Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku wasn’t sure how it happened. He’d been walking to the cafeteria with Todoroki and Uraraka when he saw it: a kid from Support leaning over another, posture clearly threatening. He recognized the one cowering against the wall, Nishiya Hide; one of Mei’s friends, clearly a genius, and Quirkless . Hell, he’d spent like an hour excitedly babbling to his friends about the fact that they had a Quirkless kid in their batch. 

They didn’t get how widespread the discrimination was, how you got beaten down for no reason at all, treated as inferior in areas where Quirks had no impact whatsoever, either seen as fragile or hit till you cracked… and now it was happening right in front of him. His memories hit him like a wall, stopping him in his tracks.

“Deku?” Uraraka questioned when she noticed he had fallen out of step with them. He shook his head, eyes glued to the situation unfolding in the adjacent hallway. Should he call a teacher? Should he send someone else to call a teacher?

But then the girl threatening him was raising her hands in a move all too reminiscent of Bakugou’s posture before he attacked. They were glowing, not sparking with explosive power, but that didn’t matter to Izuku. It didn’t change the way his heart stuttered in his chest, the way his muscles tensed as adrenaline rushed through his body. 

He was moving before he could think twice, forcing himself between the two Support students. 

“Ah! What the hell are you- holy shit, Deku?” The girl was pulling her hands away, but it was too late. Izuku felt a spine-tingling wave of… something wash over him, and he knew a Quirk’s tell when he felt one. 

“Get away from him,” Izuku growled between gritted teeth, but his head was spinning too much to focus on the attacker. He threw his arm out in a protective gesture, hoping Nishiya was behind him. He couldn't orient himself enough to check. 

“Deku? Are you okay?” 

Izuku swung his head toward the voice to see Uraraka peering at him worriedly, kneeling at his side. When had he fallen to the ground? 

I'm fine, is what Izuku thought. 

“No. My head hurts” is what Izuku said.

That... wasn't what he'd meant to say. He'd wanted to reassure Uraraka, put her at ease. He opened his mouth to try again, but the words wouldn’t force their way out of his throat, leaving his protests wordless. “Nngh,” was all he managed to mutter. 

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean- It was for Nishiya!” The girl — the attacker — was bowing in front of him.

“I could tell, that’s why I interfered. I can’t stand bullies like you,” Izuku snarked, then frowned. He didn’t mean to say that either. He wanted to be diplomatic about this. He usually was diplomatic about this stuff. If that was the case, then...

“Truth Quirk?” he croaked out blearily. She nodded apologetically. Her movements were frantic… was she scared of him? 

“What were you using your Quirk for anyway, huh?” Uraraka questioned sternly, standing up. She could certainly be intimidating. The girl paled and bowed again. 

“It was my fault!” Nishiya had joined her side and bowed too. “I’m sorry! I lied about a prank I pulled on Tanada. We didn’t mean to cause problems for you!” 

So this was a situation between friends. But then… hadn’t he covered for Kacchan too? Was this really different? Or was he just seeing what he expected to see? 

But when he looked at the way the girl was quivering behind Nishiya, the way he seemed to be protecting her… He could never imagine Kacchan hiding behind him for protection. Did he completely misread the situation? He couldn’t be sure, though...

“Ah, it’s completely okay then!” Uraraka immediately soothed, brightening up. It seemed like Nishiya’s support had won over Uraraka. He wanted to say something, to tell Uraraka that just because the victim in the situation covered for the attacker, it didn’t mean an attack didn’t happen, but his head was spinning too much to intervene. He let Uraraka take the lead. 

He was startled out of his thoughts by a cool hand against his forehead and he smiled, leaning into it. Todoroki...

“But Tanada..?” Uraraka asked. Her voice was so loud. Why. 

“Tanada Jitsuko!”

“Tanada Jitsuko. Don’t use your Quirk like that in the hallways. It’s easy to misinterpret.” 

The girl bowed at a perfect 90 degree angle, a feat he’d thought only Iida was capable of. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I know Deku was just being a hero, so this is my fault. I’m really sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it. He’s tough. But can you tell us how your Quirk works? So we know what to look out for.”

