaits! Walks, friends, communication, games, and maybe even relationships! Bakugou smiled with unusually soft and round lip tips, as he boarded the bus that will take students to the "A" area.

The advantage of being first in line is the choice of seat. Bakugou after a moment of thought took the double seat at the end so he would have only one person to talk with, so he can settle in steadily with all that friendly talk stuff. Shake off the dust, so to speak. Before, in the kindergarten, Katsuki had a lot of friends...

Bus itself was spacious, modern looking outside and inside. Comfy seat were colored deep blue. Everything, including the ride itself, was controlled by AI. And there are air conditioners! Amazing! It meant Bakugou will not stain everything with poisonous prints of nitroglycerine. It's not like it's that dangerous, but breathing it definitely is not going to make any good to anyone. The last thing he wants is to get a fine for hurting someone.

Thoughts of his quirk problems, made him automatically check his adrenaline pills in the pocket of his hiking pants. It never hurts to be prepared. Better to overdo than to do less.

People came in, one by one, including Bakugou's next-seat mate. A guy about the same height as him, light brown shortcut hair and big confused eyes. He was wearing a simple blue tracksuit with a T-shirt underneath.

Bakugou stared at the print on T-shirt for a long time. "EN". It stands for "Endangered" in English, doesn't it? He could be wrong of course, but somehow word "endangered" fitted perfectly for scared boy next to him. The explosive guy made an attention-grabbing chuckle.

"Ello? What's funny?"– boy responded, puzzled and slightly frightened. – "Do I look so stupid in this suit? It's not mine, I swear! I'm just wearing out my brother's."

Katsuki laughed louder, stopped after few seconds with cough and smiled, cheekbones itchy. Damn it, this was so stupid! Who would have known that it is so energy-consuming to smile? Are there smile workouts on Internet?

"Nothing, I'm just laughing at the words on your T-shirt"– the bus moved off.– "Suits well your fear and scared bunny eyes."

"I was born with face like that!"– seatmate looked offended.

"Sorry. You have a cool face,"– Katsuki replied with a businesslike tone and held out his hand.– "I'm Katsuki Bakugou by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Mph... Kosei Tsuburaba."– Tsuburaba looked confused, he pouted his lips but still shook extended hand.– "You don't look nervous at all."

"You're right,”– Katsuki snorted and hid his thumbs in pockets.– “Honestly, I feel happier than ever!”

"What the hell were you doing to be so excited about fighting hugeass robots?” Tsuburaba pursed his pouty lips and raised eyebrows.

"Not what the hell, Tsuburaba-kun. Who the hell,”– blond assuringly patted the boy’s shoulder. “Get up, we’ve arrived. Good luck buddy."

"Huh, thanks, uh… Bakero-kun?” Kosei's forgetful mistake was not heard.

The crowd was a little stuffy, explosive boy constantly pushed. But Katsuki smiled to everyone nevertheless. After all, he was not some kind of school bully or villain anymore, but a real aspiring hero. Someone was dressed in a beta version of their future costumes, someone was in a sportswear, while the blond himself was standing relaxed in only black T-shirt, pants and sneakers. Katsuki didn't need much except for skill. He was confident.

Humongous false town infront of Katsuki made him wonder, how much space U.A. actually takes. From his research he already knew about Unforseen Simulation Joint, USJ for short, and pretty much everyone know about damn stadium with surrounding area for stalls with food and souvenirs. Now Katsuki knows that there's at least five small empty towns just for exam and probably training. Marvelous. What else Academy had to offer?

False city towered upon the examiners. Silent, with no light or flickering in any window. It was separated from the waiting plateau by high cement walls and a gate with no visible opening mechanism. "The work of the hero Cementos. His quirk would be perfect for this,"– Katsuki guessed. Unlike stupid Deku, he doesn't need to carry fifteen notebooks with him to memorize this.

The memory of Deku's "analys" made Bakugou furrow. Maybe the nerd is stupid and weak, true, but he has this cunning and a very strange kind of charisma... People look at his pitiful face and pathetic cries, BOOM, moment after they want to help him. It has always been so. If it was not, Katsuki wouldn't turn into an anti-social scarecrow. Deku's regular self-humiliation distanced Bakugou and himself from their classmates, but Deku seemed to be even pleased with this. Katsuki clicked tongue.

What if Deku will pass the test? In a roundabout way, cheating, finding a loophole, whatever! This monster would do anything to follow him. Smile disappeared from Bakugou's face, replaced by displeased grimace. No, it couldn't be. Green hair psychopath has calmed down in recent years, right? Bakugou was just exaggerating it, isn't he? Hardly anyone cares so much to keep an eye on him... On Bakugo... Right? Of course he is cool and his quirk is fantastic, but... But there are so many better people. At least nicer. Victims don't follow after their bullies, do they?...

Bakugo clenched his sweaty palms, ignited some sparks and gritted his teeth, his jaw creaking.

He was scared. And he was angry. So damn angry.

Time slowed down, those who around him cautiously moved away, noticing sparks flying off to the sides.

Inhale, exhale.

Only minute ago, they felt comfortable next to him. They were smiling back, mumbling cheerful "good luck"s. But, of course, no one remembered it now that he was damn polite and friendly, remembered that perhaps he was worried or nervous as everyone else. No one ever simply cares! Only move away in horror from explosive bully, of course!

Things never change so easily.

Bakugou understands it. He understands it very well. He had experience, a lot of it, you could say. So why does it hurt so much?

"Begin!"

Goosebumps ate the sides of his chest first, then recounted ribs and raised the hairs on his arms. Moment later Bakugou rushed forward. Screams from an unexpected explosion were heard behind him. He didn't care about extras. He will go to the best hero course, where Deku will not be able to pass with any tricks. And only there he will begin his social life.

The fact that a couple of people dislike him now? Get them to Hell. He deserves some fucking joy.

He was living his whole life in a constant preparation to become a hero. He was eating, sleeping, resting, breathing only to be one. He never even considered for a second to find different job.

For Katsuki it was not just a job. Not a way to gain money or respect. His parents had them already and shared easily with their talented son. Not a stupid childish dream or death wish of someone close. Many people are wishing to be a hero, but they never think about how dangerous it is. Bakugou did. Still, he proceeded, knowing very well that there's a possibility to die at his early twenties.

For Katsuki it was destiny. Everyone told him how amazing of a hero he would be. Everyone supported him. Everyone expected it naturally from him. But most importantly, Katsuki needs it.

To save. To help. To inhale dust of crashing buildings. To exhale, placing a punch on villain's jaw. To be in danger and to get rid of a cause of danger. He knows how scary life can be, he doesn't want anyone to feel more fear by meeting a crazy villain. Katsuki probably would become a vigilante, if Hero Course is not a place for him.

Robots were getting destroyed so easily and quickly that it became a great anti-stress. There were no wounds, only sweat on his hands that added sparks to his power. Frightened faces and defensive hands flickered past. Bakugou bit his tongue until it bled, studiously ignoring them. Only once he stopped, bewildered, in front of a robot, that had fallen on the spot without a reason, to look at the gloves flying in the air. "Invisible quirk,"– Bakugou understood and snorted in annoyance, horrified inside at the thought that someone has the ability to sneak into his room and he won't notice it.

Robots are like stupid dummies – they are easy to trap and bomb them in batches. Blond's knuckles were reddened and only when light in every robot's sensors faded Bakugou snapped back to reality. Bakugou belatedly realized that he was standing in complete silence. Hear aids got turned off from too loud noises, plunging boy into silent zen. Small headphones were supposed to "simulate" his quirk's defending mechanisms which is completely deafening owner. Katsuki picked aids with his fingers, fished them out of his ears and putted them in his pockets.

He will hear again five minutes later, but for the moment Bakugou needed peace. If someone tried to call him, they did not succeed.

Mom and dad were waiting for him at home. Bakugou hesitated in front of the door. Should he behave as he wanted or should he continue his usual full of aggression life? The kitchen window was open, from which light poured onto the lawn. Bakugou heared the conversation.

"...Dummy," – mom's husky voice. - "Obviously, he will pass."

"But this is U.A. What makes you so sure?... Anything can happen."

"Okay. You're right,”– Bakugou could imagine how she glanced at her dad with sarcasm.– “Our son – who's actively narcissistic and smug so much that the devil himself is likely to get scared at the sight of him – of course! He can lose. And "lose", I quote, is the answer to the line " what do you hate?" since he was seven. He definitely can lose because he doesn't have perfect quirk, best grades in the whole neighborhood and has fucking rich ass parents. Yes, he definitely does not have all one hundred and one percent in success."

"Haha, okay, you're right, dear." Bakugou heared his parents kissing.

"Can it be somehow different on your opinion, dork?"

Bakugou guiltily hissed and rubbed his tired eyes. Perfect devil, huh, how ridiculous... What would mom and dad think if they found out that Bakugou was just a coward, afraid of some frail nerd? Not only afraid, but not even capable of asking for help, although he promised his dad the opposite in childhood. And what will He do to his parents when He founds out they know?

He won't disappoint the only people who care about him.

Bakugou doesn't want them to know about his fear.

Katsuki doesn't want them to be worried.

He's not a coward! This is protection. Simple protection.

"Dad! Old hag! Am home!"

"Who do you call old hag, brat?!"

"Stop yelling! You will wake up all fucking neighbours!"

"Stop yell yourself!"

"I yell, because you yell, Witch!"

"Please, let's not scream at each other and instead start to celebrate..."

Chapter Text

Bakugou clenched his teeth in a furious grin, his soul screaming at the news that Deku passed the exam at U.A.

They stood side by side in the director's office. Voices, surroundings, everything turned into muddy spots, floating past by. Bakugou was trembling, shaking in fear and anger, while Deku simply continued to smile wryly. This doormat was not even a little bit interested.

No way quirkless person passed the exam! They fought fucking robots for God's sake! How did Deku, who couldn't even stand up for himself, pass?! The blonde's red eyes darted around the room, as if hoping to find an explanation. Everything he aspired to, his goal for which he tried and continued to endure, now it's all... Meant nothing, wasn't it?

No. Hold it. He... There's still a chance to get rid of him! Bakugou just needs to... Scare the freak! Something like... Break his arm! Leg! Anything!

Bakugo didn't know what to do. He felt like he was drowning yet again, the smell of phantom mud pressed against his face. Clenched fists, white lips and flared nostrils. From the outside, Bakugou looked terribly furious.

On the inside Katsuki was ready to cry. Like fucking baby, that is.

There was nothing new. Get Deku in a corner, set fire to his uniform, hiss insults right in his face and punch him a couple of times, hoping freak will learn where his place is.

What actually was new is the reaction he got. Fear raced through every bone and organ in Bakugou's body as Deku grabbed the arm that was pinning his frail body against the wall, preventing the bullying. The blond succumbed to the reflexes of the body and moved away, but the fear in the transition became rage.

Bakugou made deep breath, letting sparks spread across the palms. This jerk wants his bones broken so much, huh? With a fleeting hiss explosions hid in fists.

Calmness came. He is not a villain. He is not a monster. Katsuki won't break anyone's bones, not even Deku's, to get his way. He left nerd in dirty shadowed corner, freak just was watching his back disappear behind a building with quivering eyes. Bakugou shuffled back home, greeted his parents and spent the rest of the day spacing out.

There were bruises on Bakugou's wrist, dark purple finger prints wrapped around it like a snake, that became greenish after sleep. Fortunately, uniform will hide these imperfections and the expensive salve will completely remove them by the next day.

Bakugo reaches the academy surrounded by complete silence, no one else is on the streets. Surprisingly, Deku doesn't follow him this time. Which is very strange and suspicious, but the blond is not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He fishes out hearing aids and inserts headphones into his ears. Katsuki loves to listen to rock with drums part that stand out. The walk in school almost feels peaceful.

In class there's two people, fancy girl with black hair in ponytail and square-like boy with glasses. Later immediately reacts with resentment on Bakugou putting his foot on the table. Strange boy starts long and boring lecture about hygiene and manners, but Bakugou's sure he knows better than some rich amateur from elite school.

Firstly, it's his desk and he can do whatever he fucking wants with it. Secondly, his shoes are as clean as it possible for shoes to be, new and shiny. Thirdly, he's not going to lick his own desk, so what's the hecking problem? Nitroglycerin from his hands is much more dangerous than dust from shoes so Bakugou will have to wipe the table every morning anyway.

They argue while more and more students appear and take a sit. Well, it's hard to call it arguing. Bakugou just stares back most of the time, clearly annoyed, sometimes attempting to tell rich boy to fuck off.

Without result nevertheless.

Bakugou scratches his nose, absolutely unaffected by another passionate speech from Four Eyes. It's a lame nickname, Katsuki can admit, terrible even for his standard, but... This rich extra doesn't look like someone who deserves proper nickname, frankly speaking.

The door is once again opened by someone's smooth movement. The man quietly walks inside, not introducing himself as some of the others. What a disgrace. Bakugo looks up at Four-Eyes with a grin and decides to end this circus. Was he some fucking loser to take shit so easily?!

"Remove your foot from that desk! Such an action is insulting to those who came to U.A. before us, as well as the craftsmen who made the desk!"

Perhaps Bakugou can't comprehend the nonsense shit coming from Four-Eyes' mouth, but he definitely can defend himself. "Breath in, breath out. Look this asshole straight in the eyes and explain you will have to clean your desk afterwards anyway,"– Katsuki thinks and relax. He can do it.

It's never late to be a better person.

"Like I care,"– snort sounds mocking.–"What middle school are you from, extra?"

Welp. "Forget everything I thought, it is too late, I guess."

Four-Eyes freezes for a second, but then straightens his posture and with sharp hand moves claims:
"I-I'm from Somei private academy. My name is Tenya Iida."

Wow, that's annoyed Katsuki even more. Incredible. His life is already ruined, but now he needs to study in the same class as this pathetic elite wet blanket? Fighting the urge to massage bags under his eyes, Bakugou leans forward.

"Somei? A stuck-up elitist, then? I should blow you to bits,"– blond says, his brows violently twitching.

"Blow me to bits?!"– after a loud terrified scream Four-Eyes produced, Bakugou on one second even considers he acted a little bit too harsh.– "You're awful. Do you really wish to become a hero?"

But oh well. Only on one second. Bakugou now hates Four-Eyes with the same passion other boy cares about manners.

His heart skips a beat.

Bakugou furrows.

He smell familiar weak sweet scent of his quirk. He's sweating. He's nervous.

Bakugou does hate that rich snob, but he's not afraid. What's wrong?

Four-Eyes turns to the side of the room where enter is. Standing in doors there is a boy with green hair and big watery eyes.

Ah. That's why.

Somehow, Four-Eyes leaving him be in favour of talking with freak, hurts Katsuki more.

Bakugou clicks tongue and leans back on his chair. Deku's voice is mixing with others students'. They're praising him for something, talking with him in a friendly manner. Bakugou wonders, if normal people like crying weaklings more than athletes. Because his parents' friends adored blond's look and attitude, calling it magnetic, and on the contrary were tired of trembling newbies. Were adults so much different from high schoolers? Or was it work differences?

The blond stays silent and glares at the new desk at the academy, trying to ignore stuttering Deku interacting with his classmates. Of course this damn crook got into the A class! How could it be otherwise? They were supposed to be Bakugou's classmates, even that stuck-up snob, not just another "extras". A term he coined for everyone who easily could be brainwashed with tears and a wry smile, not smart enough to see through deceit and wide pupils. Time showed it's mostly everyone.

But it is when he has to go into the locker room Bakugou realizes that his life will turn into a fucking blazing Hell for the next three years of training, which were supposed to be Heaven not so long ago.

The U.A. tracksuit is made of a more durable material than a regular one, colored a royal blue with white and red stripes. Bakugou tries to focus on the physical prove of honour he holds in his hands and he does it surprisingly easily. Katsuki's childhood dream, that he adored for his whole life, becomes true. Under the U.A. tracksuit Bakugo leaves a black T-shirt, just for the sake of convenience and habit.

He does not regret.

As soon as the locker door closes they immediately appear behind it.

Green eyes with wide pupils.

They look at each other for a few seconds. Deku breaks into a wry smile that extras mistake for a nervous one. But Bakugou sees his lower lip and brows trembling with joy, hears deep breaths as if freak is trying to taste the air between them, and feels the close attention that adequate people don't give without special reason. Throat constricts, the lungs are pressed down, sweat on the palms profusely flows to the tips of the fingers. He was watched.

No. He didn't just watched.

Bakugou was examined. Studied. Like a fucking lab rat. While he was getting dressed.

"Huph,”– Bakugou snorts, his tongue refusing to move and form any words.

Of course, even leaving, he feels the look. That disgusting look. Is this psychopath not even afraid that others will notice such behavior?

Oh right. Naturally, they won't notice! Because he is a poor and pathetic Deku, and Bakugou is a strong, born gifted, badass bully!

Fucking idiots.

Bakugou shakes his hands, launching a stream of imperceptible sparks from his middle fingers to his wrists. Excess sweat must be got rid of. Extras can think as much as they like that his quirk was given to him easily and immediately strong, this does not change the truth. Nitroglycerin is dangerous to health, especially if not to follow proper dosing; even in small doses, it lowers blood pressure, in addition, it also causes convulsions. What annoys Katsuki the most is that he smells sweet as hell. Because of this, he has to spray cologne every day, otherwise he will smell like damn melted candy on a stick.

Honestly speaking, his sweat isn't exactly nitroglycerin. If it was, he would have to wear isolation suits every day to not poison anyone who touches his notebook or backpack, but even if not pure chemical, his sweat is still dangerous.

While Bakugou is lost in thought, the people around him finally come out. The extras smile from ear to ear, chirp senselessly and jostle in a friendly manner. Aizawa Shota is strange man, looking like he hasn't slept more than hour in his life, with greasy hair and clothes that look dubiously like pajamas. Bakugou just hopes, the man doesn't turn out to be another freak. One is enough.

"A test... Of our quirks?!" – extras shout. – "What about the entrance ceremony or guidance sessions?!"

"No time to waste on that stuff if you want to become heroes. U.A. is known for it's «freestyle» educational system," – Aizawa hides his face with a strange white scarf. – “That freedom also applies to us, teachers."

Explosive quirk owner squints and examines the man's face. Month-old stubble, bags under the eyes that don't show anything close to Deku's venom and madness. Bakugou decides that he is worth trusting and does not resent when the teacher is self-willed. Blond has nothing to be afraid of, because he haven't been waking up at six in the morning from the age of seven only to cry, unable to do physical test.

"Bakugou-kun…”– The blonde’s eyes meet with Aizawa's and his face relaxes into «slightly vicious». –“How far did you throw the ball in middle school?"

"Sixty seven meters."

"Now use your quirk." Aizawa tosses him a ball with a thick protective coating as Bakugou stands up. "As long as you're in the circle, you can do whatever you want."

Ha! Easy. Would be.

If not for the distraction.

Green curls and venomous eyes peep out from the crowd of extras. They are so focused on him that they resemble a rifle scope.

Bakugou swallows. It was pretty common before. When Deku was gazing, Katsuki would look away and click tongue. When Deku was sneaking behind, Katsuki would loudly converse with someone adding swears every third word. When Deku was writing about him in his stupid notebook, Katsuki would blow the shit out of the freak. Katsuki made a victim out of the only person he feared.

But now, Bakugou is the one who haunted. He can't fight back. He can't let the words flow from his mouth, so at least his soul could be at peace.

Everything Bakugou can at this point is to stand still and do what he was told to.

Acid eyes watch.

Monster is about to pull the trigger.

The bullet will break out of the barrel with a deafening roar and pierce the heart; blood will flow down in a scarlet slow stream and dead body will fall limply on the grass.

Bakugou squeezes the ball, grins, and raises his arms at lightning speed, tensing his muscles like springs.

Relax, Katsuki.

It's fine.

Breath.

It's just Deku. It's just a look. It's just a ruined life.

You only need to improve the blast wave and throw.

"DI-I-I-I-IE!!" – Bakugo screams from the bottom of his lungs, squinting and exhaling through his teeth.

The ball flies forward, the bright light is blinding, quirk ignores the hearing aids and make Bakugou deaf for a second. With the return of hearing, delighted sighs and envious voices of extras appear. Something in his life will never change. Bakugou turns to face the crowd. Deku has a wry smile on his face again. Disgusting.

"Whoa! This is awesome!” a pink-skinned girl with horns bounces in place.

"Seven hundred and five meters! For real?!"– picks up the vibe a seemingly ingenuous kid with giant elbows.

"So we can use our quirks?!"– Pink Cheeks, one of the Deku's new friend, exclaims with anticipation.– "The hero course is amazing! It's going to be so fun!"

Bakugou notices the change in teacher's face. He can't help but smirk.

"Fun, you say?... Do you plan to spend all three years here... Having fun? Have you already changed your mind about becoming heroes?”– Aizawa begins grimly, whose hair cast shadows on his eyes.– "The student with the lowest score will be declared «hopeless»... And will be immediately expelled."

The smile disappears from Deku's face. And Bakugou grins widely back. It finally dawned on the fool that he has every chance to fly out. It is still unclear how freak managed to get into the hero class without a quirk, but now no amount of tears will save him. Thank you, weird ass pajama sensei.

"Our “freedom” also means that we can expel students at our discretion,”– the teacher smiles and Bakugo copies him. “Your fates are at our hands... Welcome to the Hero Class of U.A!"

Plus fucking Ultra.

Bakugo begins a warm-up as the extras begin to take in turns to complete the first challenge, the fifty-meter sprint. Aizawa mumbles under his breath as he watches everyone and counts out their grades. The blond takes every opportunity to piss off the extras, especially Deku. Explosions from his hands right in face with freckles exactly what doctor said, damn it, do it every day and dumbness will disappear. Of course, using the Quirk with both hands at once makes explosions dissipate faster. Kind of "safety catch" that he developed at about ten years, canceling the Quirk so it does not burn through the skin, but even this speed is enough to defeat Deku.

About interesting extras, Bakugou marks out Ponytail Girl with a quirk of creating objects out of her fat, Four-Eyes, who uses Quirk suspiciously like the hero Ingenium, a Bird Boy who talks to his shadow in edgy manner, and Halfling with red-n-white hair, whose physical fitness is even more perfect than blond's own. Oh, there was also this little runt with grape-like hair, who harassed all the girls, despite the requests to stop. Disgusting. Still better than Deku though. Bakugou breathes a sigh of relief as he realizes that his future is not lost.

A couple more days and Bakugou could move into a dorm in dormitory close to Yuei. Dad and Witch did their best seeking for a decent room for one. On the sides there will be neighbours with whom Bakugo hopes to lay down peaceful relationships. It will be great if they are high school students, who do not know his face, or someone from other faculties nearby. If Deku gets kicked out today and right now, with Aizawa's light suggestion, the only thing Bakugou will have to worry about is shared kitchen and bathroom. Everything will be fine! Bakugou diligently cheers himself up while avoiding talking to extras.

It would make it easier, if they just don't have opinion about him at all.

The last test is the ball throwing, from which he is released. Extras stands in organized mob and Deku enters the circle. The nerd is clearly worried and uncomfortable. Bakugou grins and feels incomparable joy and glee.

"Midoriya isn't doing very well" – the surname cuts the ear (This monster has not been Midoriya since long ago), forcing him to look at mumbling Rocket Legs. Hm, that's kind of better than Four-Eyes. But again, this idiot doesn't deserves better.

"Well duh! He’s a quirkless runt!”– Bakugou hisses, frownes, feeling insulted, and realizes, freak has already managed to get under Bakugou's classmates' spine.

"Quirkless?!" – a tall guy waves his arms in bewilderment like a robot. – "So you haven't heard about his feats during the entrance exam?"

"Huh?"– Bakugo raises his eyebrows in real confusion.

They were in different zones, but was Deku really able to do at least something at all and didn’t pass cheating as always?... No, no, no. Bullshit.

Bakugo swallows, nasty goosebumps run down his arms, bruises from Monster's fingers throb.

Deku raises his hand.

Throw. Fo-o-o-osh...

The ball flies forward... And falls forty-eight meters. Unconsciously Katsuki exhales in relief.

Ha! Obviously Deku just fooled everyone as always. He doesn't have a quirk, Bakugou doubts this idiot has pride too. Too cheat at exam in U.A! Pathetic.

Deku and Aizawa are talking about something, but Bakugou only hears his heart pounding in his ears. For a second, he really thought the loser had something on his hands. It wasn't a funny joke at all, to be honest. Now Bakugou felt annoyed by Four-Eyes even more than before.

"Are you worried about him? I'm... Not worried at all!"– exclaims French b-wanna loser.

"Seems like he received some special instructions,"– Four-Eyes proceeds with his nonsense shit talk.

