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Can't Hear the Fireworks of Your Art

Chapter Text


This is when Kirishima learned-

He fucked up.

He knows that compared to others, he's certainly special since he's somehow been miraculously blessed with Bakugou's graces of not being a default kill-target if he ever comes in physical contact with him. But now, with him unable to fixate his gaze for longer than five seconds on the scrunched expression contorting upon Bakugou's face, Kirishima supposes that he might end up dead today, and those said graces Bakugou has granted him, clearly have diminished to the level of soggy waffles.

If he knew he was going to die today, and by Bakugou, he might as well should've agreed to drink an entire redbull stirred with coffee pills Kaminari offered this morning. 

It would've been less painful. 

And it's not like Bakugou didn't give off warning cues to noapproach him- but Kirshima foolishly assumed Bakugou was just being, well, Bakugou, and mindlessly continued chattering with the unresponsive male anyways. And after five minutes of Kirishima complaining about Aizawa who took off ten points of his participation grade for buying two cats off of Craigslist and hid them in his sleeping bag, Bakugou just tilted his head as his only reply, leaning in slightly.

So, he took that as a signal that he's not that bad. So, he continued telling him on how he disgraced Aizawa's sleeping bag, who is practically a person itself and everyone else christened it "Baggy".

Apparently he violated Baggy and it was considered some sort of religious blasphemy of the classroom, and that's how he ended up stuck standing up for the entirety of class. And when he griped of it once, Aizawa, for once not a burrito in his blankets (everyone was surprised he even had legs) glowered at him over his papers with fire in his eyes and just said in a low voice, "then perish", and returned to pretending like there aren't two cats curled on his sleeping bag behind him.

But as they skirted around the corridor with Kirishima talking like he's writing in his diary, he realizes apparently Bakugou wasn't just being Bakugou and was actually in an even sourer mood than usual. Around the corner, Bakugou had whirled around, causing Kirishima to bump into him, while staring blankly at Kirishima, stating: "what." 

At first, Kirishima was pleasantly surprised, since Bakugou is like, allergic, to talking so for him to initiate the conversation when Kirishima hasn't even gestured towards him was heartfelt.

So he repeated how Aizawa looked ready to either kill him or himself, only for Bakugou to echo his previous statement with a shrivel of his nose to indicate obvious confusion (or annoyance, it really goes both ways for him).

Kirishima, by that point, basically has a dramatic anime flashback in his head as he tries to detect if Bakugou was actually conveying annoyance. While Kirishima was trying to catch up to him earlier in the hallways, he did practically pivot on his feet, and ran away, and desperately avoided everyone will making obvious aversion of eye contact, despite his usual tendency to stare at you like he's going to stab you with a pickaxe and initiate a seance if you even glance his way.

So the usual.

At that, he feels assured that he didn't piss off Bakugou, so he continued.

Only for Bakugou to practically snarl out "what", the last time, and Kirishima freezes, as he subconsciously scripts out a will.

"Uh." Kirishima mutters, his skin suddenly damp despite the dryness cracking the back of his throat. "I'm-" he mumbles.

"Speak the fuck up!"



And glancing at him once more, Bakugou's countenance neutral and passive, they share an awkward eye contact (probably only awkward on his part since he felt as if he was being subjected to purgatory at that one moment), before Bakugou departs first, and goes down the stairs. 

Blinking, Kirishima first thought was if he was just hazed like people were in sororities. 

His second thought was if he passed.

At that thought, he bounds beside Bakugou, who as expected, recoils from his presence (he doesn't take it personally, since he knows that the alternate option to scuffing away is punching the obstacle away for Bakugou). "So did I pass?" He chirrups, and Bakugou glances at him once more, and he doesn't seem necessarily angry, but rather, an unreadable expression illustrates his features, and Kirishima's smile falters, because he thought he's gotten used to comprehending Bakugou, who doesn't even bother to hide any of his feelings and rather loves to shove it in others' faces, but apparently not. 

"Kirishima....not now." he grumbles, and Kirishima, not at all affected by Bakugou's need for personal space, leaps back. After all, Bakugou practically inquired him politely, and not with his usual: 'bacK thE fUck Up'.

"Yeah, sure!" Then, hesitating, he steps forward. He's unsure if Bakugou really likes to confide in others, and most likely not considering his need to constantly prove his sense of self-independence, therefore he just glances at the boy's back, before mustering up his courage, even though his instincts are overheating as they desperately send signal to his brain that just won't listenidiot don't test death three times today.

He decides if he can somehow fit three cats comfortably in a sleeping bag, not get tossed out the third floor window by his teacher, and not get his head blown into a mush of bloody oatmeal by a friend, then luck seriously must be on his side, and he might as well see where the line is drawn since when else will he get this lucky?

"Bakugou you seemed seriously out of it today. You good?" He asks curiously, his voice wavering above a whisper so that if Bakugou whips around with murderous intent plastered all over his face, he can just deny everything and blame any sound on the wind.

The boy continues walking, giving no indications of replying or even acknowledging his question. 

 "You weren't here today for class." Aizawa says nonchalantly, because really, he doesn't care, but at the same time, he undeniably does.

Bakugou is glaring at him, but lacks any actual fury behind his narrowed eyes. He's squinting. Contemplating if perhaps Bakugou had eyesight problems, Aizawa wonders if the boy might need spectacles. Bakugou has yet to reply, however, and Aizawa, who really needs to acknowledge his problem so he can deal with the cat hair clinging onto his clothes which he Febreezed just yesterday (and he doesn't really feel like going to the laundry mat) repeats his question, slightly louder.

The boy's lips twitch, his eyes intently plastered onto Aizawa's face in almost a creepy manner. The boy's eyes are desperately flickering over Aizawa's visage, and Aizawa wonders if this is the time to call up Recovery Girl or a mental institute. 

While he knows that Bakugou has a sense of respect for the strong, and he's a genuinely good person despite his obvious personality and attitude issues that have definitely improved over the months (even though Bakugou still has a list of issues, most of them including Midoriya), he still values his pride and need for others to understand why he has his ego over everything. Which concludes to the fact that Bakugou would probably get offended over Aizawa calling the police on him. Because a hero would need to call the authorities. Yep. 

He doesn't get paid enough for this bullshit. 

"Can you repeat that again?" 

Startled by such an odd request, and wondering if Bakugou his attempting to mock him despite his seemingly lackluster tone, Aizawa readjusts his papers that he'll never look at again, and lightly massages his stinging eyes. "Bakugou. I'm very, very, very close to dying right now and I really need to go and scream off the rooftop so can you please not make this hard-"


Aizawa snaps his head up so hard he might as well receive whiplash, but he doesn't retort, yet, he has a sudden urge to commit homicide. He glances at Bakugou, but his emotions filter through his head, leaving behind only curiously.

Bakugou doesn't appear intense as he typically is.


"Bakugou, do you possibly have hearing problems?"


"I said-"

"Can you speak up?" The boy is practically shouting now.


Bakugou glances at Aizawa, retracting his ear, stunned. "This....sounds like a trap." He finally responds.


"....Look, you gotta spea-"

Bakugou jumps back as Aizawa's head plants onto his desk. 

"Midoriya, what'd you do?"

Glancing at her with dilated eyes, the boy glances up with a startled expression. "Uh. What did I do?" He replies meekly.

They all stare at Kirishima. "What? We all know it doesn't matter what we do, it always ends up as Midoriya's fault somehow!" He replies quickly as Uraraka furiously narrows her eyes at him, ready to fight anyone who possibly harmed Midoriya. "I swear, I didn't provoke Bakugou today!"

"Well, if we don't know what made Bakugou angry as usual, then shouldn't we ask him?" Yaoyorozu inquires insouciently, not even glancing up from her book that she's stabilizing on her arm. "I mean. He's actually pretty smart-"

"A smart ass you mean." Kaminari scoffs.

"And I've never seen him skip class." She finishes fluidly, ignoring Kaminari who's now trying his fifth attempt on seeing how many straws he can fit in his mouth without asphyxiating. "'re closest to him. You should ask."

Glancing at the prying eyes, Kirishima figures that he already attempted to cheat death too many times today. 

"Uh. I don't have enough life insurance to answer that." Kirishima replies honestly.

"Probably used it on with those cats and Aizawa." Uraraka mutters from the side.

"What?" Shinsou, who has only recently actually gotten involved with all of them after they all invited him one night to watch that one American movie The Bee Movie that none of them really understands but feels as if it summarizes that country perfectly, is still a bit lost on all of their class' antics.

Kirishima really hasn't noticed Shinsou until last week, when he passed by the boy lounging on the couch. Shinsou was glaring at Mineta who seems to think that because Shinsou happens to be unfairly labeled an outcast (unlike him, who's quite justified), thought that they were somehow on the same boat and ergo, 'acquaintances'.

Shinsou became their 'friend' after Yaoyorozu smacked Mineta for "harassing" Shinsou, and accidentally gave him a concussion and lead to a riot in the dormitories since Iida and Hagakure with their supporters on one side voted to take him down to the nurse's room, while the other side lead by Aoyama and Mina chanted for them to lock him in the washing machine.



Aizawa had to call in the janitor after three hours passed and none of them could open the washing machine.

Bakugou had suggested to activate their quirks, and when Uraraka chided him and stated they could possibly end up committing second-degree murder, Bakugou looked her dead in the eyes and said: "exactly".

That lead to their banishment from that room, enacted by Aizawa, as the janitor started fighting back with Aizawa over the phone that he wasn't paid enough to come down at two in the morning.

Aizawa screamed back into the phone that he wasn't either, but he's still there.


The janitor appeared twelve minutes later.


"So." Mina smirks wolfishly, propping her legs up on the arm of the couch. "Basically-"

"Shhh." Kirishima clears his throat, snapping his hand over her mouth. "Shhhhh." He repeats. "I don't need Shinsou to question my reputation more than he has to."

Kirishima, he's definitely happy in his personality since it's quite simple; if others are happy, he's happy. He likes to at least boil it down to that despite all the other complications along the way. However, he still has retained obvious shame and perhaps doubt planted by excuses suffocating his actions from time to time, and really, he doesn't want Shinsou to believe he's dumb or irresponsible. 

Which means Shinsou can never find out about him purchasing and sneaking in cats into their dorms at four in the morning. 

"Please don't ask." Kirishima says, and everyone stares at him, and they can all see how his eyes are screaming obvious distress, intense humiliation, fear, and probably an intense anime flashback flashing before his eyes. 

"Uh. Okay." Shinsou glances at him before returning to scraping out the rest of the pudding of his cup. 

Then, a loud yet familiar slam of the door that only ever snaps with such intensity when it comes to one classmate, and all of them crane their heads oddly around their position or fall off each other and onto the ground to glance up. 

Yet, to all of their surprise, Aizawa is also there with the expected blond. And Kirishima, smartly realizing that they must be coming for him and that if he's going to be taken away he might as well leave with dignity, jackknifes up and jerks off the couch, accidentally kicking Mina, who was seated near his legs.

But, neither of them even spare a glance at him or acknowledge the sudden pause amongst all of them who are watching the odd pair silently. Rather, both of them enter Bakugou's room, with Bakugou slamming the door shut behind him.

They all glance at each other. 

Then, the door opens once more with Bakugou's signature kick, this time with both of his fists clenched, and then, the teacher and student both leave as silently as they came.


"What just happened?" Shinsou easily summarizes Kaminari's one-noted question.

"Maybe Bakugou is in trouble? Oh, what if he gets transferred?" Midoriya voices his concern. Despite their obvious entwined past that has clear implications of "HATE" in bold letters, Kirishima figures the two childhood friends must've had some implications of care (he thinks). It's hard to truly understand Bakugou, in his personal opinion. He doesn't allow that to cloud his judgement on Bakugou as a kid, though. At that negative thought, he dissuades it, and turns to Todoroki, who is blinking. Despite Todoroki's lack of enthusiasm when it comes to anything Bakugou, he still has yet to imply that he's necessarily not concerned about the blond.

"Nah. Probably just has to make up a test or something." Kirishima says.

"Why would they go into a room together?" Mineta, who's in the corner of the room and absolutely shunned by every female population in this school, suddenly grins. "What if-"


"You didn't let me-"


No one disagrees with Hagakure's answer, or support Mineta.

"Like I said. Let's just ask him when he gets back." Yaoyorozu advises.

They all glance at Kirishima once more.

"I'm suing all of you." Kirishima states dryly. 



Chapter Text

When Bakugou heard the doctor inform him with her indifferent tone that's almost condescending (even though it's probably not, but he's already salty that day from being forced to go for an appointment after telling Aizawa that he couldn't temporarily hear after their previous lesson that required partner fighting with quirks, so fuck her and fuck her voice), Bakugou decides to treat it the same way he treats with everything that gets in his way: step the fuck over it or set it on fire.

However, he's quite aware that he can't just blow up the inevitable fate of him being unable to hear properly for the rest of his everlasting fucking life without hearing aids and even then probably end up completely and irreversibly deaf only to the age of twenty-

But currently, his main concern was the grin plastered across his mother's livid expression that radiates genocide for this entire hospital staff. Also towards the man anxiously twitching his foot beside her. Bakugou is well aware that while his dad definitely the middle ground within the battleground of their house, there's a pretty good chance that his mom will not be the typical, upset mother sobbing that she'll sue the entire hospital, but instead, actually be the one sued for cremating all of them and eating and shitting out their ashes. 

Twenty minutes after Dr. Shitnugget alerted his parents about their "findings", his mother decided to fight her way through the waiting room and then when she reached their door, did some fucked up combo move by deciding that somehow, he was the palpable one (even though technically he supposes he is guilty for ruining his hearing) and asking if this is some shitty ass joke he pulled since it was in his nature to be a little shit while calmly shaking him with a dead look of utter apathy dulling her eyes.

It took approximately ten minutes for him to convince her that no, he was not being a crappy child for once, and that he really will probably end up deaf due to his loudass quirk. 

Which honestly, after the doctor refitted a hearing aid for him, was utterly fucking depressing.

Bakugou wasn't prepared for this shit.

He typically is ready to face any issue that affects him in any way. He understands risks, and he comprehends that being the top hero won't be simple. Even though he's most definitely the greatest and not just due to his quirk- something that he can factually state since he knows that the only way to be the best is through effort, he hasn't expected such an obvious problem to surface, despite all the warning signs.

And he hates it.

He worked so hard already.

He's already aware that yes, he has obvious behavioral problems that spawned from some sense of ego, but the thing is now, he's arrogant not for just having a quirk by default the way he did as a child, but rather, because he fucking worked for bragging rights and hell he's going to use them.

He trains and he learns because he can and will excel in it, and he fucking likes being on top, and he likes the adrenaline from training, and he likes learning new things.

But being deaf will suffocate the capacity for all of those.

Being deaf, means that he cannot be on dangerous grounds. That he lost a fucking sense. And even though he's already introduced and slowly digesting that inevitable fact, that didn't deter his need to become the best, the best fucking hero. 

But he knows that it might change the school's opinion about him. 

So when he got home, he won't say he begged, (because hell to the idea that he's going to beg because he'd rather just force things to listen to him if asking won't work) but he snarled and escaped being killed by his mom once demanding for the idea that the school doesn't learn about his advancing disability. His mom, being the kind and caring soul she is, had mentally decided that rather than having her son killed on the battlefield for not being able to hear, that she was going to mercifully murder him herself.

That ended with him locking himself in the bathroom while his mom banged on the other side, until he guilt tripped her and glued on the fact that the reason why he's growing deaf is also her fault as much as his, since he grew up to her being a screaming hag whose favorite hobby was scaring her husband and cracking their pan onto the counter whenever he tracked mud in the house.

There was a lot more negotiating, tears (because he knows that it's only okay to cry when his mom does because then by default she can't judge him), and hugs that he was pressured into by his mom who threatened to blackmail their new secret out to everyone if he doesn't accept her headlock hug. (He might've clung onto her a bit longer, digging his fingers into her waist like he did when he was a child seconds after sinking into her familiar scent that he could never place. He couldn't find a single laundry detergent that ever smelled like her). 

He finally left home to return to school.

He's thankful that at the very least, Deku's mom didn't step out since she's probably too used to their racket, or else he'd see the sheen tracks left behind from crusted tears on his cheeks. He might have to kill her if that happened (even if he undoubtedly finds himself somewhat afraid of her for raising up someone as genuine[ly annoying] as Deku).

Once he was at school, he ripped out his hearing aid that would be too obvious and visible. He'll find some other way to disguise it, or see if there was such thing as miniature and easy to obscure ones. The doctor did recommend types as well as shit to him, but he wasn't really paying attention because at that moment, he wasn't really panicking, but more like questioning how to avoid the death of his future and glorious career while attempting to prevent his mind from descending into a consistent and unrelenting state of AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. 

However, of course he had to run into Kirishima, who at the very least didn't question his absence in class (or maybe he did, Bakugou doesn't know) and Bakuguo was honestly ready to fight him because really, his presence at that moment was very unwelcomed and the fact that Bakugou is now aware that he really couldn't hear Kirishima as well as he thought, was a constant threat. A reminder.

Bakugou figured that everyone just happened to be really quiet. That he was the only one speaking loudly because everyone else were kind hearted wimps. He received constant notices from everyone around him that he should be quiet, or as more genuine from his mom, to shut up. He just thought everyone wasn't used to anything above light chuckles or lofty conversations.

But when Kirishima chattered flippantly beside him, Bakugou noted that Kirishima definitely wasn't holding back. He shouldn't be whispering, judging by how he's speaking. And when Bakugou tilted his head to try and catch onto his words, they were certainly there, but Bakugou just noticed how soft they were.

How quiet they were. He could still hear Kirishima just fine, it's just. So disconnected. As if he's really not listening to Kirishima there, but it's just a background noise.

How he couldn't hear footsteps fit for kids their age, but rather muffled patters.

How the hell did he never notice? Perhaps he just never had any awareness to it and couldn't compare it to what sound should really be like. He was always surrounded by Present Mic who's shrieking, Kaminari who takes it upon his job to be the most irritating shit ever, and Deku just did his weird fucking ass muttering thing that Bakugou never fucking questioned for its volume since he remembered that even as a kid, it was always under his breath. 

So, Bakugou tried to get Kirishima to talk louder, to see if maybe, his hearing really isn't bad and maybe Kirishima just happened to have....tiny vocals.

It didn't work.


Bakugou left Kirishima with the scalding lump knotting thickly in his throat pulsing.



And now, he's presently in Aizawa's room, wondering why the hell he's even here. Really, he supposes he should've avoided any possibility of communication until he figured out what to do with his hearing aid, but he refused to be behind on anything. Because if he's going to fucking go with this plan of being the constant top, something that he realized that was a lot harder than it was when he was a kid. He was just acknowledged as best because of his quirk back then (and here, he's just defaulted and reset as average, therefore he now has to fight for the top), so he's not going to slack off or use some shit spitting disability become an excuse to.

Aizawa is definitely a lot softer than Kirishima, who was bounding beside him and near his ear, but he could still define distinct words he says. Nice to know his hearing was just as awful but usable as it was for the past who-knows-fucking-years. 

But it got difficult, when some unknown sense that Bakugou doesn't know, that Bakugou never greeted or befriended, strangles around the throbbing parasite of tears that he compressed outside of home in his throat. And as he tries to concentrate on Aizawa's lips, on what's exiting between them, he finds himself unable to concentrate. All the adrenaline, and need to at least prove to himself that he's not fucking useless and that he's not too fucking weak to not just understand some stupid ass words, is what's drowning out Aizawa behind its crashing of panic and fear.

"Can you repeat that again?" The hysteria grows when he realizes that even his own words are slightly dimmed, and it's only fertilized with the realization that he's unable to decide if he can't hear due to his disability, or because he's starting to panic.

Gnashing his teeth, he contorts his face into what he believes is passive.

He doesn't have inner turmoil. He doesn't have an issue that'll prevent him from being the fucking best. He doesn't have a real problem, just a temporary obstacle that he needs to quickly learn how to deal with. Attempting to swallow down the lump of tears bobbing behind the lid of "fuck you" he capped over them, he stuffs his clammy palms into his pockets and prays to the God that he doesn't accidentally ignite his quirk and blow up his pants. Even though he's starting to doubt that God will help him now considering how shitty this day has been.

He narrows his vision onto Aizawa's pursed and chapped lips, that are frowning by now.

"What?" he asks once more, hoping that Aizawa won't find it too weird. He should just ask for his work and go, but he doesn't want to necessarily interrupt Aizawa, who seems already in a pretty crappy mood. Because while Bakugou doesn't really care even though he can sympathize, he doesn't want to end up tossed off the third-floor balcony or sent down to the office and have to deal with another lecture that he most definitely won't be able to understand while in this state of mind. 

Fuck he needs sleep.

And spicy curry.

And new hearing aids.

At that thought, the pad of his calloused thumb strokes against the said technology hidden in his pocket.

It burns as much as his hands could. That his little secret, can be easily compromised with what's in there. Shit he needs to dispose of this evidence. Jesus just the idea of dumping that hearing aid is scaring him like it's idea of hiding a dead body, but at least he's nearly done one of those before, unlike the other.

"Can you speak up?"


Bakugou's ready to repeat "what", but not for the same reason for the ones he did previously. Feeling as if that word is getting too repetitive, he just settles with another synonym for that: "This sounds like a trap."

And then Aizawa returns to his usual muttering.

Sighing, and feeling too scared to even repeat the word 'what' out of irrational yet understandable paranoia that it'll make Aizawa suspicious of why he's doing this, he wonders if he should just leave. Aizawa definitely won't be compassionate towards an obvious liability, and Bakugou knows that he's not well liked, and he's quite aware it's hard to like someone with his personality (but he won't fucking change it for anyone, or at least that's what he tries and tells himself each time he sees others with obvious rejection on their faces at his presence), so making Aizawa possibly angrier than he normally looks probably won't help his case if they do find out about his secret.

He wishes he never entered this classroom. 

"Look you gotta speak up-"

Bakugou recoils as Aizawa smacks his head hard enough for him to fucking imagine what it must sound like, his knotted hair splayed around his head as if to glorify the moment of Bakugou annoying his teacher to death. The fuck. At the very least he thought that must be Deku's destiny not his. "Um. Yeah, hey, Aizawa, what the fuck-" He leans forward to make sure his teacher wasn't just delivered from this world through a cardiac arrest because honestly if anyone's going to die so peacefully, it should be him after what heaven has put him through. And then holy shit it's a sneak attack because Aizawa practically jackknifes up, clamps his freaking hand onto his shoulder with a vice grip, and drags him close to his body slumped over the desk and screams: "ARE YOU DEAF?"

And Bakugou is pleasantly surprised that even over his 'oh shits' taking up his mind quicker than his hatred for everything in this fucking world, he is able to coolly reply with: "no."

The disbelieving countenance that Aizawa sends him was quick enough to unravel his lies, and Bakugou bookmarks this as another event to hate himself over, for being so freaking weak by not even being able to hide a secret for more than an hour in this school. "I'm not!" He snarls defensively, taking temporary relief that does nothing to the flames of wracking nervousness and utter blind hatred that is frazzling his nerves. All those other feelings of doubt, fear and resentfulness has drained from their complex form into a simple one that he can understand: anger and defensiveness. The other emotions are too hard to deal with, takes too much effort to untangle and pull apart, so he might as well just melt it together into a lump of anger that he can understand.

"Shut up!" He snaps, seeing Aizawa's mouth forming words that he cannot understand so if it doesn't work then why the hell don't you just go die why the fuck are you still talking shut the hell up-

And Aizawa is somehow over the desk, and Bakugou realizes that he didn't even notice him do something as obvious as walk around it. Then, he does something else that Bakugou takes a moment to comprehend. Aizawa is grabbing onto his shoulders once more, and Bakugou finds himself instinctively cussing as he retracts and arches his body away, bitter and offended that Aizawa thinks he's incapable of stabilizing himself, that he's apparently unable to concentrate or listen to Aizawa himself without being grabbed onto and that's rude and that's dumb so let go-

Aizawa is holding his hearing aids. When did he get those. 

Bakugou's thumb is frantically searching for a touch, even though it's clearly evident that he won't find his hearing aid in his pocket anymore.

Bakugou stares at the curved pieces of plastic in Aizawa's hand. Bakugou stiffens and he can physically feel the stretch of his sockets that indicate his eyes are most definitely giving away his anger (fear), and he knows his scowl sucked in harshly, that his entire fight has hardened into defense rather than offense. 

"Give those back." He whispers, whispers so that he can't hear the shakiness of his voice, but he's well aware that it must be happening. He can only feel his mouth move. He can see Aizawa react by handing them over. He can feel the hearing aids physically in his hands. But he can't hear his words. And, dejectedly, he adjusts it crudely to fit in his ears, unaccustomed to actually wearing them since he only wore them for a couple hours in his life.

He's able to hear Aizawa and his own breathing, after inserting it. He can hear little things that he's been missing throughout his life, other than his childhood, and even then those memories and ergo acknowledgement of those noises have faded at this age. 


And he can hear Aizawa's voice that sounds normal when he used to think it was gentle despite the acerbic words he'd spit onto them when they're all being idiots.

"We need to inform the school of your disability." Aizawa says.

"What the heckity heck-"

Bakugou instantly freezes, stepping off the chair that he was using in an attempt to add height to himself to intimidate Aizawa in the middle of shouting his argument as to why they shouldn't let the school know of this disability that is possibly life-threatening in his career choices, and why it doesn't matter. Because he's going to die one day anyways so might as well achieve what the fucking hell he wants in his spiraling life, and the thing is, Aizawa was letting him scream.

Aizawa is a no-bullshit kind of guy. Bakugou has theorized this, considering how he literally doesn't hesitate to do an instant verbal kill with his words whenever Present Mic appears, and is ready to fight their entire class (mostly him) when they get rowdy, but he was listening to Bakugou's spiteful and colorful language.

He wasn't threatened by Bakugou's screams and shouts that rip through his very faint verbal filter he barely even had, as he began to sidetrack and simply just revel in being able to release his emotions.

He wasn't screaming or telling him to shut up like his mom, who does mean well, but at the same time is much too stubborn and thinks that that he's being his typical brash and irrationally hard type who thinks his opinion is superior to others (since it usually is, thank you fucking much because he's not dumb, he knows how to make his own decisions in a balance of logic and emotions). She thinks she knows everything, and that she knows more. Which may be true, but he knows what he wants in this case, and if this is his problem, might as well have his own opinions placed first in it. 

And even better, Aizawa wasn't trying to comfort him and thus intervening through his emotions and sealing them up with his own words like his dad, who is too emotionally empathetic that the moment he opens his mouth, Bakugou finds it in himself to close his own out of guilt for burdening him.

He was just listening.

And then Present Mic walks into their supposedly empty classroom and witnessing Bakugou flailing his arms about and screaming (even though Bakugou bets he probably heard it down the hall) at Aizawa who looks deader than usual.

"Oh. Is this. Like some rehearsal for a theater club or something? This looks oddly like a Romeo and Juliet scene I've done before." Present Mic nods in a sage way.

"Get out."

"Right." He salutes to Aizawa.

And Bakugou just realizes what he's fucking done. Because it seriously did felt good to just randomly shout, but he at the very least had enough control to repress the expanding lump of tears because he wasn't that pathetic. He knows he's immature from time to time, but at the very same time, he thought he had enough grasp over himself. 

But he was just screaming at the teacher without rational thought, practically screeching to not be expelled.


He just meant to growl out his reasons as to why they shouldn't head down to All Might, and why he was fine, and probably entwine a lie about how it's temporary hearing loss and just overall fine. But now he's staring at a chair, his jaw screwed shut from what he's done, and staring at the enigmatic expression crossing Aizawa's features. "The school won't expel you for being deaf." Aizawa answers coolly, and Bakugou's locked legs buckle out of intense relief that loosens his strained emotions, and he finds himself wanting to sit down in the chair he's still awkwardly posed on. 

"At least, I don't think so." 

Fuck. He just said it with such certainty earlier to make me feel better, I knew it. 

"We'd never actually have a deaf student who wanted to become a hero before. Or at least, not fully deaf I'm assuming like you'll become." Bakugou grits his teeth, contemplating and analyzing his words for any source of mockery. But Aizawa is just as factual as usual, but this time without a shit-eating grin. "I'm guessing it's not too bad right now however. We can't really have you on an actual dangerous situation with a real villain however, until we process this with the school and figure out how to deal with it."

"Just a hearing aid! Can't this extremely prestigous school not understand the concept of a fucking hearing aid-"

"When you become permanently deaf that won't help you. Right now, you're border-lining it and have extremely hard of hearing from what I suspect."

And Bakugou finds himself staring at Aizawa, his tongue subconsciously sidling over his teeth, mulling over, and Bakugou just snaps his teeth together once more, bolting them tightly to prevent screams from coming out. Because he's beginning to process the fact that his career is not only over, but he won't be able to properly communicate or be a part of the majority of society that his classmates are a part of. Not that he really gives a shit about those people. He's more concerned that his regular life is currently being fucked sideways with a lunchbox, too. 

But his eyesight is functioning properly, and he sees Aizawa's expression sink slightly, obvious pity gentling them. And Bakugou wants to spit in it. Because goddamn does he want pity- enough of it to at least get him through and live as a hero, but he also doesn't want pity because that means admitting that he's been reduced to shit, that this is permanent state.

"Maybe I won't." Bakugou begins, his tongue shriveling at his venomous lie that's injected with so much sourness, that it could be acidic enough to burn through sidewalk. Jesus he's bitter. But he has a reason for it at the very least. "Maybe I won't become permanently deaf."

A silence thicker than the tension of their previous words fills the expansive space of this classroom.

And Bakugou finds himself wishing that he's anywhere but here.

God, if you truly even care about me anymore despite this entire day, please send me from this hell with sleep and a piano crushing me to death and taking Aizawa with me.

"That's a lie, Bakugou, and you know it." Aizawa sighs. 

"You don't know that." he retorts feebly, and Bakugou hates his voice that is now too clear, too obvious to his ears.

"Yeah I do. You're not that subtle about what you know." Aizawa scoffs, and Bakugou lowers his head, something that he berates himself for doing but at the same time, can't help. "I don't know if you will be stopped from pursuing your path as a hero, but I want to say, you arguing and refusing to accept that eventually you'll have to deal with it will. Not only for your future career, but for a regular sense of living."

Bakugou remains mute. He doesn't know how to reply to that without sounding like a bitch in self-denial.

"If we deal with it now, at the very least we have a better chance to get you to stay unlike you being completely deaf. We can act on it too-"

"How?" He snaps spitefully, even though he knows it's unfair how he's leering at the one person who's actually trying to help him the best way they can, but he can't bring enough energy to even care. 

He just wants sleep.

"Me too." And Bakugou realizes he must've said that out loud. "There's a good chance that you could probably learn JSL, but I don't know how useful that'll be if most of your teammates and future partners as a hero will actually know." Aizawa sighs. "The good news, JSL requires more finger patterns that draws out characters, so it'll be easier for others to interpret." He informs, and Bakugou finds instant revulsion to the idea of learning another language that'll be fucking useless at the very least and will emphasize his disability to others. 

"You know. Thinking you're weak or useless with a disability is an insult to other deaf people." 

Bakugou snaps up, baring his teeth viscously as he digests Aizawa's cold statement, paired with his insoucient expression. He barely holds back a swear. "Fuck you!" Oops. "I'm not freaking weak or useless, I'm going to become the best anyways! Like hell being deaf is a problem, if anyone has a problem with it, it's automatically theirs and not mine since I'm doing better than them! They can use it as an excuse to why they suck ass!"

And though Bakugou isn't really sure considering Aizawa's lousy scarf that reminds him how much he wishes he would choke from it is obscuring the majority of his bottom face, he swears that there's a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

Then again, that's Aizawa's signature expression that scares everyone, so really, he guesses there's not much to think from it. 

When Aizawa said that they needed the doctor's notes and official recognition towards Bakugou's disability, that meant they had to head into the dorms where Bakugou stashed his papers at the very bottom of his drawer after deciding that really, it wasn't a smart idea to set them on fire and flush the ashes down the toilet. 

Which meant going through the common room to reach his bedroom.

Where probably everyone he hates mutually is lounging about.

Bakugou does occasionally converse with them, but he can tell through their shifting eyes and posture that they don't really enjoy his presence, and that they're a lot more comfortable with him being his usual, abrasive and socially uncooperative self rather than actually trying to put effort into holding a dumb conversation with their idiotic selves. He gets that. Because that's exactly how he feels about them.

But really, he'd rather not be approached by any of them. But it doesn't help that Aizawa is behind him, to make sure that he doesn't change his mind and actually decide to shred his papers and flush them like Nemo. Aizawa's presence will surely draw attention.

Scowling at the door, he decides that he's a badass bitch and he's not scared of being the center of attention, so he slams open the door to signal anyone inside that yes, he's alive and should be fucking happy about it.

He barely even acknowledges the stunting of words or hissing inhales of surprise from others as he storms in. He doesn't even have to look at them. He's quite used to the befall of silence at his presence from others, and uncomfortable glances that scream they want him gone. 

He vaguely notices that he was able to pick up on their whispering and drastic fade of voices with his hearing aids, however. 

Walking to his room without even sparing a glance over at the couch, he walks in, yanking the door shut after Aizawa, and ignores the dead: "what" coming from someone in the group. 

Ripping over his drawer with excess force (he pretends he doesn't hear Aizawa's snort that's followed with "extra", behind him) and retrieves his crinkled papers that he crumpled earlier out of anger and spite. Curling them in his fist until they're an unnoticeable ball of wrinkles, he walks out, and shuts the door with another bang. He wonders if his hearing aid is in sight. If his papers with the burning secret is caught by others' flickering eyes. If Aizawa who has no real connection with him and probably enjoys the other, happier shitheads are sharing eye glances behind his back.

He can't help but think that he really wish he couldn't hear the other "what" spoken by those assholes so clearly.

He must be having a field trip today, since he's already at another location, sitting on one of Recovery Girl's bed, as Aizawa updates his medical profile with the doctor's papers that they tried to smooth as flat as possible. 

Aizawa must be done with whatever hushed conversation that he stopped trying to listen into as he realizes it's all just informative and factual and known to him, because he walks back to Bakugou. "You're not born deaf, at the very least. So actually, despite what the doctor says, it's....somewhat possible to find a way to reverse hearing loss." 

Bakugou nearly falls off the bed, because holy shit Jesus Christ does exist and Lucifer doesn't hate me-

"Your hearing loss is caused by prolonged exposure to loud noises, but the thing is, there's this gene therapy sort of thing, but it's still being worked on. We can't guarantee that the method will be available by the time you're a hero, but it's the best bet for one...." And Bakugou can tell that there must be something on his face that makes Aizawa regret even bringing up such a useless topic that only wrought false hope, considering Aizawa's pinched expression. "I don't really know much about it, but basically, from what I gathered, your hearing loss is caused by the damage of microscopic hairs in your ear that makes you hear or something, and they don't regrow naturally. And there's a good chance all your explosions were of such high frequency and volume that they damaged some inner part of your ear as well." He finishes. 

"The hell. So basically you're just reaffirming the fact I'm going to go permanently deaf, but just now, with fancier words."

"Yes. Basically. But....we can stop the progression of your hearing loss though." Aizawa continues. And Bakugou, who's already been disappointed way too many fucking times and even just then a couple seconds ago, just arches an eyebrow to indicate he's listening, but definitely not expecting anything good from this world that should just decease already. "That would either you not using your quirk anymore and not even occasionally too much, or we try and protect your ears whenever you use them, and I don't know if ear plugs will help, but they might."

"Using ear plugs on the field is basically just me being deaf, if they're meant to block out something as loud and close to me as my explosions." he replies snidely. "And I can't just keep plugging them back in while battling." Then, recalling the former point Aizawa brought up, he straightens up defensively, and adds coldly, "and I'm not giving up using my quirk at all." 

"Yes. That much was expected. We can help you communicate through sign language however. Koda could probably help you out with that." That naive pacifist? "I know you two aren't close, but we could ask for his assistance if you'd like."

"Yes. Let's learn a language that nobody else will even fucking understand." 

"We'll....figure something out." And Bakugou feels his boiling anger simmer down at the sound of Aizawa's usual assertiveness sound so touchy, and he knows that Aizawa is trying, and really does care about him staying to an extent, and he finds the pressure from fright, trepidation, nervousness and resentfulness towards nothing in particular slowly morph into tears out of gratitude.

But he just attempts a smile instead, towards Aizawa, wondering if his emotions can be conveyed so easily.

And to his surprise, rather than receiving a usual shit-eating grin, there's a comforting pressure on his head that ruffles his hair.

"He was in Recovery Girl's office." 

"Really?" Midoriya gapes, staring anxiously at this newfound information, and begins to mutter. "Kacchan isn't the type to just not go to class because of a simple feeling he was always so stubborn and he gets whatever he wants anyways-"

"Nah. Don't worry. He's probably not dead." Uraraka reassures. "He looked alive at the very least. I was passing by so I don't think he saw me though, but if you want I don't mind bringing it up to him." And God is Uraraka not an icon for putting up with Bakugou's shit and even earned some respect from him. 

Todoroki however, hasn't instigated a jab towards Bakugou in a way to comfort the mumbling broccoli, and instead, has a placid expression on that tightens slightly. "If it's really that bad, then why did he look fine when he came here earlier? And Aizawa was with him too." He muses.

"Well, at least he's not getting expelled." Yaoyorozu shrugs.


Jirou just smacks Kaminari with her book.

"I think if it was really that bad, Aizawa-sensei would inform us." Tsuyu says collectively from the corner, where she and Mina are sharing notes. "Besides, Bakugou-chan is a....reserved type. He won't tell us what's wrong, and will probably get mad at us for trying." She continues, tipping a finger towards her lip to show thoughtfulness. "It'll probably be best to let him be."