In front of Izuku, movement. He blinked to make out a concerned blur of red and white. “You okay?” Todoroki asked softly, and Izuku nodded.

“It’s mainly a truth-telling Quirk and will last for two to three days. You won’t say everything on your mind or anything, but… If you try to lie, you might find yourself blurting out the truth you were trying to hide instead. There isn’t really any way to get rid of it… But there’s no physical effects or anything, aside from a headache for a few minutes.” 

She paused, looking at Izuku guiltily. 

“Also… when a question is directed at you, you’re forced to answer with the truth. I know that’s really tough to deal with… I’m sorry.” 

She bowed again. With how often she was doing it, she could probably join I-A for ab day. 

“I-if there’s any way we can help-”

“It’s okay,” Izuku waved her off, annoyed. “I think that I might have misinterpreted the situation, I’m very sorry. Please have a nice day, sorry for bothering you.” 

He didn’t really want to deal with them apologizing a million times more. Besides, he was the one who made the mistake. 

“It’s no worry at all!” Tanada squeaked. Then she was bowing again and scurrying off, dragging Nishiya with him. 

“...Deku…” Uraraka said, turning to face him. 

“I know, I know, I’m very good at making trouble for myself. It won’t- I’ll try to make sure it happens less.”

“Tch.”

It took them 5 minutes to explain the situation to Iida and another 10 to listen to him rant about how Izuku was being irresponsible, and that despite his intentions being good, it was important for him to assess situations before jumping in. Izuku just accepted his punishment. After all, it wasn’t like Iida was wrong. 

He was just happy to have friends that were so worried about him. 

“There’s nothing we can do about it now. Anyway, as his friends, all we can do is make sure no one asks him questions he doesn’t want to answer,” Tsuyu pointed out. 

“Yeah. Everyone has secrets, even someone as sweet as Deku!” Uraraka agreed. 

They were all so understanding. Were all friends so understanding, or did he just know the best people in the world? 

He saw Todoroki finally return with a lunch tray in hand, before silently pushing a bowl of katsudon towards him… Had he disappeared to pick that up for him? That was so-

Iida hummed. “Yes. There’s no use focusing on what’s already happened. Sorry for getting carried away, Midoriya, I’m just worried about you. You’re very good at getting yourself into tough situations and as your friend, I don’t like seeing you get hurt. Are there any questions you don’t want to be asked?”

Izuku’s eyes watered. It had to be the latter case. He really… He really had the best friends…

“No, don’t-” 

There was no stopping the waterworks. 

“Don’t ask me about why or how my Quirk came in late!” Izuku wailed and sniffled. “And I really love you guys so much! You’re the best!” 

“We love you too, kero,” Tsuyu soothed, patting his head. This only made him sob harder, and he heard Uraraka laugh. Todoroki hid a small smile behind his hand, even as Iida panicked in the face of his tears. 

“Aizawa-Sensei.” 

Aizawa looked up at Midoriya and groaned. 

“Problem Child. Have you gotten yourself into trouble again?”

“Yes,” Midoriya responded guiltily. Aizawa just gestured to the seat in front of him. 

“Um… Tanada Jitsuko from Support hit me with her Quirk, so I’m forced to tell the truth,” he admitted. “She didn’t mean to hit me. I misread the situation, I guess, I thought she was attacking another student because he was Quirkless. He was actually her friend.” 

“It’s not like you to jump to conclusions,” Aizawa said. Midoriya didn’t fail to note how Aizawa phrased it like a statement rather than a question so that he wouldn’t be forced to answer. His teacher was really perceptive… Most of the time, at least. 

“Yeah. It reminded me of some situations I’ve witnessed in the past, so I just kind of acted without thinking. I don’t think she should get in trouble.” 

Aizawa sighed. “Of course you don’t. Don’t worry about her. Besides, she shouldn’t have been using her Quirk on anyone, even if they were friends. I’m glad you actually came and told me about the situation, rather than trying to hide it.” 

Midoriya shrugged. He might not have if the secret he was protecting wasn’t so important, but he knew this was bigger than him. Besides, he trusted Aizawa Sensei about this. 