"Yeah,"– Bakugou snorts.– "Instructions to leave this academy."

Unexpectedly, Deku is allowed to throw again. Weakling again stands in a circle. Bakugou almost chuckles, but then he notices the eyes.

Poisonous, but the pupils are terribly narrow instead. Predatory, unhappy and determined. Everyone sees determination. Katsuki sees more. They are full of rage directed at the teacher.

Deku's body turns into a solid spring, like a catapult for a ball. His muscles move under the skin, small greenish lightnings run from the shoulder to the finger. Teeth are clenched so hard that the jaw bones are visible.

In slow motion blond sees a throw. Intuition freezed his body in horror and suddenly came to life, squealing and begging to run as far as possible, as far as legs, arms, body and teeth can reach, if only to get away from Him, advises those around him with an exhausting scream, especially targeted sensei, to do the same.

Katsuki needs to run. No matter where. But away from Monster.

Reflex works for him this time, keeping Bakugou from collapsing on grass in sheer panic.

The ball flies upward at high speeds, creating light recoil waves that raise dust. Deku smiles wryly, his pupils wide again and looking through his teacher. Aizawa is not important to this hideous creature.

Katsuki is having a hard time breathing. He's scared. He feels bad. He is sick. He is going to throw up. He wants to scratch a hole in his head with sweaty hands that smells like fucking licorice, so blond not feel this itching that thumps in his temples like a tocsin, he wants to tear his chest and strangle his treacherous heart which began to beat too slowly due to the increased effect of nitroglycerin.

Instead, Bakugou listens to his reflex's voice and does the best thing he can. Gets angry.

Bakugou explodes rushing forward, with the desire to get rid of the Monster before it's too late. "I earned this"?!... Fucking lie! Deku "earned" to be here?! This is impossible! Freak did nothing in all those years, only cried! And now he suddenly gets strong lightning quirk out of fucking nowhere?!

"What the hell?! Explain yourself, Deku!"– Bakugou approaches on explosions to the target extending his fingers to stifle the danger to his mind health and life, just like his instincts say.

But the body stops half a meter away from Deku. The bands that were Aizawa's scarf are herding Bakugou like a wild dog, preventing him from beating the freak to a pulsing pulp. Poisonous eyes shine with pleasure, although the freckled face speaks of fear. Liar! Damn fucking liar! Deceiver! Fooler! Monster! The only one who is scared here is him! Katsuki, whose life has just rolled down and shattered into millions of billions of pieces of past hopes!

"Huh? What the... This cloth... It's stiff!..."– Bakugou whispers as he stops stretching his arms and succumbs to the pressure.

"It's a «capture weapon» made of carbon fibers and special alloy wire."– Aizawa sighs in annoyance.– "Stop using your quirk already... I'm getting dry eye over here. What a waste of time. Prepare for the next event."

Bands release the blond to freedom. Bakugou looks at his sneakers, embarrassed. Sneakers are black, although he wanted to wear red, but wearing something like Deku is sickening. As sickening as the fact that Pink Cheeks, a girl with a Zero Gravity quirk, sympathizes with this monster that stole all the happiness from the life of his own only childhood friend. Were they even friends, honestly?

But Katsuki has no strength to bark. The blond just grabs his wrist flabbergasted, strokes hiden bruises with his finger and bites his lip. Deku has a quirk. Quirk. He is in U.A. Will he live in a dorm? Will he sit next to Katsuki? Will he watch over him again like he did when Katsuki was a child or will it get even worse? Will he follow him to the bathroom again? Will he try to collect Katsuki's hair like a fucking maniac? Will he start over again, again, again and again those stupid notebooks with drawings of his body, quirks and personal stuff?

Katsuki doesn't care. Doesn't care about the results in which he is third, doesn't care about the fact that Deku is surrounded by extras that could become Katsuki's friends in another universe, doesn't care about those around him, doesn't care that the Monster looks at his sweaty neck, hands and collarbone while Katsuki changes clothes. He has nothing left. The Monster managed to leave for explosive guy only a room full of merchandise, textbooks and simulators. And himself with stupid poisonous eyes.

At home, Katsuki meets loneliness. Again. But it's for the best. The letter on the floor with the dormitory address says he can move in in two days. But Katsuki doesn't care. He doesn't whine, he doesn't cry, he doesn't get angry. He has nothing. The monster took everything with him.

Steam comes out from jacuzzi, filling the bathroom completely. The blond sits in hot water, that burns skin, and draws his knees to the chest. He's not allowed to do this, bathing in hot water. It's unnecessary risk to die from heart attack or convulsion.

Drop. Sweat falls from the nose. Katsuki launches sparks on his hands, sparks launch bubbles.

Drop-drop. How odd, he doesn't usually sweat that much.

Drop-drip. Katsuki takes a deep unstable breath.

Drop-drip-drip. He can hardly see anything because of the steam. It's hard to breathe too.

Drip-drip-drip. Katsuki runs hand over his forehead but there is not much sweat there.

Drip-drip-drip. Fingers grope for tears on the cheeks. He didn't even realize it...

Katsuki isn't sure he can feel anything at all. He hides his face in his knees, closes his eyes and squeezes his wrist until it hurts, where the painfully-colored fingerprints are still visible. Water splashing on fresh small scratches from nails makes the blond exhale. But still nothing.

Katsuki claws his nails harder, spilling drops of blood into the water, where it immediately dissolves. Nothing.

Hands move to the chest. The heart beats slowly. Too slowly. About one per two-three seconds... This not threatens him to die, but fainting does. If he faints, his pulse will become even slower and the body will go under hot water without anyone near to save him. It's not like he will make sound even if there was someone around. Katsuki thinks. Can he do that? Let quirk do what the nitroglycerine supposed to?...

Katsuki sighs. Not tired, not irritated, just sighs, because there is not enough air in the lungs. He climbs out of the hot tub, removes the plug and dresses in loose sleeved clothing. Scratches are treated with iodine and expensive salve. Tomorrow only white scars will remain from them.

Katsuki smiles at his parents when they arrive – he's actually happy to see their caring and loving faces – immediately catches himself and snorts in displeasure.

"I can finally move in dormitory in two days, Witch, dad."

When falling asleep, he thinks: Katsuki is not a weakling, not an extra, problems will not stop him, he will never give up so easily. He will never lose to anyone, not Monster, not classmates, not teacher, not his quirk.

The heart beats slowly.

Maybe he should start taking adrenaline pills again, after those two years.

Chapter Text

He is good. When he raises his palms, where flashes of a manifested quirk appear; when he grins, declaring that this is the strongest quirk in the group – even though these sparks jumping on his skin are not yet a fact that quirk is strong; when he inadvertently glances at the place where I am standing, freezes for a moment and snorts, confident in superiority. Kacchan is good. Although, no more than that. Therefore I'd been following him. Maybe he would lead me to something interesting. But... Then miserable sparks become explosions, sweeping away everything in their path like it's unnecessary garbage. Kacchan's palms, unworthy of the honor of being part of His heroic body, explode from within. As if in slow motion I can see tiny dots swell on the palms, turn white and bloom in scarlet flowers, sparks showering to the floor. But Kacchan doesn't scream. Doesn't cry. Doesn't call for help. He... Grins wider, somehow, squeezes his fingers, causing himself even more pain, and on his own goes to the first-aid post under the dumbfounded looks of classmates. Sensei is spinning around Him, chirping excitedly and nervously at the same time, but He doesn't care. Kacchan is the strongest of all. Stronger than pain, people, animals and me. Kacchan seems perfect. For a moment, nothing remains in the world but memories of bright flashes, bloody chrysanthemums blooming right on his slin, toothy grin of a beast and a smile that conquered pain. It's perfect. The heart shudders in shock, somersaults and climbs out through the throat. Slight trembling in the shoulders and fingers – my mom always says that you are shivering from the cold, but on the contrary, I feel hot, as if something exploded inside. A grenade, like from the superhero movies that Kacchan loves, leaving behind charred crusts and burning bubbles on my insides. This is an amazing feeling. I want more of it. I would like to touch this apotheosis of a man, the beautiful dance of the owner and his quirk, so perfectly suited to each other and forming in tandem devil with a smile. Kacchan is perfect. Nobody but me understands this. Nobody. Nobody. Nobody. And only I will get to reach this miracle. Only I am worthy to learn from this furious flame of bloody colors. Only I will own it. My eidolon. My perfection. My devil.

It's mine.

Ochako smiles at her new friend. On the face of a nervous guy freckles move when he meekly smiles. Deku is one of the kindest and sweetest people she has ever met. His hands are always nervously clasped, even despite his strength, he looks frail, hunchbacked while hiding his head in palms like an ostrich, wears baggy clothes, mumbles and ties his tie incorrectly. The apogee image of a nerd, almost like coerced to a clearly calibrated scenario.

Uraraka holds back a chuckle as he imagines Deku – innocent cinnamon bun with green curls who thanks people for being thankful – messing his clothes on purpose every morning and checking himself in front of the mirror just to look like a nerd. Sounds perfect for some twisted dark movie. At ghis moment in the hands of the curly green is an unknown notebook, into which he writes something without a break. The last ten minutes he managed to fill two pages with tiny handwriting and was not going to stop. The girl looks over his shoulder with interest, trying to make out the sense out of scribbles.

"U-Urararka-san?”– boy smiles dazzlingly, closing the notebook. – “Is something wrong?”

"I'm just wondering what you're writing,"– bubbly girl hears the call for start of the lesson and looks up.– "Bell ring! I'm sorry, Deku-kun, I didn't mean to interrupt you."

Emerald eyes shine in a strange way, his pupils remind Uraraka of an explosion when they widened suddenly and immediately narrowed. He probably really likes his hobby! Perhaps, she can even ask Deku to tell her about.

"No-it's okay, Uraraka-san,"– Deku chuckles nervously.

Yaoyorozu frowns in confusion as Bakugou rushes into battle, ignoring his partner's words. Poor cooperativeness and, in addition, rudeness. It will be difficult with this student, wouldn't it? Especially for poor Iida, who was put in one team with him, what's more – as villains. But it was still weird. Blond boy, although he perfectly described the word "explosion", did not give her the impression of a frivolous person, like Kaminari or Ashido. Why would he be so careless to rush into the battle? Ignore the bomb, that they're supposed to protect? Personal grudge, perhaps?

Everyone in the observation room are chanting as Deku knocks Bakugou over shoulder. Yaoyorozu also lets out satisfied hum, feeling the pleasant pride of the fact that the raw fury is defeated by cold mind. She wouldn't be surprised if the explosive boy turns out to be a bully or a slob, judging by his untucked pants, partly undone shirt and dangling tie.

Bakugou's insanity on camera only escalates as he silently yells and unleashes unnecessary explosions. What a mindless waste of energy! Yaoyorozu doesn’t expect Midoriya to win, but she doesn’t want to believe that this brute will win either. Uraraka, meanwhile, manages to find Iida with the bomb. On the lower floors, Bakugou catches up with Midoriya, frowns, says something and raises his hand with a massive grenade bracer.

"Bakugou-kun, my boy, stop this!”– All Might screams in panic.– “You will kill him!”

In the next second Yaoyorozu realizes what Hero Number One was afraid of. Apparently, Bakugou's quirk allowed him to accumulate strength and fire in a single powerful artificial projectile. On words it's nothing interesting, but the execution: a blindingly bright even on cameras explosion blew up the entire corridor where the two guys were standing, destroyed the load-bearing walls and hit Midoriya straight-on. Midoriya has a first-degree burn on his arm, Bakugou has a smoking bracer. Right now... Wasn't that an assassination attempt?

Her classmates are screaming excitedly, but Yaoyorozu looks at Bakugou's expression. For a second, during the explosion, there was a relief. Relief from the death of an innocent boy. How was he even accepted into Yuei? She takes deep breath in. No, you should first understand the situation. It is worth returning the look to the Bakugou because this time instead of relief, there is an explosive mixture of rage and disappointment. Midoriya stands in front of him and talks, smiling wryly and pressing his burned hand to his chest. Whatever he says Bakugou is not happy about it and yells back, baring his teeth. AllMigh, the only one with headphones, mumbles thoughtfully.

"Bakugou-kun, my boy, if you make another such explosion, your team will automatically lose,"– the American hero begins to reproach.

With every word from Midoriya's mouth Bakugou's stance shifts. It's going to be a fistfight. Within seconds, Midoriya is pinned against the wall. Another silent conversation. Nervous grin on freckled face is getting wider. Yaoyorozu notices how Midoriya's new burn is bleeding. This is second degree burn.

Time bomb, that pretends to be human, has been activated.

Noise, mayhem, unbelievable cctory of the team heroes, pathetic loss of the villains.

Ten seconds was enough.

Yaoyorozu tries to be happy with everyone, but her gaze constantly returns to the monitor. Falling to his knees, hiding his eyes behind spiky hair, Bakugou spaces out with a trembling lip. Devastation. She knows that feeling. She saw it in the mirror when she first came back from U.A. A feeling of hopelessness and guilt at how weak you are compared to those around you.

Would Bakugo be happy if Midoriya died?

AllMight was overjoyed at the victory of his disciple and successor. Of course, both boys got scolded by nurse because hurting themselves, especially in training, is the worst idea that could appear in their already empty heads, but even so, the pride was bursting out of Hero Number One.

Who AllMight is really worried about is Katsuki Bakugou, a boy accustomed to first place since childhood. The devastated face of the loser was often seen by AllMight. He also saw anger, of which there was a sea and more in Bakugou-kun. If only this did not ruin the hopes of the young hero. Man believed there's a lot of good inside explosive boy.

AllMight looks out of the window from the office and freeze. Midoriya and Bakugou facing each other. He cannot see the face of his successor, but he can quite easily imagine a soulful and guilty smile, a determined look and an invigorating voice. It has always been inspiring.

Bakugou-kun had different opinion. A grimace of disgust and contempt mixed with deep resentment. Bared teeth and clenched fists. The blond turns around on his hills and quickly walks towards the exit.

Instincts ordered to catch up with him. AllMight jumps right through the window and covers the distance between them with few steps, grabbing furious boy by the shoulder. Bakugou doesn't even turn around.

"My boy! I'll tell you just once... Being confident in yourself is very important! And I will not be mistaken in saying that you have a worthy talent of a professional! Starting from here, you will rise higher and higher..."– AllMight stops his speech, meeting red eyes blurred by tears that asked for help.

"Let me go, All Might,”– Bakugou-kun hisses roughly, his voice hoarse and quite, and pushes hero’s hand off his shoulder.– "I will surpass you. I'll be number one. And you and this... Freak will swallow the dust."

AllMight halts.

"Do you think you know something? Anything at all?..."– Bakugou mumbles, tugs his sleeve and looks up with pure hate in scarlet eyes, that looks through AllMight.– "You know shit about it! Continue to pamper that freak as everyone does. He definitely deserves it..."

Bakugou's figure is soon lost among the crowd, houses and trees. AllMight turns back, directing his attention to Midoriya. Wide eyes and a nervous smile. He is rubbing remaining burn marks on his arm, cradling arm affectionately between fingers.

It must be hard for poor boy with such a terrible childhood friend. Good people always suffer the most. But Bakugou still has a chance. AllMight is sure that sooner or later, the explosive boy will listen to the new carrier One For All. Good always triumphs over evil in the end.

"Hey, this is the Support Course, isn't it?"

Pro-hero Loader looks through the doorway, distracted from checking the delivered equipment and materials. Blond boy in open white shirt, black tank top and U.A. jacket tied around hips. There was definitely no such student at his Course, but it’s too early for heroes and kids from general. Most likely from management. They occasionally drop in to take new inventors under their wing. Although, everyone with decent skills has long been "taken"... Almost everyone.

"Why yes, do you need something?"– pro-hero waves his hand, inviting inside.

A loud rumbling is heard in one of the adjoining workshop rooms. A winch drum rolls at the Loader's feet, hits the sole and twirls all the way to the middle of the main hall. Here goes that "almost"...

"I would like to discuss about ordering and hiring support students,"– boy raises winch drum and comes closer, trying to see at least something behind the veil of smoke in the workshop.– "Personal order kind of shit."

So blondie is really from the management. Power Loader thoughtfully taps the census tablet with his pen. He himself has no time to explain all the subtleties and try to look for someone suitable for request, but on the other hand, this is a great opportunity to push one crazy "almost" on another student.

Loader takes another look at the guy who has come in. There is a bit of dirt on his cheek and hands, although the shirt was perfectly ironed and he even wore a badge with the name. Katsumi Bakugou*. Bags under the eyes, but arrogance or fastidiousness is not visible, not counting obvious firmness of character.

Excellent. Minus two problems with one shot.

“I'm busy right now, but you can talk to that girl in the workshop,”– Power Loader immediately adds.– “Don't worry, she's a prodigy in tech, just a little... Hyperactive. Her name is Hatsume Mei."

"Gor it,”– Katsumi snorts softly, shrugging and heading towards the Sponsors' Horror.

As soon as blonde boy goes beyond the threshold of the workshop, Power Loader is gone without tracks. If Katsumi dies, it's all Principal Nezu's problem. He has a wife to live with.

What Pro Hero doesn't know is that Katsuki is willing to die if it means he will ensure his personal life's safety. There's not a lot to guard, indeed, but it's still something. Electronic fingerprint lock on the dorm door would be nice. It wouldn't look out of place like tazer or gun too.

Rumors that AllMight is teaching at U.A. spread like crazy. Bakugou lazily surveys the assembled crowd of onlookers, fans of the American hero and reporters greedy for any information. Fortunately, they are held back by the "great" defense, a tall wall made out of different layers with alarms, electrical voltage and many identification devices.

Bakugou snorts, ignoring the sharp, tenacious stares of the crowd that he pushes aside as he makes his way to the entrance. People are uncomfortably close to him, poking microphones and cameras right in his face. Bakugou is experienced with this because of the nature of his parents' work, which undoubtedly gave him the advantage of composure among other students.

Bakugou is one foot at U.A. territory when a question comes from behind him.

"...Wait! Aren't you the boy from the Mud villain Incident?!"

Teeth clench, nails dig painfully into the palms. Don't freak out on them, it won't end well. Bakugou tries hard to ignore bitterness of disappointment that fills his head. He worked so hard for so many years to become the perfect hero, and in the end he is remembered as a victim saved by mad school boy and Hero Number One. Yes, people recognized that he was capable, thanks to his quirk. But did the label "victim" disappear? Did it stop him from tasting dirt in his mouth every now and then? Did this make him trust professionals more?

No. Probably nothing will change it.

Aizawa-sensei intercepted reporters, leaving Bakugou behind the wall of U.A. gates. He will definitely be Number One. If not for his own dream then out of fucking spite, so every single idiot would know who the fuck Bakugou Katsuki is and what he is capable of.

No one will remember that disgusting day when he was weak. When he was scared. When he was saved by someone he despises. By Him.

Chapter Text

Trainings are extremely important. Always were, especially for aspiring hero. You wake up at early morning, do a warm up, go jogging, then start exercises for quirk or physical state, only after that goes shower, breakfast and everything else. Bakugou knows how that shit works, he follows made precisely for his constitution and age plan, which most of his classmates don't. They are sleepy, sometimes coming late, mumbling about upcoming Sports Festival. Katsuki frowns, observing tired faces and wondering if he should try and explain them, that overworking yourself hardly can help get stronger in short amount of time, it most likely will do the exact opposite.

"Yo, dude!"– Shitty Hair exclaims, he's with eye bags too but smiles brightly nevertheless and pushes Bakugou's shoulder.– "I've never seen you looking this bad! Have you been training all night? How manly!"

Katsuki holds back a grimace. Blazer is wrinkled, white shirt too, goddamn tie even got lost, and let's don't start about the nest he has instead of canonical spiky hair, that now look more sharp than usual.

"No. Just couldn't sleep well,"– Bakugou answers to excited classmate, but looks at curly hair of Deku.

Training all night? Ha! Yeah, training at taking fucking pills.

Katsuki moved into the dorms at the same day they were told about the Sports Festival. His parents helped him settle in and left, leaving him in ringing solitude. Loneliness hasn’t bothered Bakugo for a long time; for a while he was even happy, because now he will have neighbors who do not know him at all, which means this is a chance for a healthy relationship with at least someone. Yes, it's... Not what he was hoping for when he dreamed of U.A... But it's better than nothing.

And then he met with his neighbors. Apparently, the tenants decided to move students of the same age closer together, so on one side he had a neighbor from class B, whom he met on the bus to the entry exam, and on the other... On the other was his classmate Mina Ashido. Not that she was bad, don't get him wrong, she seemed like nice and cheerful person, but Katsuki felt, no, he knew what she was thinking about him - strong, interesting, but still mad, like a dog, that's what he was in her eyes.

Bakugou was glad even in such circumstances, because the first neighbor already knew that he was not some stooped mongrel with rabies. There were hopes. There were, but not for long. Kosei Tsuburaba, as he remembered his name, had a selective and short-term memory. Bakugou was absolutely sure that the guy didn’t even remember their meeting, what's the point in talking about his personality, because during the first collision in the corridors of the dorms, Tsuburaba widened his already bulging eyes in fear and awkwardly asked his name and about the USJ Incident.

Bakugou's breathing hitched. Hands trembled from stabbing pains. Under his sparkling palm is the shining metal plate of the villain. Ignoring surprised looks. Gritting his teeth. Grinding out of habit. The monster stood behind him: “Kacchan, let me break the plate.” Bakugou didn't want to kill. He didn't want to look behind either. Katsuki snapped, but He was already there. Breathed the same air as him. The misty villain seethed in agony, the metal slowly shrinking into a tube in the Monster's hand. “Stop it, idiot!” The monster obediently removed his hand, showing no side of disobedience. Poisonous eyes laughed at him.

Bakugou shook his head, telling Tsuburaba that the villains were pathetic worms who couldn't defeat a bunch of kids.

Is the reason for Bakugou's lack of sleep due to a repeat of the situation in middle school, when the freak assaulted every hour of existence? No, far from it. Deku's family couldn't afford to rent a dorm, so at first the blond slept peacefully. The communal shower is disgusting and he had to go to it every day due to his training schedule, but it's just another obstacle on his path to becoming the Number One Hero. But yesterday... Returning from the shower on Saturday evening, Bakugou froze in front of the door to the room. It was eleven o'clock. There was silence in the hallway. Something was wrong.

Katsuki stared at the modern doorknob and electronic lock underneath, that he personally requested from Support Course student. The only possible way to enter his room is to use a personal card. There were no traces or prints on the lock, but the goosebumps still tickled his spine. What's wrong? What the hell is wrong? Think, you stupid gray matter, think!

“Bakugou?”– a voice came from the right.

The blond snapped his head to the side staring sharply at his classmate. Mina coughed under the menacing glare, rubbing her eyes and waving her hand in a friendly manner.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!"

“You didn’t scare me, Raccoon Eyes,”– Bakugou growled quietly, returning his attention to his door.– “I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”– Mina walked up to him, pushing him aside to get a better view.– “Is there something wrong with your kingdom, huh?”

“No...”– blond held back a heavy sigh.– "Yes. Something is fucking wrong, but I don’t understand what.”

"Maybe there was some kind of glitch in that fancy lock of yours when Midoriya came in?"

The mind had been processing the girl’s words for several seconds. Bakugou exhaled shakily, clenching his fingers into fists.

“Midoriya?”– Bakugou asked quietly.

“Yes, he just came out”– Mina smiled, moving away from him. “He said that you took a cookbook from his mother and he needs to return it. I didn't know you could cook, Bakugou-kun!"

The positivity coming from his classmate almost confused him, but Bakugou managed to focus. Midoriya was in his room... No, Midoriya had been gone for a long time. There was Deku. A panicked glance at the frame opposite the door handle helped him realize what was wrong with this stupid door. Small scratches from hasty and rough movements. This creature entered his room using a magnet.

Katsuki forgot how to breath.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Bakugou?” Mina clicked in front of his nose. “Are you going to come in? If you're not feeling well, I can call for help..."

“Leave me alone, Raccoon Eyes, I’m not in the mood,”– the blond barked in a guttural hoarse, forcefully slapping his personal card on the lock and going inside as fast as lightning.

"Hey! At least you could've been more nice!”– the girl’s voice sounded dull through the pounding of Katsuki's heart.

No. No, he couldn't. Not now. Not now, when he hardly can stand. Katsuki exhaled until his chest hurts, squeezed his cold palms and shut them so har he saw lights dance before his eyes. They flashed like multi-colored sparks from an explosion. Katsuki bended over, rubbing his face and trembling slightly. The bastard was in his room.

Katsuki froze.

The bastard was in his room.