"Well. Here's my righteous opinion that rhymes." Kaminari says loudly. "He's a dick! Who gives a shit!"

Jirou is now throttling Kaminari, who's choking out: "kinky." Midoriya, beginning to think that Jirou will actually commit homicide due to Kaminari's comments (or maybe Mineta, who's also close by and a clear target even though he's innocently looking on his computer [he is not being innocent actually]), clears his throat loudly. 

"You're right. Kacchan always never liked to actually talk about his emotions unless if it's about his victories." Midoriya gives out clipped laughs. "So, prodding will just get us in more trouble. We should drop it."

Everyone mutters in agreement, even though the obvious adrenaline coursing through them from curiosity is evident to everyone. 

"Okay. But why would Aizawa be with him." Todoroki speaks out, and everyone who was clearly waiting for some opening to resume their gossiping  discussion out of genuine concern, they jump to conclusions. 

"Shit. What if he's dying?" Kirishima gasps theatrically.

"What?" Tsuyu frowns at that. "I don't think he'd be dying."

"But think about it bro." Kirishima wheezes. "Blasty....we all know that he won't tell us anything. And it's important enough for Aizawa to be dragged in, and he's missed class, something that's like, super strange." 

"Wow. Great. He skipped class like a regular teenager. I thought better of you, Kirishima." Jirou snorts. Nobody really knows where she came from, but considering how she's found purpose in her sadism that benefits them as well, by shutting up Mineta and Kaminari, they're both quite okay with her presence. 

"But....maybe it's progressing. Maybe it's like. Some cancer. Or disease! That'd explain why he's okay now, and maybe they're preparing for the worst-"

"This sounds like some poorly written fanfiction on Deviantart." Jirou continues bluntly.

"Bakubro could be dying!"

"Kirishima, you're panicking. You just used the word 'bro' twice in totally inappropriate situations that I never want to hear coming out of your mouth if you even have a sense of dignity. We're not all Kaminari, we don't have bad taste you know." Jirou doesn't bother to resist her slew of fire.

Shinsou respires loudly from the side. "I really doubt Bakugou is dying."

"Okay, but think about it! Just watch, I'm worried! And he was....super nice to me too earlier." That catches everyone's attention.



"I mean. He tolerates you more than he does with most." Mina states.

"Yeah! He didn't tell me to screw off or that mother nature wants to deck me in the face." Kirishima says with dilated eyes. "Earlier while talking to him, I think I was irritating him," everyone shares empathetic and understanding expressions. They've all felt personally victimized by Regina George Bakugou. "But he kindly asked me to go away." 

"Huh. Maybe he's finally becoming tamer? Like you guys are treating Bakugou like a wild animal, he's extremely clever despite his obliviousness. He just happened to be raised with too much praise," Midoriya grimaces. "I'm not excusing his behavior, I'm just saying that he understands and has emotions too-"

"The way you're describing him makes him sound like a savage reverting back into society, okay." Kaminari says. "We both know that he's pretty much a dick. We can admit that. But....if he is actually being nice, then maybe he really is dying."

"Seriously? Don't tell me you guys are actually following." Jirou sneers.

They all avert eyes.

Because even though really, Kirishima's theory is most definitely a stretch that someone high at three in the morning and on their third pizza and closing in on a food coma would say, it's now been planted in the minds of every person who occupied the lounge that day.


Chapter Text

"Stop acting like he's dying." 

Kaminari hisses at Jirou's comment, which results in a sharp piston of an elbow connected to a closed fist.

Nobody flinches as Kaminari tumbles off the couch.

(He dead).

"No, but like. He's been gone during breaks and lunch too, and Aizawa just picks him up." Kirishima pouts. "What if he's seriously injured? And he hasn't been in class really for the past two days."

Scoffing, Mineta contorts his face into one of 'r-u-sure': "If Bakugou was seriously injured he'd fight his own injury until he beat it." They pause for a moment, before reluctantly agreeing with that through short nods. "If you talk to him about it, he'll probably kill you." He adds. "Also, Jirou, stop bashing Kaminari, I don't think his brain can handle it anymore." He advises dryly, and Jirous scoffs at that statement, seemingly in consensus with that yet unwilling to do anything about it. 

"But....Bakugou has been angrier than usual." Mina pouts, her typical animated attitude drowning with the possibility severity of this situation. 

From the side, Tetsutetsu just clicks his tongue. "He's an asshole. I think he's just doing this out of a random tantrum." Though a couple people within this conversation visibly wince at the crudeness of that statement, nobody directly denies it either. "You shouldn't spend time on somehow who won't spend the same effort on you." 

At the sudden accusation, some actually do retaliate. "That's....pretty harsh. I know he has some issues, but honestly he's not that bad," Midoriya mumbles, and at this, Todoroki just audibly clicks his tongue accompanied with a squint, clearly showing his disapproval for Midoriya supporting someone who always seemingly goes out of his way to blame him for everything. "He's gotten better, at the least." 

"Bakubro isn't too bad...." Kirishima defends weakly. "He's loyal, and he's actually really manly and cool of a guy if you can sort of understand him." Midoriya and Mina murmur an incoherent response in an approving timbre. 

"He's just playing favorites. Just because he's nice to you because you basically appeal to him, doesn't excuse his behavior towards others." Testutestu retorts, clearly bitter that someone he respects is vindicating Bakugou. "Trust me, he's probably not dying, and if he is, then better for us."

"Hey. Bakugou is chill." Jirou snarls, clearly finding his last statement a bit far. "He plays the drums with me." She says with an edge sharper than her bob's. "And stop it. He can probably hear you from here," she adds lowly through grinding teeth, glancing across the dorm public space where Bakugou has actually left his room and stopped being an anti-social loser over the past couple days. He is currently sitting in a typical silence with Sero and playing video games. 

"That's because his attitude is like yours, but you have more empathy." Tetsutetsu replies, almost approvingly, clearly assuming this to be a compliment. Jirou is ready to remove her foot off of Kaminari to attach it to Tetsutetsu's face, but Kaminari seemingly also took offense to his ignorant comment.

"Shut it. Bakugou has his attitude problems, but he's not that bad once you get to know him. You just....gotta get through him." He replies, much to everyone's surprise. It's well known that Kaminari and Bakugou are on relatively friendly terms, but it wouldn't be unexpected for Kaminari to be bitter about Bakugou's rather distasteful attitude either, or to not actively speak out for Bakugou in a way that could put him on unstable grounds with someone as explosive as Tetsutetsu. 

"But he's being even bitchier, skipping class and ignoring all of you guys even more." Tetsutestu leers, and everyone knows it's factual. From the side, Tsuyu croaks disdainfully at such colorful vocabulary. 

Yaoyorozu hesitantly speaks, and from the ground where he's sitting, Todoroki smiles softly in reassurance, despite the obvious doubt that's prominent through her tone. "I mean. I understand why you might find his personality and attitude....unpleasant, but do not discredit his own sense of pride and dignity, especially since it seems to be the only thing he works on." She says, chiding Tetsutetsu and Bakugou at once. "He's intelligent, if you consider his academic grades and his sense of strategy. He wouldn't do something as distasteful as this simply for attention, and he like I said, he's smart. He wouldn't skip class for anything that's unimportant since he finds his career and his future and himself the most important." She says.

Then, almost unwisely, she scorns Tetsutetsu probably due to her disapproval towards his hostility: "besides. You guys act very similarly if you haven't noticed. I'd just say the source of your personalities are different, his is from arrogance, and yours is from rash ignorance."

"What?" He bristles.

"It means 'stupidity'." Yaoyorozu states, even though her entire face has flushed from such a forward insult.  

"Oh my God." Kaminari coughs into the carpet.

"Queen." Jirou murmurs.

"Uh, Tetsu-bro, don't-" Kirishima stands up in unison with Tetsutetsu, who's glowering at Yaoyorozu darkly.

"Savage." Todoroki states, and everyone promptly loses their shit.

"OH MY GOD this fucking memelord-"

"Kaminari if I ever hear the word 'memelord' leave your mouth again I swear to God-"

"HE'S SOCIALLY APT THIS IS NOT A DRILL-" Mina fucking yodels.

"I hate all of you." Uraraka says calmly. As everyone continues their asphyxiated screeching, she realizes that since everyone here is too lost at their friend's enlightenment on extremely stale memes (she doesn't even know anyone else except for Kaminari who uses 'savage', and that's saying a lot by itself), she whistles loudly. "Guys, back to our initial conversation-" she glances back at Bakugou, who's still entranced at pummeling Sero's game character into paste. "I think we can all agree Bakugou has issues especially with relationships." She scoffs. "Don't act like this is new information. But he's a genuine guy, he's honest about how he feels, and he's honest with how he sees others. He wouldn't just do things to get attention like this from people he deemed unworthy in such a crude way- he gets attention by working for it." She states confidently. "Is it crappy, yeah because he rubs it in our faces. But he's not scum." She snaps. "I really do think something's bothering him. Like. He hasn't turned in homework in a couple days, and honestly he finds everything a competition including that. Maybe it's family trouble?"

"No. Trust me. Any family issue is quickly resolved." Midoriya chortles almost happily. "Ah. His family was almost my second family back then. It was a comfortable routine, and everyone in that family was honest and genuine with each other, and typically resolved their issues through brute force or verbal abuse. Every time I stepped into that household," he grins gently. "I feared for my life."

Nobody knows how to respond to that. Mina clears her throat awkwardly.

"Well....okay." Kaminari slowly begins, attempting to dissipate the sudden sense of worry infesting the atmosphere. "So he's being more emotionally responsive in a negative and explosive way, he's....seemingly moodier when he does appear for class, he gets dismissed by Aizawa in the beginning of class to where we can assume is to the nurse, and he seems....tired? Paler? Holy shit wait-" Kaminari's jaw unhinges, his eyes widening. "Oh my chicken strip Jesus-"

"What." Todoroki blinks.

"What?" Mina gapes, leaning in eagerly. 

"Oh my God do you think it's menopause?" He finishes in an awed whisper.

They stare.

"I mean. I guess...he seems a bit....more depressed?" A voice invades the silence.

"I cannot believe you're actually supporting his statement-" Jirou whips around with fire in her eyes towards Mineta who spoke up. 

"I can't believe we thought anything good would come out of someone who uses 'chicken strip Jesus' unironically." Kirishima murmurs. 

"Hey, hey! I mean, he seems angrier than usual as everyone agreed-" Mineta hisses, batting away one of Jirou's plugs.

"Isn't he always?" Hagakure chirrups from the side, and they all blink, attempting to find the source of her voice, but unable to determine where the invisible girl may be. Mineta is thankful for what must be divine intervention since he still has all his limbs. 

"You were in this conversation the entire time?" Midoriya mutters, his eyes expanding. "What. I wonder what else has she heard oh no what if she knows all of our deepest secrets and strangest conversations at two in the morning down here or all of our accidents and mistakes oh no-" Uraraka flicks Midoriya's forehead, sufficiently shutting him up.

" naked?" Jirou gapes, color highlighting her cheeks.

"Bold. I like it." Mina raises her thumb approvingly.  

"Tch. What's the point when you're invisible?" Mineta snorts, and Kaminari chokes against the ground that he's still deceased upon. Jirou narrows her eyes, and from the side, Yaoyorozu dramatically stands up and leaves.

"It's breaktime, I'm invisible, and we broke the laundry machine again." Hagakure responds simply, and at this, they all shrug in unison. "I still feel as if we should tell Aizawa."

Coughing, Kaminari snorts from the ground where he's currently suffocating himself by refusing to remove his face that's planted on the ground. Rolling over limply, he takes a theatrical wheeze, before continuing. "And what? Tell him that the reason why it's broken in the first place is because none of us knew how to use the washing machine without Bakubro's help and we just happened to not know the difference between the dishwasher and the washing machine?"

"Um. Don't drag us down with your stupidity and the consequences of it." Uraraka scoffs. "Iida is dying enough with Aizawa telling him every other classes' complaints on our noise level and physical damage on this school, which must I remind you, is public and is shared by others. I'm pretty sure all of our dead equipment is your fault." She scorns loudly. "Jirou, step on him again." She adds, and Kaminari squeaks when a foot lands on his ribs. 

"Whose fault?" 

Kaminari stops screeching. 

They all stiffen in unison at the sudden and familiar voice, and they glance upright towards Bakugou, who's peering down at them with a particularly uninterested expression. Passive Bakugou. So he didn't hear. They all glance at each other, with half of them showing clear disgust at his uninvited interruption, while the other half are practically beaming since possibly weeks ago Bakugou wouldn't even attempt to hold, much less initiate a conversation with any of them with possibly Kirishima or Kaminari as the exception.

Tetsutestu promptly stands up and leaves, and Bakugou just curls his lips into a sneer in response. "Shut it, you Pomeranian of twinkle toes." The distancing boy snaps, and Bakugou's physical form dies and a ball of wrath, fire, and probably satan takes its place. 

"BLASTY, we were talking about Kaminari being an idiot." Kirishima informs, in a clearly desperate way to distract Bakugou.

Jirou continues, stepping in Bakugou's line of vision (and in consequence, crunching Kaminari's back) to block Tetsutetsu. "Last night, he couldn't figure out the difference between the washing machine and the dishwasher because he was basically in one of his weird quirk-hangovers, even though I don't doubt his normal IQ is low enough to pull this stunt anyways-"

"Fight me."

Jirou plants her free boot with its soles the size of concrete blocks directly onto his shin.

Screaming ensures.

"And so he placed the dishes into the washing-" she continues.

"That was him?" Bakugou intervenes, arching an eyebrow at the kid dead on the ground. "The fuck."

"Okay shut up! Like I'm the dumb one, at least I'm not the one missing class all of a sudden!"

Another scream. 

Jirou digs her heel deeper into his spine, desperately trying to ducktape this friendly little skittleshit of a conversation back into place, as the sudden atmosphere strains tightly, ready to snap and give everyone here a whiplash, courtesy of Bakugou and Kaminari.

Nobody has time to escape, and a little scream actually omits from Mina as Bakugou fucking leaps over the coffee table and yanks Kaminari up by the collar. "You fucking half-assed Lightening McQueen. I can compare my fucking grades to your actual IQ and actually be in double digits unlike your age you Pikachu b-"

"Not doing this today." Mina mutters, standing up and leaving.

"Hold up you goddamn personification of Pepto Bismol, I'll go the fuck after you too-"


"Because you're here and I know you guys were discussing about me earlier!"

A sense of shame stirs within all of them, including Hagakure who isn't even sure if Bakugou is aware of her presence. 

"You too, Deku," he adds spitefully, and Deku doesn't even react with fear, he just gives him an expression with his hand held up and shaking it as if to say 'why tho'.

"If you have shit, say it to my fucking face, but be damn smart about it," he releases Kaminari's collar, and the kid collapses onto the ground, clearly deciding that if he plays dead hopefully Bakugou won't continue to go after him. 

"I'm leaving." He adds excessively, as he shoves aside Tsuyu who had stood up defensively when Bakugou approached, and stomps away.

"As I said." Mineta mutters from the floor. "If he really is sick, he'll fight that sickness himself."

Bakugou is upset. And he hates that because it's different. Because when he's typically upset, he can conform that into a fuel source, a sense of motivation to fight and force his situation into one where he can benefit from it instead, where he won't feel this sensation once more. 

However, this isn't one that he can necessarily designate into his own image. 

Meaning he's powerless in that sort of situation.

He's upset at his ears. At his quirk that used to be the only thing ever he trusted until just days ago when it gave up on him, betrayed him in a sense. He's upset at hearing the others murmur and glance over at him. Even with his hearing aids that Sero asked about, he claimed were wireless earbuds, couldn't necessarily comprehend the exact words spoken by that dysfunctional group. But he can easily identify his names tossed across the conversation. 

He's upset, because he suddenly feels the same way he does whenever he's around Deku.

Deku is someone who exists and he can't detach, can't exterminate from his life, just like his new disorder. It's something that's above his grasp, something that he cannot change and can only just stand there and watch and experience everything- it's the same thing with fucking Deku, with everyone else staring at him, with everyone not understanding everything and at the same time, also himself for not being able to understand everything (not like he'll ever admit that aloud). Because fucking Deku has to see him as someone who's vulnerable, needs saving, without even given the option or choice to fix it and he hates it, because with someone like Deku's personality, they'll never accept rejection, meaning that for his entire life, even now, he has to deal with Deku believing that he's someone good enough to touch Bakugou, and he can't do anything about it. He can't twist or alter this. The same way he can't change everything inevitable and everything happening with others and his own disorder.

Pacing rapidly, he doesn't bother to respond to the creak of the classroom door, figuring that it's Aizawa who's early and actually is well aware of his situation but at the very least knows how to deal with him. (He hates it. He hates it when people are capable of dealing with his attitude because what the hell, doesn't that just mean his personality, his talent, everything he worked for just became insignificant and not impressionable in a certain perspective?) But he wants Aizawa here. Aizawa doesn't look at him with pity, just particular interest, something that really isn't much better, but it's different. It's telling Bakugou that he thinks there's a possible future out of all of this, the same way someone does an experiment and expects results. 

He hates it, but he still wants someone who knows around. 

He waits for Aizawa to say something. 

"Oh. You're early."

Bakugou bristles, pivoting on his feet with his knuckle joints clicking into a fist. Todoroki glances dully at his raised hands, and instead, moodily sits at his desk. 

"Is there something fucking wrong with that?" Bakugou snaps bitterly.

"No. You just haven't been in class for a while."

Resentful as the memory of Kaminari mentioning this in an almost mocking manner resurfaces in his mind, Bakugou stalks forward with a honed glare. "And why does that matter?"

"It doesn't."

And that should be the end of that, however, he hates it. He hates Todoroki, he hates his tone, he hates everything about Todoroki. The way that he speaks almost condescendingly or obliviously innocent that seemingly illustrates Bakugou as immature and brash, which he fucking is, but the thing is he doesn't need Todoroki to highlight his behavior with his own flawed one, and not be equally held accountable as him.

Figuring that he has nothing else to say, Bakugou glowers at him darkly as he heads to his seat on the other side of the classroom, feeling safer as each step away places distance between them.

Because that way the hearing aids that feel much too bulky, feeling much too prominent behind the strands of his hair, seeming much too obvious as a symbol of vulnerability perched on a body part that directly connects with one of his senses that's destined to lose, makes him feel much too exposed. Especially to someone as fucking dense yet intuitive as that Canadian Flag Fucker over there.

"Are you thinking about another nickname for me?"

At this, Bakugou whips around, startled by the random question or even voice since he's pretty sure that Todoroki wants absolutely fucking nothing to do with him out of a sense of mutual understanding.

"Excuse you?"

"You're making that face."

"Why are you watching my face."

"Because you look even madder than usual." Bakugou wonders when people will stop saying that. Like hell he didn't hear that group of idiots mention something similar earlier. "And I know you hate me so-"

"I don't hate you."

Todoroki stops this time, being the one surprised into silence. Bakugou savors in the silence for a second, before panicking and realizing what he said and what it implied.

He doesn't hate Todoroki.

He fucking despises him.

He hates how effortless he does shit, how he looks down on Bakugou and yet is willing to consider Deku as equal- that fucking shittily made asparagus that screwed a piece of broccoli and then decided to be injected with artificial sweetener. Like hell he hasn't been dealing with everyone putting him next to Deku in juxtaposition and then preferring him. He's well aware of his reputation and he gets it- he doesn't fucking care, but after his whole life of Deku, that worthless piece of shit, who seemingly placing himself above Bakugou on his own by thinking that Bakugou needed his help as children, he doesn't need other people to remind him of Deku's obliviousness towards Bakugou's insecurities. 

Not that he has any.

(He just happens to hate it. He hates how Deku thinks he has the power and ability to place himself above Bakugou even when he was once quirkless and valueless, because then where would that place Bakugou?)

"You don't hate me?" Todoroki repeats, his expression numbed, and drawing Bakugou out of his sudden volley of thoughts that he couldn't organize for a moment.

"No. I fucking resent you, you lazy fucking scoop of neapolitan ice cream fucked sideways with a fork."

"Why are all your insults revolving around my hair." Todoroki states, and Bakugou glances at him because honestly did this boy really think his Santa Claus' color palate of a hair isn't going to get a few insults? Thinking that even this dense ass kid can't be that socially inept, he glowers at him for a moment in an attempt to dissuade the false blankness on his features, but Todoroki just blinks. Oh my God he's actually insecure about his hair. Bakugou for some strange reason, doesn't feel like using it to his advantage.

He has more concerns at the moment to be charging up his typical wittiness.

He just wants to sleep. This must be how Aizawa feels like dealing with them every day.

He hates feeling unproductive, but honestly, within these past three days, he's had a deeper sleep than this entire school year. Perhaps it's because his school year was riddled with paranoia from the kidnapping, something that's honestly stupid and fucking dumb from him, but honestly, his entire body shuts down the moment he touches his bed despite his restlessness and unmovable need to work to better himself. It's as if he unconsciously just wants to sleep and be lazy and just put away his problems. It's stupid. And fucking babyish. But he can't prevent his mind from yearning for the unconsciousness of sleep where the problems are temporarily dismissed. 

Staring at Todoroki, he realizes he hasn't responded to him in a while, and just gazed off. 

"You're making that face. But your eyes are glassy. Are you okay?"

Bakugou scowls. "I probably am making whatever face you're thinking, because you're stupid. I'm distracted because you're not fucking worth my whole attention. What's your point?" 

"It's useless to argue with you. You never come to the conclusion that there are other perspectives than your own." 

And Bakugou really wants to reply with an arrogant response that'll only confirm his own awareness towards his self-worth that he fucking earned, but then he hesitates for some undistinguishable reason. 

He hates it. It's almost as if after his talk with Aizawa, after everything, after learning that his entire career and future is slowly dissolving in a concoction as acidic as the bile starting to force its way up in a scalding lump in his throat, he's gotten a hundred percent more conscious, more alert about how others suddenly view him, and that's a hundred percent too many. 

"I'm well aware of perspectives other than my own. I just happen to think mine is better." he replies coolly. 

"I believe that's only supporting my theory."

Bakugou clicks his tongue noisily. He has to end this argument now with himself on top, since it'll be five minutes until their class starts flooding in, and he doesn't want the bell to be chalked up as an excuse to stop their fight without a permanent winner, since that leaves room for possibility of Todoroki feeling smug about it. And fuck that. 

"Why do you hate Midoriya so much?" Todoroki suddenly inquires. 

That question paralyzes Bakugou, and he isn't sure if it's because his nerves have been temporarily disintegrated by the sudden flood of anger and adrenaline that burst through only from hearing that fucking Kermit freckled idiot, but okay, he's ready to fucking fight this kid. 

"I can't tell if it's because you're so insecure that you're scared of someone who tried so hard to help you because you can't get over yourself, or if it's simply because you have a superiority-complex. Judging by the face you're making, it's probably both." Todoroki answers his own statement, and God Bakugou sees red as scarlet as that asshole's hair, because Todoroki is right, but he doesn't get it. He doesn't get that he's not goddamn insecure, but instead, he's just mad that Deku continues to look down on him because he somehow thinks that he is someone useable to Bakugou even though he's worthless, and others just can't see that and-

"You think too much."

His swarming thoughts spawned from anger halts.

"You're smart, Bakugou. Even Iida acknowledges so, but you have a behavior and personality issue- you're too immature to see your issues, to see that you're really not better than everyone else."

And Bakugou wants to smack Todoroki with a fucking desk. Everything that damn asshole says seemingly drenches all his emotions in gasoline, and every glance is like a spark of a lighter, before all his common sense and thoughts are engulfed in flames.

Because Todoroki doesn't understand. 

Because Bakugou knows about his "issue" that really, isn't his problem if other people can't deal.

But he knows about certain bad ideas (not mistakes, because he doesn't do fucking mistakes) he's made throughout his life due to his issue. Maybe as a kid he was better by excusing him by age, but entering this school, he knows how his behavior is taken. And he's angry that Todoroki will even think that Bakugou isn't smart enough to acknowledge that it's fucking ignorant to call himself the best in a school full of other talented and skilled heroes who fought hard for their results. And what this personification of a red velvet cake doesn't seem to comprehend is that Bakugou isn't dumb to call himself "the best" without any support. He worked hard to give himself bragging rights. Admittedly, though he'll never allow anyone (especially Deku) to know, that as a kid he perhaps disregarded the idea of working hard for what he wants since he was practically presented to him alongside his quirk (doesn't mean he still wasn't the best anyways), but now, he knows, and he works to call himself smart, to call himself strong. 

Even if he may not be. 

He just has to work harder if so. 

And he doesn't know how to convey all of this to Todoroki in such a small time frame. Three minutes.

"You're still thinking. But you're not saying anything. I like this better."

And Bakugou opens his mouth. "You think I don't fucking know you dipshit?"

Todoroki angles an eyebrow, and his marred cheekbone jostles the wrinkly scar above it from that movement. "Shut up. Don't think I'm discrediting myself. You don't get it. I know I'm an asshole and I know others don't want to interact with me, and I give them a reason not to. Because being dependent on other people is fucking stupid when you'll never see them again, or when you don't need them. When I'm older, I'll rely on others once they prove myself, but right now, I don't need anyone to reach to the top okay. And secondly, don't ever try and understand the relationship between me and Deku. Because there isn't one." 

That's not what he wanted to come out. But it's the easier thing to say, and his mind picked it. 

He just doesn't want Todoroki to try and invade something that he'll never be able to truly get, because no matter how one looks at it, it'll always look bad on Bakugou's part and if he attempts to explain his childhood behavior, it'll seem like excuses. And honestly, he doesn't know anymore if he dealt with it the best way as a child. And as much as he tries to ease the tightening of his chest as if his lungs collapsed through blaming his behavior on just childhood ignorance, a part of him wonders if he still wouldn't be angry as a teenager, which is an obvious answer judging by his behavior and how everyone practically stays a five foot radius away from him.

"I don't like you." Todoroki concludes.

"Feeling's mutual, Ronald McDonald."


"Nevermind. God you were only fun when you get my clever insults." Bakugou scowls. A silence resides between them, and honestly, it's not a thick silence, a tense one that Bakugou can always identify, and used to always appear between him and every classmate near the beginning of the school year. He's unsure as to when this thin, shallow one that can easily be broken begun to appear within his life.

A hum. "Hey Bakugou." He doesn't dignify it with an answer. (He doesn't stop it with a response.) "What are you listening to?"


"You're wearing ear buds? I'm curious by your musical choices."

Bakugou's spine clicks into a rigid rod, his bones hollow and pumped with cold gelatin. His hearing aids. "U-uh. Chopin." he racks his brain for an artist, and winces at his choices, before deciding that fuck it, whatever he listens to anyways is cool. Besides, a city boy (shitty boy) like Todoroki would most definitely know who Chopin is.




"Oh my God I expect one thing out of you and you can't even fulfill your role as a stereotypical rich boy with a sophisticated background."


"Chopin. Fédéric Chopin."

"I never heard of this metal artist."


"I assumed we would have similar music tastes? Such as metal or rock?"

"I'm." Bakugou nearly chokes on air. "Chopin is a famous musician- extremely popular due to his piano solo pieces?" Bakugou always found the delicate yet intense sound a piano could produce easier to wind through his head and loosen his other thoughts when they clunk and rack his head whether it's from sleep-deprivation or whenever that Pikachu fucker has anything to say. 


"You listen to rock and metal music? I would assume your dad wouldn't-" Bakugou reluctantly screws his jaw tight, because while he doesn't want anyone to think he fucking cares or considers their emotions in any of his actions, he knows that some territories he just shouldn't provoke. Todoroki gives him a look that he can't identify the moment that he awkwardly stopped on the topic of his dad. And Bakugou sorta wants to punch himself in the face (or more so punch Todoroki, but that's a common feeling so it's not even worth noting) since now this fucker's features contorted into a countenance that he can't read and that makes him extremely uncomfortable. "I don't really listen to that stuff."


"Shut it. Classical music is amazing."

"Hm. It just seems so different from your personality." Bakugou gives him an acutely dry expression, knowing that even someone as thick as him should be able to understand it. 

Bakugou rolls his eyes.

"Can you blame me?"

"I'd roll my eyes again but I don't think I can physically strain them even farther."


Bakugou's eyes avert to the clock. 

The bell should ring about now.

"Hey Bakugou."

"What is it shitface."

"Are you really dying?"


"I mean. I really don't think you are judging by how you're still acting the same-"

The bell rings and the students begin piling in before Bakugou can promptly take off Todoroki's head with a chair.

"He's deaf?"

Aizawa gnashes his teeth together, cupping his mug of coffee. Honestly, he sleeps way too much for a man who drinks caffeine. Then again, he drinks so many cups of coffee solely because he leeches the warmth off of the drink to replicate human touch and heat. 

He recalls telling Present Mic that and that man nearly slipped into a coma laughing until he stared for a solid ten seconds at Aizawa's present expression and nearly had a cardiac arrest out of sudden concern for his friend.

It was amazing when Present Mic was almost close to dying.

"That's an issue." Nezu's tone interrupts one of Aizawa's happiest moments that he pulled up in hopes of diverting all of his current emotions about his current ordeal away. "Can he seriously-"

"I mean. If Midoriya was able to become a student here-"

"But he's proven himself. For Bakugou this is a new situation, and unlike previous students who either lived their whole life deaf and are able to make up with it due to experience, he's new at this. And his quirk doesn't make up for a lost human sense. Is he deaf right now?"

Shaking his head, Aizawa grips his mug tighter. "He will be though. He won't take no for an answer, sir." God, sometimes he looks at Bakugou who radiates arrogance that clouds his perception and intuition, and he just. His hands. His hands vibrate and his mind rattles with anger, and he just wants to smack Bakugou-

And then he'd stare at Bakugou once more, flickering over his slouched and disrespectful posture, and remembers he's just a kid. A kid who's most definitely done crappy things, a kid that he sometimes wants to just slap common sense into, and then he realizes if anything he's just like Endeavor if he does that. He'd stare at Bakugou, who has the most intense qualities that forms a hero, yet they're also borderline villainous when combined with his attitude and typically selfish intentions. 

But then his hands would unfurl from its fist as he wonders how many times Bakugou received a comment on his attitude without an actual explanation or resolution for it, how many times someone would tell him he's made to be a villain instead, and then connect that to Bakugou's set goal and stubborn will on being the best hero. Because Bakugou loves to prove people wrong. 

He's just a kid who honestly doesn't half-ass anything and tries his best, and behavior, personality and understanding always comes with maturity, which in turn comes with growth.

So staring at Nezu, he feels an odd coldness that combats and overcomes the warmth from his coffee floods through his chest, freezing him from the inside like glaciers melting from his heart and invading his bloodstream. He realizes that despite how disrespectful Bakugou may be, he doesn't want this kid expelled (even though he certainly thought of it, especially after walking into the classroom once and seeing Bakugou eating someone's fucking sandal to prove that he can do anything. Stopping Bakugou from doing what he wants is basically trying to stop a cat from eating plastic), and he's growing way too attached to Bakugou's possible behavioral development. 

Not to Bakugou himself though.

He already labeled him as "highkey suicidal" since he's stubborn to that point. 

"Sir, Bakugou is a hardworking student. He'll fight for this, trust me, he can work his way through this."

"How. We'll be endangering a student if he doesn't pull through, and we end up with this liability if he ends up hurt because of it. And imagine the press, and the reporters, and the reputation of this school as well when they learned we put a student's life in our line of work."

"Sir. We're a hero school. I'm pretty sure everyone's pretty well aware that anyone can die. I mean, this kid got kidnapped-"

"And we were all over the news when that happened. They ate it up."

Aizawa doesn't have an appropriate response that doesn't require swearing because he's too goddamn tired to deal with this and fucking Bakugou the damn problem child- he just doesn't have enough energy or honestly enough shits to give to deal with this. But I'm still here, aren't I? Aizawa promptly decides a detention is in order, and if Bakugou claims he did nothing wrong (which honestly, right now would be true) he's just going to bring up his godamn attitude and Bakugou has to fucking deal with it because shit he needs more coffee someone end him-

"Aizawa. I can practically see your thoughts on your face."


"Your eyes are screaming the desperation for release from this world by sleep and caffeine overdose."



"Please stop smiling like that. Aizawa, your kid is deaf." He continues to grin because he doesn't have enough energy to change it by this point. "Ah. That murderous expression of yours. Anyways, does your kid's parents know about this issue yet?"

"Yes. And please stop referring to Bakugou as my kid. If he really was I would've disowned him by this point."

Nezu gives him a look, and honestly by this point Aizawa has blurred the line of professionalism between all of his coworkers and even his boss, but he takes this into consideration that Nezu is still rather protective of this entire student body and school's reputation even though he literally admitted to human experimentation in the past- but okay, it's none of HIS business.

"If Bakugou's...disability gets in the way, I'm sorry but he can no longer attend this school."

Aizawa trusts Bakugou's abilities, he trusts his mindset.

He doesn't trust fate, circumstance, and Bakugou's compulsiveness however. Bakugou's skewed perspective that causes a lot of his mannerism and attitude issues is also a variable to consider.

He knows Nezu isn't cruel enough to fire him if Bakugou does eventually fuck things up (he cannot deny that he firmly believes in the 'eventually' part, he just hopes that the consequence of it will not be so heavy), but it'll certainly burden his trustworthiness, and cause a lot of future business complications.

"I understand, sir."

"Great. Call Bakugou up to talk to him, and we'll also have to assign classes for him to find another way of communication and sensing since we can't have hearing aids as our main and only source of communication and when he doesn't have hearing to back him up." Nezu sighs. "Ring up his parents too."

Aizawa flinches.

Aizawa doesn't flinch. 

But then he recalls Bakugou Mitsuki, and he's able to kill villains without reluctance (probably because of pent up anger of dealing with his goddamn children) but every time he sees Mitsuki he feels as if she's peering straight into his soul and he can't help but recoil slightly. Nice to see where a middle-aged mother ranks on his list.

"I know." Nezu nods gravely, clearly noticing his slightly altered look of death that probably just seems deader. "Oh, and....also, I'm getting notified by Midnight made some strange orders online?"

"Uh. The cats are living in my apartment though so I'm not breaking any school regulations-"


Bakugou doesn't like hearing aids.

They're a symbol of vulnerability and weakness, showing that there's something he can never achieve organically even though everyone else can easily obtain it naturally and without help. He hates it. He actually considers asking Jirou to alter them slightly to appear smaller and less noticeable or perhaps disguise them as earbuds, but that'd mean asking for help from someone he barely talks to (but gets along better with than others) and confiding this secret.

He'd rather goddamn die.

He also doesn't like the sudden life-intervention that he doesn't need, and he doesn't want. And he's even more pissed that Aizawa is currently on the phone with his parents (he can hear his mom over the receiver screeching 'what'd that brat do'), and sense Principal Nezu's obvious hesitance at her voice that's louder than the conversation he's attempting to hold with him at the moment.

"You cannot take off your hearing aids during class, since Aizawa cannot spend his entire time writing everything on the board. There are some parts where his back is to you." They already discussed this, and Bakugou had to reluctantly admit that whenever Aizawa's back is to them and facing the board, he cannot comprehend his words in its muffled state, and it's obvious that the quality will just get worse from here. "Unless if you read lips, which we're also beginning to consider a course for you, there's nothing we can do. Even so, his back will still be turned to you and you won't be able to read his expression or others' all the time if not given the opportunity."

Bakugou scoffs and averts his gaze from Principal Nezu's beady ones. They're unnerving and glittering sadism. He hates being stared at, being considered as a curious incident, as an experiment, something to test hypothesis and paths on to see how they conclude for data. Because he's pretty sure there isn't another student like him.

"You also have to remain the top of your grades, as well as the courses or assignments we're still planning out to give to you to try and develop new abilities for you to gain aother pairs of senses until they can efficiently replace your hearing."


"So we need a helper in your class." 

Bakugou gazes at him wide, and an insult curdles sourly on his tongue, held back out of respect for authority. "I don't need a damn helper." He clenches out in clipped words. He distantly hears his mother's shout ceases as Aizawa return to standing next to Principal Nezu's desk, a phone in hand. "I don't. I'm not stupid-" I'm not weak "I can figure this out on myself-"

"Bakugou." Aizawa's steely voice slices Bakugou's sentence short. "You should be grateful we're even considering this. Don't push your luck." He expounds firmly. And Bakugou, already angry by being treated childishly by others who are probably thinking he's weak or lazy from skipping class even though for the past two days he was visiting an actual hospital, doesn't need the one person he currently has to rely on without a given choice to treat him as disposable.

Aizawa's mood has plummeted after Bakugou told him about the conclusion to his hospital visits. Apparently they needed to check his quirk to see if there's a possible self-defense within it that'd naturally evolve to help his hearing (since mother nature would be damn stupid to make something destructive to its own host). They found nothing.

It's like mother nature half-assed one of her projects and decided to turn it in anyways.

And Bakugou isn't afraid of rejection, but after he confided in Aizawa about it, the old wheezer has been paying less emotional attention to him (not that it really matters) and it's a bit annoying since to Bakugou, he can easily interpret it as Aizawa gradually giving up on him.

Dammit mother nature.

"Yes sir." He spits out, refusing to clap eyes with Aizawa's. He doesn't care or want to care about what he might see in them.

"Great. Who do you want as a helper? We can assign one either."

"Please avoid from choosing Yaoyorozu or Iida- they're already dealing with their duties as class presidents." Aizawa adds. "Be sure to pick a good choice, Bakugou, since you have to depend on them for your grade." And Bakugou feels blood rush through his nape as his body arches defensively, because he can bet that there's a smirk on that smug dickwad's face. 

