Chapter 1: Caught in the Clouds
Chapter Text
It was hard to remember exactly what happened.
He knew it was dark. He knew it was chaotic. He knew he wanted it all to be over.
He remembered trees and rocks. He remembered the moon, vivid in the dark night sky. There were other people there too. People he knew. People he fought with.
He didn’t fight hard enough. They didn’t fight hard enough.
And now, Bakugou found himself without anyone by his side.
He thinks he remembers being captured. One minute he was running through the woods with his classmates, the next he was falling into darkness.
It wasn’t pleasant, he knew that. It was empty. It was claustrophobic. It was terrifying.
Bakugou prided himself on his confident nature, his resilience in battle, his bravery to face anything, but in a single moment, all his bravado fell away as he found himself in a black expanse of nothingness.
Bakugou never thought it would be loneliness that made him lose it.
But it was overwhelming and dark and crushing and infinite and there was nothing and no one and nothing and no one and he was alonealonealonealone.
He does remember being released. It felt suffocating, like his body was being forced through a space that it couldn’t fit through. It felt like drowning, like he was swimming towards the surface, but it was too far away. It felt like dying, like his heart was ripped from his chest.
His lungs constricted as he was grasped by his throat. He couldn’t think. His thoughts were scrambled. He wanted to fight back, he did, but his body wouldn’t listen. As he was pulled through the portal it took all of his energy to mumble those few words.
“Don’t come, Deku.”
Somehow the portal was worse than the marble prison. It reminded him all too much of the sludge villain, oozing goop that flooded his senses crawling up his nose, swarming his mouth, filling his eyes. It certainly didn’t help that tight fingers were latched around his throat, squeezing.
When he fell out of the portal he was left gasping for breath, clawing at his throat, trying to erase the memory of his greatest failure.
It wasn’t hard to restrain him after that. He couldn’t do anything to stop them, the villains. He knew who they were, he knew he should be able to do something, anything, to put up a fight. But he didn’t. His eyes wide, blown out in terror. His limbs trembling as they were strapped into a chair. His hands specially cuffed so he wouldn’t be able to escape.
His senses didn’t come back to him until hours later.
His heartbeat never slowed, but lucidity returned to him as he took stock of his surroundings. A small cluttered barroom. No windows. One exit. Possible weapons: three glasses resting on the bar, a corkscrew lying six feet away, a rusty pipe propped onto the wall, a piece of ceiling tile about to fall, stacks of half empty liquor bottles behind the counter, a tv attached to the wall.
A group of people sat gathered around the far end of the bar counter watching him curiously. Sneering at the villains he immediately locked in on the individual in the center. With stark light blue hair and the signature hand obscuring his face, Bakugou had no trouble remembering the villain from the USJ attack: Shigaraki. Looking at the other villains, he only recognized the infamous warp gate also present at the USJ attack, but the others remained nameless and unrecognizable in his mind.
There wasn’t much he could do in this situation, but he’d be damned if he didn’t do anything. So he did the one thing he could do.
He wouldn’t let them break him.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew what they wanted from him. It didn’t take much deduction skills to put two and two together: they wanted to recruit him.
Like Bakugou would let them do that.
If there was one thing Bakugou was good at, it was being stubborn. And the one thing he strived to be was a hero. Put those two together and you get a brick wall of determination; It would take a whole lot more than a kidnapping to loosen his resolve.
“Ah, the young hero finally joins us.” Shigaraki murmured.
Instinctively, Bakugou shrunk away at the villain’s voice, tensing his arms to release an explosion, before remembering the cuffs around his hands.
Better not risk blowing his hands off. If it absolutely came to it, he wouldn’t hesitate. He would quite literally do anything to avoid becoming a villain or, god forbid, a leverage against the heroes.
Which he supposes he is.
God fucking damn it.
“Fuck off you walking dead wanabee.”
A laugh pulled his gaze to a teenage girl whose blonde hair was messily tied up in two buns.
“I like him. He’s so fiery. I can’t imagine how cute he’d look covered in blood.”
He recoiled at the insane commentary.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, crazy bitch. Leave me alone! I don’t want any part of your crazy, fucked up gang!”
“Aw, I don’t get a cute nickname?” The girl pouted, “Besides, I’m sure Shigaraki wouldn’t mind if we played around a little bit. I would just die to see you screaming under my knife.”
Honestly, what kind of crazy psychopath was she?
“Now, now Toga, we wouldn’t want to scare our new guest away,” Shigaraki scolded, absently scratching his neck, “He must serve his purpose.”
“Like I would ever fucking comply with you lousy excuses for villains.”
“Oh really?” Shigaraki stumbled towards him menacingly before forcefully grabbing ahold of his jaw, “Do you know what my quirk is boy?” Shigaraki tightened his grip around Bakugou’s chin and yanked him closer, “If I put just one more finger around your pretty little face, you’ll fade into nothing but dust to fall upon the floor.”
Bakugou pulled his head forcefully away. He couldn’t let them know how shaken that had left him. So he did what he was best at, he turned his insecurities into anger and spit in Shigaraki’s face.
He had expected some backlash, maybe a punch to the face or a cut across his cheek. What he hadn’t expected was for Shigaraki to start laughing quietly to himself as he swiped an arm over his cheek to wipe away the spit. His laughter slowly rose in volume and his hands began scratching at his throat more viciously.
It was beyond terrifying.
Bakugou had expected the villains to be a well coordinated group of people capable of devising horrifyingly awful schemes. But the reality was much worse. This entire group of villains was mentally unhinged. No, worse than that, they were literal psychopaths. There was no way they could be so methodical as to plan a successful attack on his class and pro heroes alone, meaning, there was only one conclusion to be drawn.
There was someone else who was leading them.
Someone capable enough to outsmart pro heroes. Someone sick enough to control these bastards. Someone he needed to fear.
His breath caught in his throat as he continued to watch the unhinged man before him laugh maniacally.
“What exactly do you plan to do to me you bastards?” He didn’t want to admit he was scared of the answer.
Instead of Shigaraki answering, a tall young man with scars covering his under eyes, chin, neck, and arms stepped forward.
“Well, we want to recruit you of course. What we have to do to convince you is really your choice to make. How much will it take to see your tenacity crumble?”
Bakugou sneered, “If you really think that you could make me a villain, you’re more ignorant than I thought. You fucking assholes won’t be able to break me. I’ll die before I let you do that.”