“Should I… I don’t have to miss classes, do I?” Midoriya asked. He didn’t want to fall behind. He couldn’t afford to.

“No. I’d rather you be around your own teachers and classmates, who won’t set out to harm you, than be alone where another student or staff member could potentially take advantage of the situation. I’ll inform the teachers about it, so they won’t call on you in class or ask you any questions you wouldn’t want to answer otherwise. Is there anyone else that knows the situation?” 

“Uh, Iida, Uraraka, Ts-Asui and Todoroki. They all said they would keep people from asking too many questions.” 

“Alright. Make sure at least one of them is with you at all times if you’re going to be spending time with other people. You might want to talk to All Might, too — he should be free for the next hour. Do you have a class then?”

“No, Sensei.”

“I’ll let him know you want to meet him then. Make sure to keep me updated. If anyone’s causing problems for you, let me know. I’m sure we can find some alternate housing for them while the Quirk is affecting you. Your safety is more important.” 

Aizawa dealt with every issue so coolly, and he never hesitated in doing the right thing. He never turned a blind eye to a situation, either. Logically, Izuku knew the teachers at U.A. would be better than those at Aldera, but he expected that in terms of them being better educated, or more knowledgeable. He hadn't expected... to be told he was important, especially not in the easy way Aizawa said it. Like it was a fact.

Midoriya felt his eyes water again.

“Absolutely not. Don’t you dare.”

“Sensei… You’re really cool…”

“All Might will be here next hour. Please cry all over him instead.” 

Despite his harsh words, Aizawa pushed a box of tissues towards him. Izuku pulled one out and buried his face in it gratefully, sniffling. 

After classes, Izuku did the smart thing and immediately left to hole up in his room. He noticed a few suspicious glances thrown his way — Izuku almost always hung out in the common room with everyone else after classes — but he was too bad of a liar to attempt an excuse even without being affected by a truth Quirk. 

He heard Tsuyu tell everyone he was leaving to call his mom. That… was pretty believable, actually, everyone knew Izuku loved spending time with his mom, and he had been complaining recently that she was busy. 

Tsuyu was good at stuff like this, noticing and observing the little details. She wasn’t particularly showy about it though, so people underestimated her, but… Izuku couldn’t help but be glad to have her on his side. 

He changed. He massaged his arm. He sat around on his bed and reviewed his notes. He supposed he'd gotten used to the routine of hanging out with the others. Being alone had been so common in middle school, but somewhere along the way he'd forgotten how to do that. Finally, there was a knock on the door. Midoriya eagerly swung it open. 

“Uraraka!” he exclaimed cheerfully. “Iida!”

“Tch. Midoriya… you really need to keep your room cleaner,” Iida chastised as he made his way inside.

“You’re such a mom, Iida!” Uraraka laughed, flopping down on Izuku’s bed. Iida’s eyebrow twitched. 

“I don’t consider that an insult,” he said, nose wrinkled. “Mothers are the core of every household.”

Izuku snickered. Iida shot him a dirty glare — man, and he had the audacity to be surprised that Izuku was scared of him when he first met — and began picking up the scrunched up notes that had blown off his desk and onto the floor. Izuku tried to protest that he would get to it, it wasn’t even that messy, but as skilled as Iida was at catching out swearing from a mile away, he was just as capable of turning a deaf ear to his complaints. 

He sighed and flopped down next to Uraraka on the bed instead. Iida knew to be careful with his All Might figurines anyway, so he wasn’t worried. He turned to look at Uraraka. 

“Hey,” he said, poking Uraraka’s shoulder. “Tomorrow’s your birthday.”

“I know!! Isn’t it exciting? My train leaves in an hour.” 

“Woah, you got permission to go back home?”

“Just for the night! I have to be super careful, but also Aizawa said he was visiting a friend nearby so he’d drop me off and pick me up. I think he’s just doing that so I can go home… He’s such a sweetheart.” 

“His grumpiness doesn’t seem to fool anyone, huh. Have you finished packing?” 