Bakugou considers asking for Tsunagu's help- he may not be a student, but most likely he could easily collect notes for him. But then remembers how that fucker touched his hair, and decided that he'd rather die before allowing that tall-ass freak to even think that Bakugou considered him a possible option. 

Kirishima or Mina are the next options, but knowing how he always ends up being the one to help them there's no way he'll even maintain the same grades with their notes.

Tokoyami? Bakugou respects that weird Hello Kitty character of a mutant, but he barely even talks to him. 


He can live with her as an option. But that means she'll wonder why I need extra help writing notes. And if she starts discussing that with everyone in class? 

Bakugou grinds his teeth. He can tolerate Round Face. But she might unintentionally cause more problems even though she's starting to look like a better candidate than others. 

Jirou is the best option at the moment.

"Can I request for Jirou?"

"Jirou is smart, but she barely writes down her own notes Bakugou, she's usually listening to music therefore she doesn't pay attention in class much." Aizawa cuts in. "But you can still ask for her."

And dammit, he likes that hag because she's probably the only person who literally doesn't give a flying fuck. But he's not risking his grade, because he's not being kicked out of this fucking school he's gotten this hard and he worked this hard he's gotten in this isn't fair-


Aizawa blinks.

"Todoroki Shouto? It's to my knowledge Bakugou that you two do not get along-"

"I know." He grits out. 

And he hates it. Because he hates Todoroki as well. However, while that kid is socially inapt, he keeps his mouth shut. As long as he doesn't spill to goddamn Deku, it'll be fine, he'll make sure to tell Aizawa to prevent that possibility. Todoroki follows the majority of the rules, meaning that if he has a issue with it, he wont' turn to others for help, he'll confront it so at least Bakugou can deal with it himself. 

"Are you sure?"


"I'll be sure to inform Todoroki. I'll be sure to tell him to not tell others about this....assignment."

Bakugou grunts.

"Great. So we got that out of the way...." Nezu mutters. "And for now, Bakugou, you will not participate in any of the class training activities unless if you wear your earbuds, and if possible, hearing aids-" And while Bakugou also despises that because he doesn't want to grow fucking dependent on something that's not himself, something that can break, he knows the rationality of that. "For now, we're actually assigning help from a student, Mei Hatsume, in an attempt to see if there's a way to create pressure sensitivity gadgets for you to sense sound vibrations." 

Bakugou has no idea who the fuck Hatsume is, but to be honest, he still doesn't know half of the people in his class, and he doesn't know who that kid who looks oddly like Aizawa but with purple hair who constantly hangs around Uraraka and Deku is. 

But Bakugou doesn't like this.

He doesn't want gadgets or anything that isn't organic and can't be a part of his body with its own natural protection. Because machines break, wear out over time, and rust. It makes him vulnerable. Even worse, when it's trying to replace an actual sense- a body part he can get down with more, but a sense, something that you can never truly replicate or upgrade, is sketchy as fuck. 

But really, what can you do?

And Bakugou screws his jaw tight, as he nods. "I understand." 

Chapter Text

"Write notes for Bakugou, please."

And that was it.

No follow up explanation except for: "keep this to yourself, as well. This is a serious matter, and unless if you want to deal with Bakugou if you do relay your task to others- not to mention the fact that it could cause serious issues for the teacher and student body as well, I suggest you do not bring this up to Midoriya." 

It's slightly sad, if not amusing, that Aizawa specifically called out Midoriya despite everyone else in their class.

And so, Todoroki, deciding that he'll confront Bakugou about this later, opens his notebook to rip out another sheet of paper. However, it's curious. He peers over at Bakugou, who's sitting at his desk today after bursting in this morning with his typical feral snarl, clearly challenging anyone to even think about his absence for the past couple days, before dumping himself onto his chair that was eerily empty two days ago, and propping his feet up onto his desk where he flippantly dropped his bag. 

Bakugou is clearly in class today, even jotting down notes of his own lazily (but Todoroki knows better than to judge by his posture that Bakugou isn't paying attention since his grades always say otherwise).

Todoroki wonders if Bakugou is even aware that he's selected to write notes for him- most likely not since Bakugou is actually allergic to him (breaks out in hive, suffocates, and nearly dies, all the common symptons). Also, Bakugou absolutely cannot receive help from others due to his fatal and severe condition called egotism. But okay.

Dutifully scrawling out notes (no point in making it neat to someone who probably will just recopy them down to his own sense of perfection, besides, he doesn't want Bakugou to think he actually attempted to do anything for him on his own violation) he glances at Bakugou again. With all this talk about Bakugou 'dying' (then again Kirishima always cries during the ending of The Wolf Children and that American movie Fast and Furious due to the main characters' amazing 'bromance', so really his theory about Bakugou having a terminal illness is probably due to being overemotional fueled by sugar), the fact that Aizawa is suddenly asking for favors for someone like Bakugou is pretty sketchy. 

Because isn't Bakugou fine right now? He's here, and though he skipped a couple days of class he doesn't doubt that Bakugou has probably visited class afterwards to catch up, considering how Bakugou just can't be behind on anything. 

He glances at the board, and listening to Aizawa's droning, he scribbles that down too. 

And earlier, with the conversation he held with Bakugou, there was something different too. He spoke rather than shout, which in turn affected his expression. Whenever he shouted his countenance was always screwed in annoyance as he squinted, always challenging them to speak louder to weight out his own volume spawned from his crude behavior. But that day, he seemed almost passive, as in he didn't look as if he wanted to bite off someone's hand because everyone knows Bakugou's behavior resembles a rabid fox. And there was the emotional aspect he detected that day from Bakugou, and frankly, Todoroki doesn't even want to be a part of. It was as if Bakugou had so much to say but too little time, and honestly, Todoroki bets he didn't even want to share it.

It was as if Bakugou's afraid if he gave too little information due to their time shortage, Todoroki would gain some misinterpretation, so he chooses not to say it at all, because Bakugou's the type of person who'd hate it if anyone thought something (especially if it regards him himself) and it didn't follow his own perspective. It's most likely due to arrogance or just insecurity. But he's pretty sure it's the former because Bakugou is the type of person who probably doesn't even believe in the word 'insecurity' whether or not it exists, because if there's one thing about that kid that Todoroki can easily believe in, is that he's a coward. Bakugou Katsuki is a coward who cannot deal with something that's simply unmovable and stands in his way, therefore if avoiding or blowing it up isn't an option, he decides that it's all of a sudden dead to him. 

Therefore, if Bakugou does have insecurities big enough to actually support his ego (what a lot of people seem to forget is that a person can be both arrogant and insecure, just in different aspects of themselves), then he won't ever acknowledge them, because he's a coward.

Todoroki's hand stills, his pencil marking the paper lightly at the sudden movement. Because he's analyzing Bakugou, and for some reason, he feels as if he's right. And he's well aware that he's mostly oblivious and lacks an intuition, according to Bakugou and even implied by Midoriya. Therefore, why does he seem to fathom Bakugou's behavior?

He's not sure where this understanding of Bakugou's situation came from, but deep down, he's quite aware of his similarities with Bakugou, meaning he has enough self-awareness of his behavior to be able to identify it in others. And he hates it, because in a way, it makes him have to perceive Bakugou from perspectives other than the one that's obvious due to his rash behavior and seemingly brutish and bully-like personality. And honestly he doesn't know if Bakugou deserves the treatment of viewing otherwise considering the said attitude.

At that, he knots his lips and glances back at Aizawa, refusing to look over at Bakugou again.

Because he has no interest in someone like him. 

Because someone like him doesn't deserve his interest.

Bakugou fakes it till he makes it, and he's going to fucking fake it till he fucking makes it.

"Bakugou, you aren't allowed to fight until we determined a way for you to sense things without hearing aids. If your hearing aids aren't tuned to match your volume needs, or if they malfunctioned, it could cause further damage to your ears." Bakugou contorts his face. "Stop it." Aizawa scorns, and Bakugou had to resist molding his face into an even more animalistic sneer. "God I hate being a damn teacher." he utters, and Bakugou raises his eyebrows at that because Aizawa somehow still remains within his strict borders of professionalism even though they receive more indirect death threats from him than actual villains. "I can't swear in front of students."

Bakugou snorts, and Aizawa just sighs, though there's no real misery within his timbre (for once). "You're a lucky brat, you know. Being able to swear excessively to the point where you don't even use the words properly anymore and they're not even real words."

"I shitting know, right?"

Aizawa shoots him a dry look. 

"Anyways, what do you mean I can't fucking fight, don't I have to use my quirk at one point in my life? Can't I just not wear a hearing aid?" Bakugou snarls. He hasn't used his quirk ever since he received the rather life-shattering news (but he's a bad bitch who doesn't fuck with emotions, so he'll ignore the 'life-shattering' part until he can't, but that 'can't' isn't now, so), and they're training with quirks today, and he wants to explode something

Because he's currently balanced on a tense tightrope, and if he's too unstable, his entire future, career, reputation, life, and just mindset in general will topple over all at once. And all of those goals requires his quirk to succeed and keep balanced. But his quirk is the thing that could tilt him over too far at one point. He can't advance without his quirk, but it could easily stab him in the back, which would fucking hurt.

He needs to prove that he can still use his quirk right now without hesitation. Because fuck otherwise.

"Bakugou, you can't not use your hearing aid. If it was just combat without quirks I'd allow it, but it's not, so too bad and shut it, Brat." 

It's lowkey unsettling how Aizawa has fallen so easily into christening him 'Brat', which Bakugou realized that while Aizawa doesn't mind referring to everyone in his class so, he seems to love that particular label on Bakugou. 


Aizawa looks up from his clipboard, and inhales sharply, before rounding to Bakugou with his dead fish eyes. "Listen up, you little Hellion. I'm trying to make sure you don't grow into a habit of ruining your hearing-"

"It'll be ruined anyways! There's no way to stop it, gradual or quick!" Bakugou hisses, careful to keep his voice low. He glances around the gym where everyone's stretching to reassure himself that no one's eavesdropping. And it's true, since nobody is paying attention. Most likely if he wasn't arguing with someone they'd find it a curious and probably a nightmarish incident where the Twilight Zone is taking place. "There's no point! Besides, even before I knew for sure my hearing was getting bad, I still fought! I just strained my hearing over the explosions and...and I think I also grew used to the muffled noise." he grits his teeth, realizing he's mumbling and Bakugou Katsuki doesn't fucking mumble like a wobbly, freckled nerd. "It didn't matter just a week ago when you guys didn't know about my condition, I still fought and used my quirk even when I couldn't even hear my opponent's footsteps! And anyways, my hearing's gradual fucking failure is not going to stop no matter how many times you prevent me from training, all you're doing is cutting back on my process on learning how to do shit without my hearing aids as well as my regular training!"

Aizawa sighs once more. "Idio- Bakugou. Look. I get it, but the problem is we want to find a way to preserve your hearing."

"That's impossible." 

Aizawa stares at him hard and long. 

"We want to see if you can get a cochlear implant."

Bakugou blinks.

"We need to see if you're suitable for it however, and that could be a long process depending on your cooperation for one-" Bakugou catches himself from sticking out his tongue because that's just weird since the last and only times he's ever done that in a debate was with his mom, and comparing his mom with Aizawa gives him a sense of discomfort because they both share their most prominent and noticeable qualities: being 90% done with his shit, being 10% frustrated at everything, and not hesitating to fight him. "Meaning when you take a psychological test to see if you're suitable- hey stop rolling your eyes. Brat, listen up." Bakugou spitefully looks away, and Aizawa continues without reacting. "Lying is bad. We're heroes, so we shouldn't lie, and you should always stay true to yourself. However, I'm saying when you do see a therapist, do not be yourself, in fact, just be Midoriya, just be everyone except for you, and now, once again, lying is always bad, but then again, your attitude is worse than lying, so I'm telling you to lie about everything, especially your murderous tendencies."

"I don't have murderous tendencies you old dishrag-"

"See, you're already doing great. Keep it up." Aizawa stunts his growl with this flat response.

Wrong: there was one prominent difference between Aizawa and his mom that by default overrules every similarity- if this was his mom he would square the hell up and grab a pot as a shield and fight her right now. For now, he'll just beat up Aizawa in his head. 

"So for a cochlear implant, we also need to make sure you're physically healthy-"

"I'm deaf."

"Shut up. You need to be physically healthy as I was saying, and we cannot risk you being stupidly injured because you can't control your raging hormones of needing to be an angsty teen-"

"Aren't you supposed to be a teacher."

"And if you do get hurt most likely you'll be mentally angry and blame this all on Midoriya somehow-"

"Cool, cool. So I guess we're just gonna ignore your professional boundaries."

"Therefore, no, you cannot fight."

"Okay. But here's an idea. I don't get hurt especially by all these weaklings-" he jabs a thumb over at the other kids who are chirping away like friends even though in approximately two minutes they'll start tearing each other apart like savages. "And I win by beating everyone."

"Stop grinning like that- see this is why you cannot be like yourself in front of the psychologist or else you'll be automatically labeled as a future murderer with anger issues and possible psychotic tendencies."

"Fuck off old man."

"Shut up you disrespectful hellion with insecurity and hair issues-"

Lowblow, and Bakugou honestly would fight his teacher, but he's also not stupid and knows that he'll end up mentally dead despite physically functioning. 

"What insecurities?" He roars.

Aizawa doesn't even look up from his clipboard where he's taking attendance. "Hm. Difference between you and Midoriya and actually everyone else, is that he's diffident, your default response however is anger, demonic ritual through that anger, and explosions from that anger." He mumbles.

And Bakugou, though he is most definitely not enjoying this random argument he's holding with his teacher because that's damn weird and much too intimate since it's starting to make him feel goddamn homesick and he hates it since he knows that if his mom ever hears this she'll actually put him in a headlock and disguise her strangulation as a "hug": is starting to feel irritated.

Because while he's starting to feel elated by this 'cochlear' shit, he also doesn't know what it actually is, and he knows it's guaranteed to not permanently restore his hearing and keep it that way. So really, he might as well ruin his hearing as much as possible rather than preserve it delicately despite its inevitable downfall. Attempting to salvage something destined to expire will just drag down on his training and practice, something that he's practically dying to do because fuck if he doesn't want to ravage the entire playing field and stop this weird, sticky and horrible feeling curdling in his stomach. Fighting distracts him. Feeling powerful will demolish whatever this emotion that's stewing and crawling up his throat in a lump of weak ass tears may be. 

He needs to be out there.

"Bakugou. Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're about to actually die if you don't go out there." 

"I will."

"It takes that much to off you?" Aizawa murmurs, and Bakugou, thinking that he's going to try and poke around and call him weak, defensively bristles his hunched form. "God I should just not let you out today, that'll make my life so much easier."

Ah. Another indirect death threat. "If I'm going to die if I don't go on, then news flash, why does it matter if I get injured if I do go on?"

"Because you need to be physically healthy for you to receive a cochlear implant. It's one of the most important things we're riding on." And Bakugou's need falters in the face of this other need. Then, Aizawa slowly looks over. 

"I won't get hurt."

"I know."

Bakugou narrows his eyes, because what sort of shit logic is that? "Aizawa. Please." And Bakugou recoils slightly as Aizawa's clipboard actually clatters onto the floor, and that damn bastardfinally stares at him with fixated attention and a disgusted expression. "What the hell are you looking at?" Bakugou frowns, miffed.

"Did you say 'please'?"

Bakugou short circuits. Attempting to not look frantic, he wonders if he could run up to his classmates and pretend to join them rather than face Aizawa's shit-eating grin that's bound to happen. "No, you heard fucking wrong you fucking fuck-"

"Fine you can fight."

Bakugou short circuits again.

"If you get injured, it'll most likely be bruises or a burn of some sort, nothing that'll affect your cochlear implant. And though wearing your hearing aid can amplify your explosions, if it's tuned correctly, then it the volume shouldn't damage your hearing. However....I'm unsure if it's safe to let you go. Brat, do you feel as if your hearing is too loud?"

Bakugou takes a moment to reel over this question seriously rather than compulsively saying 'yes' to get it over with as usual. "Uh. How the hell am I supposed to know? Everything feels loud?" It's true. The first days he wore a hearing aid (approximately five days ago) everything felt fucking strange. Too magnified, too rattling, too much. He could hear the faint whistle from outside, the rustling of paper, the smallest things that he didn't even know he was supposed to hear at a normal volume. 

And then everything seemed too sharp. The screech of a desk made him wince the first time he heard it, since he expected a soft and dull scrape. A shout shouldn't be blurry and soft around the edges, it was jarring and unsettling.

When he heard himself speak, his voice actually cracked as it jumped between volumes, since shouting was the comfortable position his mouth fell into, but the moment he heard his voice practically snarl at such a loud volume, he confused himself since shouldn't it be a normal, average volume of someone talking? 

Then, he sees Aizawa's lips curl downwards (even farther down than his usual resting-bitch face) and Bakugou frankly covers it up because he can practically hear the disapproval and deadness in Aizawa's next sentence that would probably follow the lines of 'yOU ShOulD fiRst AdJuST, s o nO' and honestly if Bakugou doesn't get confirmation to fight today in approximately 0.1947261 seconds, he will die. 

He will die and it'll all be Aizawa's goddamn fault.

"But I know it's fine. Trust me. I hear Kirishima crying over Bambi's mom's death yesterday- and I know you did too even though you were five floors above, you called him out in class okay." Bakugou snaps. "If I can be in such close proximity to Shitty Hair's crying, and not have any evidence of my ears being on a goddamn period with lucifer's waterfall from that, then I think I can handle a bunch of lame insults tossed around for hype while I knock someone out." 

Aizawa purses his lips, and holy shit he's considering it- he's making the same 'it's easier to just let him' face that his dad always gives to his mom. It was the same look his dad actually made while his parents were arguing about whether they should let their son attend UA where everyone who is qualified must be required to be semi-suicidal to be self-sacrificing. 

"Bakugou." Oh, he's using names now. Bakugou inwardly scoffs at the fact that it'd be a lot scarier if he called him by his full name, something that he noticed parents do a lot, even fucking Deku's. Then again the time he experiences Deku's mom doing it was also with his own name, so maybe he just happens to piss off a lot of adults. "This is serious. If your hearing aid happens to be a little off balance, meaning you are hearing things too loud, it could damage your hearing since it'll be amplifying your explosions louder than it should be." He states.

"I know it's damn serious you old man, this is my body we're talking about!" He growls.

"I don't want to be liable for any injuries okay. I'm a teacher, before I am your teacher. This is my damn job, okay."

The childish urge to stick out his tongue returns, but Bakugou just gnashes his teeth into paste while crossing his arms defensively across his chest. "Whatever."

"Bakugou, I'm serious."

"I already said I know! Damn you sound like a broken recorder."

Aizawa's left eye twitches, and finally, he just snaps his tongue into a noise of disapproval, and Bakugou eyes Aizawa's hands curiously, which are shivering in unison with his eye as well. "Fine." He relents with obvious disdain, but Bakugou supposes Aizawa thinks there'll be more casualties somehow if he just didn't let Bakugou get his way. 

Bakugou should've taken his head off right there.

But he didn't. 

And as Bakugou stares menacingly at Kaminari who just barely escaped Bakugou's grasp leap over, seemingly also confused as to why he's still alive, Bakugou feels ticked off. He hesitated. For some fucking reason, as he was chasing that fucker across the field as others also combat each other, he hesitated. 

Strict rules of this sort of training was that there are no direct hits with their quirks- they just must force the other to yield by getting close enough to wrangle them to the ground for longer than five seconds- quirk is simply for distance combat between them, but they cannot directly aim for each other. 

And he was so close. He wasn't going to actually sear this fucking bootleg Pikachu's hair off, just near his face to distract him long enough to wrestle him down.

His hand was raised, but nothing came out. He could feel the nitroglycerin clamming his palms and the tingling where they should suddenly alight- but they didn't. Worse, he made sure they didn't. He consciously prevented his blasts from forming, and the damn half-assed yellow crayon skirted away last minute, his eyes dilated with fear upon the descent of his demonspawn of a friend.

"Oh. You didn't. I'm alive." Kaminari stutters, before his smirk sidles back onto his idiotic visage, and Bakugou snarls in response, resentful and slightly fearful that he was reluctant. Because wasn't he reduced to a sense of disgrace and anger when he wasn't given the opportunity to begin conjuring his blasts? He should be blazing a hell on earth with his anger fueling his need to explode everything. "Oh. Ka-chan-" 

"Shut it you demented rubber duck-"

"Kacchan did you miss?"

Bakugou, startled that Kaminari would even think that, feels humilitation stir within him. Because he didn't miss, he did worse: he stopped. He doesn't stop for anyone or for anything, except for himself. Meaning that he didn't want to wreck chaos and destruction. And he's not fucking dense. He can recognize fear. He was afraid. And he hated that. Because that's fucking weak, stupid, and utterly irrationally dumb, and he doesn't do stupid shit, especially something that holds him back. 

He's angry at himself. 

Not using your quirk- might as well be quirkless. 


Bakugou screams, leaping forward, and savors the expression of utter terror flipping Kaminari's smile. "I'll kill you!"

A net of electricity lashes forward, and Bakugou snarls, ready to simply detonate bombs at Kaminari and expect the lightening to just amplify it, until the sinking emotion of fear paralyzes the trigger for his nitroglycerin, and his breathing stutters.

He runs straight into the blinding electricity instead.

Physical pain he'll take, he refuses to scream or cry or even give any indication that it'll even fucking affect him, he'll instead just use it as another reason why he should rearrange this bitch's guts.

He doesn't even know if what he feels counts as physical pain.

His ears, burning and crackling, send him crumpling as suddenly every shout, every scream, every hit, thwack or whimper elongates into shrieks that rattle into his eardrums, rippling in shivering waves that feel as if they're tiny needles, sharp and in slivers, puncturing deep, deep, deep, into his ears.

Too shocked to properly scream, he just wheezes, and he vaguely smells something charred, but that's barely conscious in his mind that's only fixated on the sensation of fire stuffed into his ears, something burning and hurting and he can't think, can't digest can't process can't understand can't-

His eyes are glassy with a sheen of unwanted tears that surfaced at the unexpected pain that locates in both of his ears that is seemingly doing contained damage; which is worse, because then all the pain is directed at one vulnerable area. He attempts to flutter the blurriness out of his vision- but he can't think of continuing that since everything melting into a muddled mess his mind. 

Dripping. Water is dripping. Out of my eyes. 

The pain remains, but it gradually lessens, and it doesn't worsen, even though he barely feels anything other than the frazzled and jarring pain that remains within his ears even as he gingerly gets up on buckling knees. For a moment, he doesn't remember where he is.

Until he does. 

He can feel his skin tighten, stretched between the crust of his tears framing his cheeks and his snarl. Kaminari staring at him a mile away, shocked, but smiling.

Someone is singing. Singing louder than everything else, shrill and fluctuating between various pitches. 

He narrows his eyes at Kaminari, who's shouting something while leaping joyfully. He can't be the one possibly singing the incomprehensible shriek that sounds almost mechanical.

The ringing just intensifies to the point where his brain actively cringes. 

Ah. The hearing aids.

He gropes for them, and attempts to yank them out, only to gasp at the sudden burst of pain at that movement. Gritting his teeth, he gently removes it from his sensitive and burning ear. 

Still in its original shape is one of his hearing aids sitting innocently in his hand, but its fleshy color is charred, with the exterior muddled with soot. 

Gritting his teeth, he prepares himself to jerk out the second hearing aid, and realizes where he is, and stops, because Kaminari is still fixated at him. 

Slowly, the ringing in his ear is stopping, though the body part itself remains throbbing and burning.

"I b-" Bakugou needs to step closer to hear Kaminari, but he doesn't want to move. 

I was fighting him. 

Realization fucking explodes in his face.

He swivels around, and everyone else is staring, some hesitantly grinning, while others looking downright doubtful or shocked. Bakugou isn't goddamn dumb. Kaminari's electricity fucked up his hearing aids, and while he was on the ground suffering because of them, he was down for more than five seconds.

He lost to this pathetic excuse of a raw chicken nugget.

Bakugou snarls, then winces. His ears are still pulsating, and he's unsure if he's bleeding but honestly he feels if he sticks a finger in to try and find out, it'll fucking hurt. 

Everyone's looking. They're witnesses to you losing to Kaminari. You lost.

Aizawa at first contemplated whether or not he should really pair Kaminari who controls electricity, and Bakugou who wears a device that could be electrified, together.

Then he remembered these students are growing up to be heroes, so really, he shouldn't be babying them, and Bakugou is trustworthy.

He figures that Bakugou's skill and abilities paired with the fact that when concentrating, Bakugou rarely makes mistakes despite his careless attitude and rather crass mindset, would keep him relatively safe. Besides, though Aizawa hates to admit so, he at first assumed it was an unfair match, considering Bakugou's overwhelming confidence that only intensifies his power and talent, but he figured that Bakugou wouldn't actually harm Kaminari and that after everything, it might be better for Bakugou to fight someone lesser to appease his odd craving to fight, but also prevent an actual occasion or possibility of harm. 

He shouldn't have ever trusted his class of damn hyper, vibrating five-year-old man babies.

Because three minutes after sending them off to do their shit, while he's advising Uraraka how to improve her form and balance while activating and using her quirk, he hears Kaminari's prepubescent shrieking: "I BEAT BAKUGOU, I ACTUALLY WON I'M SCREAMING Y'ALL!"

And of course, Aizawa initially ignores that (first mistake, he should've known Kaminari actually winning was suspicious enough) and just waited to block out Bakugou's expected rage and shouts to happen for him to turn it into background noise.

Kaminari continues screaming. 

Screaming as in, screaming in a braggadocios way. Not screaming-screaming, like, screaming as in he's being murdered by a certain extremely traumatizing, problematic assdolphin with anger issues. 

And Aizawa turns around, to see a lump on the field, and Kaminari a safe distance away from the said lump as expected. But the lump itself was very much not expected.

Hesitating, he considers why exactly was the angry child on the ground, and not Kaminari because while Aizawa has grown awkwardly fond of Kaminari's personality and is well aware of his technique that could easily overpower a villain despite their size- Bakugou is practically Satan's pet cat that was just given a bath, and has the energy of a ten-year-old jacked up on pixie sticks. 

And the said lump slowly staggers upwards within ten seconds, and Aizawa figures that perhaps Kaminari really did somehow win. 

That is, until he sees Bakugou reach for his ears.

"Um. Aizawa-sensei?" Uraraka mutters, and Aizawa will murder Bakugou later for somehow directing all the attention at him once more, since everyone is gaping and gawking at them as they realize he really did lose against Kaminari, and nobody is practicing or doing their goddamn work. Which is an issue because a group of distracted kids means a group of bored kids which means a group of compulsive actions waiting to happen.

"In a moment." Aizawa grumbles, and if he wasn't concerned about Bakugou's wellbeing he would actually throttle that kid, but at the moment, as he reaches Bakugou in long strides, his hands miraculously don't grip the brat's neck, but instead, reaches for his wrist.

A blackened hearing aid attempting to hide within the kid's clenched fist. 

Aizawa stares at Bakugou, whose eyes are averted, swollen slightly, and amongst his cheeks dusty from tumbling on the dirty terrain with dust billowing from each scuff of his shoes, are clear tracks cleaned from tears. 

Bakugou Katsuki doesn't cry in front of others, at least, not willingly or consciously. Meaning there's another factor involved. Pain. "Goddammit you freaking hellion-" Aizawa sighs, because how can he feel so concerned to the point where he wants to smack this kid because he told him, he told him and attempted to prevent him and this is what happened and now he's hurt-

But it's not Bakugou's fault. Because he's just a kid, and Aizawa is the teacher who let a fifteen-year-old who has the right to still be immature and emotionally motivated before thinking of rationality and caution, walk straight into danger and get hurt. Aizawa didn't prevent or stop him hard enough and he should've. He knew, he knew this would happen and he didn't stop him-

"I'm fine." Bakugou states raspily, his voice soft, and Aizawa bets that it's purposefully so that Bakugou himself cannot hear those words. "Trust me. It doesn't hurt anymore. I'll be fine." And Aizawa can detect the undertone of regret, and Aizawa knows that Bakugou doesn't simply just regret his actions.

Meaning he either is for the first time in his life and therefore is blaming it on himself when Aizawa was the one who let this entire catastrophe happen, or it's something else. Regret sounds very similar to an apology. Ergo Bakugou is apologizing in his own way, and Bakugou doesn't apologize either (he really doesn't do a lot of things to be honest). Which still leads to the same conclusion that Bakugou still feels responsible for this.

"I don't want to be liable for any injuries okay." Isn't that what Aizawa said to him earlier? Isn't that what he made sure Bakugou understood? Meaning this is another one of Aizawa's mistakes, another fault- he programmed Bakugou to instinctively assume all this pain was spawned from only his actions, and he knows that Bakugou won't change his mind because Bakugou believes he's always right, and he doesn't like to share the blame since he doesn't like sharing, and he doesn't want to be called out on it either.

"I said. I'm fine, you old man. Stop staring at me like that and say something." Bakugou snarls softly, his eyes wide and savage, in theme with his furled lip baring his teeth. "Stop it. Stop looking at me like that. It didn't get worse." His voice raises slightly, and Bakugou flinches, tilting his head as if something pricked him on the side of his head. 

He's fifteen and he's going deaf, and Aizawa can't seem to do anything right.

"He's definitely dying."

Kaminari blinks. "You were the one who was insulting all of us for believing that theory?" Kaminari scowls, but Jirou continues pacing down the lunch table, her eyes wide. "Tch. Trust me, he seems fine now. He looked ready to tear me apart when we were fighting, I think his fighting spirit is still there." 

"To be fair, Bakugou always looks like that. Especially to you." Kirishima shrugs, and Kaminari smacks him. "Sorry bro."

Deku is also muttering alongside Jirou's bated whispers. "No. Kacchan falling and defeated at a fight barely worthy of his level something else must be pronounced there's something wrong Kacchan wouldn't just-"

"Maybe he is sick. Not dying, definitely not dying. But if he's sick that'd explain why he just fell. Kaminari's electricity is strong, but definitely not strong enough to subdue someone as knuckleheaded as Bakugou who would actually choose death over losing. People who have such strong and stubborn ambitions can do pretty crazy stuff that seems illogical or impossible. Or if they're on drugs. Either works, and honestly Bakugou on drugs also works since he's basically just a seven-year-old jacked up on steroids. But yeah, my belief still stands." Mina chirrups, unboxing her bento.

"Or....maybe I am actually strong why do none of you guys seem to believe me?" Kaminari makes a face. Nobody pays him attention. "I'm disappointed in all of you. I disown all of you guys as friends."

"Good." Five various voices state in unison. Kaminari chokes. "Good." They repeat.

"No. If he was sick he wouldn't be allowed to even fight in the first place." Uraraka scoffs. "Aizawa would take any opportunity to have less of us to watch over, so even if it was a fever he'd tell us to go down to Recovery Girl." She mouths around her chopsticks.

"But if he was sick it'd explain his absences, as well as him losing to Kaminari." Jirou retorts.

"OR maybe you guys are underestimating me?" Kaminari's voice hits a pitch higher than Bakugou's ego. "You guys!"

"No, no. If he was dying then it'd explain why Bakugou was allowed on the field right? Because then it doesn't matter what he's going to do if he's diagnosed with like. Cancer. Or some terminal illness. I don't know." Sero sighs, shrugging, picking apart his bread roll. "I mean. He's not dead yet, but if he was soon, then what does it matter what he does? And maybe UA just took pity on him for it and still lets him attend because of it. Those absences could be him visiting his parents, but knowing Bakugou, he'd want to last as long as possible here, right? Midoriya, what were his parents like?"

Midoriya blinks, successfully drawn out of his rambling. "U-uh oh. Yeah. His parents? Well. His dad is very peaceful, is probably the only one I've ever seen except for maybe Kirishima and Aizawa-sensei to talk through Kacchan properly and in a way where he actually takes consideration of their words." He responds, and everyone recoil in response, most likely expecting some mention of his dad brandishing a chainsaw every time he doesn't flush the toilet or something. "His mom, she's very kind to me. She would always invite me over, and was always really nice to me and even told Kacchan to be nicer to me." He beams.

"Huh. I thought you feared for your life? Maybe it's just Bakugou? I wonder where he got the behavior from then." Todoroki muses outloud.

"His mom." Midoriya answers simply. They stare, and Mina gestures for an explanation. "Oh, haha! Yeah the reason why Kacchan probably listens to his mom most of the time is because she has access to the kitchen knives at all times." They stare. "She was always so nice and gentle to me, you know."

"A knife?" Todoroki bristles. 

"Yeah. It's fine though. She only waves it around and threatens to chop off his fingers, but she doesn't mean it." Todoroki seems even more distraught by that statement.

"Um, Yeah, Hey What the Fuck." Uraraka murmurs. "This explains a lot. Also please stop you're traumatizing Todoroki." She adds lightly. Midoriya seems genuinely confused by such a claim. "Um. Okay. I think we can decide that there is something definitely happening to Bakugou, and....Aizawa seemed pretty worried you know. Also Tokoyami please stop touching the tablet-" she bats stretches over and bats away the hand from where she, Midoriya, Todoroki, Shinsou and him are on one side of the table watching it. 

"Why do we always watch Disney moves though." Tokoyami murmurs.

"And why do we always have supposedly private conversations in either a public common room or the cafeteria where anyone can just walk in?" Shinsou adds. "I don't understand this curriculum?" He murmurs. 

"We could all migrate to my room." Kirishima shrugs.

"Did you just use the word 'migrate'." 

"Shhh," Kirishima pets Kaminari, who rolls his eyes. "But like. I don't know. It feels right to be here you know."

"It's because we're close to the food." Uraraka answers flatly, and Shinsou makes a noise of understanding. "Besides, I think if Midnight heard of the opposite gender visiting each others' dorm rooms she'll begin spreading rumors through that teacher groupchat they have."

"The teachers have a groupchat?" Mina cocks a brow.

"I know right? One day I was walking by Midnight's desk to ask a question, and then I just see her phone on her desk, and a notification from a groupchat called 'UA Teachers' and I was like, 'oh what'. And it said 'picture from Mustached French Fry', and when I looked closer it was of Present Mic doing four double chins?"

"That's impressive." Mina whistles.

"Four?" Kaminari gapes.

"Of course that's something Present Mic would do." Tokoyami nods approvingly.

"A-are we just going to ignore the fact that one of our teacher's is named 'Mustached French Fry'?" Shinsou asks, but everyone has already moved on in this conversation, clearly finding absolutely nothing else interesting about it to talk about. 

"What were we talking about?" They glance upwards at Rikido who has walked by. 

"Oh my God it's about Bakugou clearly dying!" Jirou screeches, finally done with her pacing, her boots slamming against the floor and causing Kaminari to whimper out of instinct. "I heard his entire conversation with Aizawa-sensei back on the training ground with my plugs because I was curious and....Blasty sounded genuinely upset." She scowls. "Like. Sad-mad." She groans out of frustration, clearly irritated that no one else can fathom her investment. Because Bakugou sounding emotionally wrecked to the point where she feels sympathy is not something to take lightly.

"Okay....I mean. I'd be upset if I lost to Denki too-" Kirishima shrugs with a frown, ignoring the indignant hiss from Kaminari. 

" you mean disturbed? Kacchan is typically that way.... resentful? Sullen, if he's sulking?" Deku thinks.

"Smad?" Sero helpfully inputs.

Jirou only falters in her rant to give Sero a look. "No but, he kept on like, repeating things like 'I'm fine', and he sounded desperate at one point and said something like 'stop looking at me like that' and I think we all know Bakugou doesn't like pity from others-"

A soft snicker from above. They don't bother at the sight of Shoji who's followed close by Koda. 

"Um. Move it?" Jirou scowls, glaring at the three upperclassmen, who in response, just hiccup a playful laugh, but leave otherwise. 

"Wow. Um. Rude? Ridiko is a good dude, he'd be worried about Blasty too." Kirishima pouts. Jirou flattens her countenance, and he just juts his lower lip even farther. 

"No but like, I feel like if others heard about Bakugou being emotional he'd track it back to me and kill me therefore I'm keeping this to our little group, and it's not getting out." Jirou explains her aggressiveness, crumpling underneath Kirishima's pathetically adorable expression. 

"What about Momo? Aoyama? Tsuyu? And Hagakure as well as others?" Todoroki inquires politely.

"Wait, no, I'm here!" Gloved finger guns ripples the air next to Todoroki.

"Okay, not Hagakure."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. But like. Ugh! He just sounded really upset! And then he said something like: 'it's not getting worse'." Jirou finishes dramatically.

Sobered by the implications of the context, they all sit in a silence that all of them are unsure whether it's right to break.  Except for Kaminari. "Um. So....I don't get it." He claps eyes with Jirou, and in consequence, has the image of flames seared into his eyes. 

"Idiot!" She leers. "If he really is sick, then he's referring to that when he said 'it's not getting worse'! And judging by how he sounded, it sounded to me as if he was in self-denial." She snarls. "You know, like when you're lying but you're blatantly obvious to everyone even yourself. Kinda like whenever Todoroki lies and it's so obvious."

"No it's not."

"See you're lying right now!" Todoroki mimics the face that Midoriya always makes whenever confronted with a hypocritical insult tossed by Bakugou. 

"Stop making that face, clearly Midoriya's being a bad influence. Todoroki is becoming more and more culturally aware of our generation and it's corrupting him." Uraraka chides, and Midoriya just smiles. Her stern expression flickers, and somehow, it's as if Midoriya amped on his radiance of innocence that he's abusing, and Uraraka looks like she's in physical pain as her mouth twitches into a smile. 