Standing up from his crouched position on the floor, Shigaraki approached him again, “That can certainly be arranged if necessary. In the meantime, I think you’ll find that we can be very persuasive.”
With that note, Shigarki motioned for the other villains to follow him as he led them into a back room Bakugou had failed to notice when he woke up.
He was somewhat relieved to see them leave. If he was alone, he could formulate a plan to escape without worrying about the other villains watching him.
Exactly how long had he been here already?
It couldn’t have been that long, he reasoned. A few hours at least, a day at most. His heart rate slowed considerably now that he was alone, but he was careful to keep his guard up. He tensed his wrists confined in the crude metal contraption, testing its strength. The harsh metal scraped his knuckles as he tried to wriggle free, but the cuffs held strong.
He let out tsk as he tested the other restraints. Tight leather straps crossed his chest and legs. If he had been able to use his powers, he could have blasted through them easily. But, as it was, the most he could do was move slightly to the right and left.
Bakugou considered his other options. The chair he was strapped to was reinforced with metal at the edges, but it was mostly wood. If he could just slam his weight down hard enough, he could splinter the chair and escape from the leather straps. The only problem with that plan was the specialized cuffs were weighted enough to pull his body forward, it would take a lot of strength and effort to slam backwards against the chair, not to mention how difficult it would be to garner enough momentum to break the chair. And even if he did manage to free himself of his constraints, he couldn’t remove the cuffs on his hands. And if he couldn’t use his hands, he couldn’t fight back.
Tossing aside that plan, Bakugou weighed his other options. If he could somehow trick the villains into letting him go, or even just loosening his bindings, that would be ideal, but that still wouldn’t solve the cuff problem. Not to mention, it was highly unlikely.
Quickly getting frustrated with his limited options, Bakugou let out a frustrated yell. There was nothing he could do in this situation.
How could he have been so stupid? He had known the villains were after him. He knew he could easily take them down. But that marble clusterfuck had ruined everything. As soon as he was free, Bakugou swore to give that man exactly what he deserved.
He was startled out of his vengeance fueled daydream by the entrance of the blonde villain.
“Why hello, Katsuki,” she giggled, skipping over to where he was restrained.
Bakugou flinched at the use of his given name. It angered him that any of the villains had the audacity to call him that. As if he was already a member of their filthy league. He recoiled at the thought; Bakugou would never join them.
“Fuck off vampire lady,” He growled.
Rather than scaring her off, the threat seemed to excite her, as she let out a gasp in glee.
“I do get a nickname! I knew you liked me Katsuki.” She leaned in closer, sitting on the arm of the chair he was seated in.
“And you’re so vile too. Got a dirty mouth I see,” the girl giggled again, “And a dirty tongue. I’d love to just slice it off.”
Bakugou tried to lean as far away from the girl, but she just leaned closer, looming over him.
“Did you know that if the lingual arteries in your tongue are severed, you could drown in your own blood?” The girl gained a manic look in her eyes as she leaned even closer. “You would bleed out in minutes, and there would be so much blood.” She grabbed ahold of Bakugou’s chin and yanked him even closer. “I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself if that happened.”
Bakugou’s breath came in short, sharp bursts, “What- What do you think you’re doing?” He tried to sound as threatening as he could, but the girl's grip on his jaw was sending him spiraling again.
“I’m becoming your friend of course.” The girl finally released him and hopped off the chair to talk to him straight on. “Shigaraki said I wasn’t allowed to take any blood yet, but he told me we could play as much as I wanted. Oh! I almost forgot to introduce myself. I got distracted talking about blood.” A wide, crazed grin stretched across her face as she hopped onto a nearby barstool “My name is Toga Himiko. Let’s have some fun.”
~
It had to have been at least a day by now. Bakugou twitched uncomfortably in his chair, glaring down the posse of villains clustered in front of him. Granted, they didn’t pay him much attention. In fact, the group was pointedly ignoring him.
It was fucking annoying.
The previous day had been borderline torturous. While he hadn’t actually been harmed physically, the villains harbored no issues with invading his space and grabbing him. After Toga finally got bored of him, he had only two other visitors.
Another younger villain, maybe in his early twenties, introduced himself as Dabi, who had no qualms about voicing his dislike of both Bakugou and the entire league. It seemed he also had no qualms against reminding Bakugou he couldn’t fight back.
It wasn’t until hours after the both of them had left that Shigaraki returned to threaten him.
“I hear you’ve met a few of our members, have you?”
“Yeah. Real fucking obvious tactic you had going on there. Make friends with the bad guys so I would want to join. Did you really think it would be that easy, you fucking idiot. They’re psychopaths, the whole lot of them” Bakugou spat.
“I’d like to remind you, Bakugou, while we do seek to recruit you, you are first and foremost our prisoner. The only way out is to give up. Join us. Be who you were meant to be.”
“‘Who I’m meant to be’ is the number one fucking hero, and I’m not going to let some mentally unstable, shit villains change my mind.” Katsuki steeled his gaze, “Leave me the fuck alone. You can’t win this battle.”
Shigaraki began a low chuckle, slowly rising in pitch and volume as his hands rose to scratch his neck viciously, “That’s where you’re wrong. You had the chance to make friends here. Instead you turned up your nose at them. Now you’re all alone. No one is coming to save you. Everyone already knows you could never be a hero. You are a villain, Bakugou Katsuki, and you will accept our terms.”
The words cut deep. He had spent his whole life running away from those words. He had been told his quirk was only good for destruction, that he would only end up hurting people in the end, that he could never be a hero, let alone the top hero. So he had distanced himself from everyone, made it his mission to prove them all wrong. He was committed to being the best, no matter who got in his way. So there was never any time for people to care about him.
What hurt the most was the fact that Bakugou understood why no one would come for him. The villains weren’t the only ones who had seen the Sports Festival. Everyone saw him muzzled. Everyone already thought of him as the villain. Hell, even his own classmates hated him. It was his own fault that he was here. And there was no hope of rescue.
The warp gate entered from the door behind Shigaraki, standing as his right hand man.
“Kurogiri,” Shigaraki addressed, “See to it that Bakugou does not receive any food or water for the foreseeable future. Maybe a little starvation will change our young convert’s mind.”
Shigaraki promptly left the small barroom, leaving Kurogiri to follow through on orders. It hadn’t been a pleasant night.