Body unconsciously jumped up with twitching movements and rushed around the room in a merciless hurricane, opening drawers and closets wide open, throwing everything off the bed, sorting through the table, looking under the carpet. But... Everything was in place. Nothing changed. This couldn't be true, freak couldn’t come and leave just like that. Katsuki doesn't know how much he spent staring at the floor, thinking.

There was a shadow on the floor from the light of the moon outside the window. The shadow trembled, imitating its owner, looking fragile. Bakugou, pushing his worries deep and far away, tidied up the room in silence.

Someone is listening to music loudly behind the next wall. Tree branches sway outside the window. Shadow on the floor that followed him loyally suddenly increased. Katsuki looked at it with empty eyes. The black mass was moving. Hallucinations?

Bakugou turned, about to close the blinds.

Right outside the window.

Casting a shadow over him.

Dark figure looked at him with a wry smile.

The monster disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Katsuki clutched the things he picked up from the floor to his chest.

The window frame is missing a lock handle.

Anyone from the opposite side can enter his room whenever they want. Anyone, but only if they know the right apartment, the right window and have the ability to climb the fifth floor fire escape.

Like Monster does.

Sweat from fear was being released more actively, nitroglycerin entered the active phase, lowering blood pressure. Katsuki was afraid, but his heart was beating steadily and slowly, echoing with beats in his temples. He was scared. He wanted to go home. He wanted someone to be close. He wanted someone to promise that everything will be alright. He wanted to call his mom for help. He wanted a normal life.

He wanted to die.

Five adrenaline pills were drunk in one gulp. The blond covered the window sill with pillows, a blanket and clothes, and lied down on the bare bed. The duvet cover was absorbing nitroglycerin along with sweat. He will have to throw it away.

Katsuki's heart couldn't decide if it should slow down or rush like crazy, filling chest with stinging pain. Sweet smell of burnt caramel filled his nose.

***

Shitty Hair, Raccoon Eyes and Pikachu are hovering around him, chattering about their two weeks of intense training. Strengthened only in words, without a teacher, these idiots did nothing but beat the air and lift weights. This is also not bad, but compared to the full schedule of development of various muscle groups and Bakugou's quirk, it looks pathetic and highly ineffective.

Green curls flicker at the edge of his vision. Deku is surrounded by a bunch of extras, including Round Cheeks and Four Eyes. After that single time the Monster did not come to his window. Perhaps this was due to the tons of pillows purchased with pocket money from his father, that he used to build a whole fucking barricade right by the window. Or maybe he was just biding his time, training to humiliate Bakugou at the Sports Festival.

“Can you stop talking crap near my desk?!”– Bakugou growls out of nerves at his innocent classmates.– “Why do you always gather around me, idiots?!”

“Because you’re our friend, dude!”– Kirishima ignores his angry outburst, patting his shoulder.

Bakugou forgets how to breath again, but somehow, this time it's from... Excitement?

“Yes, besides,”– Pikachu rests his hands on the desk.– “You’re like our Doberman or something like that! I feel invulnerable near you."

“I think Bakugo looks more like a Pomeranian Spitz,”– Mina adds, as if by chance.

“What the fuck?”– confused Katsuki barks with narrowed eyes.

"Spitz! It sounds so manly!”– exclaims Shitty Hair.

Deku turns his head. No, no, please, everything but this. Feeling panic, Bakugou is going to once again yell at his classmates, so that they get the hell away and don’t stand in the nerd’s way. Yes, he’s scared, yes, it’s his first time in someone’s friend group, but Katsuki is a hero, no matter how bad he looks. He can't let Him get to his classmates.

The poison consumes him again with his large pupils.

“...Am I right, Bakugou?”

Someone stands like a broad-shouldered wall between the blond and the curly-haired one. Bakugou looks up at Kirishima’s toothy smile in confusion once again.

“What?”– he asks, gone off topic.

“Even though you are clearly rude sometimes, you are a manly hero!”– Kirishima put his fists on his sides.– “Manly heroes like us must stick together!”

“He doesn’t even consider us friends,”– Pikachu rolled his eyes.– “If we come to his apartment like we do to you, we’ll be killed on the spot. Isn't it right, Bakugou?"

Katsuki feels his heart beating faster. To his apartment? Friends? Manly hero? He? Katsuki? Katsuki's brain has difficulty processing unfamiliar words, which is expressed by a complex facial expression, at which his classmates begin to laugh. The blond immediately snaps back to reality, scowling and barking.

“Shut your mouths!...”– blond boy awaits them calming down with hidden anticipation.– "If you come to my apartment, I’ll kick you out...”

“I told you so,”– Kaminari grins cheekily.

“I don’t want corpses on the floor,”– Katsuki clicks tongue at the puzzled faces. “I excrete nitroglycerin in sweat, idiots. In such concentration, which is on my bed, table and other stuff your hearts will just fucking stop. Even at home with our parents, we had to clean every day so that dad wouldn’t fall on the spot."

"Oh..."

"... how manly!"– Kirishima rushes into a hug with tears, which Bakugo categorically rejects with a growl and curses.– "You don’t want us to get hurt, although you would like to invite us to visit!"

“Hey!”– Ashido also launches a hug attack, helping Kirishima.

“I didn’t say that I wanted to invite you to visit!”– Bakugou resists, moving away on the edge of his chair, even though he honestly does.

"It's decided! When you’ve done the spring cleaning, we’ll come to visit you,”– Kaminari sounds from behind, pushing him right into the arms of two hugging idiots.

Katsuki feels slightly happy. Only slightly. Because on the other side of the classroom is Deku. His hands hang like rags, there is no crooked smile on his lips. There are dark bags under his eyes.

And the pupils of the poisonous lakes almost turned into sharp points.

Katsuki leans forward protectively as a reflex, deepening hug to his "friends" surprise, causing Deku to sigh madly and quietly. The beast in his body demands to run, while at the same time wants to protect. A drop of sweat runs down his temple, the blond growls and pushes his classmates away from him.

“I just told you that nitroglycerin is poisonous!”– blond boy hisses.

Stupid extras smile and cheer. But Deku doesn't. Narrow black dots drill a twisted hole in the chest, straight towards the slower and slower beating heart. Bakugou belatedly checks to see if he's leaking blood. The hand does not feel anything.

"Jerk..."– Katsuki mumbles under his breath, unnoticed by anyone.

Chapter Text

Bakugou can't see enemies in other students even if he wants to. Most of them are just fucking kids, who sooner or later, without realising it, will fall for Deku's lies. All this crying messy looking stuff always works. Okay, maybe this cheap purple ass Aizawa clone annoys him, but not enough to hate him. Of all people in U.A. only Four-Eyed, who's friends with freak, was close to make Katsuki feel actual anger.

In this exact situation he's more annoyed of the fact, that there's a whole mob preventing him from exiting the classroom – students stand pressed tightly to each other, like canned sardines, and all of them look at him, as if he's some kind of exotic monkey.

To be fair, he probably does look like an exotic monkey in their eyes after surviving villain attack on the fourth day of school.

His body looked like a ragdoll. Nomu threw it away. Wet sound of something heavy falling. Bakugou hated Him. But he is a hero. Meters away from the body, Katsuki glares at wide open acid eyes. And he gives Monster a command. "You're cheating!" Villain screamed. Broken doll raises up. Katsuki agreed. Monster was cheating.

"Consider this a declaration of war,"– Purple Ass states, lazily turning around and merging with crowd.

Bakugou doesn't want to participate in any war. But if extras wants to challenge him, he'll be the best amongst the best. Better than fucking Deku, better than all this bullshit about late developed quirk, better than anyone and anything. Extras will regret the day they thought he's all bark and no bite. O-o-oh, he does indeed bark loud, but his bites are even worse.

"Hey! I'm from class 1-B, next door!"– some extra with sharp features yells, getting attention.– "Heard you guys fought some villains! Wanted to find out more but!... All I'm seeing is this arrogant bastard! You better not make fools of the hero course on festival!"

Bakugou spaces out for a few seconds. Memories crawl out of the closed room, flash him with pictures – narrow ink black pupils, bloody meat dangling, swollen and coloured with all tones of red and purple, muffled sounds of bones and cartilage crunching, quite and worshipping whisper: "I'm just like you, Kacchah." Memories go back to the forbidden corner of his mind, leaving Katsuki in thoughts, almost making him tremble as if it's cold in the classroom.

Bakugou stumbles forward – reflex tells him to push, to fight, to bark and bite – dives at the crowd and shoves aside extras on the way.

He needs to get some rest before Festival starts. Desperately. Maybe he can sleep at med bay. Recovery Girl supposed to be at stadium right now, so there will be no one to question him, right?

"Hey, dude, what are you doing?!"– blond can hear Shitty Hair cry in panic.– "Thanks to you we've got a whole mob of haters now!"

Bakugou gives classmates quick glance:
"I don't give a crap..."– he's not fast enough to filter his reflex's doings.

His classmates burst into confused and shocked rumble. Bakugou rolls eyes, not bothered to turn back, and speaks again already facing the crowd:
"It doesn't matter. We are still the best here."

People in crowd suddenly become faceless, almost blurry. Oh, they are angry, but at this point he can't be bothered. He got lock on the window fixed and finally managed to catch some sleep.

Only to wake up from nightmare with almost deadly slow heartbeat.

He doesn't lie though, when he says that they're the best. They should know how distribution system works – most promising individuals go to A class, clever students go to B, and those who are good, but not enough to General Studies. Deku is weak and pathetic stalker, but Katsuki's classmates are different. They are the strongest amongst the first years. And Katsuki is the strongest amongst his classmates. It doesn't matter if cannon fodder hate them or not, facts are still facts.

Bakugou stumbles his way to med bay. It has that typical overly clean smell, like if every nook and cranny was disinfected with spray by hand and then polished with a napkin. Bed sheets smell overly clean too, which makes him frown. Nitroglycerin be damned, but he would need to take care of sheets if he decides to sleep here.

Katsuki stands still, unsure of what to do. On one side, it will be problematic to explain why he slept at med bay instead of resting at home beforehand. Teachers might even send him to brain-pecker like they did with half of his classmates after USJ –

Memory blurs. He knows it wasn't like this. But bloody hand prints are on his window. He can't see anything. Only His smile. It moves. Blood drips from cracks on the lips. "Perfect."

– on the other side, fuck, he is going nuts.

Katsuki squats, hiding his face in palms, his mind numb and empty.

Then he gets an idea. It's bloody U.A. He is in the best, most prestigious school in Japan. Probably the most sponsored school too. Those fuckers even have fake towns just for trainings.

So they should have something special to calm down people with quirk's side effects like his. Right?

***

Recovery Girl will get confused weeks after when she finds out missing pill at seemingly new pack.

***

Around the U.A. stadium there's yet another crowd, but Bakugou feels comfortable at this one. People came to watch aspiring heroes fight for the first place and appreciation of the public, some were selling street food, some loudly conversed about what upcoming events, there was pro-heroes too, probably hoping to find potential additions to their agencies. He can't help but feel... Excited for what is going to happen. Bakugou could even beat freak's ass without looking bad if lucky.

Remembering that his "friends" are planning to visit him after Festival makes Katsuki actually happy. "We'll celebrate our glorious triumph together!" – that's what Pikachu said, while Raccoon Eyes and Shitty Hair were assaulting his personal space. Katsuki couldn't help but wonder. Last time he had someone over was That Day with fucking Deku. What's more there will be four of them! And they are normal. Dumb in some way, for sure, but normal.

He wanders from place to place, sometimes looking over food at stalls. He wouldn't buy any, obviously – who the fuck you think he is, to eat right before the fight – but for some reason it makes him feel peaceful. Those happy faces, cheerful talk, and, most importantly, complete lack of attention to his persona. No one is scared of him, no one tries to lick his ass.

At some point Bakugou stops in his tracks, dumbfounded by his own absolutely unexplainable happines. He blinks, reaches with a hand to his face and feels himself smiling. For a second he even considers that he is just... Happy.

Perhaps, after all he shouldn't have...

Some old man bumps at him. Boxes, that was the reason he didn't notice Katsuki, start to dangerously tilt. World slows down. Hear aids do false start and noises fade away for one sickening moment. Blond boy immediately catches all of the boxes with unusual worry. He places them back at place so tenderly, so softly, it makes him go back to utter confusion about his new and unfamiliar state. Hearing comes back twice as sensitive.

Old man turns in a way he can see Katsuki, wrinkled forehead eases up. He spares boy few seconds worth glance than grumbles with warmth:
"Eh, young hero, I see. Thanks' lot, lad."

Katsuki stares at man for what feels like hours, even though it's probably hardly longer than few seconds.

Thoughts ran through his mind, wild, unkept, all of them loud and shameless.

But that one consistent though– his reflex – is quiet.

That's why Katsuki takes deep breath.

And smiles so brightly that old man smiles at him back.

"You're welcome. Heroes are supposed to help old men like you, aren't we?"

"Bah! Yeah, tis' true. Thanks 'gain, lad. I'll cheer for ya on Festival."

Watching that stranger going his own way Katsuki understands that now he doesn't need to bark and bite at all. There's a slight pain in the chest, but it's almost pleasant, as if someone put his heart in cellophane bag. Katsuki doesn't mind. Sounds around him turns into loud incoherent melody. He smiles – genuinely and affectionately – and slowly takes phone out to check time.

He stood at one place for almost ten minutes. Time to get to the stadium.

The closer blond is to the destination the more colourful world around becomes. With each second passing by Katsuki feels like all of his years worth pent up stress and fear vanish. Like if something terrible suddenly disappeared from his mind. He can't remember what exactly though.

Katsuki catches him standing at one place again, let's out a soft sigh and shakes his head. Tsk, tsk, Bakugou, how unprofessional of you, don't you think so? His hand reaches to the chest. Heart beats, enveloped in cellophane.

Blond boy hums, trying to remember something important.

Failing at doing so, he proceeds on his way. It seems like he's going a bit late, but considering how big of an event Sports Festival is, they probably will start late anyway.

Sweet odour reaches him. Katsuki wonders if they sell caramel near by.

Katsuki enters stadium from stuff entrance, politely smiling to stranger in police uniform. Stranger can't help but smile back. On the inside Katsuki shines with happiness.

"Goddamn'it!"– Katsuki hears someone curse under their breath at one of the stuff rooms.

Usually his reflex would keep him out from helping people. But it's gone. Katsuki without a single care knocks on the door to the room where the voice came from. Person behind it got quiet. Katsuki snorts, hiding his smile in hand.

"Ah, excuse me, I just wanted to make sure you don't need help,"– Katsuki's voice sounds a little bit hoarse and higher than normal.– "Are you alright?"

Door opens and reveals a woman. She's as tall as he is, with wild black hair and blue eyes. Katsuki hums again. She looks familiar. Is she? Reflex is gone, paranoia and irritation that usually helps him out are gone too. No, he doesn't know her. Everything is so clear, that he can feel how sweat drop slides from his jaw onto the neck.

"Oh, uhm. I'm... Fine, thank you,"– woman says, inspecting him.

Katsuki hums and nods in satisfaction, turning on heels to continue on his way. Woman calls out to him:
"Actually, wait. Are you Katsuki Bakugou?"

Katsuki faces her once more. Does he know her? Thoughts are too wild to comprehend what they say. No, he doesn't. Katsuki nods in agreement and politely smiles. Woman looks lost and amused at the same time.

"Oh, good! Just so you know, you'd need to give an opening speech at Festival. Prepare something quick, okay?"– her voice is a little bit shaken, but it's clear she tries to sound sultry.

Blond boy scratches his chin and blurts out:
"I am a minor, miss. And you are thirty. Don't be so desperate, find someone older. But thank you. I'll try to come up with something."

Seeing no more point in staying here, Katsuki walks away, humming to himself. Something is missing, but he can't understand what. Heart beats in cellophane. Painfully. Pleasantly. It doesn't matter then.

What his speech should be about? Something with Plus Ultra message maybe? Or good old cheer up for students? What he forgot though? Oh, maybe he can go with a role of a welcoming showman...

Katsuki enters waiting room like if it's his own room.

Green head snaps his head to look at him. Katsuki makes deep shaky breath. He... Forgot something?

Black pupils widened, looking straight him in the eyes. Katsuki feels his heart going on a rampage. He couldn't forget it.

Boy wryly smiles at him, fidgeting fingers. Cellophane that kept his heart safe is ripped in pieces. He remembers.

Reflex is quite. Katsuki has no idea what to do.

Sero practically drags frozen Katsuki to the table where Kirishimia, Kaminari and Ashido sit. Wait, who? Katsuki can feel his vein popping on a temple. Who are they? Temperature of the air gets hotter than seconds before.

Katsuki feels like he's going to throw up. His hearts suddenly goes from fast pacing to hardly one beat at two second. Bright surroundings blur in one colourful mess.

"Ay, Bakugou, are you alright?"– Sero Flat Face taps his shoulder.

Katsuki breathes in, ready to scowl but suddenly realises – he can't. Face stays in a mixed grimace of anger, pain and plain primordial fear.

He can't see Flat Face, who sits by his side, but Katsuki is happy that no one else notices his mistake. Or maybe they did. Thank God, Izuku Deku can see only his back.

After few seconds Katsuki hears Flat Face again, someone confidently shoves bottle with cold water in his hands:
"Here. Cool off a little bit. Your face is as red as a tomato. What have you been doing, that you got yourself so tired? Do you know that we still have Festival, hm?"

Katsuki numbly looks at Flat Face. Boy is trying to sound playful, but there's – to blond's utmost suprise – genuine worry about him. Since when people notice that he needs help?

Apparently from now on.

Katsuki makes deep breath. Get your shit together, you fucking doormat. Are you pathetic worm or an aspiring hero?

Bakugou breaths out. Familiar voice of the reflex weakly guiding him through his own mind. It sounds scared.

Energy comes back. Blond boy manages to take control of his hands and opens the bottle. Half of the water is gone in a matter of seconds. Heart beat is steady and slow. Flat Face waits with patience of a monk. No one besides him pays Bakugou any attention.

Bakugou hums. Feeling of cellophane enveloping his heart comes back, but this time his reflex stays. He can't decide between telling the truth and sending Flat Face to fuck himself. So instead, after little consideration, he leans slightly closer to his classmate and replies with dry voice, loud enough only for Flat Face to hear:
"Some lady tried to invite me to the stuff room."

Face of the boy with tape elbows goes through various stages of shock, in the end settling with pure bewilderment. Bakugou clicks his tongue, leaning back and adds:
"No one will believe you."

Bakugou drinks the rest of water in peaceful satisfaction. Flat Face starts to giggle seconds later. Giggles turn into wholehearted laughter, laughter into insane guffaw. Others at the table finally notice them and what they see is Bakugou's expression of a confident royal and Sero almost falling under the table, laughing his lungs out.

"Oi, oi! What happened?"– Shitty Hair has no idea what's going on, but he smiles nevertheless.

"He-! He said-! Bakugou-!"– Flat Face points at blond boy who starts to drink second bottle, only to fail miserably and continue laughing.

"Bakugou! Dude! What did you said?!"

"Spill the beans, Spitz boy!"– Raccoon Eyes demands with a slam of hand on table.

Bakugou rolls eyes. He feels like he forgot something. But this time he knows that it's better not to remember.

"Fuck off,"– he mumbles, taking his phone out.

"Dude!"

"I am definitely going to find out what you said when we come to your place,"– Raccon Eyes pouts.– "I will, like, threaten you with listening My Little Pony songs at three a.m. or something."

Bakugou shrugs, his smile hidden behind the bottle.

Chapter Text

"Damn, U.A. is the best! Midnight as chief referee!"

Pikachu has been practically hanging on Bakugou for last few minutes, screaming in excitement. For some reason, blond didn't even try to shrug loud classmate off. It was not exactly a nice interaction, but not an unacceptable one either. Besides, it is interesting to listen to other opinions. Even if Pikachu's opinions are a fucking mess of horny thoughts and philosophy.

"True, true,"– Flat Face agrees, nodding approvingly.– "I bet even our playboy Bakugou-kun finds Midnight hot."

Katsuki blinked, looking at Sero with wide eyes, unable to hold in emotions. Both boys burst in chuckles, Raccoon Eyes gives them sceptical look. She looped Bakugou from the other side and patted his shoulder with clear provocation.

"This fella right here is not a perverted pig like you two, boys,"– Raccoon Eyes states with a victorious smirk.– "He's a gentleman. Do you know what that word means, hm?"

Bakugou stays silent, but with all his body he tries to show that he is indeed a fucking gentleman. His mom may be a Witch, but his dad is the epitome of word "gentle", it's only natural if he would follow. But if Pikachu has enough dignity to stop chuckling, Flat Face simply collapses. Boy with tape elbows barely holds himself standing, desperately trying to cover his mouth to keep guffaw in. It works only partially, since tears from eyes and his whole body shaking gives away what he truly feels.

"Huh?"– Raccoon Eyes releases Bakugou's shoulder, pouting.– "Oi! What's funny?!"

Blond has nothing to add when Flat Face fails to stand and falls on the ground. Other classmates look at them with confusion and second-hand embarrassment. He has nothing to add neither when Raccoon Eyes tries to drill a hole in his forehead. Luckily, Shitty Hair exclaims averting everyone's attention:
"Oh, I think they're starting!"

"Now, now!"– female voice resounds with power.– "Fair play!"

Bakugou can't help but get deja vu. It wasn't much long ago from the last lesson with Midnight, was it? Why does he has that annoying thought blubbering something about her being suspicious? All of his gray matter try to figure out the problem for only a few moments, but gives up immediately after feeling heat coming up... Bakugou hums. Whatever. Not like it's important, is it?

"Bakugou Katsuki of one-A!"

Explosive boy snapped out of trance with a help of Pikachu pushing him forward. For a second it seemed that world exploded, crowd roared and students started clapping. Internally shaking Bakugou shuffled his way to the top of the scene. Ah, right. The speech. He didn't decide what to say. Well, shit. Warm wind brushes spiky hair. Hundreds of people look at him now, but for the first time in forever Katsuki doesn't feel pressured. It's almost like he simply can't care enough about anything. If he tries to, then heat hits his head and it's not exactly a pleasant feeling. "Tell them what you think,"– reflex whispers. Katsuki breaths in, his iconic sharp scowl gone, replaced by serene peace:
"I remodeled my whole life just to stand there. This – is my purpose. One that was firstly pushed on me and the one that later I chose myself. Either I die as a civilian or I live as a hero. No third option."

Katsuki enjoys sudden silence that settled in the stadium, only occasional mumbles are heard. He looks through the faces of students below. For some reason his heart starts pounding faster when he quickly observes 1-A class, so instead he settles on looking at General Courses. Purple Ass stands there, with a face of a bitch who ate lemon. "Tell him,"– reflex whispers. Katsuki continues:
"And what had you done to stand on the top? Nothing. Or did you think that dreaming about bright future is all you need?"– Katsuki almost laughs at scrunched faces of students.– "All you had done is pathetically whined and cried about how unfortunate you are. You probably don't even use your full potential. You are a bunch of cowards, who can't use their own quirks properly."

Even though his words are directed at General Course students, Katsuki can't help being annoyed of someone else, that he can't quite put his finger on. "Fight! Fight them!"– reflex demands. Katsuki obeys:
"I'll stand on the top either way, but I'm interested to see how you'll suffer trying to reach me. So fight me, losers. Show me that Plus Ultra you all dream about. Show me that you are something more than damn pebbles on my way."

Without further explanation Katsuki turns back from the crowd, passes by amused Midnight and shuffles down from the stage. When he places his foot on the ground, everything shakes. Strange sound echoes in his ears like if thousands of voices screamed at the same time. Headache comes back. Katsuki frowns, but proceeds to go back to his place.

Only when he looks at Shitty Hair he realises that screaming voices are not hallucinations. Boy with hardening quirk almost on the verge of crying, with pure admiration plastered on his face. View slightly above red haired head consists of the crowd whistling, cheering, moving like one big entity. Katsuki manages to figure out what they chant:
"Plus!... Ultra!..."

"Dude! I promise to do my best and be as manly as you are!"– Shitty Hair exclaims raising clenched fist to the sky.

"See? Told ya,"– Raccoon Eyes is back at looping his shoulder, smug smile on her face.– "Gentleman."

"He called us pebbles,"– Pikachu hangs on Katsuki's other shoulder.–"How is that gentlemanly?"

"Yes! Very manly!"– Katsuki automatically compares Shitty Hair to an excited dog.

"To be fair,"– Flat Face appears with the same smug smile as Raccoon Eyes'.– "He called pebbles those who don't do their best. Does it mean, that you are going to slack off, Kaminari-kun?"

"This!-..."– Pikachu instantly closes distance between him and Flat Face, tripping over his own feet, and indignantly points his finger at the chest of the boy opposite to him.– "This is not what I implied! You see, I connoted-!..."