“My clothes are packed,” Uraraka assured. Izuku squinted at the odd phrasing. From the other side of the room, Iida hid his blush behind books he was putting away. 

“Iida you- You really- Did you really pack-” 

“She said-! It was going to be her birthday, and she said she was tired and would do it later but you know she’d forget, and then we would have to help out anyway because it would be too late!” He sniffled. “I was simply being proactive!” 

“Uraraka’s right, you do act like a mom!” Deku laughed. 

Uraraka smacked him in the face with a pillow. 

“Don’t be rude to mom, Deku,” she said huffily, and he laughed harder. He was about to respond when they were interrupted by the sound of Uraraka’s alarm. She groaned. 

“I guess I have to leave. Aizawa-sensei should be waiting outside in 10.” 

“Want us to wait with you?” Izuku asked. Uraraka waved them off.

“Nah, have your boys’ time,” she said cheerfully, hugging the both of them before leaving.

It felt like all the energy in the room left when Uraraka did. Izuku sighed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Iida drag a chair by the bedside, settle in that stiff-yet-casual way that meant 'I am trying to put you at ease but do not know how to'. Izuku waited. Iida squirmed on his chair, opening and closing his mouth a few times. 

“Are you okay?” He finally asked. Izuku looked up at him. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I really am. I was just thinking… I’m lucky to have all of you. Had this happened before U.A., I’m sure this would have been a hardship, but… it isn’t really that big of a deal now. I’m not scared anyone is going to try and take advantage of the situation.” 

“I see. You don’t talk about middle school a lot.” 

“It… wasn’t a great time for me. But it’s in the past, so.” 

“That’s true. U.A. really is the best of the best, and you have the support of your peers and superiors here. We all want to see you succeed, so don’t give up!”

Izuku couldn’t help but think how much that sounded like something from a pamphlet, and chuckled softly. Iida looked at him, affronted. 

“This is a serious matter! It is important you know how much we support you!” 

“Never change, Iida. Never change.” 

“Happy birthday, Uraraka!” Izuku cheered, holding out the bouquet he got her.

“Deku! Oh, those are so pretty- Ahh, my room is going to totally look the best-” 

“I got you art, too! I commissioned someone to draw the very famous hero Uravity-”

“You did?!”

“But the artist had a bit of a delay, so it’ll be coming in tomorrow. So flowers for now.” 

Uraraka threw herself on Izuku, hugging him tight. He coughed in her grip, blushing, and she laughed. 

“There is no chance of your room being the best, mon amour, but perhaps a close second,” Aoyama teased, sidling into the conversation. Uraraka raised an eyebrow. 

“Put away the judgement, cheri, I got you these,” he said, handing Uraraka a box before flouncing away, blowing a kiss at... presumably the air. Izuku watched as Aoyama winked and flirted with nothing. He was so confusing sometimes, it was like he was an alien or something. 

Excitable and as easily distracted as always, Uraraka immediately began ripping away at the wrapping paper. Izuku could almost hear Iida scolding her to not be rude despite the fact that he was across the room… scolding Dark Shadow to not be rude. 

“Shoes!!” Uraraka squealed loud enough to be heard across the entire class. “Pretty shoes! Pretty pink pumps!!!” 

“Turn it down, you extra!” Bakugou snarled from where he was… being grumpy? Shouting at people? Whatever Bakugou was doing at any given moment.

Mina brought her fist down on his head. 

“It’s her birthday, Baka-gou! Be nice to her!” 

“So what? How many goddamn shoes does she need anyway? Isn’t this the third pair she’s been given today? She only has two feet!” 

“You wouldn’t get it, idiot!” Uraraka shouted back. Bakugou huffed and settled back into his seat. Izuku laughed, following Uraraka as she headed to the lockers to store her gifts. He smiled at how carefully she placed the flowers in her locker. 

“It’s true though… didn’t Momo make you shoes, too?” He teased her with a nudge as she closed the locker door. 

“You totally wouldn’t get it either! At least Bakugou owns more than one pair! Are you allergic to fashion or something?” 