"Hm. I'm witnessing emotional manipulation right now, aren't I?" Tokoyami squints from the couch where he's with Shinsou, both still in the conversation, but more solely concentrated on Mulan and her action transitioning scene with 'I'll Make a Man Out of You' playing in the background on the tablet perched against Uraraka's lunchbox. "But Bakugou....he's human. He has a bit of savage style of dealing with things, but is being emotional so rare for a teenager who's underneath the pressure of building themselves up to become a hero in the future?" He questions.

"Yes." Everyone, including Shinsou, responds stoically. 


"I mean. Only if it's Bakugou we're talking about." Iida states factually but not unkindly. 

"Look. We're not saying that he's emotionless- I mean, he literally gets traumatized over every single word Midoriya says." Uraraka sighs. "It's just. That he tends to not feel emotions other than anger, hatred, spite, resentfulness, bitterness, pettiness, detestation, abhorrence, disdain, irritation, cruelty, annoyance and the occasional passiveness. And he rarely shows it either." She expounds. "Therefore, for him to be upset, especially with others around, and losing without exploding is pretty concerning actually. I don't know. Maybe he's just developing....character? I don't know why Aizawa-sensei was so worried though? He looked tired as always but he actually went after Bakugou and held a conversation with him, and judging everything, I think it has to be somewhat serious if Aizawa-sensei knows and Bakugou is willing to like. I don't know. Even talk to him without trying to blow him up." She shrugs.

Kaminari gurgles from the ground. "If you're going to say something stupid, shut it." Jirou sighs.

"No! It's important." Kaminari leans upright against the seat he was slouched against. "It's....ew, okay, I'm just saying that my power is still powerful, and let me remind you, I did take Bakugou down." He huffs. "But....Bakugou didn't use his quirk at all throughout the entire fight."


"He literally uses it to attempt to intimidate us on a daily basis and he didn't use it against you?" Todoroki contemplates with a slight crease in his brow to signify how he's actually giving consideration to someone he usually ignores. "That's....strange and doesn't really go with his character, huh? He has been rather....tame these past couple days." Todoroki says, his eyes fogging over. 

"I would suspect Bakugou is the type to rush at you and try to kill you honestly while using his quirk in the flashiest fashion. I actually thought that was your entire class at first- but then I learned that was just a Bakugou thing." Shinsou inputs, his eyes still clasped onto Mulan who had just caused an avalanche. "Maybe there's something wrong with his quirk. That'd explain why he'd be so distraught, as well as why Aizawa might've paired him up with Kaminari. Did he use his quirk when he first started showing signs of something strange?" He inquires.

Everyone practically wheezed at once.

"It all makes sense!" Jirou shudders, clearly relieved at a reasonable explanation for such a strange occurrence of Bakugou not being a little shit.

"Whoa, that explains why he's moodier now, and touchier, and seemingly more defensive all the time!" Kirishima chuckles uncomfortably. "I was afraid he was mad at me." He adds, his timbre wavering almost dejectedly. "I'm glad he's not though!"

"Huh....I haven't actually seen him try and threaten to blow us up with his quirk, or activate it within these past couple days now that I think about it," Midoriya states. "That's why I felt so off these past couple days! I knew something was off when I everything seemed too quiet and relaxed. Haha! It's because I haven't felt impending doom for a while."

"Now that I think about it," Hagakure (who everyone simultaneously recollected was still with them). "I saw him yesterday with Aizawa going down to Principal Nezu's office, but I just thought maybe he did something bad again like vandalize or something because let's be honest we all know who carved 'Stupid Deku' into that desk the other day-" no murmurs are in disagreement of that. "But maybe it's to discuss this? If his quirk seriously vanished then that would actually test his stay here at UA." 

A frozen silence swarms the space left behind by the halt of words, and the celebratory air at figuring out what could possibly be wrong dissolves as clouds of toxic emotions and thoughts hovers over. 

"I mean. I know he's not really popular, but....I actually wouldn't want Bakugou gone." Kaminari slowly puts out his preference.

Nobody says anything else, since even in that circle, there are very contrasting opinions, but no one outright claims that they want Bakugou gone, and therefore nobody's really sure as to who supports what, despite the obvious suspicions. 

"Why would his quirk suddenly disappear?" Shinsou, who realizes that everyone else is too cautious and afraid to revive their conversation, steps in even though he's currently way too attached to Mushu, and really doesn't want to interrupt his movie that everyone else has lost interest in. 

"Maybe another quirk hit him caused him to lose it?" Uraraka tosses that option out, though her voice is light as well.

"So it'll reverse eventually, right?" Iida points. 

"Probably? So I guess he won't be kicked out, right?" She replies right away, though her voice is infused with obvious doubt. "I mean. There can't be a quirk that powerful that it can make something this big permanent, right? If it's this important, or something that makes Bakugou appear weak-" all of them discreetly inhale sharply at that statement, because everyone knows that if you call him 'weak' three times in a mirror at night he'll come crashing through your door with a chainsaw (another reason as to why Uraraka is a queen). "Then he would never tell us. Meaning one of us has to confront him before he completely isolates himself. He needs....moral support from us." 

No one questions Uraraka's obvious fondness towards Bakugou because while they're at most....friends (in reality, they're not close to it but considering every other relationship Bakugou has with everyone else, she might as well be), they have a sense of mutual respect which spawned a sense of platonic affection even though it may be less on Bakugou's end. 

"Great. Kirishima-"

"Please stop I'll actually die if you make me ask him that question-"

"KIRISHIMA!" Kaminari echoes Yaoyorozu, clapping his hands with a plastered on smirk. "Shh, you two are bros, aren't you?"

Iida chops his hand out. "No! We must protect the innocent! We cannot allow Kirishima to ask such a dangerous question at Bakugou since it'll most truly initiate some explosive chain of emotions within Bakugou!" 

"Uh. I agree with Tenya. Maybe we shouldn't. Kacchan might kill you," Midoriya murmurs.

"No, no!" Uraraka flutters her hands flippantly, waving off Midoriya who in response silently raises his eyebrows, clearly well aware of his friend's personality, but not stopping her. "Kirishima," she reaches over the lunch table.

No one knows how all of them ended up seated at the same table- in a rather dark way, Bakugou who has a bridge between both unspoken groups of their classroom, had connected those two when he himself started acting strange. It started nearly a week ago, when Bakugou's typical squad migrated over to Midoriya's to continue discussing about their bro, but their conversations have branched farther out than that, to general teenage talk and fun.

"Don't you think that it'd be cruel of us to not talk to Bakugou?" She whimpers, and Kirishima stares, innocently captured in her otherwise extremely obvious manipulative intent (everyone else just stare unamused, questioning Kirishima's obliviousness). "I mean, he's your bro, our bro," she whispers, and Kirishima's mouth knots into a pout, his eyes somehow becoming larger.

Kaminari snorts from beside Mina, who's shaking her head slowly at the scene unraveling before them. 

"I mean," Uraraka theatrically drawls out her last word. "We both know Bakugou secretly wants friends, and loves all of us," she continues, almost crooning. "And, he likes you the most out of all of us," at the very least, though Uraraka is clearly a witch, she's an honest one. "So, we have to be there for him, you know."

"I know!" Kirishima's voice cracks in the middle, and a cough that sounds suspicious a lot like a snicker sounds from Shinsou. 

"So, you gotta be a good friend, you know? And reach out to him! You're the only one, it'd be so cruel of us to not try and talk to him!"

"You're right!" Kirishima's fucking sobbing and nobody else at the table knows what to do. "I-I'll go ask him!" Kirishima continues dramatically, and out of nowhere, grabs onto Uraraka's hands, folding them in his own with a firm grasp. "I promise to do this, for Bakubro!"

"Oh my God." In unison, everyone else at the table who had to witness truly a horrendous act from Uraraka directed towards a rather innocent Kirishima, who is sobbing pathetically, shrugs. "I-is he okay?" Tokoyami inquires. "This....this happened before when Bambi's mom died, right?"


"Ah. Now we truly cannot stop the tears." Todoroki says.

"I wonder if Kirishima's tears are even salty considering how his personality is sweet enough to feel bad for Bakugou." Yaoyorozu murmurs, and Todoroki smothers a snort. Nobody's really sure when Yaoyorozu has developed a comprehension of how insults affect others, but it's considerably normal since Todoroki is becoming a meme, Shinsou now exists, Mineta hasn't been murdered, and nobody could file a complaint against Bakugou for inappropriate usage of his quirk.

"We just witnessed what is truly an evil sight," Iida answers properly. "We must be careful on how to approach our classmates from now on." He states with a swift nod, and Tokoyami just eyes them warily, and clips out an 'okay', before gripping Tsuyu's shoulder, clearly ready to toss her as a meat shield and ready to run. "Uraraka, you must-"

"I'm not condoning her behavior, but do you really want to tell her off." Midoriya states flatly at Iida, and Iida hesitates, before slowly putting down his arm. "Uraraka, Kirishima is still crying-"

"Crying over his bro!" Uraraka sniffs, and grabs the napkins from her lunchbox and hands them over to Kirishima, who accepts them. "Hey, I'm doing this to help Bakugou, because he needs friends and it's actually pretty emotionally traumatizing for him to go through this alone-" 

"And because you want to satisfy your curiosity you witch." Mina snorts.

Uraraka beams. 

Bakugou Katsuki loves his dear old hag.

But he doesn't want to talk to her. 

"I told you, I don't want to fucking see her!" He snarls, and Aizawa purses his lips, his eyes radiating 'kill me now', clearly stuck between his will to give up and die, and Principal Nezu's instructions to contact Bakugou Mitsuki and tell her: "heY yOUr kiD CouLD'Ve diEd TodaY buT nOt ReaLLy buT wE KNOw YOu WILL inTERpRet mY woRDs As sUch™". Therefore, he decided to make Bakugou deal with this situation by being the one to hold a reasonable, loving conversation with his mom.

Except he doesn't want to.

"I don't, it's just," Bakugou groans loudly before he stops. "You don't get it-" he gesticulates wildly, nearly slapping Aizawa accidentally.

Place heavy quotation and skepticism on the 'accidentally'.

"Bakugou, you were injured, and therefore it's underneath school responsibility and contract to contact your guardians." Aizawa scowls. "Trust me when I say, if I had the option to not talk to your mom, I would."

"Hey asshole are you implying something?" Bakugou suddenly growls, furling his lips to reveal a snarl. "My old hag is a fucking delight." Aizawa blinks slowly, because honestly he just wants Bakugou to make up his mind and stop being a cynical cryptic, because while he can totally understand why contacting Mitsuki might result in the end of his life, it doesn't mean the end of the world. "Look. I don't think you understand when I say my mom is just like me, but unfuckingfortunately, wiser due to experience and being old. Don't tell her I called her 'old'." He enunciates, as if speaking to a toddler, and Aizawa wonders if this kid is even self-aware of his own personality and attention-span. "The thing is, if I get injured in a way that's considered....more" Bakugou looks like he's in physical pain that for a moment Aizawa seriously thought he had a constipation cramp or some 'shit' like that. "Mentally, or emotionally, or embarrassing," he spits out cautiously, clearly wary on whether Aizawa will think anything of that.  "She reacts....badly. She's. Kinda just like me, imagine how she feels about this entire situation. The only problem is, we have different goals- hers is to be my mom, and mine, is to not stop no matter what. And our goals conflict and clash. Meaning that she'll be using her own personality, and her same stubbornness and abilities like mine to try and be my mom."

Aizawa narrows his eyes. Clearly her parenting doesn't work out well most of the time. Aizawa inwardly cringes when he practically hears the resounding smack in the memory of witnessing Mitsuki collecting and then slapping her son after the kidnapping. Mitsuki is actually rather respectful, and clearly more laid back than Katsuki despite their similar personalities. And she seems to comprehend Bakugou's talents and abilities as well, and wants the best for her son.

However, Aizawa can also tell that Mitsuki doesn't know what to do with Bakugou, whose inflated ego structured his personality into an unpleasant, spoiled and blinded brat. And though she can understand her son and him vice versa because of their personalities, they both don't know how to change something that they both know and live by due to that perspective. And Aizawa, when he saw her ground teeth, sheen of tears, and tense muscle after practically decking her son in the face, he can tell that she doesn't know how to raise a child that she projected herself onto, because she cannot see how he became so different even though they're so similar.

Which is why, he knows that Bakugou feels the same about himself. Because if his mom can't figure out how to fix him, and if he can't even see that he needs fixing, what is he going to tell his mom who's going to automatically try and wrangle sense into him about his disorder? He doesn't know his limits, and she can't force it into him either.

"But she's your mom. You have to tell her."

"I don't want to! She'll- she'll tell me to come home!"

"No she won't. She's the one who believed in you right? She's the one who let you come here, right?"

"She didn't want me to go at first. And...she always tells me that I'm going to crash and burn one day." Aizawa feels a flare of strong emotions towards Mitsuki at that statement: mostly sympathy for both Bakugous. Because she's trying to get through to him, but all her efforts are dwindled into dredges and misunderstandings that her son takes as insults and discouragement, which hurts him emotionally, and backlashes onto her.

They're just that similar, that they'd hurt from the same things, in the same way.

"Your mom sees the best in you. She thinks this school is good for you." he recollects the gentleness in her gaze when she thanked him for being able to understand Bakugou's interior intentions. "She wants you here. But she probably is afraid, isn't she?" Because she's just like you. You'd be afraid of the unknown, just like her. You're afraid about her reactions, about how you'll continue, and she's afraid of what is going on with you, and what'll happen to you. "How can you expect her to not be angry or scared when you don't trust her to not be?"

Bakugou is uncharacteristically silent, and Aizawa inwardly cheers because damn, he did good and he got out of being the one to tell Mitsuki the news that his kid gotten injured and humiliated. After all, when he received a call from her screaming about how she saw her son chained like an animal, forced to accept a crown he doesn't want, she sounded very close to crying.

And Aizawa is bad with feelings.

He's even worse at comforting.

And considering how the case is revolving around someone as explosive as Katsuki, he's good chilling from afar. 

"Here," Aizawa sighs, and hands over the phone connected to the medical center's wall, and Bakugou reluctantly accepts. "Talk to her." He states firmly, as he leaves the room.

"Do you regret sending me to UA." It wasn't a question. It was a statement, because Bakugou Katsuki already knows the answer to that. 

And the silence on the other end of the line, stunting the shit that his mother was spouting effectively, confirms it.

The response he got however, was a fucking dodge tactic and he knows that. His mother was deflecting the question, and because she's just like him, she's bad with emotions and questions that involve responding with those. (He pretends as if he doesn't realize his mother is probably taking this a lot harder than his dad, once following that line of thought).

And people like him and her have two solutions when it comes to emotions:

1. Avoid it

2. Don't even avoid it, treat it like it doesn't exist. It's dead to them.

Clearly his mother chose the former with his question. 

"Do you regret it?" Her voice is still hard, still sharp, still quick and pointed. But he can detect the flimsiness of the blade that's her tongue. The way that it's wobbling because she's unsure if the things she's slicing up, all of his walls she's whittling down with her bladed tongue, is strong enough to burden all the sliced and scattered pieces of him.

"Fuck no!" He spits back. How dare she even think that.

"Then I don't." She responds with equal confidence.

Bakugou attempts to keep his breaking smile out of his voice, and he's glad that he's over the phone, where she can't see the sudden tears blurring his vision.

"Hey Katsuki. You're such a spoiled brat with an ego that I should've beaten out of you as a kid, but I-" And her voice cracks humiliatingly, and Bakugou inhales wetly, unable to hide the own lump of tears suffocating his windpipe at the sound his mother made. He memorized and ingrained that sound in his brain since a child. The way her voice hiccups and her pitches shift drastically as her words come out clipped and fuzzy when she begins to cry. 

He always hated hearing the crack of her voice, because her voice never cracks no matter how many times she shrieks.

Unless if she's crying.

"But you what, you old hag?"

"Shut it you fool. Oh baby-" And Bakugou scoffs weakly at the sound of the name that his mom always uses for him whenever she got overemotional, or whenever they're in public and she wants to embarrass him because she's an asshole at heart. "Me and dad, we're proud of you, okay."

He swallows. Multiple responses such as 'I know', or 'of course you are' and his favorite: 'why wouldn't you be' are in his arsenal of common phrases, and so he chokes out an "I know."

"Brat. I'm trying to comfort you." 

Bakugou knows that his mom understands that his 'I know' means that he knows that they'll always be proud of him.

It's a great motivator to succeed. Bakugou Katsuki does shit for no one- but if the benefit of whatever he's doing means making his parents proud, he'll follow through with that bullshit.

It was a complete accident, and Jirou honestly feels so attacked for being the one that fate decided to just let her happen to pick up on this when she only wanted to use the bathroom, something that is completely within mother nature. 

But then while sulking over the restroom she found her swaying plugs filter through the feedback and identify Bakugou's voice. 

And then she found herself embedding them into Recovery Girl's walls, straining to decipher Bakugou's voice through Aizawa and Recovery Girl's chatter.


"But she's your mom. You have to tell her."

"I don't want to! She'll, she'll tell me to come home!"


"Do you regret sending me to UA?" And those words came out of Bakugou Katsuki's mouth. 

And then his next words are hazy from emotional disturbance. 

She couldn't hear whoever's on the phone, but she assumes it's his mom based off of his previous conversation with Aizawa-sensei.


She takes a moment to digest what she heard, and connects it with the rest of the information she collected these past couple days. 


Jirou's plugs crackle as they disconnect from the walls. 


Jirou does not fully fathom the situation, however, she can easily conclude through the given information, that the severity of this entire ordeal is enough to possibly send the fiery, self-confident and feral Bakugou home, and he was the one who asked with his typical gruff yet murmured voice: "Do you regret sending me to UA?"

She doesn't hesitate to pivot on her feet and return to the common room of their dorms even though that requires more walking, deciding that peeing is second to updating the others on this newfound information.

She wonders if she really wants to do this.

If she really wants to be the one to tell Kirishima that his best friend is debating over whether or not UA is a regrettable decision despite his typical and characteristic reassurance in his decisions. 

She wonders if she really has the right to even tell him. If she has the right to gossip about Bakugou's situation.

And Jirou stops.

Because she really doesn't, doesn't she.

"Oh, Jirou." Startled out of her musing, she pinpoints the source of whoever called her name, to see Todoroki standing by with a handle of stapled papers. "Is Aizawa-sensei in there?" He inquires, jerking his thumb towards the nurse's office.

"Ah, yeah." She states. "Why is that?" She asks politely to engage in small talk. She doesn't really know Todoroki that well, despite finding him relatively interesting and a cool guy with probably pretty good music choices going off of Yaoyorozu's implications towards what they may be (Yaoyorozu, that poor innocent girl literally doesn't know any other music than classical, therefore when she passed by Todoroki and leaned close to pick up on what music is pounding through his earphones, she went up to Jirou and told her he's been listening to torture devices).

Todoroki holds up his flutter of paper. "Notes for Baku-" His eyes dilate, his mouth twisting close instantly, and Jirou slants her eyes. 

"Bakugou?" She completes his sentence.


"Dude you're a horrible liar."

And she can see the sweat bead against Todoroki's left side, his emotional constipation clearly getting to him, and Jirou, hesitant if she should continue pushing because Todoroki's eyes (seriously this kid cannot be discreet) are darting from her to the window next to them. 

They're on the third floor.

"Todoroki, I won't tell, please stop you're making me nervous with your own inability to figure out what the hell you're doing."

Todoroki's eyes at least stop averting towards the window, now it's just slowly sidling over. Meaning if he is planning to jump, he'll signal at least when and she can hopefully stop an unintentional suicide.

"Bakugou is in there too if you're wondering." She adds in a calm tone, attempting to not panic this unpredictable creature. God it's like me dealing with my cat. Or with Bakugou. Or Kaminari when he's loopy. Why are all my classmates on a spectrum of suicide and stupidity?


"Okay." She echoes, and Todoroki is at least clasping eyes with her. "I won't tell, okay." Jirou repeats, and Todoroki nods stiffly. "Uh. Okay. I need to use the bathroom." She points awkwardly behind her, to where they're located and where she initially meant to go- she needs to get her life and what she wants together for fuck's sake.

Todoroki nods again, and walks into Recovery Girl's office. 

The moment the door shuts behind him, Jirou hesitantly screws her plugs back into the wall. Because why does Todoroki need to give Bakugou notes? Bakugou has been in class? Maybe notes from the previous days. Jirou contemplates the idea that Todoroki might be aware of Bakugou's possible leave of UA.

Feeling slightly guilty that she's been doing so much snooping as well as being way too invested in conversations that she shouldn't be a part of and therefore being basically a bitch, she still cannot deny her curiosity. 

I just won't tell, she attempts to alleviate her guilt. 

"Oh. Ew." Bakugou scrunches his nose as Todoroki enters the office. The boy doesn't comment on Bakugou's typical reaction to basically everything, and instead, holds out his stapled notes. "What?" The ashen blonde's eyes flicker at the paper with suspicion evident in them, skepticism and hostility laced in his timbre.

"Your notes. Aizawa-sensei asked me to write them." Todoroki replies nonchalantly, in his typical dismissive and condescending tone.

"Oh." Bakugou doesn't make a move to take them. A month ago, he would've snatched them away, but now, he doesn't know if that's appropriate, but like hell he's going to thank Todoroki. But it seems wrong if he doesn't. Bakugou scowls deeply at the papers over his conflicting thoughts.

"Do you not find them on par to your standards?" Todoroki scoffs monotonously, yanking back his papers. "If you don't want them, I'm fine with that too."

"It's not like I don't want them." Bakugou replies lowly, struggling to dissipate the anger that flared within his tone from Todoroki's impatience. "I just...." wanted to figure out how to say 'thank you' without ever saying that to your stupid face.

Todoroki sighs, clearly unimpressed by Bakugou's lack of gratitude and refusal to show any sense of sympathy, just sets the papers down on the nightstand beside the hospital bed Bakugou's sitting on. "I'm only doing this because Aizawa-sensei requested for me to." Todoroki states with finality, clearly indicating that he wouldn't have ever done it if there wasn't any authoritative intervention.


"You're awfully tame."

"Shut the fuck up you disgraced bastard of a candy cane."

"Creative. You talk to your mom with that mouth?" Todoroki leers.

"Who the fuck do you think taught me?"

"Of course." 

"Fucker, you saying something about my mom?" Bakugou retaliates threateningly. Todoroki, being mannered, just scowls, but doesn't approach the topic of family anymore, and Bakugou feels a dull throb of tiredness from everything including stupid emotions spawning from Todoroki's expression (guilt, but Bakugou is going to ignore that sensation until it decides to drown him, but that's not now so). "Look, just. What do you want. Thanks for the notes," he infuses as much annoyance within his tone, being sure to sound as flippant yet irritated as possible. "You can leave now."

"I don't have to listen to you."

"Great." Bakugou typically would tell Todoroki to fight him at the parking lot of Walmart at two in the morning, fists only, but he honestly just doesn't want to deal with it right now. 

He wants to sleep.

So, he turns his back to this idiot and lies on the bed, being evidently clear that he doesn't want to continue with this dumbass conversation.

And Bakugou expects Todoroki to accept his gracious offer of just leaving at this moment since he's being unusually tame, and he knows that. He just doesn't feel like reviving his spite after hearing his mom's voice so poignant, and not in its usual vivid tone with equally colorful vocabulary. Ergo, even someone as dense as this Japanese flag fucker should be able to tell that Bakugou is clearly being light on punishment and reactions today, and therefore, should fuck off. 

"What's wrong with you?" Bakugou can hear this asshole's voice even with one of his ears gingerly pressed against a pillow. 

"Oh my God I will actually fucking bash your brain into bloody oatmeal," this certain threat rips out of his throat, and Bakugou whips around, glowering at Todoroki's usual blank countenance. "What the hell do you want?" I already gave you a goddamn thanks, don't expect anything else.

The bridge of Todoroki's nose just wrinkles in disdain, and Bakugou is so sick of being alive he's going to toss this bitch out the window, or toss himself out the window and he honestly has no idea which is going to come first. "Bakugou, are you seriously dying?"

This kid is going to be the first one out the window.

"Don't ask stupid questions." Bakugou retorts, grabbing his pillow and attempts to suffocate this dumbass since clearly not enough oxygen has gotten to this idiot's brain since a kid, and he's a lost cause.

Chapter Text

“Oh yeah, and here are you are your notes.” Todoroki says, holding out a stack of ripped notebook papers over, before setting it at the end of the bed Bakugou’s lounging on.

"Oh. Thanks.” Bakugou awkwardly spits out, unsure if it’d be ungrateful if he added a “fuck off”, especially after Prince Awkward technically did him a favor. Except, from here, he can see the crappy scrawl of history notes and lack of organization or highlighting. Weak . His fingers twitch slightly as he wants to impulsively tear off the tattered ends of the unevenly ripped sides of the lined paper. So, with a five-second internalized debate through a crisis of conflicting identity, he settles with: “okay. Bye.” He feels slight pride at the fact that he said something without a single swear.

But, as Todoroki’s mouth opens and not say a good-bye and instead starts rambling , Bakugou remorsefully muses if he really should’ve smacked in at least eight more swear words. Clearly, his “bye” somehow didn’t fucking get through Pepsi’s dense-ass head and indicate that Bakugou doesn’t want his company.

“Now that I think about it, it’d make no sense why you’d ask me to write notes if you’re going to die soon. Then again, you are the studious type, I can see you dying satisfied by keeping your idea of top shape-” Moldy Cherry starts spitting out the words at such an intense pace, as if afraid Bakugou would start screaming at him to ‘shut up’. 

Bakugou groans. He is aware of Todickroki’s reputation of being the supposed ‘Ice Prince’ with a blank and cold gaze and indifferent and short responses, but he knows better- he knows the goddamn truth. This Coca-Cola idiot isn’t insouciant and cold; he’s stupid and awkward with the inability to convey his dumbass thoughts that probably solely revolve around cold soba and cats.

“Stop voicing your thought process, it makes you sound like Deku but deader and if possible, stupider.” Bakugou sighs, snipping off Todoroki’s rambling. Icyhot’s academic rankings are still lower than Bakugou’s- therefore he really doesn’t give a shit about this idiot’s opinion on Bakugou’s grades. “And the fucking hell of course I’m studious and want to be at the very top. Don’t see how this relates to death though. Who ever said I would die satisfied unless if I dragged you down with me?”

Silence befalls between them, and Bakugou’s tongue kisses the back of his front teeth at Todoroki’s muteness. It’s not like it’s uncomfortable- rather, the atmosphere between them is in one of those rare periods of peace where they’re able to reach the equilibrium of mutual dislike since they’re both not fired up and arguing from friction of their personalities clashing. Yet, Bakugou feels unwavering trepidation because Japanese flag-haired fucker is clearly trying to comprehend something about Bakugou, something that is probably as stupid as his thought process. Then again, it’s not like he wants this goddamn bloody dishrag to even breathe, much less speak.

"Bakugou, I believe if your situation is really so bad that you need me to write you notes, then you should tell other kids your age, or a trusted adult if you haven’t already." Bakugou arches a slim eyebrow, unimpressed, because what a hypocritical asshole. Who gave him the right to scorn Bakugou like he’s a child, especially on the topic of relying on others and opening up, something that Todoroki, an undignified and socially awkward strawberry milk carton, sucks ass in?

“‘Talking to a trusted adult’? About my issues? You sure about? Yeah, because talking about you while having a tea party with Aizawa sounds delightful.” Bakugou spits venomously, bitterness poisoning his already shitty verbal filter. He ignores how he indirectly complimented Aizawa.

Scoffing, the boy folds his arms across his chest, and Bakugou feels slight satisfaction at the flush of red blotching the knuckles of his gripped hands, since that indicates he’s getting under Todoroki’s skin. “Bakugou, you couldn’t beat Kaminari in class-” And Bakugou has a strange urge to sit up and deck the kid (lies: that is totally not a strange urge) for his slight strain on the portable phone charger’s name. Because though Bakugou can understand that it’s not Todoroki’s intent, it’s almost implying that Kaminari is physically weak or inferior, which is not okay because only he can be a shithead to that idiot. Yes, he can easily beat Thunderbolt because he’s Bakugou - not because pikachu ran out of electricity protein shakes. In fact, (a fact that Bakugou would forever verbally insist is as true as one found on Wikipedia) Kaminari has improved quite a lot and is a considerable opponent (not to him , of course). “And you missed around two days of class too, and you’ve been seen with Recovery Girl consistently.”

“Wow, what a creep.” He knots his lips, though they twitch upwards at Todoroki’s responding scowl. “And? Have you ever considered that I was maybe sick?” He spits. “Oops, I’m not immune to fevers like you. God, Strawberry Shortcake, be more considerate-”

“The only thing that implies you have a fever is the fact that you’re delusional to your problems and behavior.” Teenage Santa Claus replies flatly. “But, of course. You don’t have problems or behavioral issues. So was you losing to Kaminari just based on purposeful choice?” And, oh, is this tomato with a splotch of hairy, white mold taunting him?

“Was your personality a purposeful choice?” Bakugou leers. “Fuck no.”

“So something else affected you? So you are sick? Because if so then it must be serious considering everything weird happening around you.”

“Who said I was sick?”

“You did?”

“Shut up.”

“But I-”

Shut up.”


“Shut. Up.” He snaps, wanting to do nothing more than crumple onto his bed and sleep (or fight this rip-off Harley Quinn, either works). But, since even Todoroki’s freaking existence just has to make his life harder, he remains slouched and upright, so that Tofu-roki won’t see his hearing aids obscured behind his tufted bangs. “And even if I was sick, why are you so invested? It’s just a sickness. Deku here literally digs himself a grave every other week, and that talking charging-port literally gets dumber than usual every day, even when he doesn’t overuse his quirk.” And he can feel Todoroki’s gaze drill into his head despite Bakugou’s rather logical counterpoint that’s meant to shame Todoroki for appearing all mushy and clingy, and oh. Oh. Bakugou’s eyes gaze warily at the notes at the end of his feet. He trusted Aizawa to not have said anything about his condition, but it’s very possible that he needed to offer some explanation to Todoroki as to why he has to suddenly write notes for Bakugou. Meaning Todoroki has a better reason for being suspicious, or worse, he could possibly know more than he’s letting on because of Aizawa. In hopes of deterring whatever argument Pennywise here could conjure, he says quickly: “And besides, if whatever I’m hypothetically going through is as severe as you think, what could you even do about it?” He challenges.

“Mental support.”

“Like you’d ever understand or deserve that.” Bakugou meant that as a simple retort with no meant implications or subject for it to revolve around- it’s weaker than his usual insults anyways. That is, until he realized how quiet these ticking seconds have been, which is weird considering Todoroki’s compulsive need to not let Bakugou have any satisfaction of having the last word. And Bakugou realized with horror only conveyed through a sudden pulse in his tightening jaw, of what his words could be easily interpreted as.

He cautiously and discreetly glances upwards, to see Todoroki’s ashen visage and paleness in his knuckles that are entwined together in a clenched fist held up to his lips. Bakugou wonders if he’s gripping his hands so tightly to prevent him from punching him. Bakugou knows that this asshole doesn’t know that he’s aware about his….strained relationship with his father who conducts questionable parenting. But it’s not as if Todoroki attempts to hide whatever disdain or resentment he might hold for him (but sometimes, Bakugou can tell that there’s love and understanding between them, no matter how distant it may be), so maybe Todoroki really did assume Bakugou meant to make a jab towards whatever’s mentally binding him and his father. Wow, nice to know that I’m just that much of an asshole , Bakugou sarcastically and rather indignantly thinks.

“You know, Bakugou, I didn’t expect any less from you.” He says crisply.  And Bakugou wants to scream or kill someone, and he’s already done the former too many times to be satisfying- he needs to start up the latter as a hobby.

And then, to Bakugou’s terror triggered from sudden shock, he can feel a familiar wetness slicking heat across the back of his eyeballs. Shit. Bakugou cries when he’s intensely frustrated, upset, and tired . But it’s only ever in front of his mom, who’d either hand him a cup of scalding ginger tea or chuck it at his head, depending on the circumstances. He’s mad at Todoroki’s fucking brattiness spurged by his unwanted, probing and frankly insulting interest in what’s not his business. That’s already a major variable to why his eyes are strained and dry from glaring in spite of the accumulating tears. But he’ll never cry because of Todoroki. That’s not self-denial, that’s a simple goddamn fact because that damn rusty water faucet doesn’t deserve that sort of attention.

It’s actually everything else, that (also) makes him want to take a lamp and shatter it across someone’s skull and cry into the noggin and overfill it with tears before he drowns someone with them.

His mind frantically rewinds through the information that he could possibly and easily never become a hero because of his worsening hearing, and how if everyone found out about it he’d be known as the pathetic protagonist whose blooming skill was cut short and therefore a waste of talent. And if he still became a hero despite all that, no one will take him seriously no matter how hard he worked and surpassed the title of the pitiful charity case- because who the hell’s own quirk worked against them?

The topic his mind was calculating and blueprinting abruptly derails as he moves onto another subject that leaves him emptier than the last. It leaves him too hollow and dark for the uncontrollable and alcoholic wildfire that ignited in the pit of his stomach from intense resentment, hatred and bitterness to even faintly illuminate his mind and heart. Maybe this was just the universe finally punishing him. Maybe he lowkey deserves this because didn’t he ruin All Might’s career? This just might be karma-

He inhales sharply.

Maybe his obvious lack of future and loss of a wholeass sense is simply the dishrag’s ass universe turning around, mooning him, and flipping him off (not necessarily in that order) because Bakugou might’ve-maybe-probably-totally-absolutely-fucking-shitting been an awful person back then. Like this is some fucked up repayment method.

And he wants to kill someone, cry, find his mom and let her hit him for crying because he doesn’t cry other than in front of her since that’s against Bakugou Katsuki’s law, and also because he killed someone, which is also against the law.


If this truly is karma, then it’s guaranteed he doesn’t have a future. Fuck that shit. Fuck crying for his mom and throwing a pity-party for himself while being an unproductive, moping shitstain.

Glowering, he mentally punches himself out of his own pathetic brooding, and redirects his glare upwards, at Todoroki, who to Bakugou’s absolute disdain, is staring at him with such a cloudy and distant countenance, yet with observant and calculating eyes. Firstly: rude. Secondly, what a creep it’s so damn unnerving.

And because he’s Bakugou fucking Katsuki, he begins spewing out swears to first make things less damn awkward and to snap Todoroki out of whatever hypnotic trance he’s stupidly fallen into this past minute when Bakugou had an internal but easily ignorable existential crisis. Besides, screaming does suppress the scalding lump bulging in his throat. Whenever he argued with his mom, he's always the first to scream, and the first to cry.

He’s well aware he’s considered ‘emotionally unstable’. Not his fucking issue if others are bothered by it- he’ll scream whenever he wants. People don’t seem to understand it extends to how easily upset he can get, and not just in a way that could be categorized in synonyms of rage. He’s so stressed about goddamn everything and albeit pissed about it, so he guesses that every of his feelings really could be redirected to anger of some form.

And right now, piling on with the swirling disappointment and outrage from the humiliation he felt from losing in front of everyone, along with his crumbling future and reputation and goddamn hearing- Todoroki just has to test his limits.

It doesn’t necessarily help that he already wants to bite that motherfucker’s hand off. Whatever he feels right now about Todoroki is so insignificant in comparison to everything he’s currently going through, yet, he’s still (pathetically) riled up from it. He's so fucking upset about that licked candy-cane because he knows that he won't be able to alter Todoroki's mind because he doesn't respect him, which pisses the hell out of him. So, this hairball fucker doesn’t deserve the right to view him so condescending, especially when his own personality is as compelling as a sock. “Fuck you, you freaking jackass. I didn’t mean it in that fucking way. I’m not that much of a goddamn asshole you fucking hear me I didn’t mean it like that how dare you even think I’m bitchass like that-” he growls (Bakugou considers tacking this incident of indirectly bitching about Todoroki and his dad onto his list of shit he’s done that might be why the universe hates and is unfairly but fairly working against him).

"You can't even string together a normal sentence without cussing to try and seem cool. Stop blaming everything on others. You're such a kid." But Todoroki doesn’t bring up Bakugou’s comment that indirectly insulted whatever weirdass relationship he has with his dad, and Bakugou bets that he got his point of being innocent to that interpretation across. Which is good enough because other than that he doesn’t give a shit what the kid thinks: Moldy Hotsauce’s Opinion < Bakugou’s Overall Disregard.

"And you’re not childish? You're only staying to get the last word. Just go, it’s not like you’re happy here." He retorts snappishly despite feeling rather grateful towards Todoroki’s strange tameness in spite of what just happened minutes ago. He eyes the curtain behind Todoroki warily. When is Aizawa done? Now that they’re both done with that entire shit fiasco of a conversation, he wants Aizawa. He could really use Aizawa's coffee stained smile and look of utter apathy that says he'll actually smack them with a crowbar right now.


He grunts.

“Stop looking like you want to eat my first-born baby. It’s unnerving.”

“Are you here to simply insult me? Go away.” Bakugou sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Bakugou doesn't back down from an argument, but at the moment, he just wants Todoroki to go away, which is saying a lot since usually Bakugou would rather follow his primal instinct to get offended, fight anything that breathes, and shove a radish down someone's throat. So before Todoroki can retaliate, he snarks: "Why are you still here? It's not because you fucking care about me- get over that bullshit already. That sort of reasoning doesn't exist and you know it- you'd only ever believe it to stroke you damn ego. And I'm not dying, either, unfortunately for you. Admit it, you're not leaving because you want to get the last word, to see me blow up." He's sweaty, hot, and his hands are starting to heat up startling fast from the tension in the atmosphere between them, and he seriously hopes he doesn't accidentally activate his quirk from a sharp jerk of his temper.