Katsuki feels his face turning slightly pale from all the noise around. It's... Probably bad sign, but he's like... Over the moon and on the cloud nine or something! He was being so cool up there, wasn't he? There's so much sweat that his body emits, which is dangerous as fuck, he would slap himself for not going to Recovery Girl with those symptoms if not for the absolute mess his thoughts are in right now.

"Oi, Bakugou,"– someone's cheerful voice calls out.– "Do you use candy shampoo? It's so sweet! Care to share?"

Katsuki stays silent, choosing instead to pay attention to Midnight explaining the gist of the first round. Obstacle race, huh? Mind goes haywire, when people start to push him forward. Resembling a coming wave students move to the tall gates leading to the start. Basically, no rules, except for staying at course and to not hurt anyone, obviously. Katsuki wipes his palms on pants so not to produce too big explosions.

Time slows down. Maybe he could fly through? Nah, the course is too long. His palms wouldn't make it and there's still more rounds to deal with after. Let's take savings energy plan, then. But this narrow passage could be a problem. He's not at the front row too, so when race will start he would get stuck behind. Think, Katsuki, think. You can't use explosions without hurting people around. You can't just rampage through, there's students with quirks that makes them akin to a fucking brick wall. What should he do?...

Katsuki feels unexpected weight on his shoulder. Be damned that Pikachu, he has no time for that. But uncharacteristically to Pikachu person behind leans in, shaky breath touches blond's ear.

Katsuki goes still. Frozen. Silent as a corpse. Turns into damn stone statue, scared to move even on inch. Why is it happening? What's wrong? Reflex screams to run, but blond boy just doesn't understand from what. He is already opening his mouth to ask the person behind who they are, when dry whisper sneaks into his brain:
"Do you want me to get rid of those pebbles, Kacchan?"

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Midnight yells:
"Sta-a-a-a-art!"

Bakugou without a single doubt grabs shoulders of the students ahead and they yelp, confused. Push them down, raise your body above their's, jump on backs and climb on shoulders of next students. From shoulders Bakugou jumps as high as possible, sparks ignite on his palms. Force of explosions catapults Bakugou forward. Why did he do that? Was that necessary?

He remembers quite whisper.

Yes, it was.

Bakugou flies above the formed in narrow gate mob, landing slightly behind Two Faced, who looks troubled by blond's appearance.

"I'll win,"– boy infront of Bakugou states.

"Why should I give a fuck?"– Bakugou slides with help of small exploisons on the same ice path his classmate uses.

He needs to run. Run away from the person behind. Who is it? Bakugou shakes his head. It doesn't matter. Veins are popping on temples, hands are ice cold, even though the amount of sweat his body produces says otherwise.

Large shadow casts itself upon them. Katsuki bothers to look up only for a second – robots from entrance exam, before proceeding to run forward past slowed down Two Faced. Someone's loud voice excitedly yells when Bakugou sky rockets himself, lands on the robot's head and jumps off, continuing his way on course. Sounds are gone. There's a strange mud taste on his tongue. It's suffocating. He needs to get farther away, he needs to, needs to...

Powerful wave of cold air pushes him from behind, almost making Bakugou fall. Hearing is back, loud crack echoes and earth slightly shakes from impact of heavy robots falling. Two Face's voice reaches him with the second air wave:
"I don't need my father's quirk for this!"

Small ice crystals hit blond head. Bakugou feels a temptation to turn his face back just to give Two Faced sceptical and despising glare. What the fuck is wrong with this one? He tries to survive right there and this idiot talks about some daddy issues bullshit.

Next obstacle shows itself. Pillars of stone disappear into the black darkness below. Work of Cementos, again. How much does he gets paid? Tightropes are hanging between the pillars. Save energy for future and go without quirk? Hairs on the back of Bakugou's neck stands up. Familiar decisive yell sounded somewhere in the distance. No, move forward, body, no time for rest.

Bakugou once again flies into the air as Two Faced climbs onto the rope with skillful movements. Blond can't help but smirk. Piece of cake!

"The mine field right out of Rambo 3!"– so it was Present Mic who cheerily yelled al the way through.– "It's set up so that if you're carefull, you can see where landmines are placed! Strain your eyes and feet!"

Bakugou trips. In front of him, at first glance, is an empty road, but just a squint and you can see small lumps sticking out of the ground. Fuck, fuck. It'll take too long. Fly again? This is too much, a waste of energy. He already used more than supposed to. All that remains is to carefully avoid the mines and move forward... Fucking hell! Bakugou makes step forward, few seconds later he activates first mine. Bright and loud, his hear aids turns off on a second, mistaking the sound for his own explosion. Hearing comes back:
"...-too reckless! What's the big plan, Bakugou-kun?! Tell us!"

Blond almost snaps. There's no fucking plan! Ground under his feet is moving, like if he was on board of a ship in the middle of hurricane. Bakugou breaths in, face red but hands are cold. His whole body shivers. Reflex reminds him of a whisper, but this time Katsuki wonders what's so scary in that whisper? Why does he worry so much? Someone just called him out. There was nothing to worry.

I'm just like you, Kacchan.

Bakugou roars, forcing his body to move forward. Memories that he doesn't want to experience again fade back to where they came from. Fucking got it, you stupid brain. No questions, just run for your life. He's half way through when he hears someone's unsteady breathing behind.

It's Two Faced. Thank God, it's just him. Bakugou proceeds, trying not to fall from dizziness, world spins around. More and more exploisons resound behind, others students catching up. He's too slow. It's not enough. This fucker definitely will do something at the last obstacle, he will, he always does... Katsuki groans. Who is he talking about?

Panic takes over. Every passing second there's more chance of something happening – even though he doesn't know what exactly will happen – and finishing gates seem miles away. Bakugou barely notices when Two Faced gets with him side by side. Frankly speaking, the only reason he did was because the boy spoke out:
"I'll score first."

Bakugou looks at his classmate. The boy doesn't look at him, slightly behind and completely engrossed in avoiding landmines. Blond blinks, trying to focus on Two Face. Terrible idea appears in his mind. Terrible, but the only one he can come up with. Be damned his creative but overconfident mind.Bakugou shoves his pride six foot under.

"Oi, Two Faced. You know what, I'll help you score first,"– Bakugou's classmate, usually stoic and cold, looks at him with confusion.– "I want to be second. There's... No damn secret plan or other shit. I know that... Someone is planning to fool everyone. We need to win, so he will not."

Two Faced stumbles, too distracted by Bakugou's out of place friendliness. For a second his face hovered above landmine, another – he's back to standing straight. Present Mic goes crazy:
"Bakugou saved Todoroki from falling! He saved him! That's what we call true spirit of heroism! Good job, Bakugou!"

"Shut the fuck up!"– Bakugou snaps and immediately turns his face back to Two Faced.– "I'll make explosion wave forward, so all the mines will blow up. You need to cover them with ice the same moment they activate, so about second and half after I ignite sparks. Got it?"

Bakugou doesn't wait for answer. It's all or nothing. When he caught Two Faced he spared few seconds to look back. Green fuzzy figure stood at the start of the minefield.

Sparks ignite. Bakugou adjusts his fingers in such way that impact of explosion will go farther but would be weaker. Hear aids turn off, leaving him with only bright sight of his quirk working. Such a familiar sight.

But then ice appears from the ground, covering everything left behind the explosion as if absorbing it. Dust and icy cloud engulfs them, but both Bakugou and Two Faced understand – they succeeded.

Bakugou rushes behind Two Faced a little bit slower than his classmate, giving him advantage. He's not a fucking liar, if he said that he'll help he will fucking help. In complete silence Bakugou emerges from the dust cloud. Sun shines bright, skies are beautifully blue. Blond stops running only after he's considerably away from the gates. That's when hearing comes back.

With it comes loud exploison. Seconds after, from already settling dust cloud unidentified projectile shots out. It lands harshly, making a roll on the ground. Red eyes meet green. Bakugou turns away, going back to the stage.

"Right after unbelievable show of camaraderie between students of class one-A, Midoriya comes third using landmines as a boost! It's like if Bakugou and Todoroki knew that their classmate has been planning something! Crazy kids! What are you feeding them, Aizawa?!"

"I'm not their mother, they feed themselves."

Standing at the place where 1-A was at the start, Bakugou determinedly ignores glares Two Faces gives. Second place, hm? Not too bad, he guesses. He should've taken this race easier, really. Why did he worry so much, again?

Chapter Text

Apparently, all four of those idiots started to believe they belong on his shoulders.

"I didn't know you had it in you, dude! It was so manly!"

Bakugou with suprise finds out that he enjoys the way Kirishimia hangs on his shoulder. The boy is close, but Shitty Hair's hand doesn't touch any open areas of his skin, his head is considerably far away facing to the side so Bakugou doesn't feel or hear his breathing, no heavy weight applied on him either. Even the manner of speech Shitty Hair uses when addressing to him is playful, but attentive and respectful. The same goes for Pikachu, Raccoon Eyes and Flat Face.

They're dumb, incredibly so, but Bakugou realises that those who seem careless usually don't get on his bad side. Just like few of his former classmates they are easygoing, honest and straightforward in their thoughts, eyes bright and shimmering. Bakugou doesn't feel like they are hiding something, like they're pretending or lying. Almost as if they are incapable of doing so.

"Didn't expect it from Bakugou-kun either,"– Flat Face adds, nodding.–"Did you know that first place was damned, hm?"

First place turned out to be some sort of trap. Everyone else got appropriate amounts of starting points for second round, except for Todoroki who got absurd ten millions, becoming a prey at the cavalry battle. Bakugou, being a fucking man of his word, immediately went to the boy and told him he didn't know about this. Gladly, Half-Faced was not a weakling so he didn't mind the news about his team turning into a walking target.

Bakugou frowns, looking hurt, which confuses his classmates:
"I didn't. I promised to help him score first and I did. I already cleared it up to Half-Faced if you are blind and hadn't noticed it."

Flat Face raises his hands with an apologetic expression.

"Sorry, Bakugou-kun. I meant, that you don't strike me as a teaming person."

"Yeah, more like a lonely wolf who can overcome anything!"– Shitty Hair smiles brightly.

"Whatever,"– Bakugou mumbles and takes a sip from a bottle of water that every student was given during the break.

Cavalry battle is basically a team battle with few unique rules, the most important one of them is that the leader of a group is forbidden from touching the ground. Formation can be broken, points can be lost and then immediately returned, the limit of individuals in one team is four. With that in mind Bakugou picked those of his idiots that got to him first. Pikachu who made it last ended up left out, but others cheered him up enough to start seeking for someone else.

"Now! What's the plan, big boss?"– Raccoon Eyes tilted her head, balancing on her tiptoes from back to forth.– "We expect no less than a master mind level of game!"

His three teammates wear smiles but behind them there's a determination, an anticipation of something grandiose and mind-blowing. Cavalry battle promises to be tense, something they can get through only by sticking to a specific kind of plan.

Bakugou shifts in his posture, bored expression plastered on his face supported with a not intentional yawn. Argh, nitroglycerin would be the death of his. Not joking.

"Nah,"– Bakugou pushes Shitty Hair from his shoulder so he can stretch out.– "We just stand somewhere far away from the mess and defend our points."

The look that all of his teammates give is precious, but absolutely expected.

After an intense race Bakugou's energy unexplainably droped to the bottom. He doesn't feel like trying, honestly. Weirdly enough, even his reflex is quiet. The thing is, there's no need for them to rush for more points. It doesn't matter who scores first and who scores last, what's important is to get enough for passing the round and Bakugou's team has quite stunning number of 670 points from the very start. If in the end it wouldn't be enough, they can always snitch away a little from weak teams.

Half-Faced has a mess of a team. If we exclude Rich Ponytail chick, there are rando from B-class, cannon fodder with a tail and Hatsume-san from Support Course. All three ultimately useless in such combination, especially since apparently they aren't fond of using any support equipment other than some small ass shock gun in Monkey Tail's hands. Waste of a perfectly fine supporter, if you ask Katsuki. Bakugou didn't consider them a threat at all.

Then there were class-B, quite irritating bunch, but nothing extraordinary as first round showed. Avoid them and beat those who try to attack, simple and secure.

Purple Ass was doing something shady, glaring as if he was a puppy hitten by the blond boy. Which was bullshit, since Katsuki would never hit a puppy – he hits only weirdos and villains. Even so, Bakugou didn't consider him a threat too. This one had a character of a bitch, that stabs from behind and Bakugou is smart enough not to show him his back. Thus, no problem.

It seems there was something he forgot, though. Bakugou lookes around while his teammates are trying to come up with a plan of their own. His ruby eyes get glued to one team. Round Cheeks, Pikachu and Grape Pervert. Nothing impressive. Hm.

Shitty Hair runs up to the blond boy, waving the headband with "670" written on it with red. Bakugou carefully examines it. Soft, doesn't stretch, has some kind of magnets on the ends. Few seconds later headband was settled on the neck. It wouldn't be heroic of him to let the sweat from his forehead poisoning property of UA, would it?

For some reason his gaze returnes to the team of Round Cheeks. She doesn't wear leader headband. Bakugou's eye unconsciously twitches. He observes the whole team, finding the headband on Grape Pervert.

"Bakugou-kun, I get your plan, but what about our formation?"– Flat Face inquired.–"I mean, it's obvious that you're the leader, but what about us?"

"Shitty Hair is at front. He has perfect quirk to be a tank,"– Bakugou calmly starts explaining not averting his gaze from weird team.–"Flat Face is at my right. In case of emergency I'll fly on my exploisons, then he would drag me back on place with his tape elbows. Raccon Eyes at my left. I'm right-handed, so she'll guard that side with acid-..."

Acid.

Pikachu proudly stands at the front of his team's formation. Grape comfortably sits at the top. From the right there's poking Round Cheeks' brown bob hair. From the left...

Acid green eyes.

Inspecting. Observing. Surveying. Endlessly following.

Do you want to get rid of those pebbles, Kacchan?

Black thin dots. Like if someone pierced green eyes with a needle, but instead of bleeding formed punctures swallowed colours from around.

Bakugou rememberes something – "His weak spot is a metal plate!" Katsuki screamed to Kirishima. Kirishima was not able to move. Green lightning appeared before he could even make a step. It smashed into the villain, sending both to the side. – Katsuki forgets.

His heart beats so painfully slow. But he can't-... He can't bring himself to care about it. Can't make himself worry, even though his consciousness says he should. Katsuki looks up, his expression calm, peaceful, soft. Not a single cloud above. Skies are brightly blue. Maybe it's a good time to take adrenaline pills, Katsuki wonders.

. . .

"Woaaah. Never thought Bakugou can have his face-..." – Kirishima stumbles in his words.– "You know, like... So not-angry."

"Eh? So I was not imagining it?!"– Ashido exclaims, but hardly louder than a whisper.

"Do you think something is wrong?"– boy with hardening quirk frowns in curiosity holding his chin in hand and stares intently at Katsuki.

"Hm-m-m, I don't know,"– pink coloured girl mimics her friend's posture, glaring Katsuki down.

Katsuki looks back at them. His gaze is not as intense and scrutinising as theirs, but where it lacks it compensates with how rare this kind of situation is – to have Bakugou glaring at you but without threats to your life? Without curses? Without flashy exploisons and blond's face distorted in fury? Blasphemy! Doesn't sound like Bakugou at all!

"Kirishima-kun, I think he's sick!"– Ashido's half-whisper is seriously worried and utterly confused.

"E-e-e-eh?!"– Kirishima's muttering is not much different.– "And what are we supposed to do now?! Do you have any cold medicine?!"

They freeze like deer caught in the headlights when Katsuki comes a little bit closer. Sero hugs two other idiots from behind with a knowing smile:
"Excuse them, Bakugou-kun. You know... They are too young to understand."

Silence fell over their group. Ashido narrowes her eyes, shaking off boy's hand.

"Wait a darn minute!..."– girl points her finger at Sero's chest.– "Is that somehow related to that joke you didn't tell us about?! Traitor! Tell us!"

"You know, some things are just bro-classified," – Sero smiles smugly.– "Can't tell, sorry."

"Hu-u-uh?!"

Kirishima humbly points at himself with a sad and troubled expression:
"Am I not a bro, then?"

"Oh, of course you are. You're right,"– boy with tape elbows nods to himself.– "I'll tell you later, when this non-bro-person is out of range."

Kirishima immediately turns into beaming with a smile ball of proudness. Which doesn't solve the problem at all.

"What?! You both traitors! Why can't I be a bro? I'm very bro-ish! Is that because I'm a girl?"

"I'm sure it's not the reason, Ashido-san!"– Kirishima tries to comfort his friend.– "You're very manly too, so maybe it's-!..."

"Yeah, you're a girl."

Sero doesn't care in a slightest:
"Now, shoo, shoo. Can't you see, we are doing boy sleepover right here?"

Who would've thought that person with pink skin can become even more pink? Oh, she is fuming.

"It's midday, you fucker!"

Kirishima and Sero both hid their faces behind their palms, as if they heard something scandalous and are judging it with every fibre. Ashido, unbelievably, somehow becomes even more pink. What should she do?! She's not that good in word battles! But if she doesn't do something those two will have a whole inside joke going on without her! Unacceptable! With that in mind, Ashido turns to last resort measures.

"Bakugou-kun!"– pink girl passively aggressively pulls blond's hand. Aggressively – because she's pissed; passively – because it's Bakugou, and she doesn't want to die.– "You are not going to actually leave me behind like that! I know you have an attitude of an angry dog, but I believe that your mother raised you a gentleman deep inside!"

Sero chokes on the amount of impudence girl demonstrates. Kirishima gawks at the astounding show of manliness.

But Katsuki, surprisingly for everyone, even for Ashido herself, does not explode with curses. He thoughtfully examines Ashido with gentle expression. She shifts in place, glancing at her comrades in dumbassery and asking for help, but only meets denial. There's nothing they can't do with wild Bakugou, beside visiting her grave afterwards.

"Ah- Uhm... Bakugou-kun, I'm very-"

"What do you want for dinner?"– Katsuki interrupts her in a soothing and almost parental manner, his voice slightly husky.

"Huh?"

Now the situation turned from war to collective confusion. Bakugou acting calm – is one weird thing. Bakugou acting kind and asking them about dinner – concerning signs of them being intoxicated. All three of them wonder if they hallucinated Katsuki's mouth moving at all.

Then he continues:
"I can cook pretty much anything, except for bakery. I baked few times too, but if you want a fancy pie, better forget about it. I'll fuck it up,"– the same parental manner, same husky voice.– "I personally like spicy food, so I have a lot of spicy ingredients at my home, but I doubt any of you actually like spices, so I need either to buy stuff myself, or you should buy everything you want beforehand,"– the fact he doesn't stop makes everyone realise he's serious.– "So, what do you want?"

No one answers. No one has a single idea what to answer. So they stay in complete silence for decent twenty second. Twenty goddamn seconds. That's how much time they need to remember that they are going to Bakugou's place after the Festival ends.

Kirishima recovers first:
"Why can't we just order something?..."

And gets a smack on the head. Surprisingly, Katsuki doesn't look pissed, but rather disappointed.

"You're not eating takeouts in my apartment at Friday. If I can cook I will fucking cook."

"So manly. Makes sense,"– Kirishima hastily nods in agreement.– "Oh. Uh. Maybe curry? Level three spice, please."

"Hm, I have ingredients for this at home. Next,"– Katsuki turns to Ashido.

"Eh? Eh?!"– Ashido in panic tries to remember any food name.– "O-oh, eto... Erm... Daifuku! Yes, daifuku! Uh, with strawberries!"

Shit, – she thinks,– did I just asked him to make daifuku?! She asked Bakugou of all people make rice buns for her! With strawberries! But then she wonders, if Bakugou wears a cute apron at home when he cooks. Hm. Be damned, short span attention!

But Katsuki is unfazed:
"You can't eat just daifuku, you dumb bitch. I'll make them, but you'll eat curry with Shitty Hair as first dish."

"Yes! I mean, okay! Thank you!"

"Flat Face, what about you?"

Sero doesn't know what about him. If Kirishima had adapted and Ashido at least managed to talk, Sero is still unsure if all of this is real. Every comprehensible word flew out of his mind and now it's completely empty. Suddenly, it feels like he's on exam. Behind Katsuki's back Ashido is trying to sign him dish name. Kirishima whispers with only his lips. And then there's Bakugou glaring at him, composed and calm but threatening nevertheless.

Gladly, Sero manages to decipher Kirishima's whisper and blurts out in awkward tone:
"Takoyaki?... Sir?"

Ashido does a face slap. Kirishima supportively shows him thumbs up.

Katsuki raises a brow at that, but ignores:
"Takoyaki are not healthy. You'll eat curry beforehand too. We need to-"

Alarm goes off. Teams aneed to take their place. Katsuki snorts, cracks his neck and looks at them.

"What are you standing for? I need to climb on you, bitches, hurry up."

And they do hurry up, meanwhile silently deciding as a group to not speak about whatever the heck just happened.

Katsuki didn't plan on doing this either. But now he needs to buy some stuff for dinner...

There's sweat on his forehead. He gently places a hand on his chest. Beneath, his heart is slowly beating. He feels... Calm. Not in "happy" way calm, like before, and not in a "sad" way calm, like he does when tired. He's just... Strangely empty. Hazy. Drowsy. Dull. Serene.

"Let's get a battle cry! Here comes the starting signal! Blood begets blood in the U.A. grand match!"

Katsuki decides it's not a bad feeling.

Chapter Text

It is breathtaking to watch over the field from the top.

It is overwhelming to see everyone like if they were figures on a chessboard.

It is exciting to stand at command of your own team.

It is... Disheartening would be the right word – it is disheartening when all of those emotions are numbed. When all of his body seems to be drawn to earth, down, when he wants to be high in the sky. When his vision gets blurry and he can't recognise faces around him. When his mind is foggy and he is unable to utter a single word.

Of course he does say something eventually. Probably. Katsuki's not sure. It's like if his mind operates on it's own. One second he has good thought and shouts it, next second – boom, he forgot all of this happening.

Katsuki blinks. When he opens his red eyes, they look confused, lost. Glance down – someone's carrying him. Why are they doing this? Katsuki frowns, examining his hands: wide palms, sturdy long fingers, they glisten on light from all the sweat, veins and capillaries seen through the skin, slight shaking is visible. Oh, right. Festival. Second round. Cavalry battle. He can feel sweat covering his face with a thin layer like a mask. He tries to wipe his face. It doesn't help.

Someone yells. Somewhere from below. Probably one of Katsuki's teammates, then. He looks around, trying to find a reason for that yell. Something moves towards them. Another team? Who? Why? Doesn't matter, he decides. Katsuki hums, enjoying the feeling of vibration of his lower jaw and throat. He helds his hand up, ready to blow up whoever was trying to take them on.

That's when he realises he can't remember how to use his quirk. The thought baffles him, like if he suddenly forgot how to move his fingers. He might as well forgot this too, actually. Memories of setting sparks that will eventually evolve into an explosion are still here, but he... Can't figure out what exactly he was supposed to be doing for this to happen. Spiderman style struggles right there, he thinks and feels his ears go red, embarrassed for being nerdy in the middle of the battle.

It's a good thing enemy is slow. At some point everything became so agonizingly slow. Thus Katsuki wastes some time on fiddling with his fingers. He forms shapes with his hands, bends his fingers, twists wrists, trying to come up with something that feels right. He ends up with some sort of a hand cup, wrists aligned and connected with each other in specific away. It reminded him of a flower.

Another yell. He can now see face of the opposing team's leader. Twisted in a prideful grin, blond hair, more than one headband on his neck. For a second Katsuki thinks of himself.

For some reason his palms feels heavy. There's this unusual tug when he lights up sparks. Everything went quiet. Katsuki breaths in. Shiver goes up from his spine to hands. Something escapes his mouth. Something about eyes? He can't remember.

Bright light. Katsuki himself can't close his eyes, because that would be irresponsible. It blinds him. It paints world around in white and, after some time, in orange tones. Hot air blows them away a bit. For a second there's nothing to breath. Katsuki notices with rising interest that this explosion went further than his normal ones. It traveled far in a fascinating chaotic manner, colours moving and shifting and then... And then it bloomed. Deadly flower. The other team engulfed by the bright wall of raging colour and dust.

They are moving away. His team moves – Katsuki blinks, finally coming to his senses. Shitty Hair, who's holding his legs, is partly the reason, because he squeezes blond's ankles. But hearing isn't back yet. So Katsuki, for the lack of a better choice, glares at the back of red haired boy's head, ankles still squeezed. Is he mad? Is he scared? It was not his usual type of exploison. It would be normal if they got concerned. Did he get hurt by it? Did Katsuki went too far?