Izuku stiffened, feeling the words pulled out of him forcibly. “I’m not allergic to fashion. These are the only nice Quirkless shoes I’ve found, though,” he mumbles before covering his mouth with his hands. 

“I- I didn’t mean to activate the Quirk, I’m sorry, I completely forgot-” 

He shakes his head. No one else seems to have heard anyway, lost in the inherent chaos of class 1-A.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad. I-it’s just you anyway. I… have the extra toe joint, so… I need different shoes…” 

“Oh.”

Uraraka didn’t ask any more questions. She knew Izuku got his Quirk really late, and the fact that he had the extra toe joint… She didn’t know what it meant, but she did know that there was no way she was going to push him for answers, especially not when he was under the influence of a Quirk. 

“Hey, hey, do you know what Todoroki got me as a gift?” she asked instead, attempting to distract him. 

“Was it terrible?”

“No, but it was… very Todoroki. Hey, listen. Listen.” She gripped Izuku’s face to make sure he was listening. He snorted and waved for her to continue. 

“Okay, so, he shows up to my room early in the morning, right? Like, just 10 minutes after I’ve returned. And he has this huge duffel bag with him. “Here”, he says, and tosses this gigantic duffel bag into my room. And in the duffel bag…” 

She paused for dramatic effect. 

“In the duffel bag is just this enormous pile of money.”

“Oh my god.”

“He wouldn’t even take it back! He froze it to my floor, and said “I heard you were poor. I enjoy stealing from my father.” And then he just left. I don’t even know how much money is in there yet! It was frozen, and anyway I’m too scared to count it.”

“Oh my god,” Izuku repeated. “He’s totally hopeless.” 

Uraraka laughed, and Izuku couldn’t help but join in. He leaned his head against her shoulder as she cackled loud enough to draw a dirty glance from Bakugou, who thankfully decided to ignore them with an “Insane nerds.”

“Hey. Thanks,” he whispered once their laughs died down, unwilling to elaborate on what he was thanking her for.

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured cheerfully.

Chapter Text

After the conversation with Uraraka, Izuku was constantly on his toes for conversations about his Quirk. He knew how dangerous his secret was, and with Class I-A’s proclivities for getting accosted by villains…

But it was only a day or two more. They should be fine. And it would be worse if he let people know he was under a truth-telling Quirk. Maybe he could trust his classmates, but he couldn’t afford to extend the same courtesy to the entire school, and if people found that he was under a truth telling Quirk... The best case scenario would be if no one else found out about his current situation, he continued to hide himself in his dorm room the second classes were over, and his classmates were none the wiser. 

Unfortunately for him, though… His classmates weren’t stupid, not even the ones that seemed like it. And Present Mic was very fond of asking questions. 

“All right, little listeners, are we ready to have some fun? ”

“No. We’re all very tired from training yesterday, and even if we were ready to have some fun, I don’t think English class counts. I didn’t mean to say any of that Sensei I am so sorry- ” 

“It’s okay Midoriya, Aizawa updated me on the situation. I didn’t realize the extent- Either way, you’re fine.” Present Mic waved him off, and he slumped in his seat. 

“What situation?” Kaminari piped up. 

“A Quirk effect situation,” Izuku responded automatically. “It’s noth- Don’t worry about it.”

“And no more questions,” Mic scolded. “Not even in English.”

Izuku breathed a sigh of relief. At least he didn’t say what Quirk he’d been hit by. Letting people know he was under a vague Quirk effect could actually be useful. He would be able to explain away his odd behaviour without having to actually put himself at risk. 

“Oh, he’s gotta answer any questions we ask, huh,” Kaminari hummed. “That explains why he ran away last evening. Sorry man, truth-telling Quirks suck. Was it that Tanaka chick from Support?”

...Well, there went that plan. 

“Tanada, yeah. How did you…?”

Kaminari waved vaguely.

“I know everyone in our grade at least a little. Woah, wait, does that mean that we can officially check if unicorns are real? Midoriya are unicorns real?” 

“The Quirk only prevents me from actually lying, it doesn’t reveal, like, the truths of the universe. I don’t know if unicorns are real. I don’t think they are, but who knows? Maybe there’s a horse out there with a Quirk.” 

