Chapter Text
Izuku took a shaky breath as he stood in the hallway, staring at the door to his least favorite class. It wasn’t the subject that made his stomach churn every time he walked through those doors. No, if anything, he found the material fascinating in theory. It was the teacher—their impossibly fast, impossibly quiet way of speaking that left his brain lagging behind every lecture.
He’d survived Hizashi-sensei’s explosive teaching style in other classes, where the sheer volume of his voice made it impossible to zone out. And he had grown to appreciate Aizawa-sensei’s slow, deliberate tone in their more technical subjects and both still offered him help. But this? This was chaos. Words poured out of the teacher’s mouth in a waterfall of low, rapid-fire sentences, and Izuku always felt like he was drowning.
To make matters worse, this was the one class he didn’t have a lifeline. No Ochako sitting beside him, ready to lend her notes with a smile. No Iida leaning over to write a quick summary when he inevitably missed a key point. And, of course, no Todoroki, who was weirdly good at distilling even the most confusing lessons into one-sentence explanations.
He had tried once for a volunteer to take his notes provided by the school or a program but he has yet to hear from them. Haha...get it?
He needed the help, and he knew it, he had been experiencing progressive hearing loss since childhood, now aided by a hearing aid in one ear and his knowledge of sign language was uh, limited. Limited as most his all might edition merch
With another deep sigh, Izuku adjusted his red backpack strap, dragging his sneakers across the polished floor as he entered the classroom. He kept his eyes down, scanning for one small comfort: his seat.
The seat wasn’t assigned, of course—college didn’t work like that—but Izuku had claimed it from the very first day. It was perfect. Close to the window, so he could let his gaze wander outside when the pressure in his chest got too much, but not so close that he was distracted by everything going on outside. It wasn’t in the front row, where the teacher’s gaze bore down on him like a spotlight, but not too far in the back, where it was harder to focus. The placement was ideal, a little haven in the chaos of the class.
But today, someone else was in it.
Not just anyone. Katsuki Bakugo.
Izuku froze in the doorway, his breath catching in his throat. Bakugo wasn’t just sitting in the seat—he was lounging in it, legs stretched out as if the desk belonged to him. His earbuds were in, and he was idly drumming a pencil against the surface, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.
The sight sent a spike of panic straight through Izuku’s chest. Bakugo. Bakugo.
It wasn’t as though Izuku had ever spoken to him directly. He didn’t need to. Bakugo’s reputation spoke for itself. He was the kind of guy who didn’t need to raise his voice to terrify you—his mere presence was enough. The stories alone were enough to make most students give him a wide berth. People whispered about how he had supposedly taken down an entire group of upperclassmen singlehandedly in his first semester. And while Izuku didn’t know how much of that was true (UA was strict about fighting), it was hard to argue with Katsuki’s aura of casual menace.
Izuku’s gaze darted around the room, searching desperately for another open seat. The class was almost full. His heart sank when he spotted the only other available chair: the one right next to his usual spot.
Great. Just great.
Swallowing hard, Izuku forced his legs to move, each step feeling heavier than the last. He sat down, trying to make himself as small as possible. Maybe if he stayed quiet, Katsuki wouldn’t even notice him. He glanced sideways, just for a moment, but Bakugo was still focused on drumming his pencil and bobbing his head slightly to the beat of whatever he was listening to.Not that Izuku could hear what he was listening to at all, but by the looks of the vibration, it was loud...probably
Izuku sighed inwardly, pulling out his All Might notebook and his collection of highlighters. He needed to focus. The teacher was already starting, launching into their usual quiet, rapid-fire explanation of the day’s topic. Izuku gritted his teeth, scribbling furiously in his notebook, but it wasn’t long before the familiar fog of confusion set in.
He bit down on the eraser of his pencil, trying to steady his breathing. The words were slipping through his mental net, one by one. He was missing too much. His spatial deafness wasn’t helping; he could hear the sound of the teacher’s voice, but the words were like an indecipherable blur. He clenched his fists, his writing getting sloppier and sloppier.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Just make it through.
By the time the class ended, Izuku was shaking. Bakugo was gone—probably off to the bathroom, judging by the way his bag was still sitting on the desk—but Izuku didn’t care. He closed his eyes tightly as the headache was spreading. Izuku slammed his notebook shut, hands trembling as he grabbed the closest notebook and shoved it into his backpack. He crammed his supplies into his bag without a second glance, barely registering the scrape of pencils and highlighters as they slid around.
His chest felt tight, his breathing shallow. He needed to get out.
He bolted from the room, his mind racing with frustration and self-loathing.
*
“I don’t know, Izuku. You need to move classes if that teacher does not accommodate you...for whatever reason...feels illegal,” Ochako said, her tone light but concerned. She dipped a fry into a little cup of ketchup and, without missing a beat, popped it into Toga’s mouth. Toga, engrossed in her notes for her biology class, gave a distracted but satisfied hum in response before Ochako grabbed another fry for herself.
Izuku slumped further into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. “I can’t move classes,” he muttered. “That’s the only class for that subject. Nobody else teaches it.”
The five of them were tucked away in a quiet corner of a nearly empty park, their fast food bags spread out on the table between them. The background hum of the nearby city was distant enough that Izuku could 'hear' his friends without having to strain. It was a relief to be somewhere peaceful. After all, peace was a rare commodity when you had friends as lively as Toga.