When he awoke, the entire league was present, sitting around the bar counter, although it was unclear what they were doing. Quite contrary to the previous day, the villains were quiet, whispering amongst themselves, unaware of Bakugou watching them. It was Toga who eventually noticed he had woken up.
“Katsuki! You’re awake!”
“Have you decided to agree to our terms yet, young hero?” Shigaraki drawled.
Bakugou’s anger returned in full blast, “Did I not make myself clear? You can’t make me do anything. So Fuck. OFF!”
“So you still haven’t learned your lesson yet, I see. Maybe you just need a little more persuasion.” Shigaraki turned to face Toga, “You have my permission to take as much blood as you want. Just leave him awake and alive.”
The gleam that shone in Toga’s eyes promised she’d do exactly that.
The other villains didn’t even bat an eye as she pulled out a collection of knives and syringes from seemingly nowhere as she steadily approached him.
Before he knew what was happening, Toga had sliced two clean lines down his face, starting at his ears, curving inward across his cheeks, before ending where his jaw met his throat.
Bakugou hissed in pain as Toga leaned in closer and licked one of the cuts from his throat up.
“Oh, I was right. You look so much better covered in blood.” She giggled, before transforming into a perfect copy of himself.
Bakugou inhaled sharply. So that was her quirk. As he looked at his own face staring back at him he became deeply unsettled. It may have looked strikingly like him, but the smile gave it away. Even if he ever did smile, it would never look anything like the terrifying grin gleaming back at him.
“You know, even after all that stuff we told you about how no one cares about you, I think there is one person who does.”
Bakugou’s head shot up, trying to figure out where Toga was going with this.
“You do have one friend. What was his name? Kirishima?” Toga’s grin widened as his eyes grew wide.
“What does he have to do with anything?”
“Why Katsuki, he has everything to do with this. I wonder how he’d feel if he saw us right now, how he’d look if he found your dead body in this chair, how he’d react when he saw you siding with the villains.”
“SHUT UP!” Bakugou screamed, “Stop it!”
“Ohh, did I hit a nerve?” Toga giggled again, the action looking absurd when it was his own face doing it, “I wonder how long it would take him to notice if I came back instead of you.”
“Toga.” Shigaraki cut her off, “That’s enough of that. Leave him be for now.”
“You’re no fun Shigi,” She pouted, “I barely got to do anything.”
“You can save it for later.”
Toga reluctantly withdrew herself away from Bakugou, frowning all the while and slumped into a seat at the bar table.
Blood from the cuts began dripping down Bakugou’s face, pooling in the juncture between his neck and shoulders, sticklily drying and clotting on his neck. The now familiar sense of panic began to set in as the dried blood tightened the skin around his throat. His breath began to come out in small, short bursts as he tried to regulate his breathing.
He refused to show any more weakness to these villains.
He had to stay strong.
“I’ll give you the day to rethink your predicament, young hero, then you’ll have to make a choice.” Shigaraki motioned towards the warp gate, “Kurogiri, if you will, we have matters to attend to. The rest of you are on strict orders to leave our prisoner alone.” With that last note, Shigaraki stepped through the portal and disappeared.
Not that Bakugou was very much aware of this fact. His eyes and hands were clenched, his fingernails digging into his palms to distract himself from the blood and the feeling of suffocation.
It took longer than he would have wanted to admit, but eventually, Bakugou calmed his breathing enough to come back to his senses.
As he opened his eyes again, he realized that the villains, minus Kurogiri and Shigaraki, were all crowded around a tv, all silent except for the newscaster on screen.
“--ou can see the damage behind me, what remains of the forest surrounding the training camp has been reduced to ashes. Thanks to a team of rescue heroes, the forest fire was put out before more damage could occur, but unfortunately, the main culprits escaped capture, taking with them the well known hero-trainee Bakugou Katsuki.”
Bakugou’s head jerked up at the mention of his name, they were talking about the training camp raid.
“All of the other students are accounted for, but some remain in critical condition, and pro-hero Ragdoll has yet to be found as well.”
Some of the tension in Bakuou’s shoulders lightened as he took in the information.
They were all okay. Everyone else was safe.
At least he no one died trying to save him, he wasn’t sure he would be able to live with himself if they did.
“-ing you now to the UA press conference, where pro-hero Eraserhead is giving the briefing on how the heroes plan to proceed and keep the students safe.”
“We are aware of how the public feels. This is the second direct attack on the hero class at UA, this time resulting in the capture of one of the students. Rest assured, we are doing everything in our power to ensure his safety, and the capture of his captors is our top priority.”
“Eraserhead, are you at all concerned that the captured student, Bakugou Katsuki, could be working with the villains? After the sports festival, it seems likely that--”
Of course. Everyone thought of him as a villain. Bakugou slumped down in the chair, ignoring the pang he felt in his chest.
“My student is not a villain.”
At the sound of his teacher’s voice, Bakugou sat up straighter. He was… defending him?
“The debacle at the sports festival was the fault of the UA staff, and the muzzling of our student has not gone unpunished. Bakugou is one of the best students UA has taught, and the fact that he was captured goes to show he proves a threat to the League. I have complete and utter faith in my student, and his rescue will--”
The feed cut off, and Bakugou turned to see Shigaraki, holding the remote.
But he couldn’t bring himself to care. Bakugou smirked. Hearing his teacher call him one of the best and arguing on his behalf filled him with a new resolve.
He was not a toy to be broken.
He was Bakugou fucking Katsuki.
And he was not a villain.
Shigaraki turned to his prisoner, oblivious to the regained strength in his determination.
“Well, would you look at that, the entire hero world already thinks you’re a villain. What kind of career could you possibly have if everyone is scared of you? And look at your precious teacher, trying to save face for the school by protecting your image. You honestly think he ever cared about you? You belong with us.”
No, Aizawa couldn’t be faking it. Bakugou tightened his jaw. He couldn’t break. He had to stay strong. He wouldn’t - couldn’t give up.
“Have you reconsidered our offer yet?”
Bakugou just glared back at Shigaraki. He had had enough of his petulant taunting, he wouldn’t be goaded again.
“Oh? No defying remark? I’d say that’s certainly progress. Maybe you’ve had enough punishment for now. How about a reward for good behavior? Huh?”