“Hm. Well, at least we know it’s possible. What about mermaids then?”

Izuku groaned and slammed his head on the desk. He was forced to mumble his answer through it anyway. 

“So we really aren’t going to use this opportunity to interrogate Midoriya? I bet he knows some secrets, you know,” Mineta leered. “Seeing as he’s super close to some of the girls.”  

Izuku began to get up from his comfortable corner seat on the couch. “Actually, I think I’ll go to my room—” he mumbled. Uraraka pulled him back down. 

"No way! You shouldn’t have to run away just because someone is being an asshole. You have rights, Deku! This is your common room too!” Uraraka glared at Mineta. 

“Why are you protecting him? Is this because he’s fucking you? Midoriya, are you fucking Uraraka?” Mineta asked. Izuku felt like he was going to throw up.

“No! What? No! She’s my best friend! I really should go.” Izuku looked at Uraraka pleadingly, under whose iron grip he was trapped. She redirected her glare to him. 

“And miss the latest Hero Patrol? You love that show!” 

Izuku huddled back into the couch, entirely against his own volition. “I don’t want to miss Hero Patrol,” he agreed. “But I also don’t enjoy being interrogated, or hearing Mineta be gross about you…”

“There’s an easy solution to this situation,” Jirou muttered from the floor. She got up to open the window. 

“Mineta, you can either choose to leave by the door or be forcibly removed through the window.” 

Mineta meeped. He began complaining about how he had rights, too, but when Kirishima stood up and began making his way to him, he wisely chose Door A, aka the actual door.

“Man, what a pain~” Mina complained before Mineta was even fully out of the room. Mineta turned around to glare at her, but the sound of Kirishima smacking his fist to his palm hurried him along. Izuku noticed Kirishima and Jirou exchange a fist bump as they settled back down. 

“Ugh. Why hasn’t he been kicked out already? Besides, we all know that if there’s anyone Midoriya is dating, it’s Bakubro,” Mina commented, stretching out on her armchair. 

What? What?

“What?”  

“Aren’t you guys exes or something?” Mina asked. 

“We’re not- Not even close! Why would you think that? Did Kacchan tell you that?” He turned to look at Bakugou, who looked like his brain was trying and failing to process the situation. 

Him and Kacchan? Dating?

How would that even happen? Why would that even happen? 

“Haah? Why the fuck would you think that, Bubblegum Brain?” Bakugou snarled once he broke out of his stupor. 

What he said! Why would anyone—How would— No! 

“Well… The two of you say you’re childhood friends, but you never really talk about things you did together… and you’re both so aggressive with each other, you don’t seem like friends at all, but you know too much about each other to just be strangers, and there’s no reason for you to lie about something like this… not to mention that Midoriya calls you Kacchan, so.”

Well. When she put it that way, it did make sense that she would come to that conclusion… But… But…

Bakugou, as usual, didn’t hesitate to make his unhappiness with the idea apparent. 

“So you just decided that we were a couple that had an ugly breakup? What’s with that? Are you an idiot?” 

“I thought that too, actually,” Kirishima added.

Izuku looked nervously at Kacchan; he would hate it if people were walking around thinking that the two of them were dating, and that anger was invariably going to end up being aimed at him . Hagakure added that the animosity between the two of them was similar to her relationship with her ex. As expected, Bakugou shot an angry red glare at Izuku from across the room at this, palms starting to spark. 

Great. Now he’d have to deal with Kacchan glaring at him for weeks and refusing to even be within 6 feet of him, probably. Who knows, maybe even exploding at him or beating him up. Probably not, they’d gotten past that, but Kacchan looked really angry, like way beyond normal levels of angry, and this time Izuku was actually tangentially involved in some way, so he actually did have a reason for that anger to be directed at him, and—

“So you really were just friends?” Mina hums. 

Izuku’s thoughts screeched to a halt, dread slowly twining its way around his heart.

It was clear she wasn’t actually asking a question. She was just wondering, thinking out loud. He shouldn’t have to answer this. He should be able to ignore it, or say yes because they were just friends, never in a relationship, and that’s what Mina was asking. 

