Chapter Text
The burn in his arms felt good, hands gripping the rings tightly as he held his body in the iron cross formation. His view from high above the mat gave him a perspective many never achieved. From the moment Katsuki started tumbling at four years old, he knew this was what he loved. And when he watched All Might’s final Olympic appearance on television as a little kid, he decided right then and there, he would be Japan’s next best hope for an Olympic gold medal. With a few swings of his body, he built up enough momentum for a double layout dismount, sticking the landing with a sharp smack of his feet on the blue mat.
“Very good, Young Bakugou!” the elderly blonde clapped from the sidelines. “Your form gets better every day.”
“I wouldn’t be the best in the country two years in a row if I didn’t continue improving,” the young gymnast responded. “I ain’t gonna slack off ever, and especially not in an Olympic year.”
“I wouldn’t ever dream of telling you to slow down,” his coach laughed. Katsuki walked over to the bench to grab a drink. Even as he was heading into his junior year at Yuuei University, the blonde still hadn’t gotten over the star struck feeling he got every time the legendary All Might spoke to him. The man often called by his moniker, was better known by his students as Coach Toshinori, the retired four time Olympic all-around gold medalist in men’s gymnastics. “As long as you keep yourself healthy and continue to work on upping your difficulty, you’ll have no issues making the team.”
“Are you coaching the national team again?” Katsuki asked, unwrapping the chalk covered tape from his hands. White dust particles clouded the air between the pair slightly, the light in the gym making the chalk sparkle.
“Of course,” Toshinori grinned. “I’ll coach the Olympic team until the day I die.”
Katsuki snorted, “You sure that’s not too far off, old man?”
His coach raised an eyebrow in his direction. The legendary gymnast would have competed in a fifth Olympics had he not been seriously injured in a horrific bus crash. The accident made it to the world news with early false reports about All Might’s untimely death, and no one had been more distraught than ten year old Katsuki. The aspiring gymnast saw his world shatter around him when the breaking news flashed across the television, interrupting an after school cartoon he’d been watching. Luckily, a few days later, the real story came out stating that All Might had been rushed to the closest hospital in critical condition, but that there was hope he would wake up in the coming days. Katsuki checked the news every single day until his idol woke up. Of course the legend announced his retirement the first time he appeared on television after his accident, and over the following years, the man shrank to a mere shell of the power house he’d once been. His debut as the coach of the Olympic team when Katsuki was 16 was one of the happiest days of his life. The young gymnast had thrown himself into training, his only goal being to make the Olympic Team, but he’d made too many mistakes and didn’t make the cut. The disappointment hung over him for months. The Japanese team was decent enough, but didn’t have the difficulty to rival the Russians or the Americans. Togata Mirio had gotten lucky due to the disqualification of a German athlete and took a bronze medal on floor exercise.
“I may not be as spry as I once was, but I’m still strong in my own right,” Coach Toshinori chuckled. “Besides, I can’t die yet…not when I have yet to help you win the first Olympic gold medal in all-around since my days as a gymnast.”
“Damn right,” Katsuki fist bumped his coach as he passed to get ready for his floor routine. He took the time to stretch, making idle conversation with the retired legend. Even with his frail appearance, Toshinori was an intimidating force standing at an impressive 6 ft 5 in. “So, when’s the newby joining the club?”
“Newby?”
“Yeah, didn’t you say there was a new gymnast who transferred in at the beginning of the year?” Katsuki threw a look over his shoulder as he readied his position on the stage.
“Oh yes,” his coach nodded, eyes brightening as the recognition. “I started training with him over winter break and I’ll be introducing him to the rest of the team next week when the Spring trimester begins. He’s quite promising. Definitely has a shot at making the national team, though I’d say he's more of a specialist than an all-around gymnast.”
“Tch, good,” Katsuki cracked his neck. “Can’t have anyone competing for my title. Been training for this my whole damn life!” He took off into a series of tumbling passes.