Izuku had met them during freshman year, and their instant connection had been like finding a missing puzzle piece. Toga wasn’t exactly part of their usual group—she had her own set of friends—but since she’d started dating Ochako, she’d become a semi-regular fixture in their hangouts.
“Seriously, I could talk to the professor for you,” Ochako offered after taking a sip of her drink. “Or, better yet, I could get Toga to—”
“—Nope.” Izuku cut her off quickly, holding up his hands. “Whatever you’re about to suggest, no.”
“Aw, you don’t even know what I was going to say,” Toga chimed in, grinning mischievously. “I’m very persuasive, you know.”
“I think that’s exactly the problem,” Izuku muttered under his breath, earning a giggle from Ochako.
“Maybe we’re overthinking this,” Iida said, adjusting his glasses as he leaned forward. His posture was as rigid as ever, but there was a softness in his expression. “I could stay with you in class to take notes. It’s no trouble, Midoriya. Really.”
Izuku shook his head quickly, his cheeks flushing. “You’re already so busy, Iida. I don’t want to drag you into this.”
“Busy or not, I can—”
“I said I’m fine!” Izuku interrupted, a little louder than he meant to. The group fell silent for a moment. He sighed, shoulders slumping again. “I just… I can manage. Really.”
“If it’s about managing,” Todoroki said, speaking up for the first time, “I could pay for someone to take notes for you. I know someone who does freelance transcription work for students. It’s not a big deal.”
Izuku’s face burned even hotter. “No! I can’t ask you to spend money on something like that.”
“It’s not asking if I’m offering,” Todoroki replied his tone completely even.
"I’ll just… ask someone for notes after class, and if I study hard enough, I’ll pass the tests. Then I’ll never have to think about that class again.”
“Fair,” Ochako said, shrugging, though her expression was still a little concerned. She reached for another fry, then paused. “Wait. Speaking of notes—can I see yours? Maybe I can help organize them or something.”
Izuku hesitated, “Sure,” he mumbled, digging into his backpack. He pulled out his All Might notebook and handed it to her without much ceremony. Then he turned back to his fries, poking at them absently while trying to ignore the growing pit of discomfort in his stomach.
Ochako flipped through the notebook with quick, practiced movements, her brow furrowing almost immediately. Flip, flip, flip. The sound of the pages turning made Toga glance up from her own work.
“Those are really good notes,” Toga commented, her voice genuinely impressed as she leaned over to peek. “Like, way better than mine. Way better than most people’s.”
“Huh?” Izuku turned to look, startled by her words.
Ochako’s brow was deeply furrowed now. She held the notebook up, squinting at the pages like they were some kind of alien artifact. “Izuku…” she said slowly. “What are these?”
Confused, Izuku reached out and took the notebook from her hands. He flipped through it himself, his eyes growing wider with each page. The notes were… immaculate. Everything was clear, concise, and perfectly organized. Diagrams and summaries lined the margins in neat, angular handwriting that wasn’t his.
“What the…?” His voice trailed off as he hurriedly flipped back to the cover.
His breath hitched.
The cover was the same All Might design he’d always used, but it was slightly more worn, with a scratch in the corner he didn’t recognize. His stomach twisted into knots as he read the words written in bold, black marker across the top:
Property of Katsuki Bakugo
Kill him
“No, no, no, no…” Izuku’s voice rose in pitch, his hands trembling as he held the notebook like it might explode. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. I...I have Katsuki's notes"
For a moment, silence settled over the table.
The background hum of the world—the sporadic honk of a car, the soft rustle of leaves from the nearby park (though Izuku couldn’t distinguish those sounds; to him, they all blended together)—felt muted, almost far away,
Toga, now grinning like a Cheshire cat, leaned in closer. “Wait. You mean these perfect, incredible notes are Bakugo’s?”
“Don’t say it like that!” Izuku wailed, his face buried in his hands.
Ochako couldn’t help but laugh, though she tried to stifle it. “You know, this explains so much. I was about to say, I didn’t think you had it in you to be this organized...” She blinks “Wait. Katsuki?!” she said, the disbelief in her voice growing with every syllable. She leaned closer, gripping the table as if she needed physical support to process this. “As in… Katsuki Bakugo? That Katsuki?!”
Toga let out a dramatic gasp, her golden eyes sparkling with amusement. “The same Katsuki who looks like he got in a fight with a tornado and lost?” She leaned back in her seat, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “Oh, this is so good.”
Iida cleared his throat, his brow furrowing as he adjusted his glasses. “Midoriya, do you mean Bakugo, the student who is known for his excessively loud behavior and reported involvement in frequent altercations?”
“Yes!” Ochako burst out, gesturing wildly. “The one who screams his head off about everything! That guy!”
“And isn’t he the one who’s always getting into fights?” Todoroki asked, tilting his head in confusion. His tone was calm, but his words made Izuku’s stomach drop even further. “I’ve heard he’s been suspended more than once. Midoriya, you might want to sleep at my apartment tonight. Just in case.”
Izuku gasped, nearly dropping the notebook. “It’s not that serious! I… I must’ve… swapped notebooks with him during class! I was in such a rush to leave, I didn’t even look—how did I not notice?!”
“Not that serious?” Toga repeated, her tone teasing as she leaned across the table, resting her chin on her hands. “Oh, Izuku, it’s very serious. I mean, look at you—you’re already pale as a ghost just thinking about him finding out. But don’t worry.” Her grin stretched wider, showing off her sharp fangs.
“If he kills you, I’ll buy flowers for your funeral. Red ones. Very dramatic.”
TBC