Activate his quirk? He looks down, and for sure, in the creases of his reddening palms are beads of sweat, leaving an uncomfortably clammy feel.

And Bakugou's mind automatically rewinds to his fight with Kaminari.

By this point, the crooks of his elbows and knees are sticky, and his feet slick with sweat, soaked by his socks in his sneakers. He didn't even notice the copious sheen of it on his palms, since its tingling and smokey smell of nitroglycerin is normalized and doesn't alarm him by this point.

His hands grip into itself as heat overwhelms his numbed hands, all caused by the look of boredom on Todoroki's barely irritated expression-

And nothing happens. No physical explosions to support his explosive temper. Just a week ago, he wouldn't have hesitated to activate his quirk and smoke out Todoroki's face.

He really is a sham: a bluff. With his anger alone and no mastered quirk, he has no effort, no physical sign of skill to explain his arrogance. He's simply all bark no bite without his quirk (he's nothing).

And as Todoroki's face crinkles at his lack of verbal or physical response, Bakugou realizes that the boy was riling him up in hopes of getting something, something bigger than a simple cry of upset. What a spoiled fucker- used to getting what he wants.

But Bakugou for once, didn't respond with unadulterated anger and physical assault.

And deep down inside, where it's shameful and pathetic, is the truth that he made sure nothing came out. Because it's not like becoming deaf would prevent his quirk from activating. He himself must be the one stunting the mechanics of it on purpose.


"What?" Bakugou has no idea why  is still O’ Canada is still here or alive, and so he ices the swell of anger at his persistence.

"You looked like you were going to kill me but I'm still very much alive right now and instead now you're looking at your hands as if they've personally insulted your dead grandmother." He answers.

"My grandma is alive and will actually shove her cane so far down your throat that it'll shake hands with your lungs if she heard someone thought she'd really pass away onl at the age of ninety-two." Bakugou responds flatly.

"Oh." And Todoroki is staring with his calculative expression, and it pisses Bakugou off. Because to Todoroki, he's simply a specimen and Bakugou is pretty damn sure asshole knows that Bakugou knows. And Bakugou doesn't know how to change that. He's certainly tried to force it. It infuriates him, because Todoroki is utterly fucking blind to all his effort that dragged him to where he was back at the tournament. Bakugou respected him at that time. Because despite what he's learned about Todoroki's past, he still made sure to remain professional and give in all his effort: that's respect. But Todoroki couldn't even bother in politeness to return his acknowledgement to Bakugou’s abilities.

And now, his weakening hearing chips away at his honed skills as if all his training was simply nothing. But even that gradual process of becoming weak appears to Bakugou as a delusion until he's punched with a full dosage of reality when he ends up hopelessly defenseless. Which makes the fact that Todoroki saw him as weak or unworthy during the tournament, even worse. Because Todobitch probably sees Bakugou’s current, vulnerable state exactly the same as his being back at the tournament- meaning he didn’t even think there was anything of Bakugou’s current power to regress on; that he didn't have any work, any effort, or anything to rewind on. At that conclusion, Bakugou feels the instinctive urge to defensively ripple his lips back and ferally expose his teeth.

"Oh right. Another reason I'm here, is because I wanted to ask about that fight with Kaminari. I know we discussed it briefly seconds ago, but you were busy screaming and looking like you were seconds away from fainting from explosive wrath, so I’d like to bring that topic up again." Todoroki says, utterly unfazed by Bakugou’s previous comment.

It's like the entire world is operating my life like I live with the Kardashians.

Bakugou has a sudden prayer that a piano crashes on him. Or Todoroki. Either way, at the very least one pain in his ass will go away . He really doesn’t see why the entire female population (and probably at least more than half of the male) finds Todoroki that hot fucker who’s cool for never saying shit, when in reality every time his mouth opens Bakugou feels a sudden and intense wave of absolute misery and need to flee the country because once it opens, it doesn’t close until someone takes a metal bat and socks him in the face with it (Bakugou actually doesn’t know if that method works, but he’s willing to test it out for scientific reasons).

"Okay. Let’s say there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re not sick, and there’s definitely nothing suspicious happening in your life right now because you are obviously not hiding anything.” Todoroki states monotonously and Bakugou stares, because what a bold motherfucker, acting like they didn’t just have a Britney Spears 2009 meltdown less than thirty seconds ago (he makes a note to stop hanging out with Camie, who’s influencing his lingo and weird American references that he doesn’t even understand). “You didn't use your quirk. Why is that?"

"Because I didn't want to."

"You always want to. It’s the only skill set you have- acting on impulsive and self-absorbed decisions for intimidation tactics."

"Okay, I'm taking full offense to that you freaking holiday-edition Barbie. Come closer you dumbass-"

"Todoroki?" They look up to see Recovery Girl watching them, unimpressed, with Aizawa behind her looking even more so. "What's wrong?"


"You know that the curtain doesn't make things sound proof right? We were right next to you." Aizawa hitches his thumb behind him at the curtain shoved aside.

"I apologize for whatever words you might have heard." Todoroki freaking bows. Bakugou stares at his figure, unimpressed.

Aizawa shakes his head. "I feel like I’m supposed to reprimand both of you and probably hit someone, and make you two apologize to one another.” He sighs, and Bakugou automatically slouches since he’s pretty sure that though Aizawa probably hates everything and everyone other than the welcoming arms of death and coffee, he’s probably more fond of Todoroki than him. After all, Todoroki wasn’t the one who accidentally pulled a thrust spinebreaker on another student and ended up slamming said victim onto Aizawa’s car last Saturday. In complete fairness: Aoyama escaped unscathed and Bakugou didn’t meant to grab him- he was aiming for Sparky and he just death-gripped the first blondie he saw. “But I’m not going to do anything with you guys because I’ve given up on you two.” Aizawa adds. Bakugou doesn’t know what he expected, considering his teacher’s inability to give more than a single fuck (Bakugou actually views it as a talent). Such a skill has been practiced every school day since Aizawa is inherently surrounded by coworkers whose personalities are all personifications of Deku’s personality traits injected with matured hormones, overexposure to weird sex-tapes (Bakugou really doesn’t want to think about it, but something has to be blamed for Midnight’s eccentric personality and weird innuendos to furry porn that he didn’t even know was a thing until he Googled it and decided the world doesn’t deserve him and wasn’t worth saving), and unlimited Halloween candy. Bakugou sympathizes, actually. He knows what it’s like to simply be hateful and dark in the midst of sugar happy classmates who probably snorts Fun Dip powder for all he knows.

“Todoroki, please dismiss yourself. Thank you for dropping by to see your fellow classmate.” Aizawa demands not unkindly, and Bakugou nearly snorts out his brains at how even though Aizawa sounds like he’s probably dissing your 25/8 of the time, one can still tell when his desert timbre becomes drier than his eyes. Apparently calling he and Todorkroki classmates, a technical but unfortunate fact, seems too intimate for their relationship, and Aizawa has no boundaries on using it as a taunt.

Stiffly and without reluctance by the command of authority, Todoroki bows and mutters: "sorry, Aizawa-sensei." Aizawa nods at that, and Todoroki responds with one of his own, before dismissing himself.

Bakugou doesn't care about the stupid apology- it's not like Half n' Half actually meant it, but nevertheless he’s grateful for Aizawa since now strawberry smoothie is gone. Though, Halfie’s forced apology lowkey annoys him. It’s as if he said it simply to make himself sound more mature, the ‘better person’. He violently shoves that feeling and thought aside.

Bakugou groans dramatically as Aizawa turns to him once the door shuts (and ignores the echoing and mocking groan of his from his teacher), before addressing Recovery Girl who appears way too invested in teenage drama considering how she’s staring intensely between him and the spot where Todoroki was (then again, she's gotta be like. A hundred. No wonder she lives vicariously through her students' lives). "Anyways, did you and old lady-" it's odd how he addresses Recovery Girl with seemingly more respect than his own hag. "Figure anything out?"

"We've decided to order specialized noise-cancelling headphones for battle use. The way they work is that they amplify normal noises you'd hear in conversations and such, but when a sudden and loud noise happens, the headphones will automatically cut off and block it out. So during training and on the battleground, you can wear them, while in daily life you just stick to your hearing aids." Aizawa expounds.

"Things like that exist?" Bakugou isn't really sure as to why he's surprised, considering technological advancements in this day and age.

"Yes. It's very common in gun ranges. Of course, we'll see if we can customize it to fit your field of practice more." Aizawa answers. "I know you're very much against relying on things other than yourself, especially things that are deemed breakable, but I think with hard work on your part combined with technology to try and compensate for whatever disadvantages you may have, you really do have a future."

"Wow you make it sound as if I didn't have one before."

"Not with that attitude. No one's going to hire you. They're probably afraid that you'll bite them." Aizawa replies without hesitation.


By the end of that conversation, Bakugou waits for Recovery Girl to walk away, and he watches as Aizawa leaves the room, and flips his back off.

"Bakugou. I understand what you're going through, but honestly, is any of this necessary?"

"Okay, but think about it." Bakugou harshly swallows the huge chunk of sandwich that he bit into. His mama might've raised hellfire and an actual reincarnation of satan- but not without manners. She would whack him with her wooden spoon (lightly though, only hard when he decides to bite the spoon back) if she caught him speaking with his mouth full like a knuckle-dragging, stone-aged heathen. "Isn't it so fucking weird that without my hearing aids, I can’t hear any of Deku's weird muttering, but I always thought I did every time I saw his mouth doing it? Like I unconsciously just remembered how annoying he was and filled in that silence with that knowledge. And I don't know what you're talking about; my friend always puts ketchup on her ice cream whenever she’s drunk, but never when she’s sober?"

Aizawa sighs, and sets down his chopsticks across his bowl of unfinished rice. "I....get you're underneath a lot of stress, have zero friends other than one with questionable taste buds who I’m hoping is not drinking underage-"

Bakugou is ready to throw Camie under the bus, until he realizes that though she’s basically the personification of Kirishimi and Kaminari’s love child’s emotions and IQ, she’s still more tolerable than those said idiots, and is actually pretty fucking funny. So he just takes another bite out of his sandwich and lets Aizawa finish.

"And need someone to vent to, but the first time I let you in to eat lunch with me was completely out of niceties you know. You weren't supposed to actually come back. Or even accept in the first place."

"That was yesterday. That was literally my first time"

"Yeah and I already lost ten years of my life from hearing you talk within the first time.” The man gazes blearily at him, and Bakugou sticks out his tongue, drawing a raspy sigh from the hero. “Why are you even here?” Bakugou contemplates adding a finger too, but decides against that; Aizawa is still technically his teacher. “I get that Midoriya and All Might sometimes share lunch because of their weird special bond that makes me question a lot of things in life that I'll ignore, but usually teacher and student relationships consist of me shouting at you and you guys shouting back. Not us having small talk over lunch. You have friends such as Kirishima and Mina, do you not? And Sero as well as Kaminari get quite along with you- especially the latter.” Bakugou snorts viciously in mockery. “I have eyes, Bakugou.” He continues, unimpressed. “I see how Kaminari is one of the only students who’s able to invade your physical privacy. He’s always touching you in some way, grabbing you and slinging his arm around you.” Aizawa says sharply, aware that Bakugou was about to argue with that. He watches smugly as the kid snaps his jaw shut and hiding his teeth crowned with leering lips.

Finally, the blond grumbles: “It’s not his fault that Kaminari is so fucking clingy and needy . I’m just too tired to deal with that bullshit and so I just let do whatever he wants with loose boundaries.”

“I see. And here I thought you didn’t even care enough to learn anyone’s last name in the class except for Kirsihima’s.” Aizawa replies aridly. He smiles wickedly. Yeah he has sore, bloodshot, eyes and just wants to close and never open them again; but to see Bakugou’s neck strain as his countenance scrunches violently, everything highlighted a shade of crimson, is worth the fact that he’s sitting here, not asleep, with his eyes open and drier than his personality. Because a Bakugou caught-off guard does feed into his insatiable urge to make fun of others.

“It’s not my fault. Later I did tried to learn those idiots’ names. Like Round Face after our fight.” He grumbles, and Aizawa looks up from his rice, pleasantly startled in spite of Bakugou technically insulting his classmates even though there’s unadulterated affection and respect disguised in his words in his own weird way. “It’s just that after they introduced themselves, whenever they talked to each other I couldn’t ever catch their names.” The warmth that seeped into Aizawa’s weary joints (he sounds so old) and invaded his shriveled, raisin, heart freezes suddenly, frosting his blood cold. “Turns out I could never hear them say each others’ names so I just started calling them by distinguishable traits.” The teen mutters. Aizawa grimaces, the cold sinking into his bones now. “I only know Denki, Kirishima, Tape Dispenser, Raccoon Eyes, Earlobes, Daddy Issues-” Aizawa purses his lips, ready to reprimend the kid because he’s supposed to be some voice of authority even though he doesn’t mind Bakugou’s foul and crude nature (at the moment, at least. He remembers when he wanted to light the kid on fire), but Bakugou is already moving on. “And everyone else I just guess around and I sometimes know them. Oh, Froggy." 

"And she is?"



Bakugou just shakes his head with such slowness that Aizawa feels as if he's being taunted, and he squints. "Never mind. But yeah. Talked to her because found her fainted in the common rooms during the last snowstorm. Apparently, she hibernates. The common room's heater wasn't on high enough, so I just. Directed Daddy Issues over to warm her up and after that she wouldn't leave the hell alone. Finds me whenever she's bored to watch movies with." Aizawa leans back, startled, his eyebrows up to his knotted hairline. Bakugou said it so casually, as if unaware what he's done is considerably...."nice". "She's pretty cool. When it's wet outside she eats the mosquitoes around me, and doesn't pick out shitty movies." Then, as if suddenly conscious to exactly what he's saying, Bakugou slouches, the rim of his ears highlighted red from embarrassment. "And yeah, that's it since she's the only one that I don't hate in this entire class."

“Aren’t you childhood friends with Midoriya?” Aizawa teases, though his voice remains dead as ever.

“Who?” Aizawa levels his stare. “Sorry, never heard of a Moron-iya.”

Aizawa rolls his eyes. “The one that calls you ‘Kacchan’?” He humors the kid, knowing very well that by this point Bakugou probably does know everyone’s name if he’s heard it clearly at least once. “Then again, doesn’t Kaminari call you that as well? Proof that you are close to all of them considering how you haven’t burned him for that." He ignores but takes sadistic satisfaction in Bakugou's screech because hey, he lives off of everyone elses' suffering since he's always the subject of the universe's torture. It's nice to know he's not alone every once in a while. "Sounds as if you’re used to him and his friends, so why don't you just eat with them?” Aizawa redirects the conversation back to the previous topic. He really needs his alone time. He’s surrounded by students who he does care enough to stab someone for, he cannot deal with them for more than at the very most ten hours of his day or else he’ll really die from a cardiac arrest by his thirty-first birthday. “I'm pretty sure they're a lot more interesting than me." He tosses in the last part, knowing very well that Bakugou loves it whenever he insults himself- even if sarcastically.

Bakugou grunts, and just shreds into the excess ham of his lunch.

"And while in a sense this is still probably professional, I don't know how appropriate it is for us to be eating lunch like this. Midoriya and All Might are different because they're just weird and high-happy all the time. Me however, I personally hate human interaction, and you hate basically everyone. I think me saying that last statement itself, was unprofessional and shows too much laxness around my students already."

"No, no, I enjoy your brutal honesty." Bakugou states. "I mean I guess it is unprofessional for you insulting me in general when it's not constructive criticism and rather you just being your caffeine-bitter self, but as long as it remains between us...” Bakugou shrugs callously.

Aizawa groans. This kid will kill him. Already, Aizawa has lost any sense of authoritative responsibilities around this kid, leaving him spouting shit that should've never made past his filter composed of obligations required from him as a teacher. "Okay, Bakugou. I suppose that while you're here, being way too open and expecting me to inevitably indulge in every question you ask of me, no matter how questionable and concerningly stupid they are-"

Bakugou shrugs nonchalantly at that.

"I might as well turn this into a more beneficial time period for you. I bet you're here, because you're scared of being near your friends with your hearing aids, which make you feel too vulnerable and eye-catching for them all to see your weak spot that could never be compensated."

Bakugou nearly falls out of the fucking chair. And Aizawa would laugh. He would point. Take a picture. And laugh. But, he knows better, and instead, waits for Bakugou to recollect himself. Any sense of friendliness (or as friendly as his condescending smirk could be) on the teenager’s face is replaced by obvious disdain and even hurt, that was quickly overwhelmed and hidden by even more anger.

Aizawa learned by now that all of Bakugou’s emotions, even love and happiness, somehow fall underneath the overarching description category ‘anger’. Therefore, sparkshit really has only one emotional switch that turns his feelings on and off, and on just flips on all of his intense and overwhelming feelings under the umbrella term ‘anger’, awake.

"You said you enjoyed my brutal honesty." Aizawa would feel like an asshole at the moment, if he wasn't too tired of constantly being anxious over Bakugou's emotional stability, always feeling as if he could never get a remotely accurate ready of the boy's feelings, thoughts, and gameplan. Saying what he said actually brought on relief.

Bakugou stresses him out so much, and it's not just because of his attitude.

It actually frightens him from time to time (though he doesn't actively think about it) especially since recently, he’s been gazing too long at Bakugou during times in class trying to get a read. He notices whenever the kid is squinting, nonchalantly but studiously scrawling down notes, or watching others activate their quirks during class whenever they're excited or trying to show off. Because in all those times, Bakugou's expression contorts into something new, all of them open and allowing Aizawa insight into Bakugou's emotions as he's the type to let others unashamedly know about his feelings. And they're always changing, and the issue is that Aizawa cannot see how in depth, how severe those feelings might be, and how sensitive Bakugou might be in terms of those emotions.

He's concerned. Because Bakugou doesn’t get help. He doesn’t want or seek help, and when it’s offered to him, he rips off its limb and uses it to beat the help away. And if Bakugou thinks that there’s something weak about him, something that could seriously affect his future- there’s no way in hell he’s going to tell a teacher of this school staff if he thinks it’ll compromise his stay at UA.

He mentally curses at that. Bakugou’s physical setback is something that Aizawa could easily believe him persevering through and make it into the line of hero work, just with more casualties than the average hero. However, he doesn't know if that's possible if Bakugou's mentality goes down the drain. Because Bakugou doesn't get discouraged easily, but he also just. He just. Sucks ass with emotions. It's a very obvious fact about this kid, that he just freaking sucks . And that’s a huge recipe for future disaster when the ingredient of Bakugou being a little shit who would rather not share his problems or any new negative symptoms or if his hearing is getting worse out of fear that UA would drop him, makes this dilemma worse.

"I’m not scared, I just don’t want my friends to know about my hearing and get prissy over it." Bakugou jerks his nose to match the rest of his disgusted countenance, as he punctures a juice box crumpled in his tight grip with a straw. Guava juice spurts out of the hole from his blunt brutality, but he doesn't seem to notice the sticky fluid dribbling down his taunt knuckles, clearly too wrapped up in his own emotionally sketchy thoughts. "I'm not scared." He echoes, gnawing on the end of his plastic straw like a dog tearing through toilet paper. Aizawa cringes at that. "Who gives a crap if I end up deaf. I'll still be the number one hero- they should be the ones afraid if they're going to get beaten by someone with a such a huge setback." He snaps.

Aizawa scrutinizes Bakugou. Everything the kid is saying is genuine. By this point, Aizawa's been trained to read people. And Bakugou, a teenager who never had a reason to learn how to conceal his emotions as a child, should be rather easy to read for someone like him. The struggle is deciphering where those emotions are from, since while Bakugou might be shit at dealing and hiding his feelings- he's good at obscuring reasons for them due to his ability of making fake bravado and tricking others by using his seemingly simplistic personality as a shield. Because to everyone, Bakugou just seems like a ticking time bomb who happens to have the average human emotions. Nothing deeper. And he believes Bakugou wants to keep it that way. Actually, Aizawa bets Bakugou doesn't even know he does that. The kid probably does it to himself- he's so good at tricking others than he tricks himself without even trying. Christ, what an idiot. His class is crammed with idiots and he should just fail all of them and expel everyone if he didn’t know that Yaoyorozu, Questionably Midoriya, and either Todoroki with his familial issues (or as Bakugou so delicately put it: ‘daddy issues’), Tokoyami and his gothic counterpart, or Bakugou married to Anger Management Classes would end up as one of the future Big Three. And the rest of his class has obvious potential as well, all of them unique with their own individual personality different yet perfect for the flexible mold of a dedicated hero- he wouldn’t be surprised if ten years from now when he’s old, even more bitter, with teeth stained farther from caffeine, he sees Iida, Uraraka, Kaminari and Kirishima on the news and popularity charts. He’s pretty sure sponsors are already asking about Shoji and Sato, as well.

He freezes. Aizawa wonders if he needs more coffee if he’s thinking remotely positive things about his class. It’s only twelve in the afternoon and his hands are quivering from his previous mixture of Five-Hour Energy shots and eighth cup of coffee as black as his soul.

He needs a nap.

But he’s stuck here playing counselor, he guesses (he ignores the knowing that he doesn’t really mind, and actually is rather touched that Bakugou is willingly to discuss topics that are out of his comfort zone with him).

"What about outside of the hero life? You need sound for daily activities." Aizawa brings up.

Bakugou snorts. "I just won't become completely deaf. Like you said, I just happen to have acoustic hearing loss or whatever the heck it is, I don't fucking know-" Lies. Aizawa bets he's trying to sound less informed to prove that he wasn't worrying about his inevitable deafness. Aizawa wouldn’t be surprised if that the kid spent eight consecutive hours Googling up all his symptoms on WebMd or Wikipedia. "And I have issues with speech perception-" What  a nerd. Ironic,  considering Bakugou’s insistence on Midoriya’s lameness for being one as well. "Both of these could be solved through hearing aids, and me learning to read lips and line it up with whatever blurred shit I can hear. Is it weird that I just described noise as blurry?"


"Okay. Just checking." The not-really-delinquent retorts sardonically. "But seriously, with those headphones you mentioned earlier, I really do think my hearing won't get too bad until like old age. And I know they can't block out every loud noise, but I think it'll block out the major ones that causes permanent or severe hearing damage. As long as I give time for my ears to heal, it'll be fine."

"You're a hero. You can't just expect for any resting period in between fights."

"I get that," And he is inwardly impressed that Bakugou doesn't appear the least frustrated or irritated at Aizawa's role as the devil's advocate right now, especially in regards to the extremely stressful overarching topic of this conversation. Bakugou is still a teenager, and he's going through an entire ordeal that could actually ruin him and his future, as well as rip away the one mentality he's been nurturing as a kid. And Aizawa clenches tighter around his chopsticks, because this one thought always ruins his concentration and leaves him feeling as if someone’s dribbling melted glaciers through his bloodstream as he digests shards of glass. He’s scared that Bakugou will go down the line of thinking that if he can no longer follow the identity he wants, which is to be a hero, that he won’t have any other future or that there are no more identities to take up. And knowing Bakugou, he doesn’t settle for less than what he thinks he deserves or works for, meaning if he’s rejected the label of being a hero, he might not find anything else worthy or fulfilling or worth living to become. Perhaps Aizawa is being pessimistic (which he loves being, it works out great for him most of the time because that means he literally has no expectations so nobody can let him down anymore than he expected), but this idea always scared him. Bakugou is just a kid.

He feels as if his lungs are tugged into a the extremely tight and complicated knot that Midnight would always fasten while capturing villains with her weird sketchy whip.   

He steals a glance at the emotionally unpredictable boy. He appears accepting of the inevitable or unchangeable results, but undefeated towards the malleable parts of his fate as well. Aizawa feels something warm blister in the cold, soggy cavity where his heart should be (it's been long gone after growing up with Present Mic being his friend).

"I've been thinking, wouldn't there be other heroes with huge setbacks? Also how come Present Mic never received any hearing damage?"

"He was born with a natural blocker against his own soundwaves. Can't say for the rest of us though." Aizawa mutters, reminiscing how many times after experiencing that freaking mustached parrot's screams, he literally couldn’t hear anything other than a consistent ringing and his vertigo would be thrown off and he’d collapse like a drunk. "Many heroes have a reason as to why they're not self-inflicted by their own quirks. Whether it be a cellular thing where they can quickly repair any damages caused by them- such as some heroes being able to repair nerves or the hairs in their ears that could be damaged by loud noises, or, they have a natural blocker that prevents them from being hurt in the first place such as Jirou. You're one of the few quirk-users who has such a fatal weak point. Genetic quirk mutations that have a negative impact like yours happen all the time.”

Bakugou seems to take this into thought, his sneer deepening, but doesn't appear actually mad, other than pissed at probably his own body for leaving such a shitty repayment method in the usage of his power.

"Okay, fine. Let's say I just go deaf. Can't there be some sort of technology that allows me to sense vibration, patterns or soundwaves through other means than just hearing?"

"Not impossible, at least when it comes to vibrations. But do you know how advanced that technology must be? It must somehow process those vibrations and your brain must be able to identify what it may be and figure out its directions. You're not a bat- or Jirou, which I guess really isn’t any different. Both have superior hearing for those vibrations, something that’ll be unattainable by you." Aizawa sighs. "You can't find solutions around this issue, you can only find them after dealing with it yourself.”

"You think I don’t know?" Bakugou leers, and Aizawa realizes that while Bakugou was a lot calmer than usual, he's still himself, and there was a reason why he was so tranquil. It's because he already wants to spend his anger on something else. Aizawa takes a long sip of his coffee to prepare himself for the inevitable verbal onslaught. "I am literally one of the strongest kids around, and I can get stronger too, I can go farther, I can create my own techniques, my own moves and utilize them the best way possible, and you're really going to think I can't handle myself without my hearing? I know how severe it is, I'm the one who has to deal with this bullshit anyways!" He roars. "I have years to figure it out and teach myself to adjust to it. And aren't you guys supposed to be some of the best heroes? Can't you guys figure out how to deal with one missing sense? There are so many other weaklings around who can't beat me even when I'm deaf in this school! I literally have nothing else to go for, nothing else to live for if I don't become a hero!” This sounds like just random screaming, Aizawa isn’t entirely sure what point Bakugou is going for though. “And you’re acting like I don’t know how bad this is getting? I know what the school is going through for me, I know what they’ve risked for me but the thing is, I can’t even defend myself!” Aizawa furrows his eyebrows. Bakugou pauses, his face stricken for a moment, and continues, but Aizawa notes the stumble in his words. “By defend I mean I can’t...defend myself as well without my hearing.” He stammers. “And if I get kidnapped again?”

Aizawa gnashes his teeth. He wonders if Bakugou gets nightmares. He appears fine. But he got kidnapped and threatened, constantly stolen in spite of being told he’d be guaranteed safety from UA . He's upset in both a sympathetic and irritated manner. He packs up his utensils- he doesn't feel like finishing his meal. But he makes sure to maintain eye contact with Bakugou, as he feels as if this kid just needs someone to vent to, and he doesn't want to worsen any sense of isolation or loneliness from Bakugou by not respecting his words or acting as if he's not listening.

“I don’t-” And Bakugou chokes, and Aizawa sees his eyes wrinkle into slits as he flails his hands around, gesturing wildly. “I don’t know what to do .” He looks and sounds pained to even admit that. “I am trying my best and I know my best isn’t enough but I don’t know what to do- ” And Aizawa expects more screaming, but instead, Bakugou's expression crumples slightly, his sneer flattening.

He looks like he's going to cry.

But he's Bakugou Katsuki, and as expected, he doesn't cry, and instead, his pinched countenance stitched together by various, unidentifiable emotions, hardens into a flat surface of blankness. "It was my fault I got kidnapped. I wasn't strong enough.” Bakugou states it like a fact, even though Aizawa can see his pride rearing its head through the glint in his eyes. “And maybe it makes sense then. If I wasn't strong enough then, how strong could I be now that I lost my hearing? How do I become the number one hero like this?" Aizawa squints, because he literally cannot decipher if Bakugou is promoting or shitting on his strength by this point. He wonders if Bakugou knows what the hell he's trying to get at, either. Judging by Bakugou's horrified sneer and widen eyes that reflect young terror, Aizawa guesses that Bakugou really doesn't know either and wishes he didn't say what he just said. Aizawa always expected the young blonde to have an obviously strange relationship with his pride and possible insecurities spawned from his superiority complex.

And Bakugou is just a kid . Despite his pride, and sense of independence, of course he’d feel utterly lost at the moment, and though he’s probably in self-denial of it, fearful of doubt towards his power from his peers that he probably still doesn’t know the names of.

“Literally everything you said made no sense since you switched personalities five times throughout it,” Aizawa finally says. “But Bakugou…” Now he can’t possibly say that they don’t know what to do either. The school is actually relying on Bakugou to figure most of it out while they deal with any alternatives to help. They’re hoping that they can just get through the years with Bakugou without his hearing reeling more negative attention towards the school. But that’s not what Bakugou probably wants to hear. The faith the school has in him may be reassuring from time to time, but in this case, it just appears like added stress, and being abandoned to find his own way. “Your hearing, and your kidnapping was not your fault. You found a way to fight through all three circumstances. You are a lot more capable than you think you are-” he never thought he needed to give a self-esteem pep-talk to Bakugou. Then again, he didn’t think that he’d adopt two cats that a certain student had bought off of Craigslist and are now residing in his apartment, probably eating his couch or something. “And you don’t have to know what to do, you don’t need to have a constant plan. You just need to how to fix a situation quickly. In the middle of a battle, if your hearing becomes an issue, you have to solve it. All these situations, they’re not something you need to worry about all the time, they’re something you must familiarize with and be able to handle with calmly through experience. Meaning you’re going to struggle a lot more when you go against villains whose quirks prove advantageous, or when you’re in a stitch, but you can’t prepare for those sort of things.”

Now he really thinks Bakugou is about to cry. And he realizes, that maybe Bakugou’s main concern isn’t being unprepared, but failing. That as he’s experimenting and trying to deal with his hearing through experience, that he’ll fall behind, that he’ll fail, and that without any gameplan, that’s the inevitable path.

Of course, at the end of everything: Bakugou hates losing. The simplest answers are always the most obvious ones. He has no idea how to keep Bakugou from losing because how does the kid necessarily win at all this or at least not feel like he’s losing?

"Yeah, thanks for telling me what I already know." Bakugou seethes, jackknifing out of his chair, kicking it over for good measure. And Aizawa figures that a good source of why Bakugou is so riled, is that he revealed his emotions, his thoughts, his supposed ‘weakness’ to someone else.

So he just watches as Bakugou slams a couple of papers off of his desk, probably to try and reestablish his rebellious complex after having an emotional breakthrough for what AIzawa is assuming is the first time of his life. Still unacceptable behavior, though. "Bakugou." He says sharply, and Bakugou doesn't turn to look, but he stops, clearly juggling between whether to storm out or listen to authority (because even when the latter seems unlike him, Aizawa knows that Bakugou doesn't necessarily 'respect' authority, but rather, he's just cautious about people who are stronger than him and has power to do things to him, no matter their status).

"Go eat lunch and see your friends. This is a huge change in your life and no one will hold your reaction against you, but if your reaction is to continue and push on, then know that people will support and back you up. You will not face criticism, only respect." Because though Aizawa really has absolutely no idea how to comfort this child (though he feels unusually flattered by Bakugou's trust in him to even discuss emotions), he figures that he needs mental and emotional support, something that he himself is bad at. So he may be pushing responsibility onto Bakugou’s friends instead, who are also just children and aren’t aware of his situation or how to deal with such a emotionally fragile entity like Bakugou. However, he has faith in his friends to at the very least to influence Bakugou for the better. They already had, judging by Bakugou's obvious yet discreet character and moral changes throughout the year. Just months ago, Aizawa doubts Bakugou would've even bothered with Tsuyu if he saw her unconscious on the floor. "Go talk to your friends. You don't need to tell them anything, but be around them. It'll show you that really, the support you've always had never changed even when other things in your life right now are."

Bakugou's back remains turned, but he can see tension loosen slightly, as he returns to his usual slouch. "You're dismissed. Be glad that I'm not making you stay behind and clean the entire classroom alone for knocking over my papers." He adds stonily.

The moment Bakugou's crumpled back leaves the room, the bell rings. It's the end of lunch. He peels a sticky note off its pad, and begins to jot down a reminder for him to ring in an appointment for Bakugou to their school therapist. He has no idea how to present such an idea to Bakugou without the boy being insulted and probably try and eat the sticky note and shit it out- but he knows for a fact that this might be the only time Bakugou could be persuaded into caring for his mental health and acknowledging it, especially after what happened to it due to the kidnappings. As he grows older, in the line of work where innocent deaths are a constant and heroes don’t always win, there’s a good chance that he’ll encounter more mentally draining situations. If Bakugou while young and still (debatably) flexible with his perspectives hasn’t absorbed or been introduced to therapists or dealing with emotions, there’s a good chance as an adult he won’t even believe it to be necessary.

He sighs, and pastes the note onto the edge of his computer screen, before freezing at the other sticky’s reminder at the corner of the screen.

Feed Luna and Leo.

Dammit. He didn't have time to call his neighbor to help feed the cats.

Chapter Text

He scowls heavily. There’s nothing wrong with therapists, he can understand that. However, he doesn’t need one. He doesn’t have a mental illness or a disorder- just a physical disability. A hearing one at that, and what’s a therapist gonna do? Talk about his ears’ feelings?

And yet, here he is, in a UA wing he’s never actually been to before or even knew existed, awkwardly sitting on a chair after refusing the fuchsia beanbag, and watching the brunette pop a wad of gum. “Bakugou Katsuki? Can I call you Kat?”


“Great. Kat.” She says, her eyes glassy and unnervingly wide, fixating onto him. Bakugou has the urge to flip over the desk and probably set an explosion off right against her face and ruin her unblemished complexion- but there’s something familiar about her obvious unprofessionalism and already obnoxiously rude personality that’s comforting. “Sorry, I’m not usually like this with others. I just happen to recognize you.” Stiffening in his painfully bubblegum pink seat, he bristles, because of course she recognizes him for his vicious “meltdown” during his win at the sports festival- or if possible, an even worse option, the slime attack.

Feeling his defensiveness trigger a wave of nitroglycerin sweat, panic, and lava that’s flushing through his veins, he briskly stands up, the chair toppling down from the force of his movement. Maybe a month (haha totally a lie, a week ) earlier he would’ve sent an explosion in her direction, but he doesn’t even know if he can , and that thought just intensifies the pressure combusting in his chest.

Unaware to his inner turmoil, she continues. “Everything you discuss with me, it’ll be-” she makes a zipping motion across her lips, finished with a wink. “Also, I think I’ll get along with you fairly well. My lil’ sis knows you, says you’re a chill dude and all. A good friend.”

He blanks out.

“Friends? What friend?” He snickers, his bitter emotions ebbing away, leaving him tired from relief because though he feels suspicious at the thought that someone thinks they’re close enough for him to consider them as friends - it’s better that she knows him through that manner than the alternate ones that were worrying his mind. Then, with the knowledge that she probably looks like someone he knows well enough to remotely not hate him, he actually analyzes the features. Wide, doe-eyes shining a hazy shade of brown that gives him the impression she’s not all there in the brain-pan, and a deeper shade of chestnut coloring her long locks. Something clicks into place in his mind.

“Oh my God.”

“Katsu? Do you finally recognize me?” She flashes a peace-sign.

“I’m leaving.”

“Boi, your appointment is set for an hour already- you are not wasting my time.” Her teeth plushed with full lips knit into a feral smile. “Get back here Katsu. I have-” She suddenly holds up a jar of spicy guava candy, and bats an eye fanned with thickly coated eyelashes. “These things that Camie said you love.”

“Camie never said she had a sister. If I knew there was another version of her, I would’ve  been more careful of who I meet.” He clicks his tongue. For some reason, though he typically hates strangers and he hates the idea of building new relationships since they take too much effort, he figures that this play-doh head’s personality is basically a replicate of her sister, and he could probably tolerate her. “Fine, I’ll stay.” He mutters and with his toe, skillfully flips the chair back onto its legs before sitting in it. Camie is one of the people he could laugh publicly around and actually admit his affection towards, thus he can tolerate her sister for her. Besides, his main concern about having a therapist was building a relationship with them, especially over his personal issues. He doesn’t want to share his personal thoughts with even people he would consider as “friends”, since their egos would boost from it and they’d suddenly overvalue their influence in his life- which is not okay. An unfamiliar therapist is slightly better, since they won’t be that clingy, but then they’d judge him and see him like every other stranger else sees him (a violent and brash knucklehead) and he’d have to guess their thoughts since he doesn’t know them well enough to know how they’d react to his words.

So yeah, maybe someone who already knows him in a possibly positive light is a better than any other option like a close friend or a stranger. Even better that it’s someone who knows him through Camie, who wouldn’t lie about his abrasive personality, but actually enjoys it and would explain why.

“This entire room looks like someone vomited Pepsi-Bismo all over the walls.” he muses, shuddering at the intense, Mina-like pink coating every furniture. “I feel like this is some weird Ikea ad.”

“Ikea? Ah. I see Camie has been introducing you into American’s weird meme-culture.” She laughs. “Well, I’m Sachiko, and please, drop the honorifics.”

“Wasn’t going to use them.” He grumbles, and she laughs chipperly once more, and he cringes. “Great, so, let’s talk about....I don’t know what I’m actually supposed to talk about with you.” He glances at her sharply. The glossy sheen of naivety still paints a layer over her eyes, yet, he can see Camie’s subtle smirk and dangerously bright glint reflected off her sister’s features. “I mean. I guess Eraser-dude wanted me to make sure you good. So, you good my bro?”