-----
Katsuki leisurely walked from his dorm to his first class of the day. The Spring season was always his favorite at Yuuei, even though the majority of the trimester was plagued by snow and frigid temperatures. The campus was situated in the heart of Osaka near the Yodo River, offering stunning views of the Sakura trees that lined its banks and filled the air with the sweet scent of cherry blossoms. Sunlight would reflect off the massive decorative fountain on the quad, the mist rising off the dancing water casting beautiful rainbows in the air. With the temperature still quite chilly in the beginning of January, Katsuki was bundled up in a thick black wool coat, the collar popped up and shielding the lower half of his face, while a warm knit cap covered his head from the cold air. It would still be a few more months until the campus thawed and the buds of spring began to bloom. For now, he trudged the short distance across campus with his hands stuffed in his pockets and backpack shifting on his shoulders. Being a Nutrition & Health Science major and following a Pre-Dietetics track, Katsuki took a lot of classes both relating to sports and medicine. The first two years at Yuuei had mostly consisted of general classes that bored him to death, but at least they had been easy and he’d been able to focus on improving his gymnastics. Now that he was beginning his specialized courses, the blonde was starting to become nervous about splitting his time training for the Olympics and keeping his grades up. His parents would kill him if he slacked off. Sure, he’d gotten a full-ride on a gymnastics scholarship, but if he failed even a single class, that funding would be pulled. And as successful as his parents were, being top names in the fashion industry, they’d still struggle to cover the tuition. So, he’d have to manage his time wisely. There were no second chances.
The blast of heated air that welcomed him as he entered the Health Sciences building was a bit of a shock, but it was far more comfortable than the frigid air outside. Katsuki fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his schedule to check what room he was meant to be heading toward. The blonde was pretty familiar with this building having already taken some prerequisite courses over his first two years. Following the crowd up the steps, the herd thinned out on the second floor, but he continued up to the third. Upon exiting the stairwell, his eyes caught sight of the view, the communal area consisting of two walls of floor to ceiling windows. Sunlight nearly blinded him as it reflected off the bright white of not yet melted snow, the rushing icy waters of the Yodo River racing below them. The barren Sakura trees were a bit sad, but in a couple months the white and pink petals of thousands of flowers would entirely block the view of the river from this angle.
“Hey Bakubro!” a loud greeting echoed just before a massively thick arm landed on his shoulders.
“Kirishima,” the blonde smirked up at his friend. The 6ft 4in beast of a man had gotten a full ride to Yuuei their senior year of high school for wrestling. Like Katsuki, his friend was an Olympic hopeful. “How was your winter break?”
“Pretty chill…pun intended,” he laughed, showing off rows of sparkling white teeth. “The moms and I took a trip to a hot springs resort in Yamagata. I still suck at skiing by the way, but it was still super fun!”
“Nice! Been a while since I’ve done anything like that,” Katsuki shrugged.
“You should have some fun, man, it’s good for you.”
“I do have fun,” the blonde snorted. “Every damn day when I practice.”
Kirishima rolled his eyes, “I know you like to make gymnastics your entire personality, but you should get out of the gym every once in a while and see the world.”
“I’ve seen plenty of the world, Shitty Hair,” he pulled away from his friend and swiped at the crazy bright red gelled spikes adorning the giant’s head. “You forget my parents took me with them to Fashion Week and shit when I was growing up. I’ve seen Paris, Milan, New York, even got to travel to Munich freshman year for a world’s gymnastics competition.”
“I forget sometimes that you’ve gotten to do all that stuff,” Kirishima shrugged. “So, what class are you headed to?”
“Sports History 201 in room 315.”
“Oh hey, me too!”
“Cool, we can partner for the usual introductory bullshit,” Katsuki snorted thinking about how almost every first day of classes consisted of reading through the syllabus and annoying “get to know your classmates” activities. The repetitive act of introducing oneself to someone you’d only see a couple times a week for a few months and probably never speak to again was the biggest waste of time in Katsuki’s opinion. Kirishima was the one who was good at making friends, not him. No, he was good at gymnastics and staying focused…anything else was a distraction.