Shitty Hair turns his head to the side. Big toothy grin is plastered on his face, eyes narrowed in joy, stain of dirt on forehead.

That's when Katsuki feels someone pat him on the lower back.

That's when sounds come back. Mina was screaming this whole time, apparently.

"-Y GOD, BAKUGOU, THIS WAS AMAZING! A-A-A-AH-HA-HA! THOSE SUCKERS GOT LITERALLY BLOWN AWAY!"

His face and ears burn. Not because he embarrassed, but because he never ever felt so flattered and happy and excited and proud-

He can feel his lips twisting into big sincere smile. Katsuki desperately tries to hide it behind the palm of his hand.

There are colours flashing by, people running around, but Katsuki can't bring himself to focus. Slow heartbeat is so loud it's almost like if heart moved to his head. Body slightly trembles, limbs ice cold, but his insides are burning with fire from Hell. Breathing is heavy, deep, spasmodic, his chest flattering.

Katsuki tries to weep his face. His lips are trembling, unsure of what form they should take. He decides on pursed lips.

Someone passes by, nearly snatching away something from blond's neck. It's literally seconds before the hand grabs the thing when Katsuki snaps back and moves, automatically slapping the hand away. Who was that? Who thinks they can take his stuff? Why did he slap it?

And what is this thing? Katsuki finds the object on his neck with his fingers. It's completely wet headband. Oh, right. Cavalry battle. That's why they fight. Headband with points. Why is it wet though?

Katsuki frowns, sending an exploison to help his teammates but eyes locked on red numbers written on white. This is weird. Piece of cloth is soaked and it smells. Smells strongly.

"Bakugou-kun! Up!"

Katsuki clicks his tongue, ignoring the command. He notices someone moving closer. Annoying. Blond adjusts himself, avoids the person's hand before they could touch him and throws them away with a precise elbow strike, after that accelerating the impact with weak exploisons. Well, they were supposed to be weak. Instead, the person is catapulted to the ground, dust flies up in a small neat cloud. Enemy team left behind in despair.

Wrong, this is all wrong. But what is exactly wrong? Why can't he understand?!

Katsuki frowns deeper, trying to weep his face. It feels so heavy. His clothes are heavy. But it's just light shirt and sport suit. U.A. sport suit, which is the best out of the best kind of stuff.

He fidgets the headband again. Wet. Think, Katsuki, think. What is wrong? Vein pops on his temple, thoughts in his mind are slow and incomprehensible.

Why can't he just get it?! Katsuki holds in the cry of frustration, instead letting the steam out through sending few exploisons to his back, where some losers tried to sneak up.

Think, you dumb bitch! What do you have brain for?! What are you, an extra?!

Katsuki digs with nails into his his forehead, trying to clear the path to his own brain. There's so much sweat on his face. Trying to remove it doesn't work. Why? Headband is soaked. Explosions are unusually strong. Uncontrollable. He feels so heavy. So cold. So hot.

What is wrong?!

World around fades into darkness.

His heart beats in his ears. Once.

One second. Two seconds. Three-

Heart beats second time.

Light is back. Colours exploding into his mind. Sounds deafening. Head pounding in pain. He just wants to sleep.

Oh.

Oh.

Katsuki breaths in. In the air there's a strong smell. It's so strong and full it's hard to discern, but blond knows it very well. Sweet, syrupy even, burnt and caramelised.

He touches his headband. Soaked wet. He touches his neck. Collar is as wet as headband.

The realisation struck him like a truck.

Katsuki swallows and it feels painful. Panic is rising in him. At first it's just warm spot under his rib cage. But it grows. It infects lungs, his breathing ragged, leaving his throat dry as a dessert. It recounts every vertebra, stuffing space between them with needles. It reaches his heart. His heart doesn't object.

That's when it burns.

Flame spreads in a matter of seconds from his chest to his throat, to his face, to his head.

Katsuki snaps back, someone's figure suddenly appears from the side. He growls, feeling painful spams in palms and blasts away the person, who might as well had disappeared, because Katsuki can't see further than the length of his arms. Damned sweaty headband on his jeck. Now it's not about cavalry battle. Now it's about not fucking killing anyone.

Tine goes slow. Agonisingly slow.

The ring sounds, crushing blond's mind, reverberating through the skull. Katsuki not so very gracefully fall to the ground running to the closest wall, grabbing random water battle and pouring it over himself.

It burns, it eats away his insides, it frizzles his skin, it turn his ribs to charcoal.

Katsuki breaths in.

He can't close his mouth, saliva falls down on his shaking hands. World goes black. Everything is black. He can't feel his body. He is nothing. He doesn't exist. He is not real.

Katsuki breaths out.

Panic moves from his chest to his head. He lifts up his gaze, staring at the wall.

Not only his headband was dangerous to touch.

His hands were deadly too.

Katsuki turns back, world is spinning, colours painfully bright, flashing, blinding.

They are here, right infront of him. Standing. Smiling. Happy. Alive.

But for how long they will be?

"Bakugou, dude, you were the manliest man I've ever seen! We didn't even need to use that strategy with flying-!"

Katsuki growls and they stop in their tracks. He doesn't understand what their expressions mean. Or, to be more fair, he can't discern their face features at all. He breaths in. His insides pierced with thousands needles. He breathes out.

He might as well killed them.

"Did anyone of you touched my hands?"– Katsuki can't recognise his own voice, it sounds so far away, crispy, roaring, furious.

"What? Bakugou, relax. I don't know what happened, but-"

"Shut the fuck up!"– His throat hurts. He breaths in. World goes dark. He breaths out. He barely hold back tears.– "Shut the fuck up! Did you touch my hands?!"

"No! Bakugou, you need to calm down! What's wrong?"

Someone moves closer to him. Katsuki wants to wail. He growls instead.

"Hands! My fucking hands! Did you touch my goddamn hands?!"

"Bakugou,"– second person joins, moving closer as well.– "We don't understand, man. You need to tell us, so we can-"

Katsuki breaths in.

Walls of his throat spasm. For a second he can't breath. Cartilage pierces flesh. Air in his lungs is ready to explode.

Katsuki breaths out.

It sounds like roar. He clutches hands in fist, hits his head, but there's no comprehensible thoughts, no sane ideas, just pure fear.

"Hands! My stupid goddamn hands!"– he shakes with his palms in the air, desperate, furious, unable to form new words.– "My fucking- frigged damn hands!"

"What's up with your hands!"– first person exclaims.

Annoyance in this voice hits Katsuki harder than any punch. He is ready to cry and beg, just for them to tell him they are fine, they will be alright, he didn't hurt them, they are not going to die, they will live, please, god, let them live-

"You fucking die! You will fucking die!"– he manages to yell, but in a pathetic volume, barely above loud whisper.– "My dumb ass stupid hands! You will die! Did you touch them?! Hands! My hands!"

"What the fuck you're talking about-?!"

First person is interrupted.

"You will die! Oh my god, please! My hands! Did you touch-!"

"Yes, I did."

Katsuki feels his heart squeezing. He breaths in. He can't breath in. So he keeps to breath out.

He hurt someone. They will die. They will get hurt. They will hate him. They will be hurt. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. It's again like this. Like with dad. But they're not his dad. They will leave. No. Oh no.

Katsuki can't bring himself to say anything. He stares forward. But at this point he hardly understands what's infront of him. Colours mixed. Messy. No shapes. Moving fog.

He breaths in. He barely manages to do that. He still breaths out. His lungs get turned inside out.

"It's okay."

Katsuki can't answer. Physically can't. There's not enough air in his body for such task. He purses his lips. His Adam apple chokes him.

"Bakugou."

Katsuki tries to breath in. This time it's too big, too fast. Throat is burning. Katsuki breath out.

"Bakugou, listen to me."

Something reaches for his elbows. Katsuki jerks back, almost falling. Colours spin. He breaths in, ready for impact.

Someone drags him forward, their grip on blond's arms firm. Katsuki breaths out.

"Bakugou."

Katsuki freezes when someone grabs his hands. He wants to scream. He can't.

"Bakugou. I'll be fine."

This is the first time for the last twenty minutes he sees a face. It has soft features. Big black scleras. Warm yellow eyes.

"Bakugou, why do you think I will get hurt by touching your hands?"

Katsuki breaths in. He fails. He breaths out.

Voice gets silent. The person drags him closer. Katsuki feels warmth around his hunched body. He breaths in. It is small, but at least something. He breaths out.

Weird sensation. Something soft pressed against his back. It moves in circles. It helps to relax his tensed muscles. Takes out needles stuck in his spine. Katsuki breaths in. Too big, but slow. Good enough. He breaths out.

He can hear soft murmur near his ear. Somewhere a bit lower. A hum to his shoulder. He likes the feeling of vibration spreading through his collarbone. He breaths in. Small, but plenty at the same time. He breaths out.

Katsuki can't help but think of his dad. Years ago they used to hug just like this, but he was so much smaller, barely able to reach dad's shoulder even when dad would kneel. Blond timidly reaches for the person's shirt with his hands. He digs into this shirt, afraid to let go. If he does, they disappear. Just like dad. They will get stuck in hospital for months. Sick. Weak. Crippled. Nearly dead. Because of his stupid goddamn hands-

New voice appears.

"Bakugou-kun. Can you understand what I say?"

Katsuki can't bring himself to speak. He's too scared to let the person in his arms go. So he nods. Slowly. Lazily.

"Good. Listen to my voice. It's alright. You don't need to talk, if you don't feel like you can."

Blond nods.

"Are you alright?"

Katsuki nods. It's a lie, but he can't allow himself to say otherwise.

"I see. Am I right, if I say that you got mad at something?"

Nod.

"Was it Sero?"

Shake.

"Kirishima?"

Shake.

"Ashido?"

Shake.

"... You?"

Nod.

"It's okay. I can understand. I sometimes get mad at myself too. But you probably got ver much more angry at yourself than I ever was with myself. It means... Something important might have happened."

Nod.

"Can you tell me what it was?"

Katsuki shifts. He looks up. It's Pikachu. Kaminari. The boy stand in a few steps Infront of him. His face is not a grimace of fear, pain or disgust.

"My hands..."

Kaminari doesn't interrupt, patiently waiting.

"They produce nitroglycerin... Something like nitroglycerin..."

"Is it dangerous?"

Katsuki ponders for a second. He fidgets with a clothes between his fingers. It's Raccoon Eyes' shirt. He is hugging Ashido. It was ages since someone hugged him.

"... My dad almost died once. He got... Got poisoned. I was... Tired. Sweaty. He lifted me up. I... We hugged. Then few minutes later he fell... Looked dead."

"But he's alive."

"Lucky... He was lucky."

Katsuki suddenly feels much better. He's still sweaty. He still a walking mess. But his heartbeat is normal. And he can see the world around. And he can breath.

"Hm-m-m... Well. Do you know, Ashido-san has acid quirk..."

Kirishima appears from the side, holding at least ten water bottles. Sero comes shortly after with a pile of towels.

"That's why her skin is pink. Her body can resist acid."

Katsuki leans into the hug. He forgot how soft other people are.

"So I'm pretty sure she will be fine even if she gets a lot of nitroglycerin on her skin."

"Yeah!"– Katsuki feels lost and cold when Ashido pulls away. But she doesn't let go, she just gives herself some space to show her radiant smile,– "Don't worry about this! I guess, luck is on your side! Your dad managed to do it and I am immune!"

"Ashido-san!"– Kaminari angrily whispers, but girl ingnores it.

"Besides, I was the one who grabbed your hand without permission that one time,"– Katsuki looks down, Ashido is slowly drawing circles into his palms.– "I'll make sure to ask next time. I'm very sorry."

This one is unusual too. Katsuki had been getting only playful or pissed slaps on hands from his mom. And the apologies. Not fake ones. Real ones. With eye contact and promise to never repeat the mistake.

"I'm sorry too... Bakugou,"– Katsuki looks to the side, meeting eyes to eyes with Sero.– "I... I didn't think your quirk is... That you have... That it's... Hard to control... That there is a lot of responsibility on you just because of your quirk. You had all rights to get mad. You always told us how dangerous it is, but we... I never listened. I apologise for yelling at you when you were just making sure we are alright."

It doesn't seem real. But it is. Katsuki breaths in and he can feel cold air feel his lungs. It's the freshest air he breathed in years. He blinks and he can feel Ashido's touch on his palms. He straightens his back and it produces satisfying crack.

The silence is comfortable. But it was a matter of time before Kirishima spoke up. The whole conversation he was looking as if on the verge of tears.

He was. He can't hold back anymore. Kirishima carefully puts all bottles on the ground and violently waves his head from side to side:
"Man! Bakugou! I promise to be your best friend forever! You're like! The most brave and amazing dude I've ever known!"

"Hey! Who gave you the title of the best friend?"– Kaminari inquires, snorting.

"Ah!"– Kirishima perks up, weeps tears away, hits his fist on palm and exclaims with steel resolve.– "That's right! We both can be Bakugou's best friends forever!"

"W-what?!"– electric quirk user goes red.– "That's not what I meant!"

"Oh! Oh! Oh!"– Ashido hangs herself on Katsuki's neck.– "I want to be one too-! Oh, sorry for hanging. Didn't mean to-"

"It's fine. You are all monkeys anyway. Already got used to it."

Katsuki realises he blurted out something stupid. But does it really matter?

Ashido laughs cheerfully and practically trips both of them over in attempt to climb him like a mountain.

"Oi! Sign me in the Bakusquad too,"– Sero grins smugly grabbing into the hug Kaminari and Kirishima.

"We are not calling it Bakusquad."

Kaminari uses Common Sense on Sero.

"Yes. We are."

It's not very effective.

"Yea-a-a-a-ah!"– Kirishima helds off the ground two others boys with a flamboyant smile.– "Bakusquad, let's go-o-o-o!"

Katsuki feels like the happiest human on earth.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure you will be alright, man?"– Kirishima looks at him fondly.– "Being manly and being reckless are different things."

Katsuki is grateful that his face is already red from all the crying otherwise he would've been spotted blushing immediately. How could he be so goddamn stupid? Taking random ass medication before a serious stressful event with high physical activity! Oh, he's so incredibly dumb. He would never ever call his friends dumbasses again... Okay, no, he will.

"Yeah, all good now,"– his hands are still shaking a little bit, but Katsuki feels better than ever.– "I take medication from time to time. For my quirk side effects. I got new ones before the Festival, seems like they are not for me."

"You should've told us then!"– Kirishima exclaims with worry.

"Telling you that my sweat is deadly didn't help last time, so I figured it wouldn't be different this time around,"– blond shrugs, pulling a fast one.

All of his friends try to hide guilt, each in their own way. Kirishima makes a giant breath in and purses his lips, nostrils flared. Kaminari adverts eyes, nails digging into the fabric of his sleeves. Sero's lips tremble, failing to hide crumpled expression. Ashido manages to hide her awkwardness behind wide smile and pounces on blond's hand.

"From now on, Bakugou-kun, we'll make sure to listen to everything you say,"– she says gently and extends her finger to him.– "Pinky promise!"

Katsuki can't help but blink in confusion. They're so... Weirdly nice with him. Is that normal? Or are they feeling pity for him after his pathetic public collapse? What's even more weird, even if they do, he doesn't mind. Maybe he is still affected by pill, but God knows he can't imagine his future without those idiots now.

He ponders – is this bad? To want to be around someone so badly it hurts to think of being not around? Boy uncertainly reaches for Ashido's finger with his own pinky.

"«Pinky promise» as in made with your and mine pinkies..."– Katsuki mindlessly mumbles, honestly curious.– "Or because you are pink as fuck?"

Ashido looks up at him with ridiculous smile. He blinks. Did he say something wrong?

"What?"– Katsuki frowns in defence, scrunching up his nose.

Ashido rolls her eyes, snorting.

"Are you hundred percent sure you will be fine, dude?"– Kaminari inquired with a small smile.– "You are already damn strong for doing this epic performance at cavalry battle while feeling crappy. You even managed to take my team out!"

"I did?"– Katsuki frowms further, trying to remember.

"The fact you don't even remember how you demolished them, Bakugou..."– Sero shakes his head, lips tugged in a smirk.– "Remind me to never piss you off."

"You should've known to not piss me off even before it, you fucking dumbass,"– Katsuki squints.

"Oi, oi,"– boy with tape elbows chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender.– "Sorry, Boss. Would not repeat this mistake again."

"You were super manly though, man!"– Kirishima almost hugs him, but stops himself before Katsuki is able to tense up.– "You were all like- BOOM, BAM, UPPERCUT!"

"I like how you almost gently slapped away Yaomomo's hand,"– Sero chuckles, shaking his head and raising hands.– "I swear, sometimes you feel like a disappointed parent with nagging and all those gestures. We were laughing our asses off when her face turned into imitation of suprised kitten meme. Shame you don't remember."

"Bakumom of the Bakusquad, bwah!"– Ashido guffaws in blond's ear, giving freedom to his arm.

"We already silently gave up pursuing you when you smashed the heck out of Midoriya-kun with just your elbow, but after you sent him to the ground with his pants burning? Didn't even try to catch him,"– Kaminari joined girl's laughing.– "But to be honest, I personally gave up when I saw you sending this guy from B-class to the skies with this giant exploison of yours!"

Katsuki's ears slightly redden from the praise. He didn't plan to make such dangerous explosion. His palms was covered with excessive sweat and it led to strengthening of the flames. It's a miracle he didn't hurt anyone. Luckily, nitroglycerin from his ankles and thighs, with which he was touching his friends, is not as concentrated as on palms, face, feet and... Few other places. Headband, on the other hand, was soaked wet and dangerous. If someone snatched it away they would be lying on the ground by the time cavalry battle ends. Still, the praise for his skills made him happy.

Usually he wouldn't show it, but, perhaps, those pills were still affecting him. Or maybe it was because he finally felt safe. Doesn't matter.

What does matter is that he smiles. He had been smiling and laughing on his way to the stadium, but smiling in perfectly conscious state is weird. Chest feels light, ticklish. When he breaths in lungs are filled with pleasant coolness, his mind fooled into thinking he floats. Wind caresses his hot ears, ruffles his hair with fondness. His cheeks are tingling and his ruby eyes are narrowed, sparkling in sunlight. It's hard to ignore the look Kirishima acquires, redhead boy's eyes practically popping.

Katsuki desperately tries to stop lips from forming this goddamn stupid smile. Instead they tremble, widening even more. Realising he can't make himself frown, he raises a hand in panic, hides his face behind it and leans back away only to notice that Kaminari, Sero and Ashido are looking weirdly at him as well. Blond boy freezes like a deer in the headlines, unsure and scared for no apparent reason.

"Hello-o-o-o, dear students!"– Present Mic's loud voice is akin to a blessing for Katsuki.– "Right now you can head in for the special and energy restoring lunch, made by our irreplaceable chef Lunch Rush a-a-and Recovery Girl! Make sure to get some rest before it gets crazy in the finals! Woah!"

Katsuki can't remember last time when he felt safe. Maybe, when he didn't have his quirk. Since then there always was something to worry about.

Firstly, Izuku started acting creepy. With each passing day stalking became worse and worse, until it didn't reach the point where Katsuki made sure to close window and door to his room on locks.

Then it was his quirk, occasionally activating when he was overwhelmed with emotions: happines, anger, sadness, fear. He broke so many of his toys, clothes and notebooks, but exploisons weren't strong enough at that time, so his mom and dad was cheering him up that it's only the matter of time when he gets full control over his quirk. Then, when skin on his palm developed protective layers, nitroglycerin... Turned into something truly dangerous. Katsuki can remember that day, first year of junior school, he felt dizzy, but refused to admit feeling weak. After this memories are a painful blur of gasps, spasmodic quivering and heart beating slowly, reverberating in temples.

It got worse after incident with dad... Not only he needs to watch out to not hurt himself, but now he can't touch anyone without making sure he doesn't fucking murder them.

How old was Katsuki when life changed it's difficulty? When it became a game of pretending and hiding? Four?

The truth is... Katsuki doesn't know how to feel not scared for his or someone's else lifes. Living in constant stress, fulfilling others' expectations, never having a trusted soul to tell about his struggles. As such it feels... Unnatural to feel peaceful. To be gently touched and hugged. To be comforted. To smile sincerely at all.

He is not supposed to do this. Right? But it's exactly what he wanted, isn't it? Is this okay for him to be soft with someone? No... He should be more aware of how he acts around others. What if they think he's weak and an easy target? What if they like him acting like a jerk, because it means he's strong? What if Deku sees him-...

Katsuki feels his smile disappearing and confusion settling on his face instead, hand down. His friends still look at him, schoked and puzzled. Eye twitches. Explosion quirk wielder stumbles back. He hesitantly scowls, grumbling:
"I'm going on lunch."

With those words Katsuki puts his hands in pockets and hurriedly walks away.

He fucked it up big time, didn't he?

***

"Guys..."– Kaminari uncertainly questions.– "Am I tripping or?..."

"Damn, I didn't even think he can smile like this..."– Kirishima mutters, grabbing his whole lower face with palm.– "He smiled few times before, but it always was-..."

"Shit eating?"– Sero chides in.

"Frightening?"– Ashido adds.

"Bloodthirsty,"– Kaminari seriously nods.

"I wanted to say overly confident,"– redhead boy disapprovingly pouts.– "What's wrong with being proud of being masterful with your quirk? Bakugou is not a bad person!"

"How were we supposed to know this?"– Sero grumbles, scratching neck.– "It's not like he often offers a home cooked dinner or experiences breakdown."

This time everyone look at the boy with judge. Sero raises his hands, shakes them and hisses.

"Sorry, sorry. Still trying to comprehend what happened."

"Can't blame you on this one,"– the only girl in group sighs, groaning in frustration shortly after and exclaiming.– "And I thought that mine quirk is problematic and scary! I thought people cry like this only in movies! I felt like-!... Like if I let him go he would crumble into a pile of explosive powder! Have you seen how scared he got when I pulled away? For a second I thought his fingers became claws!"

"What about his «dad looking dead» part?"– Kirishima frowns.

"Yeah, I'm concerned about this one too,"– Sero folds arms over his chest, looking at Kaminari.– "We couldn't properly hear what he said – or understand, to be honest. Poor guy was choking on air."

"From what I understood,"– bright blond thoughtfully raises his hand to lips, his fingers unconsciously making fingergun.– "His sweat is akin to real nitroglycerin. I don't know much about it, besides that it's highly explosive in pure form and used as a main ingredient for heart treatment medicine. Apparently, it's poisonous and as a kid Bakugou-kun accidentally hurt his dad-..."

"Wait, no-o-o!"– Ashido grabs her head and whines, tears in the corners of her eyes.– "He said he hugged his dad! He thought he killed his dad with hugs! With hu-u-ugs-z-z! No-o-o!"

"Is that why he didn't like it when we tried to hug him?"– Kirishima joins girl's sobbing.– "This dude is so manly! I would just cry my whole life if I wasn't able to hug people I love!"

"Wait, wait, I don't want to seem insensitive,"– clapping, Sero gets attention to himself.– "But I saw many extra suits in Bakugou's locket. I thought he's just that perfect, hating the feeling of being sweaty, but it's probably because his clothes can kill people after training,"– seeing that no one gets where he is going Sero sighs.– "Ashido, you should change clothes. You've been hugging sweaty as hell Bakugou and it would break him if we poisoned someone on his behalf."

"Eh? Shit, you're right,"– Ashido scrunches her nose.– "I don't have any spares though..."

"I can give you mine for today,"– Kaminari hums.– "I'm the most close in terms of height to you."

All four of them decide to go to the lockers together and only then go for lunch. Maybe they wouldn't be able to eat at all but it's not the most important thing at the moment. Their friend – who they thought to be an unstoppable force of raw power and rage – had a panic attack. And they had not a single idea what to do.

Of course, Ashido helped few of her friends when they had it hard, but she hardly knew anything on how to deal with something this serious. If not for Kaminari, having done readings for his heroic training on how to help a person in panic, they doubt they could've helped him without involvement of teachers or Recovery Girl.

"We can't tell sensei about it!"– Kaminari argues.

"Why not? Neither of us has psychology degree, if you haven't noticed,"– Sero huffs, hands hugging elbows with vulnerability.

"Because if he was planning to tell anyone about this, he would've already done it,"– bright blond frowns.– "Bakugou-kun opened up to us and we should be respectful about it. It's common for... People feeling anxious to feel betrayed, when they're exposed by those who they trust. Imagine you tell your friend a secret, only for them to spill the beans hour after! Knowing Bakugou-kun, it would be even worse with him. What do you think sensei will do, if we tell him about all this mess?"