“How did you even get this job. How did you even get a job.”

“Camie’s right- you are pretty funny!” She snorts, and he squints. “But really, ‘less than three’.”

“‘Less than three’?” He takes a moment. “Oh my God, a heart I HATE you-” But nevertheless, he finds himself coughing down a laugh, and as he tames his smile down, he figures that maybe this appointment won’t be too bad.

She snaps a finger gun towards him, paired with a wink. “I guess I gotta check out your happy-levels, ya know.” She chews her gum loudly, and normally that would irritate Bakugou, but just like Camie, she has that odd charisma to her that makes him unable to be entirely pissed at her. “So, you got kidnapped again? Oof, you must be extremely popular, can I get an autograph?” A comment like this from anyone else, even from a closer acquaintance such as Kaminari, Bakugou honestly would’ve taken explicit offense to that and actually crank up whatever stew of negative emotions within him. However, with Sachiko, he finds her okay. He knows Camie’s good-intentions and he can see that sisterly resemblance. And if he’s going to be honest, out of every single person he knows, Camie’s probably his least-not-hated. “But really, bro, you good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He sighs. “What’s your quirk?” He asks nonchalantly.

“Don’t got one.” He blinks. “I know right. So you don’t gotta worry about me doing something weird to get you to spill. I mean, I’d totally do something weird like show you vine clips I found online, but like. Nothing quirk related or anything unconsented.” She snaps her fingers in unison with a bubble she blew from her gum. “But really, kiddo. You went through a lot of tough shit.” He angles his eyebrows slightly at the sudden profanity out of surprise, but honestly- this is an Utsushimi, he really shouldn’t have any set expectations for her. “Like, really, it’s pretty damn scarring ya know, to like. Be kidnapped. I would’ve pissed myself, honestly. But if I did, I think I’d be pretty brave,” she admits unabashedly, and he blinks. “If I cried, I would still think I did pretty cool. If I vomited, if I got scared, if I had nightmares, I’d still think I did pretty good.” And, for once, the haze netting her eyes disperses, revealing unsettling vibrant eyes, blank and unreadable, piercing into him as she says: “do you think otherwise?” Almost challengingly.

It’s a trap. He wants to say no. He figures many would think he’d say otherwise, but, honestly, he finds it cowardly to make fun of someone for going through shit when they made it out alive- this is a new perspective that formed after what he’s done to All Might. However, he knows that his old-self, the one that bullied Deku for crying, the one that sneered and took pleasure at mocking the pathetic, is still entwined with his perception, corrupting and dismantling his ability to think in that new light. Because he still feels unwarranted shame whenever he wakes up sweating and quivering from nightmares revolving around his kidnappings, he still feels coursing bitterness and hot tears whenever he’s regarded as the Slime Kid.

“No. I don’t think otherwise.” He answers, his lungs withering as he knows that he’s taken her bait.

“Then why do you have an issue with yourself, Kat? It’s not that hard to tell that you’re still suffering from it, and you just said there was nothing wrong with one suffering from past experiences, yet I can see that you’re ready to deny it. That you still think that it’s ‘weak’ to have side-effects from all you went through.” She hums flippantly. Then she pops open the glass jar crammed with candy, and holds it out to him. “Candy?” Quietly, he accepts one, tearing it open and suckling on it.

It has a faint taste of cinnamon. It’s good. Not the exact brand that Camie always buys for him whenever they randomly meet, but still pretty good.

“So, Kat. She jams the lid back onto the container. “I guess without your hearing you feel defenseless, more vulnerable? Do you think whatever trauma you’ve experienced from what happened to you intensified after hearing issues?” She inquires.

“I don’t have trauma.” He spits. “Yeah, I’m bit shaken up-” venom infects his tongue as he feels awkward and uncomfortable admitting those words. “But I can get over it. I don’t have an issue.” He snarls.

“Oof, sorry bud. Sounds like you got trauma.” She says, and he snarls, and wonders if it wasn’t Sachi, an Utsushimi, he actually would’ve gotten mad. He guesses that at the very least under those circumstances, he would’ve remained in self-denial and refused to confess anything. “But like, okay fam. Go off, I guess. Seriously though. It doesn’t really matter what it’s called- trauma, issues, side-effects. I think what really matters is how it’s affecting you man. And I know you think that it’ll just make you stronger to deal with it ‘like a man’ or to ignore your feelings until they go away, but these are things that need to be addressed.” She flicks away a kinked strand of brown hair that fallen across her vision.

“How do you ‘know’ these things?” He hates it when people make assumptions about him- or are arrogant enough to think their assumptions are correct, that they know him or that they think they know him. Like hell they’re worthy enough to guess shit about him. He darkens when he realizes that this is exactly what’s wrong with Deku.

“Oh. Idk fam. This is kinda what I got the vibes from, ya know?” She wiggles her slender fingers into his face at the word ‘vibes’, and he leans back against the chair, dangerously teetering on its back legs to avoid her nails. He contemplates biting her fingers off. “But anyways. “Ya know that my judgement is what decides if you’re suited to undergo any surgery? Such as your...cohealer implant?”

“My hearing...rests on you? Your judgement?” He questions. “Bullshit.” He breathes, though he gazes at her quickly to make sure she doesn’t take any real offense towards his words. She clearly doesn’t, considering how she’s currently scrolling through her phone. “You like this with all your patients?”

“Nah, only with fam.” She sniggers. “Typically, I wouldn’t even bother building any sense of intimacy with patients. It becomes a hassle when even a friendship builds, even though it’s nearly impossible for some level of our outside lives overlapping into our professional ones. When...we get too close, I typically cut them out, even refusing to see them outside as a therapist, as I relocate them to a new therapist.”

Bakugou blinks. He’s never heard of this, then again, he never really bothered with therapists or psychological bullshit- his schools barely talked about this and previous classmates would actualy label trauma as “bitchass weak excuses”. His stomach churns- he used to join in that sort of teasing (ironic considering how he is now). So he never really had much respect or thought for therapists until now. “You can’t even have relationships with them outside of a therapist?”

“Because they’ll be much too reliant on me, dependent to the point where they’ll start mistaking my relationship with them. Because if they spill everything about them to me, they begin to think that they know everything about me in turn as well, that our relationship is more intimate, that I see them as something more than just a patient.”

Bakugou remains silent at that. What she said from an objective viewpoint could be easily taken as cold. Yet, he could find himself comforted by that thought, and he believes that in a sense, he can reflect that understanding onto his own relationships.

“But, Katsu-” He’s given up by this point on bothering to scorn her for using such a babyish nickname. “I don’t know. I gotta good feeling ‘bout this one. You don’t get too easily attached, we can joke around and actually be friends without you being dependent on me. Even though that’s what I’m here for- it’s just that...ah, it’s hard to explain Katsu. It’s technically unprofessional and probably breaking some rules.” She shrugs.

“No, I think I get it. Trust me, we can probably get along, but it won’t mess with whatever therapy session you’re trying to pull here.” He promises laxly, slouching lower in his chair.

“Yeet.” She winks fluidly. He wonders if she winks too much, her eyelashes will glue together from stray eyelash glue. “Okay fam, so. You have nightmares or somethin’?”

And Bakugou typically would feel intense humiliation, knowing how stupid it is to be scared of villains when he’s going to become a hero and have to deal with them all the time as an adult. How could he possibly be the number one or even a decently average hero if he cannot handle a kidnapping that resulted in him being saved without any major injuries or torture? There are stories of heroes retrieved with their skin mottled in various shades of purple, painted with sharp lacerations, and some with missing limbs. Many heroes mentally or/and physically break to the point where they can’t even use the bathroom alone.

Literally the hardest smack Dabi gave him was weak in comparison to the one his mom gave him after the kidnapping. Even Deku breaks his bones into pieces from training himself , and then shatter those pieces every other Friday afternoons. The bruise from Dabi’s palm literally bruised for less than a week.

So, it’s more than embarrassing to have nightmares. It doesn’t help that he’s now aware of how shit his hearing really was, that at night when everyone’s presumably asleep, he refuses to take out his hearing aids. Instead, he finds himself instantly wary and startled by the slightest indication of noise, keeping his aids crammed in his ears, as he just wonders underneath his covers if those were the same noises made right before his kidnappings, and he just never heard since he couldn’t. It makes him wonder how much hints of danger he missed without his hearing, and if he took out his hearing aids while sleeping, he’ll miss something else and end up gone once more without warning.

And now, he can’t even make himself activate his quirk.

If he’s caught once more, he’s truly and irrevocably fucked.

He feels his mouth instantly snatched of any moisture, as dryness spreads through the back of his throat. He can’t tell her this. He can’t tell her about how he can no longer feel the tingling of his palms when he starts to warm up his quirk; how it feels dead and cold, as if he no longer has the mechanism of his powers. Because he’s pretty sure that those sort of things, she’d be forced to tell the principal. And if the principal hears he doesn’t even have a quirk, even if his hearing is restored, he doesn’t even qualify to be a student at a hero school.

“I do get nightmares.” He begins slowly. “But they’re fine. They’re stupid and I usually don’t remember them anyways.” It’s true. As the day progresses, he tends to shrug off any consequences of his nightmares, and usually, can’t even recall the nightmare itself if he really wanted to. “I don’t remember them anyways. Like, not because I repress them or anything, like I just don’t remember because you know. They’re a dream.” He shrugs. “And...honestly I don’t really care about them. It’s just that when they happen I just get…” he wrings his hands awkwardly, unwilling to confess that he feels weak. Vulnerable. “And when people touch me,” especially near the nape of my neck “or grab me from behind, I just think about how they grabbed me.” He doesn’t specify who he’s referring to- Sachiko isn’t dumb. He’s relieved that she hasn’t conjured up a clipboard or some shit to jot notes down, but he muses if there’s a recording device or some shit legally planted about. “I don’t like. Lose sleep or something like that. I mean. I do , lose sleep, but only when the nightmares come. I don’t like actively think about it when something hasn’t triggered me to.” He struggles to explain.

“Do you lose appetite?”

He hesitates. The villains has drugged the bland food before and perhaps that does make him cautious about meals he hasn’t specifically made himself, and even cafeteria food from time to time, but that’s only when he’s especially paranoid at that moment. And that happened only once when Sero snagged him from behind while Kirishima at that time had coincidentally grabbed his lunch for him; that had transported him back to the musty room, tied to a chair, with Toga purring as she latched a hand onto his shoulder with her other gripping a knife, and Dabi setting his bowl in front of him, mockingly twiddling a spoon to force feed him. The food that time was clean since Bakugou didn’t experience any sketchy-ass side-effects, but still. There was something especially degrading and memorable about that time, even though Dabi and Toga didn’t do it just to spite him; it was because he refused to eat and they were genuinely concerned he’d die before they got anything from him. That small factoid actually bothers him a lot more for an unfathomable reason.

“No. Not really.” He finally decides, figuring that the appetite thing wasn’t necessarily important.

“Oof, that’s good.” She answers coolly. “Kiddo-” He scowls. “Katsu?” He rolls his eyes. “Sheesh. Tough crowd. So you feel paranoid, anxious, or ‘weak’, as you’d put it?”

Bakugou winces, his face pulling into a signature grimace. Quite direct of her. “Yo, you don’t gotta answer, you know?”

“Yeah.” He snarls, accepting her statement of comfort as a challenge. She won’t judge . But he knows he’s judging himself right now. “I guess.” She sighs, and he watches warily as she suddenly grabs a notepad, and scribbles something down. He slowly folds his legs up, watching over his knees, feeling at unease that she really is going to record things down. Then, as if sensing his dramatic gaze, she looks up.

“Oh.” She then holds up her notepad, showing it to him. “These are my groceries. I wanna make curry tonight.” He squints, attempting to decipher her sloppy cursive.

“Add white onions.” He advises. Her mouth drops into an ‘o’, and she quickly jots down his suggestion.

“Oof, thank you for your addition.” She beams. “Anyways, you not being able to hear, it just intensifies those feelings, right?” He purses his lips, and nods shortly. “Ouch, that sucks.” She says. “Anything else?”

Uh yeah, I can’t use my quirk and I know it’s because I’m being stupid since it doesn’t matter if it affects my hearing by this point . Also a lot of my nightmares revolve around me being a selfish asshole who refused Deku’s help and let myself get captured because I was too weak to get over my shitty hate for him, which resulted in hurting UA’s name, getting captured by the villains, and hurting All Might. “My friends are dipshits and are invading my personal privacy.” He settles with- it’s close enough to what he’s thinking. “They know something’s up, but they’re being losers about it.”

“Drama? Drama amongst your peers?” She gasps, leaning forward, for the first time throughout the entire conversation appearing thoroughly invested in whatever he’s spouting. “Tell me,” she flashes a wicked grin.


“How was therapy?”

"It was good. Wasn’t a waste of an hour of my free time.” Bakugou replies shortly. After therapy, he simply took a shower, shouted at Kaminari for appearing in his bedroom without warning (again), and went to sleep after studying. He figures he’ll exercise today as normal, since therapy is only scheduled for once a week and he is therefore free for the rest of the week to do whatever the hell he wants.

“Hm. Good. How was Sachiko, by the way? I figured she would be suited towards your personality considering how she’s generally more lax about things than other therapists. They’re all very good, she just appears less sterilized.” Aizawa says.

“She’s great. Questionable morals, but great.” Bakugou replies, swallowing his curry. He had time to cook lunch for himself as it’s the weekend. He chose to cook curry today. With white onions.

“I see. So nothing wrong, is what I’m hearing.” Aizawa summarizes. “Seeing how you seem fine, Sachiko-san is still very much alive, and you haven’t blown something up or used that punching bag with Todoroki’s face taped on it in awhile, I have no idea why you’re here.” He finishes smartly, and Bakugou rolls his eyes. “You have no reason to be here, no complaints other than the usual about your peers, and it’s the weekend, I’m tired, how did you even find me? You don’t have classes!”

“We all know you sleep in homeroom classroom over the weekends because you’re too lazy to go home.” Bakugou exposes. “It’s not really a secret. During weekdays when we come in you’re literally still asleep in your sleeping bag sometimes.”

“So you know I’m tired.” Aizawa responds. Of course that’s what he takes from it . “And for your information, I only sleep overnight when I have too much paperwork and papers to grade to take it all home, so for convenience I stay here and do my work. Our teachers’ lounge has a sufficient amount of instant coffee and snacks because of Present Mic, so I can last easily over the weekend.” Bakugou cringes at the blatant confession over his horrible diet. His mother would literally scream at Aizawa, a pro-hero and a teacher of her own son, being unable to take care of himself. He wonders if he should take up that position and start screeching at him now. He would love any excuse to scream at a teacher anyways.

The two of them eat in silence. Bakugou had came with his lunch today that he scooped out of the entire pan of curry that he was lowkey forced into making since the rest of his class started begging for rations once they realized he was cooking, and Aizawa was grading and clearly hadn’t gone to find food in a while. Aizawa, when faced with grades, Bakugou staring expectantly at him with his own lunch, had felt oddly threatened enough to go scrounge up a sandwich from somewhere.

Which lead to this. A comfortable silence that Bakugou finds odd shelter within, even more than he would with Kirishima or Sero.

Then, Aizawa slams a nicked hand down, and Bakugou recoils, startled. “Why are you still here?” Aizawa groans, and Bakugou snickers. He loves making others uncomfortable; kudos when it’s just from his own presence. “Bakugou. Get out. It’s the weekend. You have actual students, peers, friends .”

“Okay but. Consider: I hate them.”

“Bakugou, get out before I expel you for undisciplined behavior.”

“I literally pulled a wrestling move on Aoyama onto your car last week and now you’re punishing me?”

“Don’t test me.” Aizawa replies without looking up from his papers. “Bakugou, I can sense you sticking out your tongue.” He continues monotonously, scribbling a ‘73%’ on a test, and Bakugou figures it’s Kaminari’s. “Bakugou, stop snickering.”

“You aren’t even looking.”

“Your annoying presence is tangible, and I just felt it inflate. I know you’re flipping me off right now.” His teacher expounds, still not looking up from his work. “Get out before I call your mother and tell you about your behavior.”

Bakugou leaves swiftly without another taunt.


He can’t believe he got kicked out of a classroom by someone as lame as his teacher .



Bakugou doesn't bother to look up from his textbook, figuring that Kirishima is going to ask him to study with the others. Weekends are their usual cram sessions, and they all start at twelve, when they could start cracking open shitty books while slurping up ramen. But today, he missed the start of it since he went out of his damn way to visit his truly ungrateful teacher. Once he was kicked out by the said teacher, he felt much too awkward to ask the others if he could join their studying, so he retreated back to his room to do it alone, which he honestly doesn’t mind. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of getting him to ask them for anything, especially their company. Besides, it means he has some alone time from freaks who keep on asking cryptic questions.

"Bakubro?" He grunts. "Uh. Are you okay? Like actually? You can tell us anything, you know, right?" And wow, Bakugou was already pouring all his odious emotions from his lunch with Aizawa (which was an hour ago and he's still not at the point of cranking down his salt levels) into studying, and now he has more fuel for his bonfire of wrath. Fun.

Todoroki. You're definitely reason why throughout the entire day everyone's been staring at me, and why Kaminari was actually trying to be nice around me. And now, Kirishima is treating me like I’m going to break or explode someone, which I always want to do, but he’s now  acting differently. Bitchass.

After his visit to the doctors, he’d assume his classmates would treat him relatively the same, in spite of his uncharacteristic absence from class. However, clearly something did happen and it's his fault for expecting otherwise because he already knows his class is the biggest, dramatic reality TV show ever, as proven by how these past four days they’re all being weird as fuck. Even Round Face and the people who hang out with Deku, who he doesn’t even associate with or know their names, were blatantly staring at him during class. Stalkers . And according to Todoroki, he’s been seen visiting Recovery Girl, which albeit appears slightly strange considering how he already returned to class and appears healthy, but they’re not asking him about it at the very least. Which, to be fair, relieves him of any trepidation and dread of having to answer any questions about his odd and distant behavior (which he doubts was as noticeable because even while normal, he avoids everyone), but also amplifies any nervousness due to the absence of communication. Because obviously they think something’s up, but they’re not asking him directly, and rather, being vague jackasses asking creepy questions. And in that way, it leaves him unknown to whatever they’re thinking or scheming up. Those little shits.

He blames it on Todoroki. He probably said shit about him writing notes. He narrows his eyes. He really has no idea what's going on, but it most definitely was that idiot’s fault, and if it's not, then it'll become so.

"Why you asking such a dumbass question? The hell’s up with that?" He inquires snappishly, rather than resorting to his usual dismissal. Because he needs to know at least where the root of this odd concern is sprouting from, because Todoroki and damn Mina asked him if he was “okay”. Even Uracrapa has been a lot more annoying by talking to him, bothering to chase him down after class for conversations, which, if he was to be honest, wasn't unpleasant, it was just. Weird . She's even discussing things past simple conversations with him, since they had listed down favorite heroes together, compared them, and even mentioned family once or twice. Even stranger, they're no longer arguing in spite of their competitive relationship and clashing opinions over Deku, and he’s even tolerating her and not screaming at her or trying to headlock her every five minutes. He jolts. They became close enough for him to headlock her. Weird.

Mina became odder too. And same with surprisingly Frog Girl and Invisibitch (who really isn't even a bitch, and actually quite fine to be around since she's less annoying than everyone else). Just two days ago, Invisalign approached him, even though they literally never had a conversation with each other. At all. And it ended with them watching conspiracy YouTube videos at two in a morning to settle a debate about whether the supernatural existed. They’ve both reached to the conclusion at four AM, that Hagakure was definitely a local cryptid.

He has no idea when he became ‘nice’ enough to converse with. Meaning something must’ve changed the opinions of him to everyone else within this week. Knowing that Superman had kryptonite made him appear more human- therefore did they know about his weakness that made him appear more approachable? He wonders if everyone else figured out he had a disability, and that they suddenly see him as human enough to interact with. Clearly they no longer find him threatening in spite of his abilities and skill. His spine clicks into a rod from irritation. He’d be less freaked out if them being… ratass diapers simply stopped with Mina or Uraraka since he’s ‘friends’ with both of them, but Invisi-girl and Ribbit? He realizes it simply gets worse, as he recalls how Tail-dude and the guy with like ninety freaking ripped arms waved to him in the hallways. He was never close with Shoji, and he knows Shoji was never fond of him (which is fine by him).

Meaning, if even people who actively avoid him like he's STDs are suddenly finding him the best conversationalist ever, then this is probably just a massive pity-party. There’s no doubt that everyone knows something’s up, something huge, to the point where even Yaoyorozu stopped glancing at him with indifference (but not displeasure, she’s much too soft for that), and actually with interest. He hates that the interest was spawned from the idea that he has an issue, since the it implies he's too fragile to continue without their mental support, that he became so different from his usually tough personality to take note of. 

He groans that thought, and hears a choked inhale from his side. Oh. He momentarily forgot Kirishima was there. "Why are you asking stupid questions?" Bakugou repeats his previous question, this time accompanied with a snarl.

"Um. It's just that you skipped class, and you never do that. And then you disappeared-" He replies with the same sass that a mother would. Bakugou squints, and Kirishima works his jaw, and crosses his arms. “Hey, don’t blame me for being concerned. We’re friends, dude.” Kirishima doesn’t take Bakugou’s shit. He knows that. In a sense, to Bakugou’s particular displeasure, Kirishima’s personality and insightfulness is quite similar to his mom’s , which is weird and annoying as heck.

"They forced you to talk to me." Bakugou groans. "Oh my God." Because who the fuck gave them the right to talk about him? And Bakugou had the sudden, snarling and ugly thought if they discussed him possibly weakening. "You guys were fucking gossiping about me?" He wonders if they even know about the deaf thing now. Because while he assumed they did, they all seem more concerned about his general well-being and not a specific disorder or disability. He allows himself to take comfort in that.

"What? No!" Kirishima scoffs, stepping forward, who despite his typical cautiousness around Bakugou, is still extremely laid-back and probably unaware of his ability to easily appeal to him without defacing an individual aspect of his personality. That’s something that he can appreciate. "We were just worried."

"Well, don't be." Bakugou wonders when they'll bring up his nurse's office visits. Todoroki has implied that it's a known fact already.

Kirishima eyeballs him, and Bakugou uncharacteristically hesitates, his eyes flicking up from his textbook.

"Bro, seriously, we’re mad worried.” Kirishima sounds less sympathetic, and more frustrated at the moment- and Bakugou figures that Kirishima probably sees this as a huge misunderstanding, and that they’re both wasting each others’ time from a miscommunication that could be easily solved. Bakugou digests that thought. So Kirishima probably does think something’s up with him, but doesn’t think it’s as bad as Todoroki probably sees it. I can work with that. “You know you can talk to any of us, right?"

He still scowls at that, though. While he cringes at confiding in others, a bit of him contemplates how much easier would it be to just do so.

Until it isn't. There’s no way that would end up easier. Maybe that would work in the beginning, but once they fully absorb that there's something hindering him- they'll unconsciously see him as a burden. Which is the biggest goddamn lie. He knows he's capable of pulling through- he just doesn’t know exactly how to do so. And he is pretty damn worried about this entire situation but like fucking hell he’ll simply give up because of it. But everyone else are stupid and would just idiotically tack on the label of 'vulnerable' across his forehead without putting faith in his abilities to make it through. And that's annoying. Because what the hell- thinking that he's deadass weak, simply because he might have some hardships.

Like. Rude.

(He pretends as if the alternate, also undeniably possible reality of him failing and truly becoming vulnerable, exists. He ignores the fact that his quirk hasn’t been activated in the past four days , leaving him more than just defenseless when paired with a lost sense. It's pathetic, really, when he considers how he's too much of a coward to force himself to start up his quirk because he's subconsciously scared of how it’ll affect his hearing, even though his hearing is inevitably going to end up as shit.)

They can't ever know about him going deaf if they haven't figured it out this point.

He doesn't think he could handle the annoyance of others viewing him in a different perspective than 'powerful'. He doesn't need pity, sympathy, or disgust. They're all dead-weights if so. They'll suffocate his need to power through from a logical perspective with their own emotional ones, and he knows that with those responsive, weak sympathy, they're laced with unconscious degradation.

They'll look down on him as someone who needs of their emotional support. Of their bullshit. Aizawa said that I can make it- I don’t need others . Then again, Aizawa isn't aware that he can't even use his own fucking quirk. He had to sit out during training earlier, not because he can’t activate his quirk, but because Aizawa didn’t want him out there without the headphones they ordered. However, rather than feeling annoyed at being forced to sit in unproductivity, he felt relief. Bakugou felt an intense wave of shame when he felt gratification at sitting out- he didn't have faith in his ability to currently activate his own quirk if he was told to train.

Bakugou waves away those thoughts. He can't let Aizawa ever know, but he also has to figure out how to get his quirk working again. If he knows, then that'll certainly change the school's opinion of letting him stay.

He reminds himself to answer Kirishima. "I know I can talk to any of you. Don't want to though." He replies heatedly, distracted by his thoughts. He crunches his pencil between his fingers, and Kirishima just arches an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Shitty-hair, fuck off."

Kirishima just shakes his head in mock disappointment, though he’s smirking. "Yeah, okay, fine. Wanna join us downstairs for a couple round of cards, though?"

"No. I'd rather die." If everyone was going to be a paranoid bitch like Kirishima with his stupid hair bleached with condiments, he thinks he'll actually grab the emergency defibrillator off the wall and fucking turn someone into ashes.

Preferably Pikachu, that moldy banana. Bakugou's hands instinctively drip with sweat at the recollection of that dick mop's arrogant expression.

"You're thinking about Kaminari."

"What. Why would I think about that shit stain."

"Your papers are literally drenched in your sweat. If I dropped a match on this table we would all die a painful death. And the thought material that you use whenever you need to produce a lot of sweat in an instant is by thinking of Kaminari; don't act like that wasn't a well-known fact since forever."

At the sound of that fucker's name, Bakugou barely retains his anger as he stabs his pencil into the cardboard cover of his textbook.

"Hm. I see you proving my point." Kirishima says with a disinterested timbre. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then!" He beams, utterly unfazed by the splintered pencil sprouting out of Bakugou's biology book. "We're going to be watching a movie later though, you should join!" He adds, before exiting his room that by this point, has practically became his own.

Bakugou stares, nauseated. He panicked when the moment called for "Hey, Bakugou, fuck shit up", and slammed the pencil into the cover. Usually, 'hey, Bakugou, fuck the shit up' meant he blew something up.

But he didn't. And he panicked, something that Bakugou Katsuki doesn't do.

This scenario should've never existed- a scenario where Bakugou semi-consciously represses his quirk, and is afraid of it. He hammered the pencil down in hopes of recreating a reaction that seemed like something he'd do, an alternate reaction to blowing something up.

Screaming, he takes the textbook and proceeds to flush it down his hall way's toilet.


He's a hallway above the common room of the dorms, and yet he can still hear the shrieks that he could identify as Yaoyorozu (and he can hear her uneasily but prettily laughs things off) or Deku (what a lil bitch). With his hearing aids, he can clearly catch Iida's panicked commentary that practically narrates everything that Bakugou can assume is happening in whatever horror movie they're watching. He listens to Kaminari, Mina, Tetsutetsu, and Kirishima's excited, nervous, but hopeful conspiracy theories regarding the supernatural that'll set the future of the poor girl's fate as she's apparently running away from some kind of monster, and all of them contrasts the rational endings that he can detect Jirou, Sero and Tsuyu conjure with Uraraka.

He angrily shoves the shredded mitosis chapter of his biology book down the swirling toilet.

He can hear the slightest and distant tinkling laughter, to the ugliest snort and jerking cackle so clearly. He's able to define and distinctively separate the noise away from other background noises, which he couldn't do normally without hearing aids while only a classroom's length distance away from the source of sound.

He hears another screech that’s most definitely from Mina, that’s loud enough that he’s sure he could hear even without hearing aids: “Jesus fuck , why are white people so intense the hell ya doing going into the basement- oh my God, Koda fainted-”

He smashes the lever to flush the toilet, and he imagines emptying the ugly and overwhelming emotion sloshing through his guts into the bowl, flushing down at least one of his problems.

Bakugou doesn't get jealous. And if he does, then he finds a way to not.

But he can't necessarily expect for this issue of suddenly wishing that he was in some way connected with whatever the fuck is going on down there to be solved by only himself, as he also hates everyone, and doesn't want to appear after giving out a firm 'no' to Kirishima, who most definitely told the others about his response.

He can't believe he's here, wanting to associate with extras. There’s no point in trying to befriend side characters- he knows that once he leaves the school, he will never get in contact with them again as he continues as the protagonist. He doesn't like half-assing things. Meaning, he doesn't do shit that wastes his time. If he's barely going to cross paths with these people in the future, then there's really no point in exerting so much effort into a relationship that's destined to fade, when he could be studying, exercising, or doing other things that'll have longer lasting effects.

He had that mindset when he entered the school. Meaning he really thought he was going to get through high school without having to interact with others.

He really thought that bullshit.  

He recalls when he deemed the notion of friends over minions degrading, and useless.

Musing over his relationships with everyone, both positive and negative ones, he figures that really, nobody fits the criteria of a minion or simple side-character considering their admittedly valuable impact in his ideals, mindset, and life. He hates that. 

Besides, the people he associates with don't really do things that he thinks distant people do.

Such as Mina, who constantly snatches his hoodies with Uraraka in tow, scrounging through his untouched school uniform’s ties and playing fucking dress up with his clothes. And shitty Round-Face has decided to reveal her true, gremlin self quite a while ago, and finds sadistic entertainment in making the three of them spar with each other until they're all sore after he pummels both to the ground. Oddly enough, she seems to like and appreciate him beating her into a pulp- either she's a masochist, or just loves the brutal equality.

But really, their sudden intrusion on his life is discomforting when he notes how big of an effect they left behind. 

Because the only girl he really associated with before those two was Camie, who he barely sees anyways and is also sorta new. The blonde always tries to plan meet ups with him during weekends, and somehow, got his number after their first introduction (he remembers her first real text as Camie and not Toga, with it along the lines of ‘new person, who dis'. She started spamming him with cat videos when he left that on read). She’s always sending him YouTube vine compilations that are titled with sketchy-ass names that really does represent America's moral (they're usually along the lines of 'Vines that keep me from ending it all' in all lowercase and interrupted with eighty typos and repeated letters). Apparently, she categorizes him as 'corrupt' enough to see weird videos that makes absolutely no sense without context (and if they do have context he still has no idea what the fuck they are). By now, he finds himself quoting weird American jokes (‘memes’, as Camie calls them) and even understanding them whenever Sero and Kaminari are referencing them (when those two realized he could understand the context of their words, they literally flipped their shit and started chanting 'do you the way' or something along those lines while following him, and it was actually quite traumatizing and painfully embarrassing).

He thought he would make an exception to show minimal affection to Camie, since she does have a pretty amazing quirk and is pretty damn funny unlike everyone else. He didn't think he was going to necessarily be remotely fond or not-hateful towards anyone else.

(He really thought that, he really thought that). Clearly, his standards are lowered since he started tolerating the rest of his class, too, with them not in a minion position, and moreso as worthy competition. Even idiots. Such as Kaminari

In the mornings, Kaminari always ends up in his room to avoid his floor's bathroom and use Bakugou's instead, even though he’s pretty sure at the beginning of the school year Kaminari found him unpleasant. He firmly expected their rocky relationship to stay that way. Now, Kaminari deadass lounges in his room like it’s his own (but Kaminari always brings snacks so he supposes he's not as useless as Google's second search page, after all). According to Kaminari, he needs to use his hallway’s bathroom since Aoyama has no sense of time-management, Todoroki sometimes forgets to lock his toilet stall due growing up having a personal bathroom as a kid, and Tokoyami always molts (especially in the heat), and had panicked one day when he shed way too much. He then attempted to flush his feathers down one of the toilets, which resulted in flooding the entire bathroom. (Well, Bakugou glances at the clog of smeared ink and paper that refusing to properly go down the toilet. He guesses Kaminari might not appear on his floor as often anymore).

Just in general, Bakugou is seriously disturbed by Kaminari's floor in general, due to the fact that apparently they never have toilet paper in preparation, and it's been a running gag to steal their toilet paper, and nobody on that floor knows the identity of the Toilet Paper Thief. He's even more traumatized considering how he's overheard Round-Face (that little shit), Headphone Jacks, and Yaoyaorozu (even more confusing since he's always associated her with 'responsible' and 'relatively kind' considering how she's able tolerate Todoroki's bull fucking shit) converse on what to do with eighty-two rolls of toilet papers apparently just sitting in Uraraka's room.

Also he really needs to start locking his room. Kirishima basically sees Bakugou’s room as a checkpoint, and drops him every once in a while like he’s a damn saving point. By this point, Kirishima has unconsciously determined that they have a mutualistic symbiotic relationship (Jesus, bio vocab. At that, he spits into the expanding glob of mush in the toilet) but Bakugou has yet to find a proper excuse to kick him out because at the very least, he doesn't accidentally grab the wrong toothbrush every time he decides to just die and not leave, and overall is very polite company and is willing to sleep on the floor when Bakugou wants his bed back.

Damn. He guesses he really did lower his standards enough to stop seeing people as acquaintances and more as friends.

A shriek of “Mineta let go!” followed by a string of apologies from downstairs reminds him of where he is: in the bathroom, pathetically trying to flush his rather expensive biology textbook that he sorta wishes he didn’t ruin.

Stomping back to his room, he blinks, his swarming thoughts momentarily halted at the sight he's faced with.

"Who the fuck gave you the right to be in here?" He isn’t sure why he’s even surprised to see idiots standing in his room.

"Kacchan, please." Deku wheezes exasperatedly, and Bakugou isn't sure if he's irritated at the lack of fear in the muttering stalk of crispy kale's voice, or how he currently doesn't have the mental energy to deal with a lecturing Aizawa since he'll surely bitch about Bakugou starting a future trial over second-degree murder (which isn't fair, because Bakugou being able to make it look like second-degree is pretty fucking good in his opinion, considering how it's most definitely first-degree murder if Deku was the victim-), but he doesn't feel like physically fighting them.

No one said anything against a little verbal abuse though. After all, it should be deserved: Deku shouldn't be in here. Same with Halfy. Because yes, while Bakugou does have a few people always appearing in his room, it's still a rare occurrence, and they're here for explainable reasons or they bribe him with snacks.

However, Todoroki isn't holding a bag of spicy Doritos (and even if he was, Icyhot’s going to need to offer a lot more than that to breathe the air in his room). And Deku doesn't even get the option of being in here.

"Dickweeds, get the fuck out-"

"Look. Kacchan, I'm sorry I know I shouldn't come in here without permission but we wanted to invite you-"

"He wanted to invite you," Todoroki interjects.

"Everyone except for possibly Todoroki wants to invite you.” Deku corrects. “We're halfway through a good movie, and we really want you to be there for it. It's a horror movie, something you'd probably enjoy."

"And they sent you two snowflake losers to convince me?" Bakugou replies dryly. He's already suspicious. He's always heard them having movie night or playing games in the common room- they've never sent anyone other than Kirishima or Sero to try and drag him down, and he always denied their invitations anyways. There's no reason why they'd decide to try harder now, especially with two people that everyone knows he actively hates- they really used their brains on this one, didn't they?

"Um. Well, you turned down Kirishima, so I guess they thought I-" By now, though Deku has by this point remained unfazed by Bakugou's temper (which is overall annoying), seems unsure, his voice faltering. He grins wickedly at that, and Deku’s expression hardens at the smile. He actually feels slight annoyance at Deku's sudden confidence- he deadass seriously thought that if Kirishima, one of the few classmates Bakugou would consider as friends, wouldn't work, then he would somehow convince him? Even Round-Face had a better chance. "Kacchan, look, we need to talk-" And Bakugou snorts, because what are they gonna do? Huge shit out?

"Yeah, about what, exactly?" Bakugou's mouth is twisted into a feral sneer of a grin, finding amusement in the floundering of others, especially since right now, he's just not having this shit.

"About your condition. Are you healthy? And if not, does Aunti Mitsuki know?" Is that a threat? If his mom hears that Bakugou’s “being weird”, especially from “angelic, sweetheart Midoriya” that Bakugou should apparently be nicer to, then he’s dead and taken out of school before he could beat up this shitfish. Even worse, Deku knows his mom has a soft spot for him and how she finds him a lot more of a credible source of Bakugou’s condition than Bakugou himself is. And Deku will definitely not hesitate to look him dead in the eyes and take advantage of that, staring Bakugou down as he holds up his phone and say with an adopted and sickly sugary tone: "hello? Auntie Mitsuki? Yeah Kacchan isn't taking care of himself." Bakugou knows the kid is evil enough to play dirty like that- Deku really grew from being a coward into just a massive prick in the fucking ass.

Bakugou's smile, now plastered there unwillingly from probably going into shock, takes a moment before contorting into a wild leer of anger, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Listen you absolute cow cunt-"

"Bakugou, we all know there's something wrong! Something wrong with you, and I know you hate me and I get that. But you're still my friend, you can’t make me choose my friends." Deku normally doesn’t approach him in general in hopes of taming the tension between them- meaning that he must seriously think something’s up if he’s bothering to take a risk that he knows would definitely anger Bakugou and undo whatever neutrality is purifying their toxic relationship.

