Chapter Text
“You’re what?!”
“Are you fucking deaf or do I have to repeat it again for you, Shitty Hair?” Katsuki snapped back. He was getting a headache from all of this— he should’ve just told him over text once he landed.
“You’re going to have to repeat it a few more times because it sounds to me like you’re moving to America?” Kirishima says, bewildered.
“Oh, so your ears do work?” Katsuki spits, walking around his apartment with another cube of folded clothes. Kirishima’s eyes just follow him as Katsuki zips up another piece of luggage. “Dude— Bakubro, I just— don’t understand. You were finally going to start your hero agency. What happened to becoming the number one hero?”
Katsuki clicked his tongue, trying to stamp down the memories of being utterly rejected by that nerd. “Plans changed,” he muttered. He felt his palms warming, wanting to spark and blow up everything in sight but years of therapy and anger management taught him that blowing things up wasn’t healthy. Whatever, like the old quack knew what she was talking about. But she was the one signing off if he was stable enough to keep doing hero work so he took a deep breath and clenched his fists instead.
“Is this because of Midoriya?”
Damn Shitty Hair. Always so fucking nosey— it’s like he could read his mind. “Like I’d let that dumb nerd control the way I live my life!” Katsuki yelled, his tone increasing in volume. Okay, so maybe he was still bitter about Deku turning him down when he asked to start an agency together but that didn’t mean him moving to America was because of that. It was a good opportunity. Katsuki would be stupid to turn it down.
The day after that class reunion at the bar— the day after the nerd shot him down and then frolicked into the night with Round Cheeks— he was offered the opportunity to help on a 6-month-long contract with an agency in California. They were recruiting some of the best from around the world so they could all learn from each other— and well, Katsuki happened to be the best. Rankings be damned— who wants to be nice 24/7.
“Does he even know that you’re leaving?” Kirishima asks the million-dollar question.
Katsuki freezes, just for a brief moment, but Kirishima’s laser-sharp gaze catches it. “You haven’t told him? Are you crazy?”
“Huh? Who are you calling crazy?!” Katsuki retorts.
“Bakugou, come on man. It’s just me,” Kirishima was using that soft voice of his again. The one he always used when he tried to get Katsuki to open up about something. It was damn annoying— but it worked for some odd reason.
As much as Katsuki would hate to admit it out loud, Kirishima knew almost everything about him. He knew about all of his terrible hook-up stories, his drunken secrets, and his stupid, idiotic crush on Izuku since high school.
Katsuki sighed, staring at the ceiling like it would give him the strength to have this dumb conversation. “There’s nothing to talk about. The shitty nerd didn’t want to become hero partners and then he fucked off somewhere with Round Cheeks after the bar. I’m not gonna stay here pathetically pining after him like a fucking idiot— I’m going to America to beat up some villains.”
Kirishima walked over, laying a firm hand on his shoulder. “Look dude, I know Midoriya turning down your offer like that was rough but moving halfway across the world is— a bit crazy. I mean no one you know is out there and if you’re PTSD gets triggered out there we won’t be able to help you.”
Katsuki shrugs off his hand, “I can take care of myself.” But that wasn’t fair to his friends, who the idiots dubbed themselves as the Bakusquad. They had been there, more often than not, when he was stuck in the brutal hands of a flashback. His bad arm, the one that was shattered by Shigaraki, throbbed with the ghosts of pain.
Katsuki groaned, “Look, I’ll be fine. It’s 6 months, not forever. I just need to get my head on straight and then when I’m back, I’m knocking all you losers down 'cause I’ll come back on top.” He stared back at his friend who had stuck around since they were shitty first years. “Anyways, you and the other idiots can come visit. I know Racoon Eyes has been begging all of us to go on a group trip to the States.”
He could see Kirishima’s eyes getting watery. Katsuki didn’t cry— let alone what to do when his friends cried. He already had to deal with crying his whole life due to the Midoriya's and their cry-baby tendencies.
He softened, “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be back before you know it. Just hold down the fort for me here. I better not come back and Japan is in ruins.”
Kirishima scrubbed his arm over his eyes, wiping away his tears. “Yeah, you got it, man.”
-
It’s been about a week since Katsuki packed his bags and hauled his ass onto a 10-hour flight to California. The hero agency that recruited him for this mission gave him housing in a small studio apartment in LA. They better have because if Katsuki had to pay rent for the 6 months he was here he wouldn’t have been able to afford to eat. Why was everything so fucking expensive here?
After Kirishima dropped him off at the airport and he got onto the plane, he was hit with a barrage of phone calls from the group chat his friends kept adding him to. Katsuki made Kirishima promise not to tell anyone where he was going— he didn’t need all the extras in his business. He amended it for Kirishima to tell their little friend group but that was it, and he made him swear that he would make sure Pinky wouldn’t run her mouth like she always did.
He sent off a quick text telling them he’d be back in a few months and to shut up and stop blowing up his phone before putting it on silent. So that’s why he was so surprised when his phone started ringing on a random Thursday morning. He only had notifications on for Shitty Hair in case of emergencies since he muted his phone after his friends haven’t stopped texting him in the week he’s been here.
Katsuki scrubbed the sleep out of his eyes, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. It was only 9 am here so it was only 2 am back home. What the fuck? He felt his stomach drop as he scrambled to hit the accept button.
“Kirishima? What’s wrong?” He tried not to sound frantic but the anxiety bubbling in his chest was already reaching its boiling point.
“It’s Midoriya.”