"Send him to an actual therapist?"– tallest boy raises an eyebrow, unsure.

"They will remove him from the Festival..."– Kirishima sadly echoes, understanding plastered on his face.

"Oh,"– Sero winces.

"Oh,"– Kaminari mimickes and sighs.– "So we are not telling anyone. At least for now."

"But we are going to do something, right?"– Ashido emerges from the dressing cubicle of the waiting room, Kaminari's uniform a little bit too big for her, sleeves rolled up to her shoulders and pants high over belly.– "We can't just... Pretend nothing happened! I'm not going to."

"Yeah! We need to-!..."– Kirishima uncertainly frowns.– "Ehm. Hug him more?"

"If you want to make him even more anxious – sure, go on,"– Sero's words drown in sarcasm.– "Might as well die in the process."

"For now, being with him should be enough,"– thoughtfully humming Kaminari scratches his chin.– "We need to show him it's okay to share his problems with us, that we don't think of him less if he needs help. Just... Hang out with him , try to get closer with him, make sure he is comfortable with what we're doing. Don't know about you, but I often speak without thinking. Can bet my console that at some point I said something incredibly stupid and rude. So watch out for yourself. And for each other."

"Smart,"– tape elbowed boy nodded.

"Do you think we can at least ask him..."– Kirishima moves his jaw, trying to find right words.– "Like, ask him about what is okay to do and what's not? Oh, and!... Uhm, how we can help in case of... You know-... if he feels sick."

"It..."– Kaminari answers with hesitation.– "It wouldn't hurt I suppose. But we are not asking him about it until Festival is over! And no pressure if he doesn't want to talk about it!"

Kirishima nods with a mix of determination and happiness, while Ashido smiles, relief apparent in her posture.

"Obviously,"– Sero hastily agrees and turns to exit the room.– "Now let's hurry up."

Others follow him, slightly annoyed. Ashido speeds up, facing tall boy with inquisitive look.

"What's up with you, hm? Too tough for this?"

"What?"– Sero looks confused and puzzled, slowing down.– "Of course not! I'm worried about Bakugou-..."– his face turns sour.– "The dude stormed off to who knows where and we didn't follow. What if he didn't go on lunch? We literally dumped him from his perspective. I don't want him to think he scared us or something!"

Ashido widens her eyes and blinks once, before sprinting through the hallway to the cafeteria. Not long after, Kirishima runs after her – he doesn't process Sero's words fully, but if they need to rush to help Bakugou he is not going to question it. Sero sighs, switching from fast walk to jogging. Left behind, Kaminari groans, his legs in pain from all the physical activity. He follows with quick steps nevertheless.

***

It's relaxing to do something he is used to. Pick up backpack, find a quiet place, put soaked in sweat clothes in thick plastic bag for toxic wastes. After that ignite the spark to clean his body. It hurts, not figuratively burns – too much nitroglycerin on his skin and only his palms have proper protective layer. Clean what's left with sponge, throw it away to the clothes. Without unnecessary movements he quickly changes into an absolutely identical set, neatly folded at the bottom of his backpack.

Katsuki breaths in. It's uncanny how easy he does so. His body is numb, practically unresponsive, but his head never had been this clear before. He panicked. Stupid mistake, honestly. Now they probably think he's a weirdo who can't smile. Not that they would be wrong about it – he can't, as practice showed.

Blond breaths out. He can't feel his-... Anything, but oh well, he can move it. Good enough. With stiff fingers Katsuki fishes out of backpack a small bottle of pills. He fidgets with it, focuses on indistinct smooth texture.

It would be pathetic if he doses it wrong after whatever the fuck he had pulled off today.

With calm confidence Katsuki finds his way to the cafeteria. It's cramped with students, some of them chat, loudly exclaiming their thoughts, others prefer to indulge in food consumption. He notices that none of his friends are here. It upsets him on the back of his mind, but his dad raised him better than to be greedy. He got hugs! Actual, not half-assed hugs! Katsuki can accept even if they never want to talk with him again. Although, he doubts they would. They're too soft for such cruelty.

When Katsuki sits down with a tray at one of the tables all of the students behind it are, unsurprisingly, gone. He calmly takes out his phone and googles full instructions to his adrenaline pills. Letters appear on a hotbar with annoying inconsistency, finger tips too cold for the touchscreen to register all taps. After a few minutes he puffs and carefully shakes out on his palm three capsules, gulping them down one after another.

Only after that he starts to eat. Food feels bland and pricks his tongue with sourness. Katsuki fucking hates it when his sense of taste goes numb. Still, he continues to devour curry, even without any satisfaction.

Peace lasts for about five minutes.

Someone shuffles from another table to sit opposite. Katsuki doesn't lifts his head up, diligently chewing on the piece of meat. Person opposite puts their hands on the table. Wide palms and short sturdy fingers with few scratches there and there, skin pale and rough. They drum on table, fidget and tremble, unsure of what action to settle on.

Katsuki bites the metallic spoon in his mouth with great force. In the process he accidentally bites down on his tongue. Taste of iron stings.

They've changed, but he recognises those hands.

Temples throb with pain. Veins pop. How the fuck did he manage to forget this? Forgetting how to use his quirk is one hell of a problem, but practically erasing from existence the great chunk of his miserable life? Never ever again he would take medicine without prescription. Drugs fucking suck!

He holds back nervous chuckle, but a huff slips out. Katsuki stops chewing on the poor utensil, taking it out of his mouth and demonstratively scooping lots of rice. It doesn't work. His already numb body gives up, spoon stuck in curry and hand lying limply beside.

Run.

It devours him. He's on the menu now.

Run.

Voice of his reflex echoes over and over again.

RunrunrunrunrunrunrunRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUN-

He can't. Legs are tied to the ground, heavy, made out of cotton wool and soaked in his blood.

Or maybe they're gone. Maybe Monster ate them already. He would need to look down to check this, but it would be akin to admitting his defeat.

Katsuki would never.

Hands opposite stiffen. They are trying to guess what Katsuki feels. Try to find cracks in blond's defence, that he had built through all those years. They know, they somehow sense that he's weak now. Vulnerable, trusting and open.

Nose wings flare up. Katsuki wants to cry.

He is child again, awaken in the middle of the night by unsettling feeling. He will shift in his place. He will try to calm down. He will look up, purely by accident, his bed taken by someone else.

He will see them.

His throat will spasm. His face will distort. He will bite his tongue. He will attack. Unsuccessfully. Mom and Auntie Inko will barge in. Auntie Inko would leave with them. His mom will yell and question.

And he will cry as he never would cry again: clinging to shocked and worried mom's clothes, lean into her hands, wail at the gentle words of reassurance, choke on water given to him by dad, sobbing, begging to not leave him alone, shaking with his whole core.

Katsuki squeezes his jaw, muscles bulge and move under his skin.

"Ka-Kac-Kacchan-"

"What the fuck,"– Bakugou growls.– "Do you need?"

"Nothing-! Nothing in particular, I promise! I just-... Well, you were- were doing amazing on Cavalry Battle! I've never seen you using your quirk like this before..."

"Which is unacceptable,"– trembling hands quietly add, no one but Katsuki able to hear it. Because how can this nervous voice be satisfied with not knowing everything about Katsuki? It can't. This is why it's here.

"It's none of your fu-cking business,"– voice breaks in the middle of the sentence.

Katsuki breaths in. Too many slips, too many signs of weakness. Red eyes dart further opposite. Royal blue sleeve barely hides a cross-like scar on the wrist. Pink marble with white, blue and purple worms. It twists and cracks a smile, outlined with dark and sick skin, laughing at Katsuki's pathetic display.

"Kacchan-... I was-... You know, I've been watching you since the very start. It's- It's incredible that you managed to come up with a way to- To- To strengthen your q-q-q-quirk!"

Red eyes move to the left. Few tables further there are Round Cheeks and Four Eyes watching. Spectators of the hilarious show where one villainous bully is forgiven by kind hearted Hero. They look supportive, encouraging, hopeful. Reflex tugs his face muscles and second later he's scowling at poor extras. Round Cheeks have decency to look away. Four Eyes, on the contrary, shoots him a judging gaze.

Slight movement. Silent. Quiet. Barely noticeable.

Dry pale hand reaches for his. It's fingers tense, cracking joints. Scar on the wrist widens, baring it's "teeth" – tense pink skin, veiny fabric going from the top to bottom.

Katsuki jerks his own hand, weak sparks fall from his palm. Scrawny arm stops.

"Kacchan, if you will not let me look at your hand..."

"Run,"– reflex shouts.

"Unacceptable,"– pale hands answer.

"I'm just like you,"– cross-like scar whispers.– "I'm just like you. I'm just like you. I'm just like you. I'm just like you. I'm just like you. I'm just like you. I'm just like you."

Katsuki breaths in – too deep, painful. He gives up. His hand turns upside down. Vulnerable, trusting and open-

his world
explodes
In pink

"Oi, Bakugou!"– loud, cheery, out of breath, those words hit him from above with unbelievable amount of friendliness.– "I-!... Woo!... Gimme a second... Fooh... Sorry! We got late! You saved place for us? Amazing! You can be a sweetheart when you try, Bakugou! Oh, hi, Midoriya! Wassup?"

Blond looks to the side, confused, and sees Ashido, who just a second ago ran up to them and almost got thrown onto the table from the impact with it. Uniform on her is too big, one sleeve rolled up to the shoulder, the other one hanging low, covering half of the palm. Her pink hands – bright pink, blooming, soft, not deadly pale, not a soulless marble – are now in-between him and the voice opposite akin to a wall.

Katsuki is unsure how to react. Fear sticks to him, malodorous and gooey, squeezes his throat, tugs numbed muscles. He is tempted to yell, but looking at bright and caring smile his reflex obediently shuts up-

BOOM
world
shakes
with
deep red

"Baku-bro! Hi!"– red blur accidentally screams in his ear, before moving away, clenching his fists and shaking them up and down.– "We are here! Hi!"

Katsuki is glad that he had cleaned all excessive sweat, otherwise, Kirishima, who crashed into him while running after Ashido, would've had troubles. Two pairs of red eyes. One are akin to ruby, lighted spots shine with orange, wet and narrowed. The other is dark, innocently big and determined, focused on blond's spiky hair.

Katsuki is scared. He already gave up, he wants to cry, he can't feel his body and he's so lost. But when he sees them – his friends – the feeling of unfamiliar clearness and serene confidence yet again swells in his chest. If fear is liquid covering him with waste from head to toe, then this – it's painfully sweet bleeding wound crossing his lungs and heart; wound he keeps irritating, not allowing it to heal.

"Oh- Uhm... Hi. You're... Kirishima-san and?..."

"Mina Ashido!"– pink girl immediately waves it off.– "It's okay if you forgot. We don't talk much, don't we?"

It's embarrassing, but Katsuki unconsciously leans to Kirishima and quietly grabs the fabric of the boy's pants. Redhead doesn't seem to mind, he doesn't spare a single glance at tensed fingers tugging on his clothes, instead proceeding to show his tooty smile to the world.

"Yes, t-that-that's true."

"So, Mido-Mido! Never seen you hanging out with Bakugou before,"– Ashido wiggles her eyebrows playfully.– "So what's the deal, pray tell?"

It's excruciating to see, how Ashido's body move closer to the source of nervous voice. Her upper half disappears from blond's view, but by her posture he can tell she's hugging shoulders, from which scarred hands grow.

"Oh! We- We were childhood friends. Well, I mean, our moms were best friends- They're still best friends, well. So we we-wen-went to the same kindergarten and then to-to-to the same school. We are- Were neighbours too."

"Re-e-e-eally?! Damn! Why don't I ever see you talking then?"– sound of hand smacking forehead.– "Wait, wait! So that's why you had all this borrowing books thing going on, right?"

"B-book borrowing?..."

"Yeah, when you, you know! Came to the dorms, I was just coming home from dance practice and you were there, struggling to open the door,"– she sarcasticly groans, but continues to ramble.– "No shame though. I don't think I'd understand how to open that fancy lock even if Bakugou showed me how to-"

The wound inside his chest opens, fills his lungs with red. Hand jerks, ready to pull Ashido back, away from curious intertwind fingers. Katsuki forces himself to stop. He can't show that he cares about her. He can't show that he is aware. He can't show that he is scared. Keep it to yourself, you coward. Blond clenches fabric of Kirishima's clothes.

"-It's very sweet of you to stay in touch with this boom-boom gremlin even after he moved. You said something about cooking book right? I totally did not believe you when you implied Bakugou can cook. But I take my words back! I'm so excited to hang out today!"

Nervous voice is gone, replaced by the thunderous whisper. Two syllables, but they were hundreds time more deafening than blond's exploisons. Katsuki freezes. He knows this tone. He knows those two syllables. They were often whispered behind his back, far away or from the side. Katsuki got used to them. Katsuki knows how to handle them.

He never heard them to be pointed at someone else.

The wound in his chest bleeds more, but his lungs are already full. Red flows out, covers insides with warm.

"Yeah,"– Kirishima chimes in.– "We are having a little celebration party at Bakugou's after the Festival. He said he's going to cook for us-"

"Is that somehow related to how you guys... Were excited after the Cavalry Battle?"

"Huh?"– Kirishima's expression lost and puzzled.

"You did snatched away Kaminari right after the end, so I was curious as to why. Couldn't see properly, but it's hard to miss such a big group of students gathering together."

Stuttering is gone. Hesitation is gone. Anxiety is gone. It's pure curiosity now. Unfiltered, pure and straightforward.

Katsuki feels his muscles tense. Fingers let go of Kirishima. Warm and sweet blood from the wound overlaps black liquid wastes covering his body.

"Uh, well..."– redhead blinks, confused by the sudden change of subject.

"Not really,"– Ashido answers on his behalf.– "We were planning to crash at his place for a long time now! But we did find a name for us! Bakusquad! Maybe you'd like to join-"

"Actually, I was wondering... I am not sure, but I saw you hugging Bakugou. And I know that his sweat is a great danger when in direct contact with one's skin..."

Long time ago mom was hugging him when he was scared, when bawled his insides out, accidentally blowing up the band's on his palms. Dad was there, talking in soft murmurs and caring hums, bringing glass of water, warm blanket, plushies and action figures.

Half an hour ago it was Ashido who was holding him from breaking down, from clawing his heart out. It was Kaminari who murmured right questions. It were Sero and Kirishima who got him water and towels.

"So I was wondering how are you alright?"

Red eyes stare at pale hands. They reach behind and take out a notebook. "For analysis" it says. Katsuki's lips form one thin line, something clicks with "pop" in his neck.

It's a notebook that no one else should be in. It's his burden. It's his fight. It's his Monster to beat.

"This is all thanks to my quirk, actually-"– Ashido tries to answer, only to be interrupted again.

"Figured that part, yes. Is this why your skin is pink? You're immune to acid, if I remember right. Does it mean you can touch Kacchan without any consequences? Are you immune to any toxic, poisonous and venomous elements? How much can you take? Are your inner organs immune too?"

It hits him.

He failed at hiding how important his friends are to him the exact moment he allowed Ashido to hug him.

They are a target now. Just as he is.

Constant gaze, stalking, stealing, peeking, manipulation, estrangement from society. Katsuki failed to protect them from these.

He can feel his fingers now. They are cold. Frozen. Tips pulsing along with steady heartbeat. Reflex is silenced. No, not silenced. Muffled by another feeling.

"Excuse me?-"

"Hey guys. Don't run away from us next time, please,"– Sero appears, drugging Kaminari with him.– "It's so hard to carry this philosophical ass."

Silence is choking. Cafeteria continues to live, loud and uncaring, sounds and voices overlapping. Kirishima looks from his fists, to Ashido, to Bakugou, his mouth opening but not making any sound. Ashido frowns in confusion, standing straight and defensively putting her arms over her chest. Kaminari and Sero awkwardly shift at their place, former clearly exhausted and second annoyed and worried.

No.

No. They should not be like this.

They should've not felt like this.

Katsuki thinks, his mind razor sharp.

They will never ever again feel like this.

"I asked if you-"

Katsuki snaps.

Without pretending.

It's mere second he needs to somehow awake his body, pull all of his muscles to the maximum, raise his right hand and crash it into the table.

Tray jumps and glass with juice knocks over, liquid colouring surface with orange. The sound produced is blaring, accompanied by clangs of silverware. Redhead standing the closest to him jolts, but only few students nearby react, turning away, so not to face barking dog.

Katsuki might as well broke his bones. Excruciating pain digs into his flesh, his whole arm is a static on an old TV.

Nevertheless, Katsuki raises from his seat. He floats without feet touching ground. World goes dark, spinning around, sounds are a cacophony of laughs, mumbles and clincking. Doesn't matter. He doesn't need to see to know where to look.

Opposite from him, in the middle of pitch black emptiness, are two pools of green. Toxic wastes, acid, poison, breath of death. Katsuki looks straight into those swells of freakish jade. Dots inside of them are darker than spinning surroundings. He doesn't need to see, because the look of those eyes are burned into Katsuki's mind, haunting him day and night: when he sleeps, when he wakes up, when he eats, when he talks, when he showers, when he studies, when he simply breaths. They're always here, observant and attentive.

Katsuki never looked in them without choking fear and despair, without holding breath, unwilling to share same air with Him.

Now he can't breath out. His body is a mess of static, steady heartbeat and warm blood. His voice is a mix of cold speech, primitive roar and furious hiss. Katsuki leans in, looking deeper into pitch black punctures on green surface.

"I will say it once,"– every word is pronounced with utmost unstoppable rage; he swallows.– "If you dare ever again to...
To talk,
to touch,
to even as much as look at them."

Katsuki leans further.

"You
will
regret it.
Because I know you much better than you know me.
Because I know how to make you regret you're still alive.
Because I don't have anything to lose anymore. You made sure to take everything away, didn't you?"

His words are barely above whispers, getting more quiet and quiet with each sound, for no one but the person opposite to hear.

"I hit you and you take it. I kick you and you fall. I die and you die right after.
You're nothing.
I'm nothing.
But they're so much more important then you or me. So if they experience even a slight inconvenience because of you,
I will
kill
myself and
burn
my body
in flames.
You'd never get it.
You will have no choice but to die with me."

Katsuki stands up straight, looking down at Deku. Darkness went away, legs respond to his commands – buzzing with numbness, but firm. Now, when his rage is real, not induced by fear or constant state of anxiety, Katsuki can't help but despise the creature who dared to touch what he treasures. Scrawny posture, sickly pale skin, greyish eyebags, round face with childish fat still present, ruffled uniform and unkempt greasy hair. There's a particularly interesting stain of dirt and ash on Deku's chest. Blond remembers how Kaminari told him about Katsuki decking jerk and sending him to fly in half conscious state.

Katsuki huffs in annoyance and raises his eyebrows.

"Why are you still here? Leave, you idiot. It's place for my friends, not your sorry ass."

Acid pools are swirling, small black dots dart from place to place. Deku immediately complies, shuffling out of cafeteria with his face blank.

Katsuki plops down on the couch with relief and puts his hands in pockets.

Fucking hell, he didn't know he can do that! Can he do that?! Well, he just did that! What kind of motherfucking clusterfuck just happened? Shit, fuck, crap, fuck, fuck.

"I don't know what happened,"– Kaminari slurs.– "But it was stupefying."

"I guess?..."– Kirishima scratches his face with troubled expression.– "It was kind of mean to Midoriya. But on the other side Midoriya was saying rude stuff to Ashido-san."

"It's not that they were rude, but definitely creepy and weird,"– Ashido shivered, exaggerating her body shaking and shamelessly plopping herself next to the blond.– "Uraraka told me he's a quirk nerd, but I didn't think he's that freaky about them. But you did overreact, boom boom boy."

"Pft, it's always the quiet ones,"– Sero goes from the other side and takes a sit on Katsuki's right.– "He gets what he deserves. If I, who just joined the conversation, felt uncomfortable because of him, he practically asked for this. Besides, it was pretty badass. Like in anime."

"Yeah!"– Kirishima leaves his worries behind after hearing word «badass» and jumps onto the opposite couch, toothy grin plastered on his face, clecnched fists on the table.– "It was so manly! You were like a brutal hero from an old movie! All serious and with a deadly stare, just to protect those you care for."

"Protect from what? Some nerd getting nosey with Ashido-san? Like she's not used to this,"– Kaminari puffs, and winces from the pain in his foot.– "Ouch! I certainly did hit my leg on Cavalry Battle."

"Boohoo!"– Ashido mocks him, pretending to wipe a tear.– "Pikachu got a scwatch on his little ankl-l-l-le."

"Sh-shut up!"– Kaminari stutters, blushing with his ears and neck.

"Oh, want me to give you a kissy so it doesn't hurt?"– Sero grins and proceeds to make smooching sounds.

"Yeah, no!"– bright blond pushes Kirishima forward.– "Kiss this guy instead! I'm sure he needs it with how empty his head is!"

"Why wouldn't you want a kissy?"– redhead questions with sincerity.– "I thought kissies are good. My mum always gives me a kissy on forehead!"

"Well-... It's-... It's not that they're bad, I guess-..."

"Don't pay him attention, dude,"– Sero reaches for Kirishima's shoulder.– "He never got kissies before and embarrassed because of this."

The pure pity Kirishima has on his face can be placed along with the Birth of Venus, Mona Lisa and Creation of Adam. Sadly, this masterpiece is ephemeral and too breathtaking to grace the Earth more than once, so it changes to determination.

"I can ask my mum to give you a kissy too!"

"What? Ew, no! Who would want to kiss your mom?"

"It's all because no mom would want to kiss him, Kirishima,"– conspiratorial whisper echoes.

Even if one beautiful sunset is never destined to be repeated, there always will be a better one. As such, Kirishima yet again graces the world, but this time with an honest to God visualisation of compassion and understanding. Kaminari chokes on his words, while Sero falls on the table, guffawing.

Katsuki feels a tug on his elbow. He shots a glance left. Ashido gently smiles at him. Blond suddenly realises he is grinning too. It's not a smile, thus much more sparing on his cheeks, and it's not as embarrassing. He doesn't hide it.

"You don't need to tell us what's wrong, Bakugou,"– Ashido says, and everyone else quiet down and smile approvingly.– "You can keep it as long as you want. But you need to know, that we are always here to help without any question but «how»."

"Yeah! We are Bakusquad! You take care of us and we take care of you!"– Kirishima cheers.

"It's all great, but I want to eat something before we are going to fight with powerhouses like our Spitz, Tokoyami or Todoroki."

"Oi,"– Katsuki grumbles.– "Why am I Spitz but Half Faced and Edgy Bird are with names?"

"Oh, right, pardon me my slip up,"– Sero nods and stands up.– "Like our Spitz, Half Faced and Edgy Bird."

"I'm first!"– Kaminari rushes out of the table only to wince in pain.– "Ouch! No, okay! Not first."

"I'll help you, man,"– redhead follows Kaminari, giving him a shoulder to lean on.

Katsuki breaths in. Breaths out. Nothing in-between.

"We'll be back soon, Baku-kun,"– Ashido chirps and gives him a long look.– "And thank you. For standing up for us. For me."

Katsuki stares back. He tries frowning, but it ends up unnatural and in no sense threatening, because pink girl only smiles wider.

"Of course I did. You're my friends,"– he grumbles, suddenly shameful.– "So fuck off. Get some food. Might at least try to fill in those hanging clothes of yours."

She blows him a raspberry before catching up with others.

The wound in his chest is bleeding. This pain is sweet. It's not anger, sadness or fear. Katsuki likes his friends. It's longing. A wish to be around, to be cared for and to care. Katsuki hums.

He is going to cook the best fucking spicy-but-not-really curry in their life, then flip them over with the sweetnes of the daifuku and deck the shit out of them with incredible amount of umami in the takoyaki.

Chapter Text

Katsuki is leaning back in the couch, arms crossed over chest, looking up at the ceiling and occasionally glancing at the person who was currently talking. His heart has steady rythm, but it beats with incredible force somewhere in-between his collarbone and throat, perhaps, stuck there. It's probably the aftermath of nearly collapsing from a heart attack. Definitely not because Sero's knee is slightly touching his and he's too embarrassed to move it away – what if he notices that and decides Katsuki hates him? And definitely not because Ashido keeps casually patting his shoulder or arm or forearm – she does it so shortly he can't even react and snap at her in time.

Katsuki tries to keep it together: screaming and wheezing and thrashing around on the inside at the unusual contact, but on the outside only his neck muscles tense and eyes don't dare to stay on someone for longer than fifteen seconds.

"Oh, uhm, Mina-chan,"– ingratiating voice interrupts Sero's story about his junior school years.– "All girls have to be part of the cheer squad after lunch! Like them, over there!"