The classroom was already pretty full, and with ten minutes before the start time, Katsuki could tell there were already close to 30 people. No doubt this would be a 50 person class, smaller than his general studies courses but big compared to the specialized classes he took for his major. As usual, everyone tried to fill the back rows of seats first, no one brave enough to sit in the first two rows…except for a green-haired shorty already sitting hunched over a notebook, pencil flying over the pages. As Katsuki approached the front of the room - he was not afraid to sit up front - he could see the boy’s lips moving fast, seemingly talking to himself.
Slipping the knit cap off his head, Katsuki stuffed it in his coat pocket before dropping his backpack in an open seat a little ways down from the greenette. The boy’s head snapped up, startled out of his little bubble and Katsuki caught a peek of large emerald eyes set in a round face decorated with a smattering of bronze freckles. Oh, he was pretty, a bit boyish with his chubby cheeks, but he could tell the guy was built beneath the bulky cable knit sweater he wore. The greenette squeaked, trying to cover the silly noise with a cough, before turning back to his notebook. Katsuki shrugged the wool coat off his shoulders, grinning as he saw the deep pink crawling over the boy’s ears and neck. He was used to this reaction. Katsuki knew he was attractive, and having been to Nationals the last four years, he was easily recognized by anyone who kept up with sports news. The blonde sat heavily in his seat and stretched his back, the pale blue long sleeve cashmere sweater hugging his broad shoulders and barrel chest. A hand sliding across his forearm pulled his attention away to catch Kirishima playing with the sleeve of his sweater.
“It’s so soft!” the redhead gasped.
“Tch, course it is. I don’t wear any of those cheap alternatives,” the blonde smirked. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”
Two hands slapped down on Katsuki’s shoulders from behind and he jumped slightly. Tilting his head back, he caught sight of one of his friends from the gymnastics club. Sero grinned down at him, “What’s good man? You enjoy your winter break, or did you just practice 24/7?”
“Hands off, Tape Face,” Katsuki shrugged, the other man’s hands off. “Break was fine.”
Sero snorted, “Guessing it was the latter.”
“Hey, Serbro!” Kirishima laughed, twisting his comically large body around in the small seat to join the conversation. “What’d you do over break?”
“The rents and took us to Tokyo for a couple nights. Swung by some museums, caught a play about tragic love, ate some of the best street food I’ve ever had in my life. It was a good time!” The happy-go-lucky junior was the team’s best high bar specialist, always landing the most insane releases and even when it looked like he was gonna miss the hold, somehow he managed to retain his grip. It was like the guy had tape attached to him at all times. “Rest of the time I just chilled with some friends from back home and played video games.”
“You didn’t train at all?” Katsuki stared at him.
Sero shrugged, “A couple days out of the week. But man, Coach Toshinori has been cracking the whip. I needed a break!”
“Don’t slack off, dumbass! This is an Olympic year.”
“Yeah, and there’s only like two guys on the team who have a chance at earning a spot, and I ain’t one of ‘em,” the ebony haired boy rolled his eyes. “Give it a rest, Bakugou. Not everyone is a genius like you.”
“Whatever,” Katsuki scoffed and turned around, settling into his seat and situating his materials on the desk. Movement in his peripherals caught his attention, vermillion eyes flashing to the greenette a few seats to his left. Katsuki’s interest was piqued…this guy had been listening in on their conversation. “Oi,” Katsuki called, to grab his attention.
The boy jumped in his seat, practically throwing his notebook across the room. “S-Sorry, what?” He stuttered, voice a high tenor. His cheeks were painted a deep pink in his embarrassment, making the freckles stand out even more.
“Whatcha writing over there?”
“O-Oh, nothing much,” he smiled awkwardly. “Mostly just m-meal plans, and a few notes about other st-stuff.”
“You trying to build muscle?” Katsuki let his eyes sweep over the boy’s form. The tabletop hid his bottom half from view, but the guy looked pretty solid in his upper half.