But the Quirk didn’t care. It didn’t just stop him from lying. When asked a question, it forced him to tell the truth, to reveal whatever he was trying to hide. And so, with the same ease that glass shatters, Izuku found himself saying:

“Well, I was Kacchan’s friend. He was my bully.” 

Everyone around them froze, chatter falling silent. They had all been listening, and the room was too small for secrets. In the background, he heard the title card of Hero Patrol play. The fun tune that he almost always sang along with felt out of place with the mood of the room, but no one made a move to turn the TV off, still afraid to breathe through the tension suffocating them. 

Izuku tried to get up and leave the room. His body wouldn’t cooperate with him. He kept thinking about how much he wanted to move, but his muscles refused to listen. He felt like his blood was turning into ice.

He had been so worried about protecting OFA that he had completely forgotten the other things he was trying to hide. 

“Izuku...” Todoroki murmured. “Did Bakugou hurt you?”

“So often,” Izuku responded blankly. He felt vaguely like he wasn’t really here, like he was watching the situation unfold but it was happening to someone else. Like he was in a movie. This wasn't the first time he'd experienced such a sensation.  

“Did he hit you?” 

“Todoroki, it isn’t fair to-” 

“Punches, kicks, explosions, probably other stuff too. I’ve lost count.” 

Everyone’s eyes were still on him. He was going to puke. 

Surprisingly, Uraraka was the one who moved first, tackling Bakugou. Bakugou didn’t dodge, letting her shove him to the ground and punch him. 

“Uraraka!” Iida scolded, pulling her off Bakugou. 

“Let me go, Iida! You heard what Deku said! And he can’t even lie right now, not that he ever would. This piece of shit-”

“I’m aware of what he did, but it’s better to let the proper authorities deal with it,” he reminded, grip tight despite her struggling. “If only to ensure all the blame falls solely on the perpetrator of the crime.” 

“So we’re just supposed to let him go?” Uraraka’s voice sounded as hopeless as Izuku felt. She snarled, kicked, then slumped down in Iida's arms. Drained. Izuku watched her blankly. She'd usually win against him in hand to hand... But her moments are erratic and emotion-driven. This is why heroes emphasize the importance of maintaining a cool head. Hm, I should look at how Pro Heroes respond to emotional situations... Are there any videos of that? I should make notes... 

“This isn’t about us, kero, it’s about Midoriya. Let’s let him make the decision.” 

Izuku snapped back into place at the sound of her name, stared at her. Right, this was actually happening. He was here. He was expected to respond.

He didn’t know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say - it wasn’t that big a deal, it was a long time ago, it wasn’t that bad - but he couldn’t. 

“I- I-” He stared helplessly at her, and then at his own hands. He felt Todoroki gently putting an arm around him. 

“Midoriya. Let’s go to your room.” He looked up at him, then nodded. 

“Yes please,” he croaked. He noticed Todoroki making eye contact with Bakugou, a fierce, fiery expression, but when Todoroki looked back at him, his eyes were startlingly gentle. Izuku let Todoroki lead him away from the common room, away from everyone else.

It didn’t matter where they were going as long as it was away . 

He was moving, and then he was sitting, and there was the sound of a door closing, and Izuku wanted to thank Todoroki, or ask him when they got to his room, he was in his room now, but that detachment from earlier had fled and everything was rushing in and it was too much . 

He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t talk and he couldn't breathe and he would never be able to face everyone else again and he just made friends but now he was going to lose them all and he couldn’t breathe-

“Midoriya, may I touch you?” 

Izuku nodded frantically, and then Todoroki’s arms were on his shoulders, soothing, grounding him. 

“Can you breathe with me? Follow my breaths?” 

Todoroki didn’t wait for an answer, holding one of Izuku’s arms against his chest as he took deep breaths. It took a few minutes before Izuku could focus on the way his hand moved with Todoroki’s chest. He tried his best to follow the rhythm, to let Todoroki’s breaths guide him. They just sat there for- for who knows how long, just breathing.

He felt air finally rush back into his lungs without being immediately forced back out of him. 