Katsuki lazily shifts his eyes on a small figure with purple blobs on top of his head. Grape Pervert. Boy smiles innocently, eyes slightly squinted and cheeks pink, and points at group of girls moving through the cafeteria to sit at empty table. All of them wear cheerleading costumes: knee-high socks, short orange skirts and crop tops with white letters "U.A." plastered on them. Bright yellow pompoms lie by their hips. Strangerly, all of them seem to be of american or at least european origin. It's not rare to meet foreigners at school, but it's weird to see them in one big group.

"Eh? Really?"– Mina blinks, gaping at cheerleading group.

"Seems pretty suspicious to me,"– Sero hums.

"Hm-m-m? Don't trust me because I'm not some handsome boy?"– Grape grumbles, clicking tongue, and shrugs.– "Whatever. Your loss. Aizawa-sensei told me about it himself."

"You uh- You know, guys, I think I heard something like this,"– Kaminari sputters, spoon with rice still in his mouth.

"Exactly. Besides,"– gremlin puffs, glancing at the other table where Katsuki's female classmates seemed to gather.– "Can't you see others right here? Why would they prepare for something that I lied about?"

Ashido shoots blond a glance. It's short – she looks away like nothing happened second before Katsuki turns his head to face her, but he has more than ten years of experience in spotting glances. No way he can be fooled by this pathetic attempt! What does she want? Opinion? Advice? Permission to go? Are friends supposed to give one to other friends? What a fucking mess. He purses his lips in thought.

"Oh, yeah, m-kay! Shit, why do I always forget stuff like this?"– Mina mumbles, hastily devouring what left of her lunch and raising from her place.– "Good luck, boyz-z-z! I'll sniff you later-"

"Sit."

Katsuki's voice is slightly off-key to his embarrassment, hoarse and croacking.

She does.

Ashido sits down under the pressure of Bakugou's hand. Totally not because Bakugou sounds like her mom when angry... Absolutely not because of this, really.

Instead of her the blond stands up. Grape Pervert immediately shuts up, freezing and staring at him, bug eyed. Big black eyes fix on Bakugou's calloused hands. Scared, huh?... Now this is normal. Fucking finally! Something he's used to! Katsuki clicks his tongue and shuffles past short boy.

"Bakugou?"– Sero calls him out.

He floats above the ground, glides through the cafeteria – his feet still burning with light pain, pulsating, throbbing. Students, startled, jump and move out of his way. Then he stops. Bakugou gently taps on the surface of the table with index finger, lips pursed but eyebrows relaxed, asking for attention.

– Ah, yes? Hello?– closest to him cheerleader questions on english, confused.

– Name's Bakugou,– he announces on english as well, politely nodding.– Sorry for intruding. I wanted to ask something, if you don't mind.

– Oh, yeah, sure! It's alright,– girl smiles at him.– You have great english! No accent at all.

Bakugou bites his own tongue, holding back a remark – "everyone has an accent, you dumbass". He's not here to be a nerd though, so he continues.

– One of my classmates is a perverted bitch,– he bluntly states, making two of the cheerleaders choke on their drinks.– He says that girls from my class need to do cheerleading along with you and other students. It's hard to believe, but our teacher will get mad if it's true and they didn't give a single fuck about his order. It's better to check, isn't it? So do you know anything about this crap?

Apparently they find him hilarious for some reason, because now all of them either are holding back giggles or smiling widely. Katsuki tries not to pout, instead opting to squint and huff in annoyance. Apparently, a lot of people find him hilarious with how often everyone laughs at him lately. What the fuck is up with that?

– I, uh-,– girl chokes on her words, trying to suppress laugh, whole body shaking.– No! No, we... H-h-h, we don't- don't know anything about this. Yu-Yuuei? Hired us alone for-ha! Hrm... for this event 'pecifically-...

– Thanks,– Bakugou slightly bows his head and abruptly turns on heels, marching back to his friends, deep frown on his face.

Of fucking course, Grape Pervert is being a pervert. Wasn't it obvious from the start? Bakugou walks up to his table. Gremlin is still, surprisingly, present. Bad idea. But maybe he doesn't want to live. Short boy shakes with his whole body, eyes darting and breath ragged. At least this fucker understands he made a big mistake by trying to pull shit like this on his watch.

"Baku-bro! Why did you go to them?"– Kirishima exclaims.– "Did you ask them about cheerleading?"

"Lo-o-o-o-ok at the ti-i-i-ime, ha-ha,"– Grape stutters.– "I need to go-"

Grape Pervert attempts to run but fails, falling victim to Bakugou's sturdy and cold fingers. It is... Strangerly satisfying. To be able to confront someone you don't like and be successful. Maybe it's those pills, making him happy all over again...

As Katsuki purposefully harshly squeezes Grape's head he can't help but observe short boy. Pale skin, big eyes, messy uniform, round face and small hands, childish fat still present. What's the difference between him and Monster- No, Deku. Bakugou will never ever again allow Deku to scare him. Why does he can confront Perverted Grape so effortlessly, help someone else in the process too, but fails to simply defend himself from some pathetic nerd? What's so special about this good-for-nothing doormat?

"Ba-Bakugou, listen,"– mistaking blond's silence for hesitation short pervert sweetly speaks up.– "You know how it is, don't you? All boys love to see girls in pretty uniform. It's natural for us, right?"

"Is it?"– Bakugou can hear Kirishima's confused and upset question to Kaminari.

Kaminari ignores it, scraping all individual rice grains that were left on the sides of his bowl with exaggerated force.

Bakugou frowns and clicks his tongue. Grape dares to look hopeful. What an idiot. Blond practically tosses the boy by his collar to stand infront of Ashido. Both of them stare at each other with widened eyes, but one stares with disgust, the other one with fear and anxiety.

"Apologise,"– he commands calmly.

"Huh?"– the boy questions, trying to back away from Ashido whose face starts to change from disgust to irritation.

It's oddly satisfying. This calm rage. This cold power.

"Apologise,"– blond repeats.

All it takes for Grape to talk is fingers lowering to both sides of his neck, squeezing. Pervert trembles trying to stammer out an apology. Deku trembles and stammers too. But somehow it's different. Why is it different? Because Deku lies about being scared? Perhaps he's overthinking. Most likely Grape is simply more pathetic.

Bakugou frowns, bitter at the thought of this perverted teenager being worse than the person who ruined his whole life.

While he's in thought Grape manages to utter some comprehensible words – to Sero's amusement. Kaminari is eating for the second time from an empty bowl, enjoying a particularly juicy non-existent piece of meat. Kirishima blinks rapidly clenching and opening his fists, worried.

"I'm... Sorry."

Ashido is ready to strangle Grape with her own bare hands. Katsuki leisurely thinks that she probably would, if murder wasn't a crime.

Luckily for all of them, blond would never allow his friends to break law – additionally, he doesn't want to help to bury the body – so he shakes Grape's head again.

"For what are you apologising?"

"I-uh, wha?... Oh, uh, I'm sorry for... For trying to..."

Ashido picks up a fork and observes piece of dishware with contemplating expression. Who knew you can make fork look threatening? Bakugou did. Still, it was funny.

"I am very-very sorry for trying to fool you and about lying that you need to do cheerleading and about trying to make you wear short skirt and about wanting to watch you cheer in it,"– boy blurts out with blank expression.

The whole table goes silent. Some students nearby go silent too.

"Hey, I have an idea,"– Sero interrupts awkward silence with smug smirk.– "Why don't you apologise to all of the girls, Mineta? You would be a true gentleman this way. Ladies love gentlemen."

"Yeah! And apologising is good for your spirit!"– Kirishima smiles brightly, happy that the conflict had been resolved.

As he leads Grape to social execution at the hands of the girls Bakugou wonders why can't he do the same darn thing with Deku. Force him to apologise for all the years of loneliness, fear and discomfort. Force him to accept the fact that Bakugou has won and he has nothing else to do but to give up. It would've been wonderful. To confront him like earlier. To be the one who's scary. But he already tried this, didn't he? That's why he was marked as a bully in middle school. Threats don't work on Deku.

But why? There's no doubt Bakugou can make impressive angry mug and sure as hell he is not going easy on anyone nor he's someone soft. What's the difference between handling Deku and Grape?

Bakugou watches as Grape gets rightfully yelled at with certain detachment. The difference is obvious. Grape is perverted weirdo. Annoying and irritating teenager. Deku is terrifying. Deku can follow him everywhere. Deku never stops, never apologises. Sometimes Katsuki thinks he doesn't breath when he's outside of blond's space.

Bakugou unclenched his fingers, freeing Grape and leaving his classmates to blabber and deal with all the drama. He flicks wrist, planning to set a trail of sparks to get rid of sweat but there's none. Red eyes stare at the palm in disappointed betrayal. It's too cold in cafeteria.

Kirishima appears at his side, someone hangs on his shoulder – after asking for it in awkward tone – Ashido yapps about her dance classes and everything is fine. Everything is great. Fantastic.

Bakugou frowns. But Deku is a teenager too! He is not terrifying! He is not that smart, he's not that omnipotent! He's a nerd, a pebble, a mop of green hair, a doormat, a creep, useless, worthless thing who can't do nothing! Right? Deku is a human. Young boy. Dumb one. Weird one. Weak one. With heart and lungs and blood and... Other things real humans have. His eyes are not acid. They're not glowing. They're not pitch black. They are not opaque. They are just that. Eyes. Right?

"Do you know that you push your lower lip out when you frown?"

His train of thought is lost. Eyebrows ride up in light confusion. Bakugou turns to look at Ashido who stares at him with black and warm yellow eyes. They don't look scary. Not at all.

"Yeah, like that!"– Ashido joyfully smiles, pointing at his face.– "See! You pout your lip!"

His chin is, indeed, slightly further than usual, which might look like a pout. It is not. Bakugou purses lips in thin line, frowning in embarrassment.

"Aw-w-w, Bakugou is a little pouting ba-a-aby,"– Sero muses.

"Shut up!"– Bakugou snarls, feeling his ears go red.– "Hurry and let's go to the stadium, you fucking idiots! The break is almost over."

"Pouting baby-y-y..."– he hears a whisper from behind.

Stupid lips, stupid face, stupid Deku, stupid friends.

Chapter Text

Mitsuki hates summer with all the destructible power of thousand ballistic missiles. Whatever that means is unknown, but if you had ever met her it's not hard to get the vague idea. She was a nice woman if just slightly tiny bit too passionate. Mostly about things that irritated her. Among other points on her hate list there are: insects, because they like her sweet smell, hot weather, because it makes her sweaty, ugly clothes, because why should she settle for less when she has a shit-fucking-tone of money, and overly occupied schedule, because who they think she is – a working mule?

And summer has all of the mentioned. So it's on the hate list too, with a little star to it.

Their house has best and most modern air conditioners, which Mitsuki diligently takes care of. She had been insisting on doing this since she was a child, because waking up in a bed with soaked through sheets, smelling like someone dumped pile of melted sugar on her isn't nice, and trusting someone else to do this is fruitless, they'll eventually forget – unless they have similar issue, of course.

Unfortunately, all things end. So did the air conditioner in their bedroom. It served well, it was her fault it got broken, hopefully it gets into some sort of technique heaven. Admittedly, Mitsuki have got rusty since she realised she doesn't need to worry about Katsuki's room, her number one concern for the past twelve years.

Mitsuki found out that air conditioner was broken when she woke up because of disgustingly sweet smell. She shifted and felt blanket and sheets cling to her skin. It immediately ruined her mood, vein popping on the temple and eye twitching. Masaru soundly sleeping by her side with all the innocence of a mummy wasn't helping.

Mitsuki clenches her jaw, slipping out of bed and swiftly retreating to the bathroom. Not the best start of the day, but who cares? At least she doesn't need to get out of house today, the only job being redaction of pictures from the most recent photoshoot.

Her morning routine is simple, but today Mitsuki starts with throughout cool shower to get rid of the glycerin mixed with sweat. After that nothing unusual: brush teeth, use mint perfume so she doesn't smell too sweet, stretch, cook breakfast if it's her turn, check her email for anything important, scroll through the news, eat with... Just eat, while watching TV, Masaru might join in if he wakes up.

Somehow, Mitsuki has her routine ruined on second step. She is not feeling like wearing herbal with citrus, ocean and rose is an overkill for the no-gig day, yet she is out of "Déméter" mint and tea, which would be perfect right now. Mitsuki huffs, applying sunscreen on her face with pursed lips and a frown. Doesn't matter. She'll just take Katsuki's aquatic smell.

Done with simple skincare, Mitsuki reaches to Katsuki's shelf while inspecting her face in the mirror, contemplating whether she should put some natural makeup on to go outside later. Her fingers land on cold surface. Automatically, the hand wanders left and right, searching for the needed flask, but finds absolutely nothing. Mitsuki confusedly looks at the shelf, finding it uncomfortably empty, except for the small jar of eye cream that her son wasn't bothered taking.

Mitsuki frowns.

She stands there for a solid minute, before absent-mindedly picking up her flask with herbal.

***

Aizawa isn't getting payed enough to deal with this. He exhales with straight face, scratching his neck as he stares at two boys standing infront of him. At least Midoriya has some shame, his freckled cheeks bright pink colour, big green eyes avoiding Aizawa and hands locked together in an awkward embrace, parting only to fiddle with buttons of his jacket.

Bakugou, on the other side, looks like he did them a favour showing up at all, gracing teachers' room with his presence – arms crossed over puffed out chest, upper lip raised and showing pristine white teeth, red eyes narrowed and glaring with blatant irritation, as if he is forced to answer obvious question over and over again.

Aizawa has no idea why that happened, but Midoriya, apparently, thought it was a great idea to start chattering in the showers after P.E, trying to get into the same showering cubicle as the second boy. Bakugou did not share the sentiment, attempting to "blow up freak's face". While Aizawa knows that Midoria mutters frustratingly a lot and Bakugou certainly has some anger issues, he could never expect this exact situation to happen. Why couldn't they fight over a girl or the title of the strongest in the class instead, like normal students?

"Bakugou, you are going to write me an essay why using your quirk to harm someone is illegal. Four pages," – Aizawa says, receiving annoyed huff and roll of eyes.

Aizawa hardly sees any point in that. He already has two essays of similar kind from the always angry boy. They're impressively good written, even though their author doesn't seem to agree with his own conclusions.

"Fine,"– Bakugou mutters under his teacher's insistent silence.

"Uhm- Sensei, actually, maybe- You don't need to give Kacchan any punishment, it-it-it was my fault."

Midoriya awkwardly shifts his weight from one leg to another and scratches his cheek, giving Aizawa brief shy glances. In all fairness, Aizawa would prefer if Midoriya kept his eyes down – they weirdly don't fit the rest of the face. He won't say it out loud, of course. Judging someone just because they're not pretty is villains' job. His job is to somehow keep those crazy children alive and teach them how to not only save themselves, but also others.

"You're going to write an essay too, Midoriya,"– Aizawa blankly replies.

"Eh?"– Midoriya blinks, slowly processing his words.

Midoriya's confusion was expected. He doesn't seem like the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to social interactions. Wide eyes and trembling line of lips, hands frozen.

Yet, surprisingly, Bakugou looks even more shocked. His constantly tense posture softens, eyes still narrowed but without real heat as if he was so startled that his face forgot how to move, instead of upper lip it was lower one that opened, no teeth seen. And no blinks. Red eyes just slowly turned to Midoriya and then back to Aizawa.

"Yes, it's not exactly normal to invade someone's personal space, especially when they're in shower," – it's ridiculous that he has to explain it to an aspiring hero.– "And you'll elaborate why exactly on paper."

"Oh. Okay. Right. I understand,"– Midoriya nods, bowing.

Meanwhile Bakugou's mouth opens wider, shaping into agape smile, the rough glint returning to his features.

"Five pages,"– Aizawa adds.

The smile turns sharp and victorious. Bakugou looks in the opposite direction of Midoriya, but it's obvious he's gloating to himself, his nostrils flaring and fingers digging into the fabric of the jacket.

Aizawa doesn't have enough coffee to deal with this.

***

Masaru yawns, gives her soft smile and comes closer to peck her cheek. Usually he wouldn't wake up this early, his work starting at ten thirty, but Mitsuki "accidentally" forgot to turn off her alarm and just as "accidentally" left it on the bed. Duty calls, said duty being his dear wife and her astounding temper.

"When will you come back today?"– Mitsuki asks, handing him a bowl of rice.

"Six, dear,"– Masaru gently replies, even though he knows that Mitsuki remembers his schedule better than he does.

"Great, don't get late,"– it's a demand, of course, not a request.

"I won't. Maybe I'll get us dinner from that little ramen shop?" – he says, instead of mentioning vegetables.

"I like their gyoza," – Mitsuki agrees, hinting at what exactly she would like, sitting down at her side.

There's a strangerly empty place between them, dishes arranged in a way that would imply a third person is supposed to join. Masaru stays silent, taking a bit of tamagoyaki.

He puts a piece of salmon on a spoonful of rice. At the same time he notices unusually filled bowl of mustard spinach. "Unusually" is not technically correct term. Would "outdated" be more correct? Regular? Habitual? It's just too big for one person and he doesn't like mustard. Masaru doesn't say anything about it, but Mitsuki perks up anyway, pushing her lower lips out and narrowing eyes.

"What?" – she barks out, but with no conviction.– "I was feeling like eating a lot of spinach today."

"It's alright if you miss Katsuki, dear," – Masaru murmurs without looking up, putting another piece of salmon on the spoon of rice.– "I was thinking about actually going to the U.A. festival instead of watching it on TV. I'm sure he'll be happy to see us."

"Oh, shut up!" – Mitsuki huffs, angrily munching rice.– "Besides, that brat won't be happy. He's a little piece of shit. He will blow up your phone if he finds out we are taking pictures of him."

"Well, even then you'll be happy to see him."

Among his friends Masaru is known for being a freak, of sorts. No one can deny that handling a stubborn partner like Mitsuki requires an equal amount of stubborness. Masaru doesn't strike anyone as a stubborn person – he's soft spoken, polite, sweet and looks like someone who would be bullied by the likes of his wife. Which makes it look even more impressive when he calms Mitsuki down with just few words and then dares to argue.

Mitsuki mercilessly ripped a chunk out of her salmon, glaring at him with deep frown and a pout.

"So, are we-"

"Obviously we are going to go, you dumbfuck! What kind of mother you think I am?!"

"Loving one."

***

There is always some sort of division in all sort of groups, especially in school. It's like in those dumb movies about American schools, but less dramatic and more vague. There are jocks but they stick to other people based on their other, more socially interactive, interests; there are popular kids but they stick to whoever is most interesting to them personally; there are nerds but they stick to people who share same opinion on whatever they find important.

Jiro is convinced that their class, Hero 1-A, is divided on three groups: Bakugou team, Midoriya team and team of outcasts with emotionless Todoroki as their leader. She hasn't decided what team she is in yet. Not like it matters anyway.

It's Monday. She is paired with Kaminari, Ojiro and Uraraka for chemistry. Kaminari is blabbering non-stop to her, even when she tells him to focus, and somehow breaks the digital scales while trying to show off his quirk. They had to wait for another group to finish to borrow their's.

So no team Bakugou. Too much idiots.

It's Tuesday. Jiro sits down at the table with Koda. He seems like a quiet guy. And he is, really. Sweet and polite too. But when Jiro notices mid bite that there are insects crawling over his hand ("Ah... It's... Ground beetles..." my ass – Jiro thinks when he feeds them worms) she decides it does not worth it.

Is she really an outcast too? Jeez.

It's Thursday. Yaoyorozu asks Mina for help in creating group chat. Mina helps. But it's eleven in the evening and Sero and Mina decided it's fantastic idea to start a "meme battle", bombarding her and everyone else with notifications. Jiro puts phone on silence and alarm doesn't go off in the morning, so she has to forget about breakfast and run to the school.

Jiro notes to herself that all people in Bakugou team are idiots, one way or another.

It's Friday. Jiro is tired. She caught cold, her ear jacks hurt, her head hurts and her classmates are so loud! She thinks about skipping school, but they're having math test today, so she drags herself into the class, falling down on the chair with a sigh. Her ear jacks are wrapped in soft material to not get even more irritated.

That's when Midoriya walks up to her. He looks at her with wide green eyes, blinking, his hands clutching a notebook. Uraraka appears by his side, explaining that Midoriya was curious about Jiro's quirk and why she needs to wrap cloth around her jacks. Jiro doesn't mind. So far, Midoriya's team is the most tolerable one.

She opens mouth to answer, but Midoriya interrupts her. He rants about her quirk. For a long time. Passionately, but with uncomfortable detachment. Like if he's discussing a topic in biology. The fact he practically doesn't stutter while doing this unnerves her even more.

-quirk allows you to hear even the faintest sounds if you plug your ear jacks in the surface, right? I also saw you have amplifiers built-in in your shoes, so I suppose you can either redirect sounds or maybe use sounds that your body produces. If so, it's similar to Present Mic's quirk, in a way. But what I was curious about is whether you have heightened hearing even when your jacks are unplugged. Are they sensitive? Do they hurt if you squeeze them like any other part of the body? What about your humanoid earsm What do they have inside? Do you have defensive mechanisms to not get hurt? Temporary deafness, for example-

Jiro dryly answers to few of his questions until the bell rings. She barely holds back a sigh of relief. That was... Weird as fuck. Nerds can be so creepy sometimes.

It makes her headache worse. What a day. No way she goes to the team Midoriya now. He is too excited about quirks for her comfort. Jiro breaths in, takes the pencil and stares at the paper with math problems. Numbers swim around, mixing with letters. She unconditionally reaches for the ear jacks to play with them. The pain crawls up from her ears to her temples. Ugh. Math, math, math, math. Why do heroes even need maths?

Jiro feels a tap on her shoulder. It's Bakugou. He makes weird hand movements that she takes for a creative alternative to a middle finger at first. Jiro blinks confusedly. Bakugou stops the weird signing and huffs in irritation. He raises his hand and calls out to hero Ectoplasm with no shame.

"Sensei. Earplugs is fucking dying over there."

"Are you crazy?!" – Jiro hisses at him.

Surprisingly, Ectoplasm gives her permission to leave. He takes her to the nurse first, but Recovery Girl grumbles and tells her to go home as well. Mom picks her up on the car and they drive back, stopping at BurgerMight drive-through on the way.

There's nothing more heavenly than the softness of her bed at the moment. The only thought she has before falling asleep is "shit, I am on dumbasses' team now".

***

Mitsuki sits down on the couch with a satisfied expression. She is done with most of the work and now it's time for a break. Cold beer right out of the mini-fridge, spicy snacks, pillow under her arm and volleyball tournament streaming on TV. She had no time to play herself recently – summer, of course, plus Inko wasn't available, working more than usual. This was her way to relax. No one could ruin this evening for her.

The match starts, Mitsuki gradually moves from the back of the couch to the edge, clutching fists and occasionally barking out in excitement or frustration. When her favourite team gets a point with a spike, the ball bouncing into referee's side and scaring him – an asshole on the side of the opponent, fucking buttlicker – she produces something between primitive roar and taunting laugh, raising middle fingers to the screen.

When she calms down, she lies back with a sigh of content. Her red eyes watch the rest of the set with some daze. It's so quiet in here. Mitsuki inhales and awkwardly looks around, like it'll be embarrassing if someone spotted her searching for a company, but Masaru is not home yet. She's completely alone. There's no one else to discuss the play with.

Her brows unconsciously relax into a blank frown.

Her favourite team scores another point. Mitsuki hums, picks up the cold bottle and sips on her beer.

"This is stupid... You're stupid... Get your shit together..." – she grumbles to herself.

A loud creak, followed by the sounds of the outside world bursting in: people talking, wind, birds, bicycles, dogs barking.

Her heart summersaults at the sound of door opening. The cool bottle of beer slips out of her hand, her reaction and coordination not good enough to catch it. The liquid pours down on her lap and soaks the pillow, bitter smell feeling the air.

"Fucking sweet hell, you dumb piece of shit! Who the fuck opens door so abruptly?! Look at this cluster fuck of a mess! Now we are going to stink like homeless ass drunkards!" – Mitsuki hastily stands up and tries to salvage the situation with closest napkins, the add of the of beer on TV not helping.– "Shit, shit, fucking hell, f-f-f-f-fu-u-u-uck!..."

"Dear, it's alright. No need to overreact," – Masaru came up to her with paper towels from the kitchen, his hand holding a phone.

"We'll see how you underreact when I put fist in your face!" – Mitsuki huffs, angry more than usual.

As she is trying to clean the pillow Mitsuki realises she is really acting more irritated than usual. She is just as loud as Katsuki at this point. Before it was both of them – fuming, grumbling, yelling, letting out all that stress and energy, ranting to each other and judging others together. Now she has only Masaru and he... Don't get her wrong, Mitsuki loves Masaru more than anyone else, but there's no fun in arguing with that perfect man. Little blond asshole just like her on the other hand...