“Uh yeah, in my shoulders mostly,” emerald eyes wandered over Katsuki’s face. The boy seemed nervous and the blonde wondered if it was because of who he was talking to or just talking in general.
“Lean meats are best, but you gotta keep your carb level up, too,” Katsuki pointed out. “Most people think in order to build muscle you have to cut out carbs and fats, but you need them to workout. So, make sure you eat a lot of vegetables and whole grains so you don’t counteract your workouts. Pre-workout has way too many chemicals. Stay away from that shit. And protein shakes are chock full of sugar and fake shit. Don’t buy into anything that the gym bros try to sell you. And if you’re focusing on shoulders and upper arms, make sure you don’t do too much too fast. You’ll only set yourself back.”
The green-eyed boy blinked at him for a few seconds before a small smile pulled onto his lips, “Thanks. I’ll write that down.”
“Oh yeah, he’s the best when it comes to nutrition,” Kirishima slapped Katsuki on the back, butting into their conversation. “Mister Dietitian over here.”
“Shut up, idiot,” Katsuki snapped over his shoulder.
“I’m Kirishima Eijirou, by the way,” the redhead grinned, completely ignoring Katsuki’s griping as he leaned on top of the blonde. “What’s your name?”
“Midoriya Izuku,” the greenette smiled nervously at the intimidating giant.
“Cool, nice to meet you man!” Kirishima grinned. He pointed to the lanky student behind them, “This is Sero Hanta and I’m sure this grumpy boy didn’t introduce himself yet.” He laughed, ruffling Katsuki’s hair and earning a growl. “But this is-”
“Oh, I-I know who h-he is,” Izuku laughed nervously. Katsuki narrowed his eyes. So, he was right – this guy had been nervous to talk to him because he knew who Katsuki was. Some type of fanboy maybe? Wouldn’t be the first time he had an interaction like this one.
“Good morning, everyone,” their teacher wandered in, voice chipper. “I hope everyone enjoyed their winter break.” A few mumbled responses swept across the class and Katsuki rolled his eyes.
The introduction wasn’t as bad as he had expected. Their teacher, Miss Usagiyama, was a no bullshit kind of instructor. Katsuki was grateful they only went over the syllabus and were assigned their first paper – a three-page essay on the brief history of their favorite sport that would later be the basis for a class presentation. It was a no brainer for the blonde, immediately knowing what he’d write about. The moment they were dismissed, Katsuki exited the classroom and headed to the library. He had an hour before his next class, so he’d at least outline his paper real quick. He found it best to jump on assignments immediately instead of waiting until later when he was too busy focusing on gymnastics.
-----
The rest of the day had been about the same. The first week of classes always felt like a joke with the easygoing introductions and outlined syllabi that anyone with two eyes and a brain could read for themselves. After his trip to the campus library, Katsuki headed back to the Health & Sciences building for a psychology class, then stopped by the Student Life building for lunch where he saw Izuku sitting by himself. He didn’t bother the boy as he seemed pretty engrossed in that same notebook from earlier. A few papers were scattered across the table, and Katsuki assumed he was getting a head start on homework. After lunch, the blonde went back to the Health & Sciences building for the last time for a human physiology class.
And now, at a little after 3:30, Katsuki was running laps in the gymnasium, getting in a good warm up before he worked on his routines. A couple of the other guys from the gymnastics club had filtered in after his first couple of laps, shouting out a greeting or throwing a wave his way. The club was pretty big, considering who the coach was. When Toshinori had first taken the job at Yuuei, the retired legend coached both the men’s and women’s clubs, but after his first time coaching the Olympic team, the university was forced to hire a separate coach for the ladies due to Tosinori’s high demand.
By the time Katsuki had properly taped his wrists, the sun had sunk toward the river, casting long gold and red shadows across the gym that warred with the fluorescent lights buzzing from above. Sero had shown up for some practice and a couple of the ladies filtered in as well. Generally, the gymnasium was a bit of a revolving door, people came and people went, but Katsuki always spent the most time here. It was where he felt most at home, comfortable in his own skin and could focus deeply. When he was running routines, his mind was the clearest it could be, analyzing his performance and finding where he needed improvement. He was guilty of being his own worst critic – even Coach Toshinori wasn’t as hard on him as he was himself.