Bakugou tensed and sat up more. He couldn’t be certain that this wasn’t some sort of trick.
As Shigaraki approached him, Kurogiri reached out an arm to try and stop him.
“Young master, are you sure uncuffing him is the best idea? He has proven to be quite resilient and powerful.”
“I am aware of the dangers, but don’t worry, he’s been starved and bled for two days now, what little energy he has won’t be enough to do anything.”
Shigaraki brushed off the hand and once again approached Bakugou.
Bakugou pushed his back up against the chair, trying to put as much distance as he could between them. Even if he was being released, which he sincerely doubted, the villain was still terrifying in his own right.
To his surprise, Shigaraki adeptly worked the leather constraints and cuffs off him in a swift manner, releasing him from his prison.
Katsuki slowly made to stand up, cautious of all the villains around him. Though this was the best chance he’d been given of escape, Shigaraki had been right: they had starved him and cut him, and he’d been stuck in that chair for days- he wouldn’t be able to fight them all off. But the other option was staying here and becoming a villain.
He would rather die.
Eyes darting all around him, Bakugou stretched out his muscles and rubbed at where his hands had been cinched in metal. His head swam and his vision danced, dizzy from lack of food, water, and blood. But he was still standing, he wouldn’t back down.
He had to be practical about this. He knew that, since he was dehydrated, his quirk wouldn’t last long. He couldn’t make a move just yet. He had to wait for another opening, when they had their guards down.
Right as his mind was made up, a sudden pounding at the door distracted everyone in the room. All eyes landed on the barroom door.
“Umm, anyone there? I’ve got a pizza order here.”
Shigaraki quickly turned his attention to his lackeys, “Did one of you idiots actually order pizza here! Do you know how ridicul-”
He was cut off as, at once, the wall and door burst open in a flurry of branches and crashing cinder blocks flew into the room, followed by a team of pro heroes.
Bakugou didn’t waste another second, this was as good of a chance as he would get.
Rather than using his explosion, Bakugou began attacking with his fists. It was best to use as few explosions as possible, lest he pass out from quirk exhaustion.
A well aimed kick took out Toga in a flash. A punch or two to the stomach took out the masked villain. He was rounding up for an explosion to take out the fire freak, but just as he was about to make contact, a hand grabbed at his shirt, and before he knew it, the dark fluid of a portal invaded his senses once again.
Bakugou emerged in front of a dark compound, choking on air.
He couldn’t fall apart now, he was so close to freedom.
Despite his panicked state, Bakugou pulled himself to his feet, eyes darting to locate the villains.
As he frantically looked around him, he vaguely noted that he wasn’t alone; a battle raged across the field.
Surrounded in the fray of the fight, senses heightened in blatant panic, Bakugou couldn’t think clearly. He just knew he needed to escape.
Letting out a guttural cry, he launched himself full fury at Shigaraki, palms burning and itching to hit.
Shigaraki easily dodged his attack and seethed in anger.
“I put my trust in you, you ungrateful pig. You could have joined us and become a king, now you’ll become nothing.”
Bakugou didn’t hear him.
He didn’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears and the repeated mantra in his head.
YOU HAVE TO WIN. YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO LOSE THIS FIGHT.
And so, Bakugou let loose everything inside him.
His fists burned bright, outshining the fear in his eyes.
It didn’t matter if his form was sloppy; you couldn’t stop a supernova.
It was manic fear that drove his attacks, but he couldn’t stop. He had to make it out of there.
As he fought, the fatigue from using his quirk was beginning to show itself, he could barely think anything beyond the mantra still burning through his skull.
YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO LOSE THIS FIGHT.
But he couldn’t last much longer, he was aware of that fact at least. His fight was running dry.
Shigaraki, still angered, easily evaded everything Bakugou threw at him, and tried to grasp even just a brush of his fingers on him.
YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO LOSE
Bakugou’s movements began to slow, his footwork began to falter, he was swaying on his feet. It was a miracle he was still fighting, but he couldn’t stop.
Shigaraki, on the other hand, was gaining ground quickly. It was only a matter of time before he was wrapping his hands around his-
“-GOU! BAKUGOU! BAKUGOU! GRAB MY HAND! COME ON!”
YOU CAN’T LOSE.
Bakugou turned his gaze to the sky in time for his eyes to lock onto his best friend, his arm outstretched for him.
He had a way out.
He pushed all his remaining strength into blasting himself skyward. He grew closer and closer each second, so close to Kirishima, so close to safety.
And then his explosions began to falter.
Bakugou felt the panic rise in his throat, but he pushed it down. Only a few more meters and he would be there.
His vision began to swim, his body began to feel limp. NO! He grit his teeth, he couldn’t fail now, not when he was so close, not when he could see Kirishima right in front of him.
He put all of his effort into maintaining his trajectory, his panicked gaze locked onto his best friends hand. He was almost there.
His explosions pittered out slowly, but if he could just latch on, if he could just grasp that hand.
CAN’T LOSE.
“BAKUGOU!”
“KIRISHIMA!”
Bakugou locked eyes with Kirishima, he was right there, he could make it if he could just touch-
And the explosions stopped.
And fingers brushed.
And time held its breath
And he fell.
CAN’T
“NOOOOOOO!”
As the wind rushed by him, he couldn’t look away from those red eyes. He could see the anguish in them as Kirishima drifted farther and farther away. He could feel his heart ache for what almost was.
If only.
And in those few seconds he had left, Bakugou, for the first time in years, felt tears flow down his face.
He felt his body give up.
He felt his eyes drift shut.
He felt his heart beat louder and louder and louderandlouderandlouderandlouderanDLOUDERANDLOUDER.
And then his back hit the ground.
LOSE.
Chapter 2: But You Fell Short
Summary:
Bakugou begins his life as a ghost, and figures out what life as undead is like. However, it is certainly difficult when everyone around you is dealing with grief, with you left to watch helplessly. An important secret is revealed.
Notes:
Hello again! Well, I have not updated this fic in almost two years. Yikes. Sorry about that! I had some issues I needed to deal with, and had to put writing on hold. But I'm back now and here to stay! Hope you enjoy!