Bakugou wants to fight him and make him understand they'll never be friends, that he would never tell Deku anything, that he doesn’t deserve to have Deku listen to his issues and that Deku doesn’t deserve to hear these things because they’re not close and they won’t ever be. In a strange way, Bakugou feels as if he does owe a friendship to Deku due to his past behavior but he won’t

He seethes quietly, and ignores Deku’s wildly flickering but harden eyes, and Todoroki’s undisturbed gaze. He hates the kid (both kids, to be exact but still-). Every time he merely glances at Deku, every single issue he found with child-Deku from years ago instantaneously screams in his head and gives him a goddamn migraine as he begins to scrutinize if current-Deku still has any of those issues. He always had a damn problem with Deku’s weird hero-complex: Deku thinking he’s a good person, knowing he’s a good person and actually being a good person. All that, Bakugou can’t help but feel as if there’s a massive ego, a superiority complex built from those traits even though he knows how stupid that is because Deku is naturally humble. 

But then, if he doesn't have a lowkey superiority complex of thinking he's a saint in spite of the shit he pulls, then it means Deku is simply just good , and that everything about him that pisses Bakugou off doesn’t count- it’s automatically cancelled because it can’t be Deku’s fault because he’s not doing it to intentionally provoke him or with a condescending mindset. But Bakugou, no matter how deep that understanding is ingrained to him, can’t help but see Deku as an airhead, as a major asshole who does shit things and thinks he’s too naturally good to even be doing bad. Even as a kid, this was what unknowingly bothered Bakugou- he bullied Deku because he was weak, a baby, since he latched onto the the strong while offering nothing other than stupid puppy praise like he's buttering up. He was someone who ripped off of others’ hard-work, off their power. He can't befriend a fucking delusional suck up, a cheat (he ignores how wrong it was of him to bully Deku, how he just hurt him based on assumption of another’s character. He ignores how unproportional his actions and troubling words were to simply being annoyed of Deku).

He wonders how fucked up his logic of Deku's character is, because he already and objectively knows that it’s not true. But, it still bothers him like crawling, inky tendrils shirking others who are oblivious to this possibility of Deku's personality, latching onto only Bakugou and engulfing his form and devouring his mind and thoughts because it's all he can think about whenever it comes to dumb Deku.  Yet, as he forces himself to glower Deku in the eyes, where the slightly arrogant hero-complex resides in his eyes, Bakugou cannot convince himself that there is any reflection of the image he conjured of Deku: the one who obliviously did shit because he was an arrogant bitch. He can’t see it.

He hates that he can’t see it even though it's all he can think about.

He groans, startling Deku into blinking wildly, and Todoroki just slowly looks over with disinterest. He hates every aspect of Deku, including his goddamn face.

Like Jesus who wants to stare at a hormonal asparagus.

“Kacchan, is this about the day of the kidnapping?” And Bakugou’s scarlet irises become pinpricks in a vast sea of bloodshot white, as if someone tased him. “You were very brave that day.” He continues. “If you suddenly becoming strange has something to do with that day, I want you to know that you don’t have to tell us. But...please rely on us if possible. Not for your sake, but for ours. You don’t owe us anything, but we want to feel helpful.” Deku says strategically, and Bakugou knows that this shithead is concocting something.

“Listen you bitchass, I don’t know if you’re trying to guilt trip me or some shit but I don’t care if you want to damn help.” And then, Deku pulls the weird look. The look that scales between adorably pathetic and pitiful where everyone coos over him, to hard and brittle because he’s done or determined. He’s finally tired of Bakugou, and Bakugou isn’t sure how he feels about that. Overall, he finds himself fairly fine with it- he doesn’t give a shit what Deku thinks about him.

But it’s another huge and drastic shift in the entire universe, since Deku being stupid was always a constant.

It’s like the entire universe is slowly shifting against me .

It comes extremely quick. The thought. It comes very quickly.

He doesn’t even know where the thought originated or why it decided to show up. But he stands, frozen and uncharacteristically silent as he muses if this is retribution. He used his quirk horribly as a kid, and perhaps this is why it’s giving up on him, why it’s ruining him. Maybe the universe remembers how he used his quirk as a kid. Because Bakugou sure does. He remembers each time he passes by Deku. He remembers each time they’re changing and he sees the permanent but faded scar splotching Deku’s back, looping over his shoulder and chest. He remembers how during a period of cruel disdain as a child, he unloaded his fizzled quirk that was weak from inexperience, close to that pale, freckled shoulder, and its explosive manner damaged farther than he meant for it to when he only wanted to threaten him. He remembers never apologizing, just staring in startled panicked, and leaving Deku crying and bloody in the sandbox.

So yeah, maybe as a child Bakugou has done some inexcusable things.

So clearly, this is why this is happening to him- the quirk he honed and took so much pride in and forced so much time and effort into strengthening and strategically using, backfired. The same quirk that he carelessly used to force others around him as a child, is now turned against its owner- against him.

He knots his lips, his eye twitching violently at Deku’s expecting and almost disappointed gaze. “I’m never going to tell you what I’m thinking.” Bakugou says lowly, which only triggers an onslaught of words said with a raised voice from the other boy. He attempts to pay attention, only to return to his thoughts.

If he told Deku he couldn’t use his quirk, there’d be nothing but disdainful pity shining from the pair of disgustingly bright eyes. Nothing but apologies tumbling from his lips, nothing but an expression of sympathy. He hates that. If Deku would just be angry, just say that he deserved it, it’d be a lot easier to accept.

He wants to spit in Deku’s face. At that, he looks up, ready to carry out with that threat, before blinking and cocking an eyebrow. "Oh. You're still talking." He suddenly interjects, realizing that being submerged in his thoughts had utterly blocked out Deku's voice. Which usually happens anyways, but this time it was unintentional- so it's different. "Even your voice is annoying, so now it's not only your physical presence that I ignore."

"Kacchan," and he can sense the irritation. First instinct: kill him because fuck that. Second emotional response: pride- he likes that he finally got underneath Deku's skin in a way that cruelly beating him up couldn't. Beating him up achieved nothing but a delusional sense of ego (not that his ego was undeserved though, like damn he worked hard to be everything he boasts about). This is different, this is evicting an emotional reaction from Deku other than stupid crying. "Get the hell over yourself!" +1 bonus points for making Deku swear . Even Todoroki next to him, who appeared to also be distracted by his own mind, nearly fell as Deku’s curse catches up with him. Todoroki whips around, his gaze sharp at Bakugou, as if accusing him for causing him to swear. He retaliates by plastering on a smug smirk. "You always do this, acting like everything you have to do yourself, get over your pride! If it's something dangerous please tell us, what if it gets you kicked out of the school?"

And of course he sounds annoyed, but he really is just simple and stupid Deku. Worried about others.

The satisfaction at pissing off the knockoff Veggie Tales character ebbs away at the realization that this is no fun, and rather, it's offensive. Deku is violating his boundaries and ignoring his wishes due to his pushing need to act all heroic. Deku's constant sense of heroism and natural sense of stereotypical masculinity had grown stronger since they were children to an irritating amount, to the point where it's more than condescending. Where unlike his relationship with Kirishima, who he knows views him as equal and saves him with that mindset, Deku will only gaze at him with burning want, as if he has no faith in Bakugou's abilities and rather finds his own more capable of saving him. Because even if Bakugou deep down knows that his intentions are genuine, knows that Deku just happens to have a stupid-ass obsession with rainbows, kindness and saving people and puppies- at the very least, Kirishima lets him save himself first, lets him make the decision who will save him, whose hand to grab, and how he wants to be saved. Midoriya just does whatever the fuck he wants based on instinct.

And it's happening right now.

Deku extending his hand and making Bakugou grab it, thinking that it's for the better even if Bakugou hates him more. Deku convinced himself that in the end, it's what Bakugou would prefer when it's really what he wants and not what Bakugou wants. The blond scowls at the observation, because he doesn’t need nor want the idiot’s help, he’s got this. He just needs to activate his stupid quirk and figure shit out, and everything will be fine. But last time you didn’t grab his hand either, you just said ‘stay away Deku’. And where did that get you?


He's tired already from all this.

And Harley Quinn is still here- he's forgotten about him. Bakugou stiffens.

There must be a trigger into Deku coming here. What did Todoshitty say? Maybe he told others about their weird note-taking relationship even though he explicitly said not to. Bakugou feels an ugly emotion burn through his gut because at the very least he trusted Todoroki to not say shit because of Aizawa. And he knows that if freaking Deku knows, then so does Glasses Freak, freaking Round-Witch, probably that grapejuice version of Aizawa student that Bakugou wants to fucking fight, and he doesn't even know why he's listing individuals when he has a sinking feeling that everyone in his class probably knows. After all, even the people he normally hangs with are concerned, and they must’ve heard it from somewhere.

And he has seen his friends assimilated with Deku’s more often than not.


“Leaving school? Like hell I will. If you’re staying in here, then there’s no way I’m not.” Bakugou scoffs. There’s no way they know about his hearing- not if they’re starting to think that he’s being kicked out. Unless if they’re beginning to figure out I’m currently quirkless - that’s different. His throat seizes for a second as he forgets how to breathe. “Deku, worry about your goddamn-self.” He wheezes.

"Bakugou, just promise us that if anything big happens, you will tell us." The cherry and vanilla soft serve drones, and though it sounds like some sappy ass shit that Deku would say, it's said condescendingly enough, almost like a dad scorning a child for doing something stupid, that Bakugou can totally believe it came from Half n' Half instead.

"Yeah, I'll totally spill all my feelings to you at midnight during a sleepover while we're up in pajamas and talking about crushes." Bakugou leers. "Get out, I'm not coming out to your movie night, I don’t have a goddamn problem and I don’t know why everyone’s being so fucking weird about it." He growls, his mind wandering to telling Aizawa to install locks that require individual student-identification or some bullcrap. Seriously for a top-rate school it's sort of weird that their dorm rooms don't lock from the outside, though it makes sense in terms of convenience and safety-precautions. "And I'm fine, and if I wasn't, you would not be even an option for me to confide in." He jabs his finger at Deku's chest and faces away from them to flatly ignore them.

"Yeah. Okay, good luck Kacchan." Deku says gently, and Bakugou feels his anger flare up at the tenderness and lack of sourness in his tone.

"Don't do anything dumb." Todoroki adds monotonously.

Now that sets Bakugou off. He pivots sharply on his heels, scowling and ready to froth at Todoroki, only to meet a closed door and no one else in his room.

He groans, and sits down at the edge of his bed.

He doesn't want anyone to know. He doesn't think he could deal with their expressions. It's not fucking fair. None of this is fucking fair. He trained so hard to get where he is now, and this bullshit is happening? And it's not like he can't figure it out. He knows he can, he has to- he doesn't have a freaking 'backup' plan or a second option of a future. He doesn't want an alternate option to being a hero.

(But even has he stormily wraps himself up in his blankets, deciding to sleep even though it's only eleven, he can’t help returning to the idea if going deaf, ending up too broken to even spurt up a spark from the palms of his hands, too broken for his own body to function properly in that manner, is requital. That it’s repercussion for using on Deku as a kid, for ruining the Symbol of Peace and All Might's career.

After all, a career for a career- it fits for him and All Might.

Karma is a bitch; but karma is a fair bitch.

At the possibility that this may be deserved, he burrows himself deeper into his blankets, as if they were a fabricated barrier against the outside world where the reality of that idea exists).


"He looks fine." Todoroki says. "Are you sure that it's not just a fever that caused him to not attend class?" He suggests. "They can take you out for a couple days." That doesn't explain why he needed me to write notes, though. While Todoroki can understand him copying it down to help him catch up for the days he missed- it's not like Bakugou's out now. It doesn't make sense why Todoroki needs to help write notes at the moment. Doesn't explain the nurse visits either. Todoroki chalks this up to a serious disease that would flush out in a week or so. However, he couldn’t ignore how strange that’d be considering how they have Recovery Girl, who could probably heal Deku by simply spitting on him. Not like he could bring this observation up to the others, though, as that’d require him to reveal their weird note-taking deal going on. And Bakugou would hate to hear that others know he asked for what’s technically help from someone like Todoroki.

He revisits his last encounter with Bakugou, when he and Midoriya were searching for Bakugou, and found his door open and decided to wait in his room. He really didn't want to check up on Bakugou especially after their argument in the morning, but he also didn't want Midoriya to possibly assume or say something insensitive that would set Bakugou off. Because while he loves Midoriya and understands that his intentions are all pure and motivated by kindness, he knows Bakugou, always the antagonist, could interpret his words as something else

"I thought that it could've been a really high fever too, mon ami ," Aoyama sighs, sinking into the couch that he decided to take up by himself as everyone crowds on the floor. "However, did we not assume that his quirk was drastically affected as well?"

From the ground, Tokoyami buries his beak into the bowl of leftover popcorn before drawling, "but his quirk's disappearance has been unconfirmed. It could've been temporarily affected by his fever, and we don't even know if it's actually gone. For all we could've known he could've just chosen not to use it."

"Bakugou Katsuki, not show-off his quirk AND pass up trying to beat my ass into the ground?" Kaminari gasps, his voice mockingly light. Todoroki flashbacks to how he asked Bakugou about his quirk during that fight. Bakugou....had an expected insulted countenance, but he appeared disturbed? Concerned? Traumatized? (Okay, not traumatized since Bakugou probably doesn’t have emotional capacity for that). Todoroki isn't exactly sure- he's not exactly the best at identifying emotions. He's also not necessarily the least gullible, because he has honestly no clue whether or not Bakugou was lying with his answer of being simply 'not wanting to'.

"True, there's no way Bakugou, or just in general any sane mind wouldn't want to kill him." Jirou murmurs. Everyone ignores Kaminari's theatrical wail. "And....I've been keeping this to myself for a while, since I didn't want to bring it up since it wasn't any of my business," she gnaws on her bottom lip, before continuing. "But I overheard a conversation with him while he was in Recovery Girl's office." Todoroki feels his eyes widen, and he jars himself back into a neutral expression. He didn't think someone else was going to bring up Bakugou's recent visits with her. It's fine if everyone knew he was in her office once or twice- but now they're aware it's been a couple and recently while he's returning to class, which is different. "I think he was talking to his mom probably over a phone since I couldn't hear her, and Aizawa was there too- I could tell it was him, and he was trying to get Bakugou to tell her something. And he responded with something like 'if I tell her she'll make me come back'." She mutters. "He said other things too, but I don't think it's something I should bring up. All I know is that whatever he was dealing with was bad enough that the possibility of him being sent home was there."

Everyone falls silent, as the movie drones on, forgotten in the background.

"Please don't bring it up! I don't want Bakugou to know I overheard or think that we're lowkey stalking him even though we kinda are because I think he's going to kill us if he does." Jirou says. Todoroki’s stomach churns nauseously. This feels wrong. They shouldn’t be discussing this, it’s just inflicting paranoia amongst all of them, and it’s honestly none of their business. He feels guilty just sitting there. And Todoroki doubts it's anything bad, it's just odd. All of this is strange, but he doesn't think the issue is drastic enough to result in death or expulsion (the latter is a definite 'no', considering how nobody's been expelled yet in spite of everything they've done).

"He already does want to kill us." Mineta says dryly. "That is if he's not going to die first." Jirou smacks him with a pillow.

"He might die, I don't think he's going to die die, you know." Sero says. "He seems normal, acts normal. I think he just might be hit with a quirk that can't be removed by Aizawa right away? Because he wasn't allowed to participate in training. Did you see him from the sidelines? I could feel him burning holes into me." He shudders playfully.

"Oh yeah totally." Mina snaps her fingers. "I really thought he was just going to come over and ignore Aizawa. Surprised he didn't."

"Is no one paying attention to the movie?" Shinsou whispers.

"Wait, Shinsou, can't we just have you ask Bakugou all our questions?" Mineta asks, only to be met with a slow shake of purple hair. At that suggestion, the biliousness swirling in Todoroki’s stomach simply compresses into a painful and cold cramp.

"Unethical, I'm not doing that even if Bakugou isn’t the most moral person out there. Do I want to, yes. But imagine when he finds out. Also if Aizawa-sensei ever finds out we used our powers immorally on another student, we'd be expelled." He renders. "Anyways, has anyone checked up on Koda? I'm pretty sure he's still throwing up in the bathroom after nearly having a heart attack from that serial killer jump-scare. And when is Sato coming back with more food?"

"Surprised we weren't expelled from simply existing, to be honest." Kaminari muses dreamily from the side. "Strange." Shinsou sighs, and Todoroki notes how everyone's too wrapped up in Bakugou being the topic of the conversation, that Shinsou's questions disregarding it are ignored. He seems annoyed. Or maybe just tired? Todoroki isn't sure. Shinsou kinda always looks pissed off and Todoroki isn’t the best at understanding others’.

"I don't think there's anything we can really do. We've all already agreed on trying to talk and hang out with him more, and I think he's okay with us," Uraraka sighs. "But the more we push about his health, the more annoyed he's going to get. I think he knows that we're already onto him considering how OBVIOUS-" she glowers at Kirishima, who chuckles nervously (Todoroki's glad that he didn't tell them about his conversations with Bakugou then. He's pretty sure that he's not the most....discreet or stealthy when it comes to social interactions). "We were being." She finishes sweetly. Todoroki sweats nervously.

"Midoriya was also very obvious." Kirishima pouts.

"This entire conversation makes me worried for our classmate." Iida sighs, standing up. "I need to do something." He says firmly, before marching off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Okay really. This entire conversation is pointless because you can't really do anything more." Shinsou starts, his voice harsh and raspy from obvious exasperation. He cranes his neck away from the TV, where blood splatters over the camera lens as the knife punctures through the main character's ex-girlfriend’s neck (Todoroki isn’t really sure if she classifies as an ex since she got back together with him in the middle of him cannibalizing his best friend). "I understand you guys care for your classmate, but by simply forcing yourself onto him and bringing up topics that he clearly wouldn't want to talk about won't help. Just gradually strengthen a friendship with him and see if he ever brings it up himself. If he doesn't then it's fine, because if you guys have a close relationship he'll enjoy your company anyways and it'll help him with whatever he's dealing with. If I'm to be completely honest, it just sounds like you guys are bored and want to know the drama of your classmate." He winces as he spouts out the end, but doesn’t apologize for his words. Todoroki finds himself appreciating this new enigma more.

"Oh, no you're totally right I love drama." Mina replies seriously.

"Yeah you have a point." Midoriya murmurs sheepishly.

"Yeah, yeah," Shinsou exhales, clearly trying to calm down whatever distress he felt for them. "Just. I don't know. Pass the popcorn- actually don't Tokoyami ate straight from the bowl, pass the hot cocoa, relax and enjoy the movie." He says, returning to the screen where the main character is slumped into the bathtub filled with his ex-ex’s blood. "Also, ten yen that the best friend’s cousin’s girlfriend is actually the killer-"

Almost instantaneously, voices erupt in outrage as they scream out their own opinion.

"He's uber hot and he has the personality of a sock, how is he not the murderer!" Shinsou clarifies loudly, trying to be heard over the screenches.


He's losing sleep over this. It's been perhaps two hours of him just simmering in rage rather than being productive or sleeping. Bakugou can’t believe his night is ruined because of Deku . Godammit.

Groaning, he shoves his blankets off and kicks aside the crushed alarm clock that he folded like a tin can out of anger earlier. Grabbing his textbooks (except for his bio one, that one’s dead), he storms downstairs into the common room, expecting no one to be up when it's one and technically past curfew.

Not like they have a TA. He asked Aizawa about it in their very first lunch meeting, and he was informed of a story that apparently the previous TA was only there to make sure that his classmates don't eat glue or stick Cheez-Its up their nose, but was fired when it was learned that he had knack for smoking and passing weed-laced goldfish that he made to unsuspecting students.

Bakugou bets his fucking balls that the story was completely made up and that the school just never assigned authoritative student roles out of laziness.

He still lightly sneaks his way downstairs anyways, just in case if Present Mic made one of his weirdass midnight appearances to see if he could raid their pantry full of snacks. He stops at the bottom fourth step when he hears a weird smacking sound that clinks through from the common room. He cautiously makes his way down, and he can see the faded light through the gaps of the closed kitchen door.

Jesus if it's Present Mic again-

Bakugou rolls his eyes and heads towards the kitchen, ready to call out that microphone fucker for stealing his spicy cold noodles (he knows it was him, why else would he have called in a substitute the day after a portion of his goddamn noodles went missing? Especially since [according to Aizawa, at least] he had to leave the day over explosive diarrhea? Bakugou knows that to a wimp his spices would probably sear holes into their stomach).

Therefore, he wasn't expecting what he’s seeing right now.

A startled screech from the other boy moves Bakugou into motion, as he leaps forward, clapping a hand over Iida's mouth. "Shut up! Do you want to wake up the entire dorm to whatever science experiment you have here?" He snarls, before releasing his hold when Iida gives a jerky shake of his head. "The hell are you even pulling here? A bake sale?" He seriously didn’t expect a student president, especially someone as uptight like Glasses, to be down here. At one in the morning, no less. The rules are that they're mean to be asleep by ten, but honestly, nobody fucking follows that rule. 

Lining the counters are decorated cupcakes, macarons, redbean mochis, cloudy cheesecakes, and even cakes iced in a western fashion. Dangos, candied strawberries and hundreds of sweet bread of various flavors and kinds stock up the island's table.

"Nope," Iida punctuates his statement with a sweep his arm, and Bakugou leaps backward as the cream on the spatula he's holding smatters against the metal table. "I'm just baking."

"You bake?" Bakugou cocks an eyebrow.

"Of course I do. I know to you maybe it appears too feminine or whatnot, but baking is really a calming experience-" Iida begins, as if he’s reciting it from memory, his shoulders stiff and jaw locked.  

With a lazy wave of his hand, Bakugou cuts him off. "Shut up. I don't care what you do as long as the food is good." And without asking, he dunks a finger into the soft cream lining a baby-pink cake, ignoring Iida’s startled and disdainful grunt. He swipes his tongue against his finger again. "Huh, Glasses, it seems as if you are pretty good at this shit, aren't you?" He murmurs. "Surprising. Didn't think your stiff arm could really do shit."

Iida is glancing at him curiously through his spectacles, and Bakugou narrows his eyes back. "What?" He asks sharply, not liking Iida's pondering expression that’s not emphasized with disapproval. "I can enjoy good food, okay? My mom would've whooped my ass if I didn't. And back to you thinking that I really believe in that bullcrap of baking being a girls' thing- my mom taught me how to cook since young. Said that I would've been an embarrassment to my own grandma's vagina if I needed a girl, or anyone for that matter, to cook for my own sorry ass." He scoffs, ignoring how Iida's eyes pop at his profanity. He talks quickly before Iida's unhinged jaw could start scolding him. "Besides, good quality food means good money if you ever decide to sell all this. Why'd you create this anyways?" He gestures towards the arrays of food, and to the oven that's lined with cookies. 

Bakugou used the kitchen daily, searing his own pancakes or stirring his own udon and using the same chopsticks to slap Kaminari's hands that always sneak to his food. However, he didn't think anyone else really used anything other than the toaster and the microwave, since those two are the ones that are the most commonly replaced (and surprisingly, all those times the appliances were on fire, wasn't because of him, but because his idiot classmates literally cannot cook or heat up food, and they’re always trying to microwave inedible objects because they're all fucking third-graders).

"Who taught you how to bake, anyways?"

"Myself." Bakugou glances up, startled. "My brother and parents used to throw huge parties because of our...background, and therefore my mom and her friends would start baking. My mom would at first let my bake, but then she said I should be hanging out with my brother and his friends instead." He explains simply. "So, I started watching a lot of videos online on how to bake, and my mom didn't stop me even though she thought it was a waste of time. I would buy books too, on how to bake." 

"Huh. Didn't take you as the type to do things that your parents didn't like."

"Well, I like baking. A lot. It helps me out. I guess whenever I feel really bad, I just bake lots of food and hand them out. It makes me feel better knowing other people are happy from it, so I don't stop baking even if my mother says otherwise." Iida says, as he scrapes the content down the sides of his metal bowl before returning to whisk it. "Or whenever I have huge tests coming up, I take a break from studying to bake."

"So you stress bake. Is that even a thing?" Bakugou scoffs, ignoring Iida's flustered chirp and blossoming redness on his pale visage from embarrassment. "Well, at least you end up with good food." Bakugou shrugs, breaking off a piece of the strawberry cake that he already stolen the icing off of earlier. He pops it into his mouth. It's not overly sweet, but has a light texture that Bakugou enjoys. He rarely has sweets, since he was focused on only supplying his body with healthy foods to grow stronger, and his mom didn't want to deal with cavities (he didn't either, since he knows she'd yank out any decayed teeth with pliers). But if this is what all cakes generally taste like, he'd have one every day. "Stress baking. Weird." He echoes sentiment, before shaking his head. He figures that Iida's expecting him to question what necessarily made him stressed, but Bakugou isn't Sachiko and he doesn't plan on being a therapist to anyone. He hates people and he hates their bratty problems that he doesn't want to get involved in at all. 

"So, Bakugou, may I ask a perhaps....touchy question?"

"Well, I'm already letting you talk to me, which seems already touchy enough," Bakugou says dryly. Which is true: he rarely even looks at Glasses' way even during training, since he's usually hanging around Deku and his weirdass friends. The only person from that 'side' that he truly interacts with is probably fucking Round-Face, and that's because she actively seeks him out. Iida on the other hand looks constipated with fear or disgust every time Bakugou glances at his direction, which is something that he meant to keep until graduation.

But here he is, holding a conversation with him.

"A-ah yeah." Iida clears his throat, and Bakugou inwardly smirks. Glad to know his fearful image is still upheld though. "That fight with Kaminari earlier...." Bakugou's inside smirk wilts into an ugly sneer. But he keeps his expression placid. "May I ask if something happened?" Bakugou tells himself that they're just questioning the fight because though he won't ever say it out loud, Kaminari is rather strong and improved vastly since his stay here, but is still weaker than him as expected. So the way the fight turned out would draw up some thoughts. But added with everyone questioning his health when it was just ONE loss, makes Bakugou uneasy. It feels as if they know something more.

"Yeah you may," he enunciates the last word mockingly. He bites his bottom lip. "I just got fucking distracted." He reminds himself that though to spit out those words causes a deep sense of shame to burn through him, to even allow others to think that he's capable of being distracted during a fight or not take it seriously, it's still better than saying that he has a permanent setback and that they could easily bypass him while he has to catch up. Yet, bitterness still spreads his tongue, dissolving the sweet cake's flavor from seconds ago.

"Oh. I see." Iida answers awkwardly. “It’s because as class president, I want to make sure my classmates are fine-” Bakugou’s mouth instinctively curls into a snarl, but Iida continues quickly before he can start shouting: “and also, because I care about everyone in my class.”

He couldn’t help himself: “that’s stupid.” he blurts.

Iida just respires tiredly with a smile. “I don’t think it’s stupid. I know we’re not entirely close, but Bakugou…I trust everyone in my class, including you. I have friends outside of this school, yes, but I do not trust them with my life as I would with you.” Bakugou angles an eyebrow challengingly. “If I was in danger, I’d instantly call for you guys to help me. We don’t have to be friends, but I still have a great amount of faith in everyone and you, since you are all great heroes.”

Bakugou looks up with a start. Now, he expected Wall-E here to be one of those many kids who’d accuse him of having villainous behavior and quirk. It’s not necessarily a random accusation, Bakugou can see where they’re coming from. Not like he cares, because fuck their opinion. But he didn’t expect Iida to necessarily say something directly against that. “Bakugou...we are very different.” He snorts and looks away. “But we still are in the same school, and we both want to be heroes. You are very intense and impulsive, and don’t...control your emotions or thoughts, and therefore have much confidence.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“If you want to.” Iida says simply. “But you want to save others, and you don’t hesitate to do so and your feelings are what prove that you wouldn’t jump in to save anyone. You are a reliable hero.” He answers. “So yes, I would trust you with my life because you are a good hero.”

Bakugou stays silent at that confession, because he personally doesn't trust any of these dipshits to be more powerful than him. He can't erase the mindset that if he couldn't save himself, then how could other people with their inferior set of skills and quirks- yet he's not dumb. After coming to UA, he can easily acknowledge others' powers and abilities because he needs to mentally record them so that he can make sure to outrank them later. And they did come, including this strick, uptight, stick-up-his-ass classmate. "I mean. You at Kamino." He drawls, unable to use the word 'save', and unwilling to admit that perhaps he could trust them to cover his ass. They could probably help him out in situations, but like hell that means he still doesn't top them. I just. Need to be able to activate my quirk again.

At that, Iida's chiseled and youthful features, always strict and precise, become lopsided, and Bakugou nearly faceplants into the cake. Because Iida's eyes appear strained even behind prescription lenses, with jaw set and his lips not in one of his smiles or frowns from his entire arsenal that are perfected from habit, but in a strange, oddly humanely wane grin: tight and tired. "Bakugou, I did not want to go at first. I wanted to leave it up to the pro-heroes." He says. 

Bakugou waits. 

Iida doesn't say anything else, his back turning at him.

"Wait is that it?" He snorts. "So? You still went after me, didn't you? I heard that you didn't want to go because of past regret-" He watches as Iida's jugular tenses as his jaw pulsates from being caught. "And yet you still went? Give yourself credit for that." Bakugou scowls, confused as to why Iida's being particularly specific about his actions, refusing to acknowledge what he's done in favor of beating himself up over a small portion of the entire event. Gross. "Anyways, I'm tired." Bakugou states in order to fill the sucking vortex of silence, since Iida clearly isn't going to say shit and it's bothering him. He tears off another piece of the cake as Iida turns around, his expression reforming back to its usual and habitually errorless structure. 

"Just take it." Iida says with a sigh, pushing forward the plate, and Bakugou smiles wolfishly, snatching the cake closer to him as he leaves. "Good night, Bakugou, and thank you for your kind words."

"Night." He answers shortly, slightly surprised that he even responded in the first place, as he storms back upstairs and to his room. Eyebrows scrunching downwards as he places his cake onto his dresser, fully intending to finish it now before it spoils, he muses over how dumb Iida is. 'Kind words'- he snorts. Those weren't kind words, they were simply factual. Dumb. 

Chapter Text

Shinsou is less than fond of Class 1-A’s rabid chihuahua, Bakugou Katsuki. He has no idea why everyone seems tolerant- or more accurately, seduced by his god-awful personality, horrific grin that never fails to remind him Satan does exist, and competitive nature that spawns his superiority-complex and immature, egotistical viewpoint. He’s also clearly ungrateful of his classmates- he’s seen how Bakugou easily brushed off Kirishima, who admittedly, Shinsou initially found dumb and clingy (then again, Shinsou isn’t necessarily fond of the normal closeness in an average friendship), but overall a chill guy, hard worker, a manbaby with cringey optimism that Shinsou doesn’t have the heart to dim, and someone who’s definitely undeserving of Bakugou’s bullshit.

This class must be full of idiots to find the hot-tempered blond charming and idealistic; while Shinsou grudgingly confesses that Bakugou has the power and perseverance of a hero, in the end, all of his motivation is fueled by overflowing arrogance and he’s blind to all his faults. He’s oblivious and insensitive to others- period. And if his classmates can’t see that, then their amateurish judgement of character should really be questionable as to whether or not it’s suited for the line of hero work.

Then again, he’s well aware that Class 1-A is full of capable heroes. He never really judged anyone individually from this class before- he simply just assumed everyone as ‘arrogant’ to the point where it’ll become their downfall. He did this by categorizing them underneath the only kid he knew from that class: Bakugou.

Clearly, he was somewhat embarrassingly wrong. Turns out that Yaoyorozu is intellectual and sweet, and not at all naive or snooty as her background, social class, and innocence implicated her to be, and he expects her to be a possible Big Three candidate. Todoroki, son of a celebrity, who was the biggest representative as a braggadocious brat next to Bakugou, turned out to be quite the level-headed kid with the personality and social-skills of a Roomba- so while he may be self-confident, he’s definitely far from the original image Shinsou wrongly presumed of him. So yeah, even though Todoroki looks like that kid who’d accidentally flash everyone on live TV while wearing All Might underwear, he’d still be a famous hero.

“Oh, Aizawa Junior!” Shinsou winces at the shrill disruption of his thoughts. Prancing up to him, Aoyama opens the fridge and grabs suspiciously unlabeled fruity concoction that has (hopefully) edible glitter. He grunts in reply, awkwardly stepping off the side. He recalled his initial avoidance towards him- he disliked Aoyama’s uselessly flashy mannerisms. Also, when they first met, Jeffree Star’s secret love child here, decided to comment on Shinsou’s eye bags to be as “big as a Louis Vuitton purse” and recommended an entire beauty regime at the cheap price of 19959.66 yen. So yeah, default revulsion to Aoyama. “ Mon ami, tu cava?” He blinks. “Are you okay?” Aoyama patiently translates. “You appear to be in deep thought.”

He doesn’t know how to tell Aoyama that he’s thinking about every single way he’s been wronged by him and how he’s silently planning his death, so he just shrugs and smiles coyly. “Just thinking that maybe this entire class isn’t too bad.” He grunts. “Certainly don’t plan on befriending any of you guys, but in terms of hanging out, it’s been a fun time.” He admits snappishly, almost humiliated because he doesn’t want them to think he’s worth his time, but they’re much too nice (perhaps nice to the point where it’s foolish) to hear such a thought. (He shoves aside the guilt from thinking that they don’t deserve him. Clearly, it’s been proven to be the opposite if such thoughts reside).

Of course, staring at Aoyama, he believes he’s justified in thinking the worst of these people at first. Then, adding onto the list of reasons as to why he wants to challenge Aoyama to fight him at the parking lot of Walmart, the boy has the gall to croon , his features shuttering as his eyelids hooded with a bat of his eyelashes. It gives the impression that he knows something that Shinsou doesn’t know, and that he’s telling him that. Bristling, Shinsou twists his lips into a scowl. “Of course, darling. But how do you find tout les autres amis? Everyone else?”

Shinsou hesitates. He doesn’t dislike anyone other than Bratugou, who’s a given because honestly does no one else see his damn personality?  “Everyone’s very loud.” He replies truthfully. As if confirming his point, Mina yodels from the other room. Her voice basically rattles the room whenever she does her weird hyena call that summons other idiots for battle on Saturday nights when everyone’s in the common rooms playing a weird and aggressive indoor version of Manhunt. Wild. “You didn’t think we’d amount to much, did you?” And Shinsou raises an eyebrow. He tends to be able to get a good read on a person as it provides him an advantage in manipulating his quirk around them, and while he understood Aoyama was bold and honest, he didn’t think he’d be so straightforward. He guesses he underestimated those glitterguts. Underestimating- he’s been doing that a lot. “I know that in this class, it seems as if only Todoroki, Midoriya and Bakugou are candidates for a hero. Everyone else, even Momo and Shoji are overlooked. Now looking at us, what do you think?”

Shinsou’s lack of reassurance probably confirms Aoyama’s understanding of an outsider’s view on his class. “Honestly, I think everyone’s thoughts on this class is that it’s full of idiots.” Shinso replies truthfully. “People like Kaminari and Bakugou tend to project that image. But….Bakugou has skills that dissuades everyone from talking about him.” Shinsou admits bitterly. “And Kaminari… is quite rational despite what his joking nature suggests.” Shinsou has a feeling that Kaminari is smart enough to rebuild a computer’s circuit-board if given a day, WikiHow, and a fidget spinner. “Though not everyone in here is extremely strong,” at least against him- Shinsou can wipe all of them out at any given. “Nobody here doesn’t have the potential of becoming a hero.” He says, envious for a hot second because his quirk easily is above more than half of everyone in this class’s, yet he can’t say the same for his own potential because of society’s perspective of him. Stupid.

“Coming from you, that must be average praise. Je peut entends la colère.”

“Yes.” Shinsou replies flatly, considering how he has no idea what Aoyama is saying when he decided to fall into the ancient language of the baguettes. “Anyways, I’m here to grab Midoriya’s juice, but nice talk.” While this talk has certainly been not uninteresting and surprisingly intelligent, it’s been two minutes of one-on-one socializing and he’s tired. Winding back his unnecessary snark in front of undeserving victims who’s been forced into his proximity takes a lot of energy.

“Ah, oui. Maintenant, I must get back to the game. I can practically hear the bloodshed.” Shinsou just nods in Aoyama’s parting, because he can hear Uraraka shrieking, and earlier, she threw Monopoly money in Iida’s face.  

Wanting to finish his task, he opens the fridge to grab the orange juice that Midoriya (the kid who latched onto him and wouldn’t let go upon their first meeting) asked for. As he closes it, he nearly runs straight into the Time Bomb.

Shinsou doesn’t apologize, since it’s not his fault that the kid was standing so close. Yet, to his surprise, Bakugou doesn’t yell profanities back, and instead, rolls his eyes and takes a step back to let Shinsou pass.

Raising an eyebrow at that, yet not wanting to prod the already strained tension that’s wound between them, he means to step away and leave the kid alone. That is, until he notices something.

“Where are your hearing aids?”

Now, Shinsou thought that their entire conversation was going great (or glaring contest, whatever is more appropriate), considering how he’s holding his damn orange juice, nobody’s dead, and Bakugou hadn’t screamed at him. He’s even trying to initiate a conversation (which looking back at it, is stupid ).

And yet, he’s not surprised that he flinched instinctively at a silver glint, followed with a sharp yet loud tear. In seconds, he’s staring at juice bubbling out of the puncture wound carved into the bottom of the carton and splattering onto the floor, with Bakugou glowering at him with a tight grip on a stained fruit knife.

Shinsou purses his lips distastefully at Bakugou and tosses the unsalvageable carton into the sink to wash it out before trashing it. He coolly rounds to Bakugou. “Sensitive, much?” He snaps. He really hates Bakugou.