Katsuki stood under the high bar, a springboard placed in front. Sero had agreed to help him out tonight…well, more like Katsuki had fallen so many times and threw a fit that the lanky specialist offered to spot him and give him some tips for the explosive releases he’d been practicing for months now. Vermilion eyes disappeared behind pale lids, his nearly translucent lashes feathering across the tops of his cheeks as he let his anxious energy out through a sharp exhale.
When he opened his eyes, Katsuki used the springboard to grasp the bar and began swinging to build momentum while Sero pulled the board out of the way. Up into a handstand, hold straight for three seconds, swing into a quick handstand at the top of the bar with a full turn, and then into a half pirouette at the top of the bar so he swung backward. The power in his shoulders combined with the momentum he’d built brought him back up where he tucked himself into a pike position, his legs clearing the bar and then swinging back into a handstand at the top of the bar with one and a half rotations so he was swinging forward again. Katsuki separated his legs on the way down, once, twice, the power running through his limbs felt like an electric storm and when he reached the correct angle, his hands let go of the bar, flying into a giant release, his body fluid and legs together in a slight tuck as he flipped over the bar twice and incorporated a single twist before his hands shot out to grab the bar and swing into another big release, this time with body fully straight in a single flip, accompanied by one full twist. As he swung down, he separated his legs to build his speed, and swung into the third and final release, the one he’d missed four times in a row. Sero moved closer in his peripheral as he reached the release point and launched into his most ambitious release, tucking his knees in for three flips. His hands hit the bar, but the explosive energy of three releases in a row pulled him down, fingertips slipping off the bar and slamming him toward the mat. Katsuki felt Sero’s arms wrap around him, slowing his fall and letting his knees hit the mat first instead of his chest or face.
“Woah woah!” Sero blurted out in the aftermath. “You good, man?”
“FUCK!” the blonde shouted, missing the grip for the fifth time in a row. “How the hell am I supposed to have this ready for Nationals?!”
“Dude,” the lanky man sighed and sat down on the mat beside Katsuki. “You’re literally putting all your weight, plus the added force of your momentum on your fingertips. I know explosive releases are your signature, but maybe you should stick to two. You know you can land those.”
“That’s not the fucking point!” The frustrated gymnast growled, pounding his fist into the mat. His eyes stung and his chest was tight as the pressure to deliver an impressive routine started to get to him. Katsuki was quick to swipe a wrist across his eyes to hide his embarrassed anger. “I’ve always done two releases. If I want to make the Olympic team, I have to do more than I’ve ever done. I don’t have the luxury of complacency like you do!” The insult left his mouth before he could stop himself.
Sero’s reaction was immediate, his normally relaxed visage twisting into one of hurt before he hung his head. Ebony strands of hair hid his dark eyes, the only tell now visible was the tightness of his shoulders and the deep huff of breath he released. The lanky gymnast stood and turned his back to Katsuki.
“Sero, I-”
“I’m gonna call it a night,” he cut off the blonde. “You should, too. If you keep going like this you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Sero walked away, grabbing his bag and heading for the locker room.
Everyone else had gone at that point, leaving Katsuki alone in the gym, the only sound cutting the silence being the buzz of fluorescent lights and the heaving of his own breath. Knees bent up and he laid his forearms over them, dropping his head to look at the mat. He knew he shouldn’t have snapped at Sero, but he’d always spoken without thinking when he was angry or frustrated, even if the anger was misdirected at whichever poor soul stepped in his path. “Fuck,” he huffed under his breath and closed his eyes. Katsuki let the buzzing of the fluorescent lights lull him for a bit longer until he pulled himself up and took Sero’s advice to call it a night. He’d figure it out tomorrow when he wasn’t so pissed off.