TW: Brief description of blood and broken bones (very mild body horror), Self harm (from "horrified by what he saw" to "Bakugou tried to wrap himself"), Depictions of grief
If you believe I did not address all possible triggers, please let me know in the comments and I'll update the list.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Bakugou Katsuki was one of the most tenacious students I have ever taught. No matter what challenge was thrown at him, he threw everything he had into conquering it. I was only his teacher for a few months, but in that time I grew to care about him and his class far more than I cared to admit. Even in the short time I knew him, he changed so much. I watched him learn from his mistakes, make friends, I watched him grow into a student I was proud to teach.
“Every day, I watched him on his journey to becoming a hero, and every day I saw him getting closer and closer to his goal. As soon as I met him, I knew, given time, he would become one of the best heroes this world had ever seen. The day we lost him, we lost a hero.”
Sitting there, listening to Aizawa read a eulogy, his eulogy, was one of the most surreal experiences of his life. Or death, he supposed.
Bakugou wasn’t sure what he expected death to be like, but it wasn’t this.
For all the musings philosophers and conspiracists came up with about the afterlife, ghosts would have been one of his last guesses.
But here he was. Dead. And a ghost.
It had been just like waking up.
His eyes had fluttered open to the sight of an orange tinted, cloudy sky. To the smell of fire and blood. To the sounds of his best friend’s screams.
Despite his other senses being intact, he knew instantly that he was dead. Because no matter the smells, and sounds, and sights, he couldn’t feel anything.
He couldn’t feel his shattered spine, his broken ribs, his cracked skull. He couldn’t feel the blood pooling around him. He couldn’t feel the ground beneath him. He couldn’t feel anything.
He watched as All for One was defeated. He watched as All Might used up the last of his powers. He watched as they found his body.
As soon as he was aware he was dead, he refused to look at his body. He knew what it would look like, bloody, and broken, and horrifying.
But he couldn’t bring himself to move either.
So there he sat, as he was surrounded by pro heroes and paramedics. Completely ignored, as they reached through him to lift up his corpse and place an opaque black tarp over it.
After they had taken his body, he didn’t quite know where to go. He was left there thinking about it. Where he had left to go to. Who he had left to go to.
And all of a sudden he was there.
The first place he went was his house. He watched as Aizawa came into his home and told his parents he was dead.
He had never seen his mother cry before.
Something inside him broke seeing his mother like that. Whatever tough exterior Bakugou had always put up cracked the second he saw the tears fall down her face, as she and his father sobbed on the floor, holding each other tightly.
Bakugou couldn’t help but join them, sobbing and trying to place himself in between their arms. But he couldn’t even feel them.
Even though he knew they wouldn’t be able to hear him, he screamed at them too. Hoping against hope that somehow they would know he was there and comfort him too.
They couldn’t hear him.
After what seemed like an eternity, Bakugou calmed himself down, wiping his tears with his sleeves. He stood up and moved through the house to his bedroom. Sitting on his bed, he looked around his room.
There wasn’t much to be seen - he had kept everything neat and organized, preferring it to be as bare as possible. The only piece of character to the room was the wall of trophies directly opposite him. Staring at them, they only seemed to taunt him, reminding him the only thing he had been good at was winning. Except for the one time it actually mattered.
Bakugou stood up abruptly and ran at the shelf with everything he could. Letting out a scream he bashed and threw and destroyed the mockery, sobs forcing their way out of his chest. He tore the shelf out of the wall. He snapped the trophies in half. He embedded them in his walls. He took all of his fury and emotion and poured it into destroying what remained of his room.
It wasn’t until his door flew open that he realized what he had done.
When his father pushed open the door, the shock was evident on his face. His mother followed directly behind him. When she saw the destruction he had caused, she looked frantically around the room.
“Katsuki?” She called softly
“Yes!” He screamed. “Yes, please I’m here, you have to fucking hear me! I’m right here! PLEASE!” His voice raw with emotion and his body convulsing in sobs.
His father turned to his mother, “You know it’s not.”
“No! NO! It is, it is me! Please, please tell me you know I’m here,” Bakugou begged, trying to get his parents to hear him.
“Why, why is he gone? He didn’t deserve this. GIVE HIM BACK! PLEASE! Please, I’ll be better, I’ll do better, just give him back!” She collapsed again in tears, her husband joining her.
Bakugou couldn’t deal with it anymore. He needed to get out. But there was only one other person he cared about. And he wasn’t sure it would be any better.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about that one moment. He was so close to being saved, to being okay. But he was too weak. He had never shown weakness to anyone ever, but in that moment, with a bright shark tooth smile welcoming him, reaching out for him, his weakness showed through. He couldn’t save himself.
He shouldn’t have thought about it.
Because now, he was in front of his best friend, sobbing and leaning against his mother as she tried to comfort him.
“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” Kirishima muttered to himself over and over.
“No. No it isn’t. It's my fault you fucking idiot. Why are you blaming yourself?” Bakugou tried to tell him in soft murmuring tones. “How could you ever think it was your fault?”
“Hey, you’re Bakugou, right?”
Bakugou shifted to look up through his hair at the person who had approached his desk.
“Yeah. And who the fuck are you?”
The person in front of him, smiled wide and held out his hand, startling Bakugou to look more directly at him. The first thing that popped into his head was just how red this person was. Even though it was just his hair, somehow the color simply emanated from him. Just like the color theory, his classmate exuded nothing but passion, confidence, bravery, and above all, strength.
“I’m Kirishima Eijirou!” The name sounded somewhat familiar to him, but Bakugou couldn’t quite place it. “I’m so excited to meet you man! After I saw you fight at the entrance exam I knew that I just had to be friends with you-”
“I don’t do friends,” Bakugou interrupted with a scowl.
“Ah right. I guess it’s a little early to decide if we’re friends just yet,” Kirishima said sheepishly, “I mean, we just met, so I guess we’re only strangers right now, but I mean, there’s plenty of time to become friends later so-”
“I don’t think you heard me,” Bakugou sneered. “I am here for one reason: to become the number one hero. I don’t care who you or anyone else in this class is. I don’t care that you want to be my friend. I can’t have any distractions like you and your stupid shitty hair messing up my plan. So get the fuck out of my face.”
His speech clearly left Kirishima frazzled, but just as soon, his smile returned back to his face.
“Alright, I see how it is. I guess befriending you will just be my next challenge. You just wait Bakubro, mark my words, I am going to be the best friend you ever had.” Kirishima smirked, and slammed his fists together, hardening. Suddenly, it clicked where Bakugou recognized his name from - Kirishima Eijirou, quirk: hardening, entrance exam score: 74. Kirishima was the person in second place from the entrance exam, just below his own score.