It just seems unfair that Shinsou is labeled as a villain alongside this prick with a fragile-ego yet thick skull, simply because of his quirk, while this kid with his brilliant, heroic quirk is called one because of his attitude, and not because of his unorthodox and immoral quirk usage. He’s undeserving of that label, yet here he is, in the same boat as this kid.

He ignores the sudden desire to inquire Bakugou about how he feels about being called one.

“The fuck?” Bakugou’s words, not necessarily a shout (surprising), but rather, a harsh tone, when paired with his scarlet pinpricks for eyes and quivering snarl, actually gives off the impression of shifty surprise. Unexpected, and unwanted. Shinsou’s used to that. “The fuck did you just say?” He spits, he steps forward, and Shinsou, already visualizing this from someone like Bakugou, easily sidesteps.

“That you’re not wearing your hearing aids? Considering how you needed me to repeat that, I think it’s very obvious.” Shinsou shoots sardonically. “I don’t even know why I asked.” He scoffs, and is ready to leave before a warm and clammy palm closes around his wrist, and he whips around, his eyes blazing to perhaps deck the prick in the face, if not for Bakugou’s feral glare.

He scowls. “What?” He inquires shortly. He’s not intimidated, but he’s also not stupid. If he really does attempt a punch at this pomeranian on steroids, the kid will probably break his fist. Now, Shinsou knows he’s strong, but when he’s this close to Bakuhoe and currently has one wrist ensnared in his sketchy-ass, explody hands, he’ll probably end up with his limbs blown off with his face seared into mush.

“How did you figure out?”


“The hearing aids!”

There’s a frenzy, feral desperation pitching Bakugou’s voice high, and Shinsou winces, before berating himself. He can’t believe he was unnerved ( scared ) by the contradictory behavior and tone exhibited by Bakugou at this moment.

“You wear them, it’s not like I’m blind.” Shinsou retorts coldly, his apathy enforced by his self annoyance from being fearful of Bakugou’s stupid attitude. “It’s not like everybody else doesn’t know.” At least Shinsou assumes his classmates, who see Bakugou regularly, would notice. He only just realized two days ago, when he ran into this dysfunctional piranha in the bathroom, and awkwardly tried not to look at him while they both used the urinals. It’s human decency and common sense to not stare at your neighbor’s junk while taking a piss.

However, because he was Bakugou and incapable of doing anything without violating the public’s peace at least once, kicked the urinal loudly, and Shinsou had to look over to see if the little shit broke all his toes.

He didn’t (unfortunately), and instead somehow got the unwilling toilet to flush (to be fair, if Shinsou was the toilet he’d also refuse to flush for the sake of pissing Bakugou off), and stormed off. And throughout that entire fiasco, Shinsou caught sight of the hearing aid. Which surprised him, because something about Bakugou’s attitude and extreme self-confidence gives one the impression that he doesn’t have any permanent hardships, as if nothing challenges him, especially something like a physical disability.

But, after leaving the bathroom he promptly forgot about it. Until now, that is.

“Everyone knows? Who the fuck told everyone?” Bakugou’s grip tightens, and Shinsou glances down at where they’re conjoined, mildly disturbed by how Bakugou’s pale knuckles seemingly went as white as cocaine, translucent enough to reveal veins.

“What? I don’t know, I think it’s common knowledge? I mean they’ve been your classmates for like. Months now, almost a year.” Shinsou reasons. He really, really cannot comprehend how his classmates are attracted to Bakugou like bees to honey. He cannot be compared to honey. His personality literally tells Shinsou that he eats bees for breakfast and shits out their honey. “Bakugou, really, use your brain there.” He says indifferently, attempting to twist away his wrist, but Bakugou just fastens even tighter.

Shinsou wonders if he has to amputate his hand. He’s going to lose circulation. Or maybe Bakugou will explode his hand and therefore solve that entire problem with another one. Finally forcing himself to stare at the kid’s ugly expression to tell him to kindly let the fuck go, he hesitates. Bakugou’s jaw is working, his eyes fixated to the side and scrunching up in almost pain. Probably from thinking. Shinsou inwardly smirks in his head because fuck that kid.

“I got my hearing aids this week. Nobody should’ve known.” He finally confides, and Shinsou raises his eyebrows. An accident, then? Shinsou isn’t entirely sure why now, at the age of sixteen would Bakugou have a sudden need for hearing aids unless if there’s been an accident. However, he feels as if Aizawa-sensei would’ve mentioned it, or even the principal. After all, it’s not strange to assume something went off with Bakugou- the kid is a magnet for trouble, he’s heard the news and rumors shrouding this kid’s previous kidnappings.

“Okay. Great. Now, are you going to let go or do you actually enjoy holding hands with me?” Shinsou mocks, but really, hopes Bakugou would let go since his wrists are now uncomfortably hot, sticky and slick with whatever substance Bakugou secretes that catches fire like lighter fluid.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Bakugou grits out, his eyes blazing, and Shinsou just stares back, flattening his countenance even more than usual to give off his usual aura of unamused and unimpressed, just to the tenth extreme because once again: fuck this kid.

“I won’t. Let go.” He finally indulges, though his voice remains cold as he likes it.

With lips knotted, Bakugou’s features are painted in obvious discontentment, though he does let go, and Shinsou makes a show of wiping his drenched wrist against his shirt. “You destroyed the last orange juice carton.” He adds, as he goes to grab a towel to wipe the juice off the floor, though he plans on doing it after Bakugou’s left the room, so that he can’t take amusement from Shinsou cleaning up after his damn mess.

“Tch. Orange juice sucks ass, anyways. Drink water. It’s better for you.” Bakugou mutters, and Shinsou cocks an eyebrow at that. Because Bakugou doesn’t sound threatening at the moment, therefore is the kid attempting to offer advice? Awkward, but appreciated, but at the same time, dumb. Perhaps Shinsou’s not entirely masked as he assumed, because Bakugou’s eyebrows comically jerks, an exasperated and overly dramatic sigh escaping his lips. “You’re going to end up with cavities just like the giant one in your brain if you keep on drinking this sweet-ass shit.” He grumbles.

“Your entire fridge is filled with sweets, I literally don’t see a single vegetable.”

“Iida baked last night, and the rest is Sato’s shit.” Shinsou tilts his head- he didn’t know Iida baked. “The vegetables are probably in the back.”

Shinsou opens his mouth to spout out some witty retort, but Bakugou leaves the room before he could. Coward, he knew I was going to drag his ass , he scoffs, but opens the fridge to find some other juice in substitute.

He didn’t think about Bakugou’s hearing difficulties until later that day.

“School starts tomorrow,” Kaminari groans, flopping and smothering his face into the couch pillows.

“Tragic.” Jirou replies. “Maybe if you actually studied, you wouldn’t be in hell at the moment.” She advises. “Anyways, guys, I’m going to stop by the nearby Seven-Eleven, do any of you guys want something?”

“Redbean buns!” Kirishima screeches from the corner, where he’s currently being tackled by Sero for winning their previous game of Mario Kart. His classmates ignore his brutal murder.

“Get me a tea egg!” Sero shrieks before he’s body-slammed into the coffee table, and Kaminari winces because usually, he feels as if his body simultaneously shatters every one of his bones when he simply bangs his big toe against the leg of it- to have his entire body make out with the top of it? He prays that Sero’s tape can double-up as bandages for his friend’s sake.

“Four aloe drinks, please. Thank you, Kyoka!” Yaoyorozu chirrups calmly from the side, where next to her a hell has opened up since Uraraka is currently screaming at Mina who’s currently trying to headlock her for accidentally scuffing her newest pair of heels while playfully wrestling with Hagakure, who looks ready to stripping down quicker than a hooker and make an escape. Kaminari contemplates if they should start considering buying a kitty-bell for Hagakure- she’s a powerful one. He shudders, hoping that she hasn’t walked in naked on him selling weirdass information (not necessarily personal, just….weird) to the other UA students. He may be leading a double life as gossip dealer- he knows everything . However, Hagakure could definitely hear more gossip than him- his position could be easily threatened. He narrows his eyes.

“I’d like banana milk and any kind of chips- surprise me. Thanks Jirou!” Midoriya states, and Todoroki just nods slightly, and nobody else hanging around them says anything, implying they don’t want anything.


“Dammit, Kirishima.” Jirou dramatically rolls her eyes, and Kaminari snickers. God, he loves her reactions, even though he may be on the receiving end of more of her violent ones. “I told you they don’t sell those here. And none of us knows where Kaminari gets his weird stash of treats.” Kaminari winks expertly at the girl who simply glances away disinterestedly. Even Bakugou is constantly impressed by his collection of snacks, which buys him his stay in his room every morning. He’s the only one in this grade who gets foreign snacks since there aren’t any nearby convenience stores that sells any foreign goods other than the popular, Americanized processed foods- one would have to go deep into the city for that.

Along with genuine drama from a credible source (AKA him), he sells hard-to-get snacks behind the school. Ask anyone, they’ll vouch for his food’s quality.

“Sparky, you’re coming with me.”

“Anything for m’lady.” Kaminari replies to Jirou’s flat tone with a silky timbre and fluid pop of his spine as he stretches. “Ah, another snack run. Blasty’s gonna kill us when he finds out how much allowance we spend on junk food.”

“That’s what he gets for not cooking for us,” Jirou replies with a shrug. Other than Tokoyami who can make a simple meal of fried rice and Aoyama who lowkey knows how to boil pasta if he gets past the ‘boiling water’ part (he’s been known to burn water and throw out charred pots, much to Bakugou’s chagrin), nobody in their kitchen can get past using a microwave.

“Do you think that I could preheat food?”

“What? Of course not.”

Sticking his tongue out at her jab, he opens the door to their dorms, and lets her exit first, before responding. “No, I mean with my quirk. I mean, electricity. A regular lightning bolt is around twenty-nine thousand seven-hundred and twenty-six degrees celsius-”

“How do you know that-”

“Therefore, it could potentially heat up and maybe cook food. Maybe. I actually have no idea how much heat is required to heat up food that’s the microwave’s job. Do you think I could roast marshmallows and make s’mores just from my quirk?”

“I don’t know, but maybe it roasted your brain considering how dumb of a conversation this is.” She replies, and Kaminari whines dejectedly with a crooked smile. “So, you know the heat a lightning bolt produces, a surprising amount of Shakespeare though he’s an English author, a bunch of English swears and phrases, and actually pretty smart in certain fields, but not the basic understanding of geometry to know what makes a rectangle different from a square.”

Sputtering, Kaminari shrieks indignantly, knowing that his theatrical and unintelligent reactions does humor Jirou, and provide him a response since he never can think of a witty one quickly enough. “Oh, is that….Kacchan?” He squints, stopping the flail of his arms.

“What?” Jirou blinks, looking over to where he’s staring intensely at. “Huh. Yeah. His dandelion hair seems to glow in the dark.” It’s nearing evening, and there there’s a film of greyscale filtering their visions, which makes Bakugou’s blond hair appear platinum at the moment, vibrant against the dark backdrop. “Oh. He’s heading over to the main building? Maybe he’s finding Aizawa-sensei or something.” Jirou shrugs.

“No, he’s entering through the side door...near the Department of Support area.” He muses.

“Why? He hates visiting those people.” Jirou snorts. “I mean. He acts like he hates everyone anyways, but especially those people. You know how he rants about them being useless since they’re not actually on field of battle?”

“Yeah. But he’s stopped doing that. He’s growing soft and considerate, what character development. I feel like a proud parent even though he’d ask me to disown him if he ever heard me label myself as ‘Dad.”

“There’s a dad joke coming, I can feel it. Shut up.” Jirou intervenes abruptly, and Kaminari shrugs, because fair enough. “Yeah. I mean, Bakugou’s been pretty off these past couple days. Let’s just leave him alone though.” She shrugs. “Really, it’s none of our business, and, as Shinsou said before, we’re probably making him feel uncomfortable by talking about him behind his back. Let’s be honest, he knows when we’re talking about him.” She says, and Kaminari makes a noise of agreement. It’s not like they’re necessarily quiet about their discussions. “Anyways, let’s hurry before curfew.” She states, slapping him harshly, and he yelps.

As they step into the bright and cozily cramped store, Kaminari blinks to adjust his eyes to the sudden light that contrasts the dark outsides. He feels as if he stepped into another plane of reality, as it’s dark, quiet, with barely any customers about. Shaking off the weird sensation, he struggles to recall what everyone wanted, but decides to depend on Jirou for that, for now he’ll just grab whatever shit they’ll need as highschool students who all didn’t study for the test. He swallows nervously.

Jesus. The test. Aizawa’s gonna whoop his ass.

At that thought, he grabs eight more canned coffees. Hesitating, he looks to the side where a pink canister lays. He’s seen Bakugou drink this brand of strawberry milk before. He doesn’t know if Bakubro actually likes it, but then again, Bakugou’s the type of person who’d set shit on fire if it tastes like shit. With that fact being the deciding factor, he uncomfortably shifts the five chip bags and twelve drinks against one of his arms and reaches over to grab the milk.

His grip slips. Chip bags crinkle loudly against the floor, and tin cans clank loudly against the tiled floor. Hm, fuck. He winces as he hears Jirou’s shriek of disappointment from across the store.

“You know, I hated you when I first met you.”

“You think you’re the first? Get in line.” Bakugou replies lacklusterly, and at this, Mei simply gives a quirked smile. “Also, really, stop. Didn’t Recovery Hag give you everything she already knows about my hearing?” He bats away a suspiciously long pointy-thing away from his ears. The rod is attached to a machine that he’s half-sure is unauthorized by the government. At this, the girl pouts with a carefree, ‘what-can-I-do-about-it’ shrug. “I wanted to see how your natural temperature could rise so quickly- after all, you sweat for your quirk, right?” Bakugou narrows his eyes, but easily erases the suspicion of her being a weirdass quirk-collector like Deku, and rather, assumes she’s just...innovative, since she appears nothing but such as she leans in. Reflexively, he raises his hand to slap her goddamn face because personal boundaries , until she speedily retracts her body to zip to another probably unregistered and illegal device that she built herself. “If I can gauge your temperature, surely I have a quirk that could benefit from that, or even, create something that could accumulate your sweat and save it, so that you can use your quirk even while you’re not sweating or in an area that lowers your temperature.” She muses aloud, and Bakugou observes how she jumped from one idea to a totally different one, and figures she’s coming up with this directly on the spot. Admittedly, it’s impressive.

Still annoying, though.

“Ah, well, I guess I’ll worry about upgrades for someone like you later. Also, can you direct me to Legs, the one with glasses?”


“In your class? With the navy hair and strict with a rod-up-his-butt who’s a great test-subject?”

“Oh, him. What about him?” Bakugou questions.

“Need to check if he’s ever willing to try out another one of my babies.” She replies accordingly, though she’s now fiddling with another torture device. “Okay, so I got it. The specialized earbuds that Aizawa handed over, I decided I hated it and trashed it.”

“What?” Bakugou stands up from the stool he was slouching in. “You fucking what you crazy-bitch, I’ll rearrange your guts so you can’t shit out another word like you just said if you-” And maybe he is overreacting (he most definitely is, but that’s no one’s business- he’s currently hearing that the only thing that’s keeping him afloat as a hero was purposefully destroyed. And yeah, Mei isn’t harsh so she probably has a solution, but hearing those words anyways have easily lit up any anxiety).

“And created my own.” She pulls out a small, silver container. “I took apart the device after using it to see its mechanism and how it functions, and reinvented that in a more mobile device.” She states, opened it to reveal tiny plugs, that appearance-wise looks a lot like his hearing aids, but smaller and weirder. “When you put it in, it hooks around your ear. It’s meant to automatically latch on, so while fighting it’ll definitely not come off.” She explains, stroking the case creepily, before perking up, her eyes brightening. “Ooh, get this- this baby muffles any extremely loud noises such as your blasts. The volume range of what noises it’ll shut out can be modified, so I’ll just determine what’s the highest and loudest range of your explosions are, so I can change it to that. I added my own lil’ special in it too,” she explains, her words coming out as fast as a machine-gun, and to his disgust, she crowds in once more. This bitch doesn’t blink, and he doesn’t need to observe that close-up. Nice to know in the middle of my sleep-paralysis, this is what I’ll see sitting at the edge of my bed , he thinks dryly.

“Okay, so I did this myself because of course my babies are the best-” Bakugou is slightly weirded out that she’s calling something he’s putting in his ear a child. “But rather than just shutting out loud noises, it can just lower them! It can manipulate sound waves with the end result of lowering the master volume instead of completely shutting them out, so that while fighting you still retain your hearing without your own blasts affecting you.”

And Bakugou contemplates if he’s sick because his lungs are withering in spite of his swelling eyes, and for a second, he couldn’t breathe as he forgets how to, his ribs crushing his lungs as he sucks in a deep breath. Heat flushes his face at the news, and even more so when he realizes he was about to cry.

“Of course, you might have to adjust yourself to the drastic change of how you’ll hear your blasts forever, and considering how it’ll be a change from something you’ve been used to for like sixteen-years it might be weird; also by the way are you sixteen? How old are you?” she rambles, but Bakugou has absolutely stopped processing everything after introducing her contraption because all his problems are solved.

“Bakugou? Katsuki?”

“Um bitch? I barely know you?”

“Sorry, you just fazed out and I wanted to make sure you heard my rant about koalas-”

“I hate you a lot less than I did five seconds ago?”

“Huh? Ah- well, a lot of people do love me after hearing my koala vent-”

“Just give me the damn hearing aids.”


“Wait, you can’t go yet!” Now that Bakugou already gotten what he wants, he really has no will to stay, especially on the eccentric Fruit Rollup’s command. However, considering that he owes her something , and that he certainly hates owing people, he might as well wait. “I need to run tests on you and make sure the device is working properly.” She chirps, clutching a clipboard. “So, we should head to the training wing and let you blow up some stuff and I’ll report how well the aids work, and their reaction time to your explosions and loud noises, as well as if it needs a recharge time. Baby shouldn’t have any reaction time and should be instantaneous to minimizing or shutting down outside noises, but I need to make sure it’s guaranteed!” She says excitedly, bouncing ahead.

Bakugou freezes, before discreetly rolling back his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the tension anchoring his spine into a rod. He has nothing to hide- after these aids, his confidence has definitely returned as well as his will to continue as a hero (not like he’d ever fucking admit it, but these past couple days he’d been swarmed with a nauseating fear and anxiousness for his future and just at everything), so his quirk should return just fine.

“Yeah, sure, let’s get this over with.” He answers gruffly.


Wow his past-self was dumb as fuck because nothing’s happening right now other than his previous elation wilting as his past and common visitor of anxiety and fright sloshes through his veins. “Huh, you’re sweating just fine…” Mei muses, and snatches his hand before he could jerk backwards from her leaning in. Yanking back his hand, he has half the mind to backhand her with a quick flip of his hand, but he just grits his teeth and swallow his irritation at her invasion of his personal space. “It’s been five minutes, surely your quirk doesn’t require a startup time? You seemed to have constant control of your quirk after all,” and Bakugou realizes she’s observant in the way Deku is and wow is that just his goddamn luck.

“Wow, that’s...a  lot of sweat.” She says, but her timbre is amusement rather than disgust. However, to his disgust, she licks her hand.

“The fuck?” He snarls, disdained and momentarily distracted from his palpating heart and twisting gut.

“Hm.” She hums, before giving another tiny lick to the pad of her thumb. Then she crinkles her nose. “Toasty.” She notes out loud. Acknowledging his squawk of revulsion, she expounds her actions: “Oh, it’s just that according to the file Aizawa-sensei gave me, you sweat a substance similar to nitroglycerin. I assumed it might have the quality of smelling and tasting sweet, like burnt sugar.” She explains. “Have you ever considered sticking your finger up your butt for the sake of medical reasons?”

“What.” If he wasn’t aware of her being slightly insane and in a constant state of inebriation who doesn’t understand the definition of ‘privacy’, he might’ve cracked her neck. But he was close to doing so even knowing her.

“Nitroglycerin, when applied rectally can help-”

“I got it, no thanks. And don’t ever ask that again.” At this, Mei just shrugs with an air of ‘your-loss’, and he curls his frown into an open snarl, but she takes no notice.

“Maybe your quirk is currently suffering from lack of use?” He freezes, his anger dissipating in the face of the bigger problem. “Perhaps it’s a withdrawal thing. Has that ever happened? As in due to your abstinence of quirk usage, it just needs a bit more time to start functioning properly?” She says. Bakugou would love that explanation to be true, but he also knows it’s not the ase. He’s tried to use his quirk multiple times over the past couple days- ergo it’s unfortunately not as simple as that. “I’m not entirely sure, but I would love to figure out how this works!” And her eyes glitter predatory, which is weird considering how he’s taller than her, she looks like a motherfucking Chansey from Pokemon, and her eyes seem to vibrate like she’s on crack.

“I’m going to fucking stop you there before you start humping my damn arm,” Bakugou plants the heel of his palm onto her forehead, and shoves her away. “And I’ll come back another time to test out my explosions.” He states. Pausing before he leaves, he considers the idea of thanking her- she’s chill enough to overlook it so he’s not in danger of her taking it into heart, and honestly, she basically saved his ass (not like he’ll ever say it like that to anyone, she merely just assisted if anyone asks) from inevitable doom. “Thanks for this fucker, by the way.” He tosses in nonchalantly.

“Yeah, no problem bro, but you better return so that I can check it out in action! Gotta make sure my baby is working properly and in good hands. If I find out you’re treating her bad I’ll find you,” she says cheerily, her eyes glittering menacingly. Snorting, he just struts out.


It's dark, he can't see for shit, and it's technically freezing and an awful time to be out- but Bakugou still lets out an uncharacteristic scream of happiness (that he plans to vehemently deny its existence) into the empty night.



Chapter Text

“You know this song? I never thought you’d actually be into this sort of music.” Tokoyami says skeptically, and Todoroki blinks in response. This is weird. Tokoyami knows he’s not necessarily popular. In fact, he applied for UA with the mindset that he’ll make distant acquaintances that he’ll occasionally hang out with, but overall spend most of his time locked in his room. Basically a repeat of middle school. He knows that he could probably get more friends if he indulged time in following trendier things, if he put effort into being a bit more outgoing, if he just...acted a bit less weird - but honestly he finds himself content being alone.

Now he feels as if he’s been adopted by a doghouse and surprisingly, not overstaying his welcome because people like him. However, he didn’t expect for anyone to step into his room. Ever.

After all, though he himself enjoys it and might be a bit oblivious to when he’s acting ‘strange’ as other middle schoolers told him, he knows that his skull-decorated room with seance candles might be a bit off-putting.

Yet, Todoroki is here, (someone that even after he befriended Kouda and a few others, still didn’t believe he’d ever really associate himself with since Todoroki is that cool, popular suave kid that he’d never really get on an intimate level with) mouthing along to his cheesy MCR soundtrack that he never thought would see the light-of-day (especially in front of any classmate). “You...seem very fixated on my rock posters. Are you sure you don’t want one?”

“No, it’s fine.” Todoroki replies, though his eyes remain glued onto the human-sized poster of Andy Biersack’s blindingly pale abs (another meme that people associate with the emo community. Tokoyami would consider Andy on par as ‘gothic, i’m so unique uwu’ on the internet. Really, this poster is the main reason why he was never going to let anyone into his room. Clearly, it failed at its job).

“This is weird. I want to go.” Shinsou mutters from his bed, and Tokoyami feels himself deflate slightly at the notion that his new companion may not find this afternoon as fun as usual. “But, I like these.” He points to the eighth crumpled grape juice box that Shinsou sucked the life out of. “So I guess I’m staying.” He finalizes, and Tokoyami inwardly beams. “Now, Prince of Endeavor-” Tokoyami averts his eyes from Todoroki’s sudden bristle. There’s this mean tension between those two that Tokoyami just cannot dissipate, in spite of how they seem to not harbor any real hatred for each other. “I didn’t know you were into the emo community.” He says mockingly, and wow does Tokoyami not want to be a part of this. He just wanted to make friends. He nervously takes a sip from his juice box.

“I happen to like this sort of music. The singers don’t take shit from their old man.” Todoroki suddenly says, crushing his box with sudden viciousness that juice spurts out from the hole and floods over his knuckles. Tokoyami nearly chokes on apple juice. “Anyways, Tokoyami, I finished this book. May I have another?” He holds up the one that Tokoyami lent. Nodding, he reaches to his ebony shelf and grabs another fantasy novel to hand over.

“Same.” Shinsou says lazily from the bed he was lounging on, and Tokoyami grabs another historical book for him to read. “Also, you two close with the resident time bomb?” It takes Tokoyami a moment to realize he’s talking about Bakugou, after he got over his momentary relief from realizing that Shinsou’s willingly starting a new conversation, and consequently dissipating whatever awkward taunting one he created seconds ago.

But, Tokoyami isn’t entirely sure if he likes where this topic might end up going. Now, Tokoyami finds Shinsou cool- he really does. However, he’s well aware that Shinsou is rather judgemental, something that he won’t stand for, but also won’t confront him on until it gets too far. And the thing is, Bakugou’s personality offers a lot of opportunities for judgement, and Tokoyami isn’t sure whether or not he’d avert them. Because honestly, whatever Shinsou might snitch Bakugou on could very well be deserved, since his attitude is rather controversial for rational reasons. Yet, Tokoyami can’t deny that the blond is impressive and indirectly motivational in his own way. Though his personality is distasteful at times, there’s something enrapturing about Bakugou that Tokoyami is surprised by. Bakugou’s efforts shouldn’t be ignored, and Bakugou simply doesn’t let it be ignored either.

He waits uneasily, unwilling to answer to Shinsou in case if it appears as consent to a whole line of insults. But Todoroki, ever the oblivious, does. And though Tokoyami is glad that the two could possibly bond over their mutual disdain for Bakugou (it’s not necessarily a secret that Bakugou likes to call Todoroki out over the littlest things, which in turn makes Todoroki probably the president of his flame club), he doesn’t want to be dragged into a bashing either. Heck, he doesn’t want to witness one in general. “Yeah, what about him?” Todoroki inquires.

“What’s with the hype around him? Like, it seems as if recently everyone’s been talking about him being sick or something?” Tokoyami inwardly releases the breath he was unconsciously holding.

“Oh. It’s because he’s Bakugou, and he randomly disappeared from class a couple days ago, and that’s not Bakugou-behavior because he’s a creature of habit.” Tokoyami stops for a moment, and stares at Todoroki’s description, before squinting and sliding his eyes to the side. It’s as if he’s describing a housecat in the format of a nature documentary. “And then the next couple of days, he started being weird. Aizawa-sensei wouldn’t let him participate in training other than one time right after he came back from his weird absence, but that time, he got beaten by Kaminari. Who’s a formidable opponent, but someone who would still lose against Bakugou.” Another release of a breath he unconsciously held- Tokoyami nearly gnawed off his straw from unsettling anxiety. Because yeah, Kaminari is the resident dumbass whose strength is questionable, but even the label ‘dumbass’ has always seemed too harsh in Tokoyami’s eyes, and he believes that Kaminari may seem like small fry to Todoroki, that doesn’t necessarily mean he isn’t strong or skillful with his quirk. Tokoyami really didn’t want to fight Todoroki on anything, especially considering how these past thirty minutes have revealed a rather chill side (no pun intended) of the kid- but he didn’t want to endorse any negative gossip, even over Kaminari who he barely knows. The kid even lets him plug his phone charger into his mouth whenever there’s not an outlet available, so really, Tokoyami guesses defending him would have to be an obligation. Thankfully, Todoroki isn’t the snide type (excluding Bakugou, who’s the common outlier in most of these situations).

Todoroki blissfully continues talking. “And what’s stranger, is that Bakugou never used his quirk against Kaminari. It’s also somewhat suspicious that he stopped hanging out with even Kirishima, who’s his best friend, or like. His only friend I guess. And like, during lunch, we never see him. We’ve also seen him in Recovery Girl’s office, even if he wasn’t training or injured.” He explains, sounding very much like he’s presenting a formal presentation.

“Wow. What a conspiracy theory. It seems as if Bakugou just has a simple issue? Nothing to get worked about over.” Shinsou shrugs. “Maybe he has a checkup over his hearing,” he mutters.

“His hearing?” Todoroki questions, and Tokoyami is silently curious as to what brought on such a specific topic.

Shinsou just shrugs at that. “Like a regular checkup. Over hearing, physical form, vision, that sort of thing.” He says with a flippant wave of his hand. “Like a monthly checkup.”

“We get physicals together twice a year, Bakugou wouldn’t have an individual session since he didn’t miss his previous one, and our next one is in months.” Todoroki replies with a shake of his head. “It’s something serious I bet. But at the same time, probably not too bad. But Jirou did say that she heard Bakugou mention him possibly being pulled out from school.” At that, Shinsou sits up from his bed.

“Jirou-san is that girl with the earlobes, right?” Shinsou murmurs. “Huh. I guess that is strange. But he’s Bakugou, probably wouldn’t appreciate people caring or pitying him,” he shrugs indifferently, though there’s a malicious leer in his tone. Tokoyami pretends as if he didn’t detect that. Tokoyami also takes a moment to realize the lack of honorifics attached to Bakugou’s name from Shinsou, in comparison to the boy’s respectful use of them with Jirou. “How do you guys feel about him?” Shinsou inquires, though surprisingly, Tokoyami cannot interpret any malice laced in his tone- simply just curiosity.

“I don’t dislike him. Well, maybe I do, at least  more than I like him.” Todoroki says. “He’s ambitious and a good opponent, he just has an ego that will end up as his downfall. Also too disrespectful for me to not be annoyed at.”

“I think that too, but I really do admire him.” Tokoyami replies. He’s envious over Bakugou’s self-control. One might take a look and assume that Bakugou lacks control over anything when it concerns himself, as he seems to be impetuous, hot-headed and unthinking. In reality, he showcases strategic intelligence that though may be disrupted by impulsiveness endorsed by overconfidence, is still there. He also has an unrelenting influence over his quirk, exhibiting admirable control over it as well as quick and honed use over it. Explosives must not be easy to deal with, and yet he handles his quirk with such grace and trust in himself. Tokoyami might be clear-headed and have more power over suppressing his emotions unlike Bakugou, who’s sensitive and emotionally all over the place, but his quirk’s conscience is the true alpha when it comes to them. He wishes he has the same confidence and same leadership (albeit less dictatorish) as Bakugou in terms of his quirk.

Maybe he isn’t as emotionally capable as he prided himself in. If he really was as clear-headed as he assumed, then why does his quirk’s own will cloud his judgement and his actions?

He gnaws on his straw a bit harder at that sinking revelation. Only if I was a bit stronger . “Yeah, I must give credit to Bakugou’s power and all his effort he put into perfecting it.” He says, ignoring Shinsou’s drilling gaze that while holds no judgement, still has uncomfortable clarity that reflects omniscience. Todoroki is just dumbly staring at his book, contemplating the meaning of life, death, and probably caffeinnated soba.

“Hm. You’re a good, honest and pure bird, Tokoyami.” Shinsou compliments disheartedly. “Bakugou, what a curious guy. Doesn’t he get called a villain, quite often?” He asks, and Tokoyami glues his beak shut from defensively saying that he could say the same to Shinsou. Because he does like Shinsou, and he doesn’t think Shinsou even deserves such a comment. “How does he react to it?” And Tokoyami suddenly understands the root of his investment in this topic.

“He doesn’t care. He’s Bakugou Katsuki, and everyone’s opinion is irrelevant to him. His ego at least blocks out any hate.” Todoroki responds, still staring at his book with the vortexing inkiness swirling in the depths of his eyes, and Tokoyami wonders if 2010 emo MCR phase is finally getting to him. Because really, Todoroki’s sudden edginess after entering his room just grabbed Tokoyami by the feathers, threw black coffee at him and screamed about how he likes to sit in cafes wearing black boots and too much wet mascara while crying about daddy issues. “Also, I think….those comments spur him to become a hero. Just in general, Bakugou loves to prove everyone wrong and show them up- so in a way, such villain comparison-comments are just fuel to his motivation to become the greatest.”

“Huh.” Shinsou blinks. “Unbothered.” He sums it up. “That does make me want to like him. I hate it.” Tokoyami snorts.

“Okay, me too? I really thought at the beginning of this year that I would not remotely like him.” Todoroki sighs sorrowfully. “I really thought that, huh.” Tokoyami wonders if Todoroki is aware of how invested was with Bakugou- because this kid literally tossed his career on the line to chase after Bakugou during the previous and unspoken kidnapping. He risked expulsion for the explosive classmate, who at that time wasn’t even particularly close or nice to him. As he concludes the value of Todoroki’s relationship with Bakugou, Tokoyami freezes because it can cause severe consequences. He wonders if Todoroki is even aware of it. Because sure, Tokoyami wouldn’t find it that weird to value friendship and heroic values, for example if they’re involved in a situation with someone like Midoriya for example, but with Bakugou , especially if you’re Todoroki Shouto, who’s in constant opposition with him? It appears as if even the resident Ice Prince is drawn into Bakugou’s circles without being aware of the sinkhole he’s trapped in that’s called ‘friendship with Bakugou’. “There’s just something about Bakugou that’s interesting even though he actually has a bullyish and crude personality.” Todoroki continues to muse.

“Exactly. Jesus, his ego honest to God pisses me off, but there are certain and unexpected aspects to him that I can’t help but respect even though his arrogance makes him undeserving of any sort of praise.” Shinsou grimaces. Tokoyami silently acknowledges his prayers and condolences to Shinso Hitoshi, the newest victim of Bakugou’s sinkhole. Clearly even he wasn’t strong enough to not get obsessed over him.

“I hate thinking about him,” Shinsou clicks his tongue. “Hey, Feathers.” Tokoyami grunts in acknowledgement. “Pass me another box?” And if Tokoyami’s hard and brick beak magically became malleable, it would form a smile.


“What the fuck do you want?”

“Everyone thinks you’re dying of a disease, you know.” Bakugou cocks an eyebrow towards Shinsou, who seems utterly displeased into running into Bakugou. And Bakugou expected the shitstain to just continue walking like a normal human being, but no , he matched pace with Bakugou, who automatically stopped jogging because he’s not making friends today. “I was talking to your classmates-”

“You can call them your friends, you know.”

“They’re not my friends.” Shinsou snaps.

“Same here.” He replies coolly. “So they have no right to talk about me like they care, it’s inconsiderate of them.” He rolls his eyes.

“Well, they think you’re dying for one.”

Bakugou purses his lips, because honestly, these couple days, he might as well have been. “Unfortunately for them, I’m not.” He answers dryly.

“But I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh my God, why are you still here.” Bakugou contemplates outrunning this scrawny fuck. The kid looks like he doesn’t even step out under the sun- he could totally knock him out and just run.

“I’m trying to help .” The boy replies, frustration laced in his words. Bakugou automatically stiffens at the word ‘help’ because that’s all everyone’s been talking about- all everyone thinks that he needs when he doesn’t . The only person he’ll remotely think about accepting any sort of aid from is Aizawa, and as much as the two look alike, the underlying difference of Shinsou being an incorrigible jackass with too many insecurities that built a hard, ANNOYING persona that Bakugou doesn’t want to deal with exists. Therefore, the contrast is that Aizawa isn’t an insecure mess, just a mess (thanks for coming to his TedTalk). “Your friends are concerned and I’m thinking it has something to do with your hearing aid, since you said you just got it this week, when they started being this way.”

“It doesn’t matter! I got the hearing thing fixed, they can stop fucking sticking their noses into my business!” Bakugou growls, because they don’t ever have to know. They don’t need to know and frankly, they have no right to know. They’re not his mom, and they’re not close enough- who do they think they are? Even if they label themselves as his friends, it doesn’t mean they’re of any value to him and it’s not fair that they get to choose otherwise without his opinion. What arrogance possessed those dumbasses to think otherwise deeply bothers Bakugou.

And Bakugou, who’s tired of his classmates’ bullshit, tired of everything and everyone, has an urge to spill all those out to Shinsou, to just word vomit all over him.

And then he remembers himself, and locks his jaw, screwing it tight.

“It’s more than that.” Shinsou suddenly says. “They said you haven’t used your quirk.” Bakugou’s spine convulses before snapping into a straight line, taunt and stressed. “What’s up with that?” And though it might’ve just been Shinsou’s normally flatlining tone that lacks any hitches, it was still taunting. Maybe it was simply warped in his Bakugou’s head, but through the sudden storm of anger raining across his common sense, he found that he didn’t care, and honestly, he finds it easier to deal with the idea of Shinsou being an asshole.

And in a sudden, with a burning hatred and annoyance for the kid, Bakugou momentarily didn’t doubt himself, didn’t doubt his abilities and simply responded to Shinsou’s brimming attitude with muscle memory of an explosion.

Shinsou automatically leaps back, and Bakugou, to his disgust, did as well, recoiling as a familiar sensation cracks against his palm, heat engulfing it.

He takes more notice of the explosion’s noise, than anything else. Something that used to be just a background noise, is now the only thing that he can focus on.

“Tch. I get it, you can use your quirk, wasn’t that a bit over the top?” Shinsou replies smoothly, vexation flickering across his features.

Bakugou doesn’t answer, just stares at his hands, where wisps of smoke curls daintily from his calloused palm. Something as warm as his quirk pulsates within him, and he bites the bottom of his lip to prevent a relieved yet exasperated sob (he’s had a really trying week) from escaping. He didn’t mean to reply with a blast, but for a millisecond, he expected one- he demanded one. For just a second, when his entire week’s issues, his anger, his anxiety, his sloozy guard eased from sleep-deprivation, apathy and tiredness all cooperated to vanish any trace of unwillingness from unleashing an explosion, he released an expected blast.

And Bakugou needs to do that again. He claps eyes with Shinsou’s wary ones.

So, before he can regret his next words, he says: “wanna spar?”