Mitsuki throws the pillow into the wall, stomping out of living room in a fit of rage to change beer smelling shorts. Masaru can hear something that suspiciously resembles swearing.

He chuckles with a gentle smile, putting the phone back to his ear as he sits down in the armchair by the couch.

"I'm sorry, Katsuki. Your mom spilled her drink."

"No shit, really?" – sarcastic voice came from the speaker.– "I thought she was just murdering people as usual."

***

Masaru Bakugou loves his family. Admittedly, he isn't the one wearing pants, but he likes to think he holds a different kind of authority. Katsuki always had been a loud and proud boy, surely taking after his mom and doubling it with strong quirk and diligence for studying. When Mitsuki and Katsuki argue, which happens fairly often, Masaru doesn't interfere unless one accidentally crosses the line without realising – this happens, contrary to people's beliefs, hardly at all. "Argue" is a wrong word for what they have. Masaru thinks "heated discussions with filigreed use of profanities" would fit better.

Mitsuki and Katsuki's relationship are close to that of childhood friends. Yes, maybe they're not best friends, but being by each side for so long makes you lose an understanding of where "I" ends and "We" begins. For Mitsuki more than for their son.

What role Masaru played in their family, to dream of holding some power over two unruly beasts? Well, for the starters, he's the only one who doesn't have natural hatred towards failure. It may not sound impressive until you hear the story of how he had to explain the advantage of good rest to a four year old child using slideshow with simplified scientific researches. Fortunately, Katsuki picks up information fast and since then he have been diligently making sure to sleep as much as he should at his age (Despite Mitsuki's attempts to turn him to the dark side).

Masaru's second usefull feature is that he is capable of not sounding threatening. As much as his family is proud of themselves, they're still people who need to be openly appreciated and cared for sometimes.

"You moved out just few weeks ago, but we are already missing you, Katsuki," – Masaru softly murmured into the phone imagining his son's always frowning expression.– "We decided to go to the U.A. stadium to cheer for you directly at the Festival. Mom's excited to see you."

"Oh, shut up," – Katsuki grumbles, TV muttering in the background.– "It's not much different from TV. Besides, I don't think Witch is really that excited about sitting in a crowded space in summer. She'll strangle someone there and I'll have to deal with it."

Masaru smiles to himself. His colleagues sometimes ask if he's upset that Katsuki took solely after Mitsuki. Questions like this are beyond his understanding. How can he be upset that his son is just as wonderful and passionate as the woman he promised his life to?

"She probably will. But aren't you excited too?"

On the other side of the line something falls and Katsuki grumbles, getting distracted. Masaru expects a string of profanities – "Fucking sweet hell, you dumb piece of shit! What the fuck is your problem?!" – but none come. He hears Katsuki doing something with a sigh.

He sighed.

And that's wrong. His son doesn't... Sigh. Not because he's loud, but because that's not Katsuki. He can silently glare, aggressively inhale or click his tongue, but not sigh. Masaru wants to think that Katsuki's maturing, naturally changing to fit better in his new life. He can't always be a spitting image of his mom, it's absolutely fine if he's going to change.

"Sorry, dad. I... Broke the window handle few days ago. So it doesn't close now. I just... Pile stuff so it doesn't open. Don't want fucking insects getting in," – Katsuki explains but even his little curse sounds shallow.– "There's really no need to come. I'll be fine."

But that's not changing. Not natural changing at least. Katsuki sounds tired. Exhausted, even. Katsuki. His son. His overly energised little hedgehog that used to try and fight bugs with fists, his loud boy that was happily jumping around like a wild beast when he got his quirk even though his hands were burned, his Katsuki that used to hide face in Masaru's side while crying when he got in the hospital.

Masaru opened mouth, to ask but stopped himself. That won't work. He sighed too.

"Alright. I understand,"– Masaru murmurs, smiling a bit to not alarm Katsuki.– "I guess you don't really need a support team when you already know what place you'll get."

"I'll win,"– Katsuki barks out and it makes Masaru smile in relief at familiar phrase.

"Of course you will. You can't lose."

Silence again. Before Masaru can continue conversation, Mitsuki returns to the living room, complaining about the smell of beer.

"Why are you still on the phone?"– Mitsuki huffs, dropping herself on the couch. – "I thought you don't have anything important for now."

"Oh, it's Katsuki," – Masaru replies with a smile already turning up the volume.

Mitsuki jumps in her place with wide eyes, but quickly adjusts herself when she hears Katsuki's yell.

"Hey, Witch! Did you see that that fucking perfect hit Chisuru-san made?! Shit, those suckers have no chances against them in fair fight! If not for the dumb ass referee we would've won in three sets!"

Mitsuki perks up, her red eyes burning with fiery excitement.

"I know! This bitch clearly doesn't know how to pick a fight! With Kitagawa-san back as libero they can go as far as fucking nationals!"

Masaru winces at the volume of her voice, not minding when Mitsuki snatches the phone out of his hands to blabber about the game. TV volume also goes up and now it's a cacaphony of yells, screams, cheers and squeaking of players' shoes.

With chaos on the background, Masaru opens U.A.'s website and buys two tickets at the stadium, upper seats.

Chapter Text

"This is going to be so cool!"– Kirishima practically vibrates in place in excitement, turning from the screen to Bakugou again and again.– "Aren't you excited to fight with Todoroki-kun? You two are the strongest students in our class! This battle is going to be a true man on man fight!"

Bakugou doesn't reply, partly listening to a ruckus other students cause – Four Eyes, Edgy Bird and an extra from B-class give up their places in finale because they can't remember Cavalry Battle. Seems to be related to that Purple Asshole's quirk. Idiots, really. He doesn't remember the Cavalry Battle either, but look at him – he doesn't whine about it.

But, to be honest, he can't share Kirishima's excitement. Emergency trip to a spa with Witch sounds much more tempting at the moment. His body aches, his palms sting and he can't confidently say that his body is fine after the rollercoaster his heart experienced. On the other hand, Bakugou would rather die than lose. Especially right now, when his battle will be broadcasted and then recorded for everyone to see. Defeat would be just as embarrassing as the Mud villain accident.

"Did you already forget, Kirishima?"– Sero mused, slightly leaning down.– "Bakugou and Todoroki are besties. They won't fight."

"We are not,"– Bakugou purses his lips.

"Oh yeah, what about that UUUUNBELIEVABLE SHOW OF CAMARADERIE?"– Ashido mocks Present Mic's loud voice, abrupt change makes her cough a bit.– "Or did it mean nothing to you? Hit it and quit it, huh? And here I thought you're a gentleman, Bakugou."

"I am, fuck off,"– Bakugou grumbles with no heat, sighing.– "We are not friends. It's called strategy. I didn't want Deku to win, that's all."

"Deku? Oh, right, Midoriya. I always forget you call him that,"– Sero scratches neck, as all of them turn to go to their seats before one-on-one battles start.– "What's up with him anyway?"

Right. They had seen him talking – threatening – to the freak. Bakugou frowns a bit, but it's a new kind for him. It feels soft on his face, his jaw doesn't tense and his chest is not heavy with discomfort and resentment, instead filled with ticklish uncertainty. What exactly he's supposed to answer? That Deku always was a creep but it evolved into something terrifying after he got his quirk? That fucker is obsessed with him? That he was scared of the nerd for most of his life?

"How did you know he'll pull out that crazy move at the end?"– Sero adds and Bakugou internally chides himself for overthinking.

"That bastard is smart even if he's a fucking weirdo. He always pulls some tricky bullshit out of his ass at the worst time possible. So I figured I'll act first."

Bakugou doesn't mention that he wasn't even sure who he was trying to outrun back then, occupied with more pressing matters – breathing and standing upright, for example.

"Damn, Baku-bro, you're a genius,"– Kirishima excitedly gesticulates.– "You're like that dude, u-u-uh, Nightmight!"

"Oh yeah! The dude with future vision!"– Ashido nods.

Blond goes silent, processing the words with confused expression. He knows most of the big time heroes in Japan. Who the fuck is Nightmight? Then it clicks.

"It's Sir Nighteye,"– Bakugou barks out, deeply offended at Kirishima's mistake, the original topic forgotten this instant.– "He was All Might's sidekick, his brains, his strategist! Not as cool as All Might himself, obviously, but mixing up his name with «might» should be fucking illegal. He's a legend, so many people were saved thanks to him, All Might one of them. He has his whole agency of heroes right now too. Not everyone is All Might. What if I call Crimson Riot something like Crimson Might, huh? Would you like that?"

"M-m-m... it's alright if you don't remember it right. You can always ask me!"– Kirishima peacefully replies, not seeing the issue.

"I remember his name, dumbass. I meant that it's rude to speak like you know shit when you don't,"– Bakugou stubbornly explains.– "You're spreading misinformation."

Kirishima hums, sincerely considering Bakugou's words, while Ashido laughs, gently pushing blond in the shoulder.

"Relax, boom-boom,"– Ashido rolls his eyes with a smile.– "I didn't know you're such a nerd."

"Because I'm not."

"Don't worry, Bakugou~,"– Sero grins with exaggeratedly sweet voice.–"We accept you as you are, even if you're annoying hero nerd who argues with strangers on the internet which All Might costume is the best."

Bakugou glares at the taller boy. He doesn't like to be called that. He is not a nerd. Deku is. Bakugou is passionate, invested in the field he's planning to work in. It's different. He doesn't cover his whole room in merchandise like a freak – all of his hero merch is neatly stored and he always makes sure there are only two posters in his room in total, never more. And he doesn't argue which costume is the best! It's obviously Bronze Age one, but if someone thinks otherwise they can stick to their less valid opinion.

He doesn't say it outloud though. Denying is exactly what a nerd would've done. Bakugou clicks his tongue, hiding hands in the pockets of his pants. Before Sero speaks up again Bakugou notices strange look on the boy's face.

"Alright, alright, sorry,"– Sero says to blond's concealed surprise.– "I don't see what's wrong in being a nerd, but you're not one if you say so. I am not even sure what that word means. Is it, like... Geek but annoying?"

"I thought geek is the guy who likes games and nerd is someone who's smart?"– Ashido questions, supporting the topic.

"Then why would you use «nerd» as an insult?"

"Maybe... Hm, I don't know. Normal people hate smart people?"

"Did you just say that anyone who's smart is not normal?"

"You know what I mean!"

Bakugou tries to remain frowning but eventually his scowl turns into a simple pout. On one side there's Kirishima playing with his fingers, lost in thought, on the other there are bickering Ashido and Sero. Is that how having friends feels? Bakugou can't imagine staying nice to someone as loud and angry as him. It's a good thing his friends have low standards, he supposes.

They get to the area reserved for class A and take seats around Kaminari, who had visited Recovery Girl and now felt sleepy, peacefully snoring before they woke him up. Ashido, Kirishima and Sero sit on the next row, while Bakugou hesitantly sits by Kaminari's side. The blond boy was the one to calm him down. And even though he's greatful, who knows what that fucker thinks of Bakugou now?

Fortunately, all that Kaminari says to him is short "hey, man" and then proceeds to nap until the first battle starts. It's a relief for Bakugou. Not an emergency spa trip, but good enough. He can't imagine dealing with extraverts like Ashido and Kirishima right now.

With a deep inhale Bakugou relaxes in his seat. His aching body is buzzing in satisfaction. Red eyes slowly close. Soon he peacefully snores along with Kaminari. Minute later Kaminari's head falls on Bakugou's shoulder which almost causes Kirishima to cry in reverence to the "spirit of manliness" but Ashido wisely puts a hand on his mouth. With her encouragement Sero takes a picture on the phone, wheezing like a kettle throughout the whole process. Other students of class 1-A spare them a glance or a smile – blond looks much more kind when sleeping.

Only Midoriya ignores them. He sits in the furthest row, writing in his notebook and occasionally searching for something in his phone. Ochako, who sits by his side, finds it unnerving that he is not mumbling.

***

He doesn't feel fully comfortable in his own room. The window opposite of his is always open. Green eyes always watch. He is always a show for someone else. He misses times when he could come to his parents' bedroom and crawl under the blanket to sleep under his dad's arm. Dad never told Witch about it, otherwise she would've never stopped making fun of him for this.

He stopped doing so after Masaru got into hospital. But sometimes sleeping in his bedroom felt unbearable. Sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night, heart beating excruciatingly slow, echoing in his skull like drums. Sometimes the room looked too green. In times like this he would sneak into the living room, lie down on the couch or recline back in the armchair with alarm set early, to sneak back into his room before Witch or dad wakes up.

Usually it worked. Sometimes, rarely, it didn't. Sometimes he would be awoken even earlier by a gentle brush and shake on his arm. Sometimes he would get silent understanding smile and a glass of water. Sometimes he would be returned back to his bedroom with a guiding hand on his back. He hated it, hated how much dad kept loving him, hated how gently dad treated him, hated how dad kept trying to give him reassuring touches and failed, because Katsuki had no need in them.

"Bakugou,"– he feels gentle pat on his shoulder.

He hated how much he appreciated those unfinished hugs, hair ruffling and light pats on arms and shoulders.

"Bakugou,"– the voice murmurs, hand brushing his arm.

Why do they still love him, he wonders. There's no way they sincerely do. But why pretend? Because he's their son? Because it's how they were taught to? Because of biology? Because they don't want to be judged by society? Maybe, because he wins. He is useful. He will be useful.

"Ba-ku-gou-u-u... Wake up. Bakugou,"– the voice repeats and Katsuki stirs.

Is he useful to his friends? Not really. How can he be useful to them? They don't need him to win. Or do they? Maybe they like having someone strong around. Like in middle school. Like in junior school. Like in kindergarten. What can he do? He can cook. He will cook today, won't he? Yes, curry. Level three for Kirishima. Daifuku. He doesn't cook them often, but it should be fine. Also takoyaki. Does he even have a pan for takoyaki?

"Bakugou, it's your battle soon, wake up,"– the hand on his shoulder becomes more firm, unusual for his dad.

He never had friends over. Oh. No, he did. He had Midoriya over. Izuku. Deku. They played All Might and David Shield. Heroes. Villains. Izuku was staying for sleepovers. They were watching superhero movies until midnight, giggling and hiding under the blanket every time Witch or Aunt Inko came to check if they're sleeping. They were exchanging cards and figurines. Drawing their own hero costumes.

"Bakugou!"– he shifts this time, blinking, but the hand pulls back, probably waiting for him to wake up by himself.

Bakugou closed his eyes again. Sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night. Sometimes his room felt uncomfortable. Sometimes he found small weak Izuku staring at him. With big green eyes. Big black pupils. Sometimes he had to ignore all this.

Bakugou grunted, reaching with his hand to rub his face. He blinked again, staring with narrowed eyes at grinning Ashido in the next row who turned in her seat to stare at him back. Her eyes are big and remind him of rich black colour of ink in his old calligraphy notebooks.

"Wow, you sleep like a firefighter, man,"– the voice whistles by his side.– "I wish I could ignore everyone like this."

Kaminari looks at him, expecting an answer. He was the one to shake him, not his dad. Good thing Bakugou didn't try to shoo him away. Calling Pikachu "dad" is the last thing he needs.

"I don't usually. I'm a light sleeper,"– Bakugou mutters quietly, his voice slightly hoarse.– "It's probably because of those pills. Do you have water?"

"I think there are bottles in the waiting room. You have to go there now,"– Kaminari pointed at the field below.– "Kirishima is starting his battle right now, your turn's next. He wanted to go down with you but you wouldn't wake up."

"M-m. Mhm. Thanks,"– Bakugou yawns, standing up with a groan and waving them as he goes to the stairs.

Was he dreaming? Bakugou thinks he was. It's hard to remember what about. Something about takoyaki? Probably about dinner then. Does he even have a pan for takoyaki?

"He's so weird today,"– Sero notices, putting his chin on his palm.– "Pick a flavour: angry, chicken hen, dying and crying..."

"So-o-o-o trippy,"– Ashido agrees.– "But at least he looks fine now."

"He does. Maybe sleep did him some good,"– Kaminari nodded and then sighed, looking at Sero with pleading eyes.– "And if you want him to stay like this you should delete that picture. Can you imagine how furious he'll get when he sees it?"

Sero gasps, as if offended.

"Never. You both look so cute on it."

Ashido giggles at Kaminari's prolonged groan.

***

Kirishima easily wins Tsuburaba – Bakugou's forgetful neighbour from B class. Redhead beams at him on his way to the seats, showing thumbs up and wishing luck in excited whsiper. Blond huffs, not bothering to wave or say something back. The empty water bottle flies into the closest trashcan as he proceeds to the ring. He doesn't need luck to win.

Half-Faced is going to be a strong opponent. Strongest, maybe. Among all other classmates he's the only one who was clearly professionally trained to be a hero. There are others with good physique or great skills, but white-and-red bastard is on a whole different level: perfect physical state, high grades in all subjects, strong and versatile quirk and even additional bonus of rich background. People can say all they want about "hardwork is what's important", but hardwork won't help you buy a proper hero suit at the start of your career nor will it pay for collateral damage.

Bakugou stands in the shadow, looking at the field. It's bathing in sunlight, open to the sky and to the hungry eyes of thousands of people. They roar, rather quietly for now, in anticipation of next fight. It's a show for them. Fucking idiots.

He massages his neck, hoping to ease the numbness. Skin gets slightly warmer from friction. He lost a lot of energy on that embarrassing emotional display and, in all honesty, Bakugou should give up the moment he steps up on the stage and retire to the bed. But there's no way he's going to let cameras record that. Internet already thinks of him as a victim of mud villain...

Bakugou inhales, letting fresh air feel his lungs. Breath in, breath out. Who would've thought air can taste so delicious?

Present Mic announces their entrance. Bakugou can't properly register his words, pro-hero's voice too loud and grating. He steps out in the sunlight.

Roaring of the crowd surrounds him from all sides. He stares forward, avoiding the sight of excited faces and wide-opened mouths. Midnight points at the ring and he gets in the middle.

Half-Faced does the same.

They stare at each other. There's no hate, rage, determination, excitement, anticipation or whatever everyone thinks they should have. Only cold and practical acknowledgement: we fight, one wins, the other loses, no hard feelings.

But something's not adding up.

Bakugou clicks his tongue, taking out hands from the pockets – he hadn't noticed when he hid them.

Half-Faced looks just as bad as he does. It's not about his brick-like mug, but about thin layer of ice covering his neck and jaw, about cold puffs of breath and reddened fingers of his right hand. Quirk weakness, obviously. The question is, why haven't he recovered yet?

Bakugou's eye twitches at Present Mic's continuous speech. Why he has to be so damn loud? He can't remember the last round, but Half-Faced definitely had went all out. Continuing to fight in such state is a dumb idea. Not that Bakugou can lecture him, of course – he is just as dumb to do the same thing.

So he stretches his fingers and leans slightly forward. Muscles tense. Sparks crackle in palms.

"STA-A-A-A-A-A-A-ART!"

A single cloud of cold breath.

Trail of ice crawls up and ice spikes shot up from the ground, attempting to cage him.

It's enough to destroy the front to rush forward.

Bakugou roars, vein wiggling in his temple as he raises his palm for explosion.

Crowd roars for a second before world is filled with utter silence, only heart is beating somewhere in the throat.

Explosion meets hastily made ice wall. It breaks into hundreds of shards, flying in all directions and covering the ring in sparkling crystals.

Half-Faced slides to the side, his fist aiming for Bakugou's ribs. Bakugou twists – goosebumps run over his body, reacting to the change of temperature – and answers with a kick.

Second puff of cold breath. Bakugou narrows his eyes, watching Half-Faced step back and go in defence.

More ice chunk fly in his direction, each one blown up. It's hailing, shards falling on his warm shoulders and melting. Bakugou can't hear it, but crowd is so loud he can almost feel them scream. Or maybe it's Present Mic.

Third and fourth puffs. Half-Faced glares at someone on the stadium. Bakugou squeezes his jaws.

"Basta-a-ard!..." – Bakugou lunges forward, propelling himself on weak explosions and driving a punch to Half-Faced's guts.– "Look at me when we fight!"

It feels like Half-Faced puffs out all air he has in his lungs. He urgently creates chunks of ice between them, sharp edges leaving cuts on Bakugou's forearms.

This is ridiculous. What's up with this idiot? Why's he using such big attacks when he's clearly exhausted? Why he's so exhausted in the first place? And most importantly, why is he so disctracted in the fight with him?!

Bakugou sucks air in through his teeth, growling.

Another lunge, another explosion, another defence. A second-degree burn blooms on Half-Faced hand.

Nevertheless, he glares at someone at the stadium.

His heart pumps boiled to the point of bubbling blood. Bakugou breaks through the ice, ignoring pain in the knuckles.

"Don't look away from me!"– he rumbles and bright white feels his eyes before turning red and orange.

Half-Faced is throw to the edge, stopped by the ice. Bakugou can imagine how loudly his frozen uniform crunches. Puffs of air turn into meek trembling lines, rapidly coming out of heaving chest.

Finally, Half-Faced looks at him. But not with determination or at least focus. With disinterest. At him! In a fight! Ridiculous! This guy's unbelievable!

Bakugou seethes, breathing like an angered bull. What is this?! Does this spoiled shitface has no idea how to behave in a real fight?! How to control his quirk?! How to save energy?!

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"– he yells, and while he can't hear himself he can feel soreness with which he speaks.– "Do you want to die?!"

Half-Faced gets back on feet. Sight of him – weakened by his own power, with detachment to his attacks, disinterested in his own condition and this fight – feels Bakugou with indignation. How someone with a quirk this strong can be so irresponsible?

His shoulders ache from impact as he propells himself forward, but now he doesn't put strength to it. Half-Faced barely counters even this. Ice melts on Bakugou's skin, but not on Half-Faced's.

It's frustrating. It's insulting.

"You're fighting with me! Look at me!"– Bakugou growls, reaching for lapels of frozen uniform and throwing Half-Faced over the shoulder.– "Is that how you're planning to fight villains?! Like a fucking pussy?! Like a bitch who can't stand up for himself?!"

Half-Faced looks at Bakugou wide-eyed and blond isn't sure why exactly. Is his face red from anger? Is his voice scary? Did he not expect Bakugou to be able to overpower him without explosions?

"Fight me, Half-Faced bastard!" – Bakugou swings for a punch with sparkles, Half-Faced hastily slides away, stumbling.– "Don't you dare look away from me! I'll rip your face off if you try!"

They don't move for exactly four seconds. Just one. For the crowd it's just a little stop to breath in, meaning nothing. For Bakugou it's everything.

Red eyes stare, waiting for heterochromic eyes to move away. Daring them to pay attention to someone beyond the ring. His knuckles itch to beat the crap out of the boy with no quirk whatsoever.

Half-Faced doesn't look away. He leans a bit forward, preparing to counterattack.

Good.

"Fucking finally,"– Bakugou exhales.

White flashes. He moves with vision, only on trusted sense of direction, average sized explosion rapidly blooming out of his palms.

His movements meet an obstacle. He blasts it to the sky.

In the middle of smoke and vapor Half-Faced's eyes are focused on him. Ice on his face slowly melts away, falling down in droplets. Probably thanks to those meek flicks of fire on his left side. He had no idea Half-Faced could do that.

Good.

Bakugou cracks a sharp wide smile. His upper lip lifts up to show gums.

"Fucking finally!" – he exclaims.

It turns into blur. They meet in a clash, exchanging mostly hand-to-hand combat powered by their quirks for impact.

His jaw stings with frost bite.

Half-Faced lips twitch in pain at bleeding burn on his forearm.

Rumble comes out of Bakugou's chest at a kick to his calf.

Half-Faced bents in half, stumbling at the second explosion-strengthened punch to his side.

Bakugou smiles wider.

His whole body shakes with impact as world goes bright with all tones of orange.

Half-Faced flies out of the ring.

He heavily lands on the ground, making a role, breathing shakily on all fours, head lowered.

Bakugou looks up to the sky. Water droplet slides down his nose. He's not sure if it's melted ice or his sweat.

Sounds come back and vibrations in his bones gain sense.

Crowd is chanting, roaring, whistling.

"-IT WAS! ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FIGHTS I HAD SEEN! BLUE AND ORANGE, ICE AND EXPLOSION! DID YOU ENJOY IT, FOLKS?! SCREAM FOR ME-E-E!"

Crowd scream's in reply.

Someone lifts up his arm.

"Bakugou Katsuki wins!" – exclaims Midnight's voice.

Crowd roars again.

Bakugou makes a deep breath in.

It's fantastic to feel strong again.