Bakugou smirked. So, Kirishima’s challenge was to be his friend? Then Bakugou’s next challenge would just have to be to defeat him in combat.
“Don’t put your feet on the desk!” Bakugou turned his gaze to the blue haired hardass who approached him, and grinned fiendishly. Forgetting about Kirishima, his attention refocused to his other classmate. Time to put another extra in his place.
Bakugou didn’t know exactly what happened next, time was weird when you were dead, but before he knew it, he was seated at his own funeral. Listening to his own eulogy. Staring down at his own face in a casket.
Honestly, he didn’t think they would have been able to salvage his body, but then again, he hadn’t seen the extent of the damage.
He had always expected himself to be cremated when he had eventually died - a fitting funeral for his explosive quirk, but it seemed that idea hadn’t come to fruition.
So he sat on the pew next to all his classmates, completely numb to what he should be feeling. He stared as one by one, his friends, his family, his teachers, and pro heroes all came up and paid their respects.
With his knees hugged tightly to his chest, he sniffled and silently observed the different reactions of everyone at the service.
Each person present had their own way of grieving. Some, like most of Bakugou’s classmates, couldn’t hold back their tears and were crying in loud, gasping sobs. Others, like Aizawa and his parents, cried silently, tears streaming down their faces, but attempting to put on a brave face for those around them. Many of the pro heroes didn’t cry at all, instead clutching their hands tightly and furrowing their brows in guilt. But some of the attendees didn’t appear fazed at all.
Bakugou knew he shouldn’t let that get to him. He didn’t even know most of those people, likely just reporters or minor heroes on the scene. But the fact that these people didn’t even care that he was gone seemed a harsh slap to the face. It shouldn’t have mattered to him, it shouldn’t , but Bakugou couldn’t help but let out a few restrained whimpers.
As the service concluded, the congregation was ushered into a side room for the reception. Most of his class flocked to each other, crying on one another's shoulders, but Bakugou couldn’t help but notice Kirishima separating himself from the group, moving to curl up in one of the corners of the room.
Swallowing back his sobs, he drifted over to where his best friend sat, his head buried into his chest as his body racked with silent wails. Curling down next to him, Bakugou laid his head down on Kirishima’s shoulder, wishing that he could do something, anything, to calm him down. Instead, all he could do was sit there.
The two boys sat there, Kirishima remaining unaware of the dead boy beside him, for what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes. Without warning, Kirishima abruptly stood up, wiping the tears off his face with his sleeve, and walked timidly up to where his parents stood receiving condolences.
“Bakugou-san?” Kirishima mumbled.
“Oh there’s no need for that son,” Bakugou’s father reassured, “You’re that Kirishima boy, right? Katsuki talked about you so much, I feel like I already know you.”
“Katsuki?” Kirishima sniffled, “He talked about me?”
“Of course he did,” Mitsuki stepped in, “Of course, he never did it directly, but that’s just how he was.” She laughed, wiping away tears that had fallen on her face. “He used to come home and wouldn’t shut up about ‘this red-haired idiot’ who was the only one in class who was actually an equal match for him. I’m pretty sure you were the first friend he made since he was five. I -” Mitsuki broke down in sobs as she tried to finish her sentence, “I can’t remember a time when he was happier than these last few months.”
Kirishima’s porcelain façade broke as soon as Mitsuki’s did, and his face contorted in grief as he began weeping fervently once more. “I- I- I’m so sorry. It’s - It’s my fault. It’s my fault he’s dead. I could- I could’ve saved him. It’s all my - my fault. I’m so so sorry.”
Both of Bakugou’s parents began crying again, grabbing Kirishima into a tight hug.
“No. No it’s not your fault,” Mitsuki choked out.
“She’s right,” Masaru agreed, “Don’t blame yourself. You even - you even risked your life trying to save him. It wasn’t your fault, please don’t try to take the blame.”
“No - no, you don’t under- understand,” Kirishima garbled, “I could’ve stopped them, I could’ve saved him. It’s my fault that he’s - “
“Stop. Please stop,” Mitsuki insisted, pulling him even closer. “Stop placing the blame on yourself, okay?” Sniveling, she tightened her hug around the boy, “Don’t say that it’s your fault, because it isn’t. You have no idea how upsetting it is to hear you say those things, so please don’t think like that.”
“O-okay.”
Kirishima cried into their shoulders for a while afterwards, and though he had said he wouldn’t blame himself, Bakugou could see in his eyes that he didn’t really believe those words.
Not knowing what else to do, Bakugou threw himself into their hug, trying to somehow project his presence to them.
“Why can’t you just know that I’m here. I hate this so much, I fucking HATE THIS!” He screamed.
“Hey, are you okay man?”
Bakugou startled out of his trance to look up as Kirishima approached him. Once he realized who it was, he let out a tsk, and turned away.
“Why the fuck does it matter to you?” he spat.
“Well, I mean that exercise was rough, man. I mean, clearly you and that kid had some unpleasant history. Just because you weren’t as hurt physically doesn’t mean that you’re not struggling mentally. I mean, no one was even checking up on you. I don’t know, I thought someone should make sure you’re doing okay. Midoriya has gotten enough attention.” Kirishima rambled, as he slid down the wall to sit next to him.
Bakugou adamantly looked in the other direction, anger building up in chest again. “Leave me alone, Shitty-Hair. I don’t need to be checked on, and I don’t need you to tell me that Deku and I have beef. So go away.”
A few seconds passed in silence before Kirishima decided to speak up again.
“You say that,” he chuckled, “but you’re still letting me sit here.” A few more seconds stretched out before he continued. “You know, I get it. I don’t know exactly how you and Midoriya know each other, or what happened between you, but I know how you’re feeling.”
“You don’t know shit.” Bakugou muttered.
Kirishima sighed, and turned to look at the wall in front of him. “Yeah, I guess you have a point. I can’t say I know exactly how you feel, but I do get it. I know what it feels like to hate yourself-”
“I don’t hate myself.”
Kirishima paused, and looked at Bakugou. “I know what it feels like to hate yourself so much that the only way you can keep going is to redirect it into anger. Doesn’t matter who that anger is directed at, as long as it distracts you enough. It doesn’t matter how much the other person hurts, as long as it isn’t you any more.”
The anger festered again, as Bakugou listened to his words. Who was he to pretend he understood what Bakugou went through? To assume that he knew what Bakugou felt?
Right at the moment when he was about to boil over, Kirishima yet again interrupted his thoughts.
“If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here. I hope you know you’re not alone, Bakugou. And that what happened today wasn’t entirely your fault.”
And just like that, Bakugou watched Kirishima walked away down the hall, as he was left hugging his knees to his chest in the dimly lit hallway.
Not even three days after his funeral, the dorm system was instituted. There was, obviously, backlash from parents regarding safety and the capabilities of the UA staff after his death, but ultimately they relented to let their kids live on campus. Shortly after that, Bakugou decided that he couldn’t stay in his home, watching his parents destroy themselves with grief.
After the onslaught of emotions he felt since becoming a ghost, Bakugou had reached a point where he just felt empty. With the only option of watching his class pursue their dreams, while he would never fulfill his. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t much he could do as a ghost, besides follow people around. Since refusing to be around his parents, there wasn’t much to do except follow his classmates.
While the rest of the school might be enjoying their new dorms, the class 1A dorms could only be described as desolate. Though they all tried to put on brave faces, it was obvious how shaken they were. Even the people who hadn’t much cared for Bakugou were upset by his death, at the very least left terrified of how it could have been them.
He spent most of his time with Kirishima. Though, like his parents, Kirishima was still grieving, Bakugou felt more inclined to be with him. Almost like he needed to protect him.
Still, sometimes it got too much. Kirishima was a wreck, to say the least. He tried to stay positive around the others, but alone in his dorm he would fall apart. He would sob and scream, and punch pillows. But somehow it was worse when he was quieter. When he would just spend hours staring at a wall, with silent tears on his cheeks. When he would whisper, “I’m sorry.”
Whenever it was too overwhelming, Bakugou would leave and roam about the rest of the dorms. Oddly enough, he would end up with Deku most of those times. After he died, it surprised him how much grief Deku felt. It almost seemed like fate that every night he left Kirishima’s side, he found Deku in the kitchen. They would sit in silence together, and those nights left Bakugou recalling their past. Forcing him to reflect.
Bakugou scoffed to himself, of course this is what it took for him to acknowledge his actions. After that fact, every time he sat with Deku, Bakugou started the habit of talking out loud his apologies and feelings.
He would start with the same sentence every time.
“I’m sorry Deku.”
“Oi, Shitty-Hair!”
Bakugou walked over as Kirishima turned around to face him.
“Bakugou! Oh thank god you’re okay man.” Kirishima quickly ran over and engulfed Bakugou in a hug.
Bakugou tensed up, but allowed it for a fraction of a second, before maneuvering his way out.
“Okay, okay, get off me you big baby.”
Kirishima chuckled softly and stepped back for a moment.
“Sorry man, I’m just so relieved you’re okay. That fight was so crazy, I lost sight of you afterwards.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes, “Yeah yeah, I’m okay.” He paused briefly, before begrudgingly asking, “What about you?”
“Huh?” Kirishima asked, confused.
Rolling his eyes again, Bakugou clarified, “Are you okay?”
Surprised, Kirishima let out an “Oh,” before a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I’m okay. A little banged up, but I guess everyone is,” he laughed.
“You did good out there.” Bakugou said, bringing his gaze up to meet Kirishima’s. “It was lucky we ended up together in the ruins zone. You were very…” Bakugou trailed off, contemplating if he was really about to say this, “Manly. Out there.” With difficulty, Bakugou finished his sentence, and glanced away.
Still, even out of the corner of his eye, he could see how excited Kirishima became, and he couldn’t escape the second hug that Kirishima tackled him with. And, much as he wouldn’t care to admit it, Bakugou allowed it.
“Ah! You were so manly too Bakugou! Those villains didn’t stand a chance against us! I think we make a pretty great team together. We gotta train together more often!”
Bakugou rolled his eyes, but he had to agree. “Okay, Shitty-Hair. Sure. But don’t think you’ll be able to beat me.”
Kirishima just laughed, and wrapped his arm around Bakugou’s shoulder, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
One thing Bakugou had learned about being a ghost, he couldn’t sleep. It had been frustrating at first, especially because he didn’t have anything to do. But soon, he developed a routine of sitting on Kirishima’s bed next to him as he slept.
Without anything to do, Bakugou would just watch him sleep. Sometimes, he would try to run a hand through his hair, or try to lay down next to him, but he was always quickly reminded of how little he could touch things in the living world. So most of the time, he would just sit and watch.
Sadly, most of those nights were not peaceful. Most nights, Kirishima would toss and turn in his sleep, plagued with nightmares.
“No. No, please. I can’t. I can’t lose him! No!” Kirishima shot out of bed, shaking and crying. “Please no,” he whispered. Bakugou could only watch as Kirishima pulled out his phone and opened his contact. This wasn’t the first time he had done this, but it pulled at Bakugou’s heart every time. He listened as the dial tone rang out for a few seconds before his own voice sounded from the phone.
“Oi, you’ve reached Bakugou Katsuki. If this isn’t important, don’t you dare leave a message. If I have to listen to one more goddamn useless voicemail, I will find you and kill you myself. If this is my old hag or old man, I saw the first time you called. You don’t need to leave another message. If this is Shitty-Hair, stop calling me you damn spammer, just text me if you really have to.”
Kirishima curled around the phone and whispered, “I’m sorry Katsuki. I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop them. That I couldn’t save you.”
He wouldn’t go back to sleep afterwards. He just kept playing the voice recording over and over and over, until morning.
And even though he knew it wouldn’t work, Bakugou tried to hold onto him. He tried to talk to him too.
“It’s okay Eijiro. It’s all over. Don’t blame yourself, please. It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”
“Why can’t I do this,” Kirishima yelled, frustrated. “I’ve been trying for hours, and it just doesn't make sense! I’m doing everything right, but it just isn’t-”
“Oi! Kirishima, it’s fine. You probably just need a break. You’ve been studying for almost an hour. It’s fine.”
Kirishima groaned, “Bakugou, you don’t get it! You don’t even need to study, you just know things. I have to try so hard to keep up in class, while you just coast by. Do you understand how hard it is?”
“Hey! Don’t talk like that! Of course I get it. We’re in a fucking hero school, dumbass, of course it’s gonna be hard. You’re right, you try your damn hardest to succeed here, and it’s paying off. So what if you need to take a break every now and again,” Bakugou berated. He sighed before continuing, “I know you’re frustrated right now, so trying again is just gonna make you even more upset. You need a break, so come on.”
Bakugou got up from the desk and began dragging Kirishima out the door.
“Bakugou, let go of me!” Kirishima shouted as he struggled out of Bakugou’s grip.
“Like hell I am, Shitty-Hair! You are going to take a break even if it kills me. Oi- stop struggling you idiot!”
Kirishima let out another groan, but relented as Bakugou pulled him downstairs to his kitchen.
“Sit your ass down, I’m gonna make us dinner.”
Kirishima grumbled, but ultimately sat down as he was told. Bakugou started grabbing tools and ingredients from around the kitchen, setting them on the counter in front of Kirishima. He began to chop up carrots, mushrooms, onions, and celery, while Kirishima watched curiously.
“Are you done pouting now? Feel up to helping?,” Bakugou asked.
Kirishima sighed, “I guess so.”
“Good. Mix this together then.” Bakugou handed Kirishima a few ingredients, a bowl, and a spoon, before turning around to face the stove. Kirishima accepted the ingredients and began mixing, while Bakugou began cooking some noodles, as well as the vegetables and meat in a separate pan.
“Sooo, what are we making?” Kirishima asked.
“Sukiyaki,” Bakugou stated.
Kirishima paused before asking, “Don’t you normally like spicy dishes? Sukiyaki isn’t exactly what I would call hot.”
Bakugou grunted and turned around from the stove. “Yeah, but you’re here. This dish is for you, not me.” He quickly turned back to his cooking, as Kirishima, shocked, walked over and handed Bakugou the mixture he made.
“Well. Thanks, I guess,” Kirishima said. “And, I’m sorry for earlier. I guess you were right. I needed a break.”
Bakugou took the mixture, and combined all the ingredients as he spoke. “You’re welcome. Now here,” Bakugou shoved the dish into Kirishima’s face, who took it gratefully.
As they sat down and took the first bite, Bakugou watched Kirishima’s face light up.
“Oh my god dude, this is so good!” Kirishima quickly shoveled the rest of the food into his mouth, much to Bakugou’s chagrin.
“Gross, slow down Kiri,” Bakugou grimaced.
“Sorry,” Kirishima replied sheepishly, “You’re cooking is just sooo good.”
“Yeah, well it will taste just as good if you eat it slowly, like a normal person.” Bakugou rolled his eyes.
When they finished, Kirishima leaned back in his chair, “God man, you gotta cook for us more often. I think you’ve spoiled me from any other food.”
“Of course I did. I’m the goddamn best at everything,” Bakugou informed. “Let’s get back to studying now. We’ve had a long enough break.”
“Ughhh, do we have to man?” Kirishima groaned.
“Do you want to pass finals, or not?”
“Fine,” Kirishima relented, “You win. But you actually gotta help me dude.”
Bakugou scoffed, “Obviously. I wasn’t just gonna leave you on your own like that.”
Kirishima let out a huge smile, and Bakugou couldn’t help but reciprocate.
“NO! I won’t!” Kirishima sobbed, “I- I can’t, please!” We whimpered and turned over. “Stop! Don’t hurt them!”
It was painful to listen to, but Bakugou now refused to leave Kirishima’s side during his nightmares. While they were overwhelming at first, now Bakugou was resolute in being there for all of them. No matter how dark they got.
“Please no, please no, please no.” Kirishima repeated over and over, until he finally woke up.
Still crying, this time Kirishima got out of bed and went into his bathroom, leaving the door open. Still hearing his sobs, Bakugou peeked his head in, seeing Kirishima staring at himself in the mirror, muttering to himself.
“It’s my fault, all my fault, It’s my fault.”
“Kiri, please,” Bakugou expressed, “I’m here. Please know that I’m here.”
Almost like he was answering Bakugou, Kirishima began muttering, “No, no, no, no, “ repeatedly. He backed himself up and slid down the wall, gripping his hair. He started rocking back and forth, but continued muttering. But soon after, he began whispering something else, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Bakugou tried to hold back his own tears, and sat beside Kirishima. However, it wasn’t long before he noticed an odd movement out of the corner of his eye. He quickly turned to Kirishima, and was horrified by what he saw.
He was now whispering the phrases interchangeably, “I’m sorry, my fault, my fault, please no,” but was now scratching at his arms with hardened hands.
“Kiri, Kiri please! Please stop!” Bakugou tried to somehow make Kirishima hear him, to help him through this moment, but it wasn’t working. He could only watch as Kirishima ripped jagged cuts into himself, and as the blood flowed onto his lap and to the floor.
“Eijiro, Eijiro!” Bakugou screamed, still trying to pry Kirishima’s hands away from himself in vain.
“No, no, please! Please stop! I can’t lose you Eiji, I can’t!”
No matter how desperate he was, he still couldn’t touch him.
Suddenly, Bakugou and Kirishima were startled by a faint buzzing coming from underneath the sink.
“No, no, no, no. Not again,” Kirishima frantically mumbled, but thankfully, stopped clawing at his arms.
“Oh thank god, Eiji. Please, I know you can’t hear me, but please. Please never do that again. It’s not your fault,” Bakugou tried to wrap himself around Kirishima for comfort, but Kirishima reached right through him to the cabinet.
“What?” Bakugou asked, confused, as Kirishima pulled out a flip phone and opened it, his lip trembling.
“Riot. You have a new mission.” A familiar voice rang out.
Bakugou stumbled away in horror. No. No, it couldn’t be. Kirishima tried to save him. He’s a good person. The only person who Bakugou trusted, who he cared for. He couldn’t be--”
“Please, Kurogiri, I can’t. I-” Bakugou was going to throw up. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t.
“You know you have to.” Kirishima couldn’t have.
Kirishima stifled back his tears and took a trembling breath, before responding quietly, “Okay. What do you need me to do?”
Kirishima Eijirou was the UA traitor.
Notes:
Just to clarify the timeline of flashbacks:
1. First day of class
2. After the first training exercise
3. After the USJ fight
4. Studying for finalsI hope you all liked this chapter! Hopefully, I will begin regular updates (about once a week) but I'm not making promises.
Thank you guys!