“Good. Now can you open your eyes for me?”

When had he closed his eyes? He opened them to see his hand trembling against Todoroki’s black turtleneck. For some reason, the scars seemed to be jumping out at him, so he let his eyes rove over them, memorizing the details. 

“Hey. Look at me?”

Izuku looked up to meet Todoroki’s deceptively calm face. Only the pinch of his eyebrows showed his worry, but he looked… confident. That was good. He felt comforted, somehow. 

“Can you name five things you can see for me?”

“Uh… You. On the. The bed. A-across from me. Hh- My desk. My blanket. The… the window.” 

Todoroki smiled at him softly, encouragingly. 

“Good. Okay, now four things you can feel.”

“The… The blanket, again. Your chest against my hand. Um… The headboard. Against my back. The wind from the window. Is that… that was four?”

“That was four. Three things you can hear.”

“Your voice. The birds outside. The curtains moving.”

“Two things you can smell.”

“I can’t really… I guess just you. You smell kind of like… smoke. I can’t really smell anything else...”

“That’s okay. One thing you can taste.”

“My tongue?”

Todoroki laughed softly. “Fair enough. Feeling better?”

Izuku nodded. For a moment there, earlier, he definitely thought he would have a full-blown panic attack. He didn’t get them often, but when he did… It was definitely bad. 

“How did you know that would help?” he asked. Todoroki shrugged. 

“My sister used to do that for me. I would get panic attacks too. I mean I still do, but… yeah.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. He always thought… Todoroki never seemed like the type to struggle with these things. He was always so strong, even when he was struggling through so much. 

Panic attacks weren’t a sign of weakness, he knew that, but… He'd always thought he was the only one… 

“Thank you, Todoroki. For, y’know.”

Todoroki shrugged, leaning back against the wall at the foot of the bed.

“You would have done the same for me,” he said easily. As though his decision to stand by Izuku, to help him, was nothing. 

Before U.A., no one had ever sided with him against Kacchan. 

“S-still. You… I’m glad you’re here for me,” he pushed with a blush. 

“It was an easy choice. Besides, Uraraka is probably kicking Bakugou’s ass enough for all of us, so.” 

Izuku frowned. He should… he should be more upset about that, shouldn’t he? But he didn’t really have the energy to care. He was too tired. 

He slumped further back against the headboard. 

“Listen… we don’t have to talk about this anytime soon if you don’t want to. I’ll make sure the rest of the class won’t bug you about it, though I think Iida is probably gonna get there first. But if you want to…” 

“I know.”

“And what Bakugou did was wrong.”

“I- I know.” 

“Do you?”

Todoroki looked at him, and this time Izuku could see the rage in his eyes. But Todoroki had still put that aside to help him first. Todoroki controlled his anger to do what he needed to, not what he wanted to. 

“Logically, yes. Emotionally… I’m starting to.”

Chapter Text

A moment’s silence followed as Todoroki escorted Midoriya out of the room. Mina could see Midoriya’s shoulders shake, and the way he leaned against Todoroki and… 

And it made her sick to her stomach. 

She whirled around to glare at Bakugou. “Did you really do that shit? Beat him up?” 

He looked up at her impassively from his position on the floor, not having bothered to get up after Uraraka tackled him. She didn’t know why she asked; she knew the answer anyway, but a part of her was hoping—

“That’s sick. That’s sick, Bakugou, what possible reason could you have to hurt someone like Midoriya? Were you jealous of his Quirk or something? Couldn’t handle that he was more All Might as a kid than you would ever be?” 

Bakugou laughed, and it sounded twisted, hateful in a way that made her heart clench. 

“You don’t know shit about me,” he snarled, getting up. “You keep making accusations, coming to conclusions with no fucking idea about—” 

“You’re saying he lied under that Quirk? ‘S that what you’re saying?” 

Bakugou clenched his jaw. She knew guys like this, guys that would never accept their flaws, always insist that they were in the right. Prideful and pitiful with inflated egos just waiting to be popped. 

She never expected Bakugou would be one of those guys. Mina had half a mind to take a page out of Uraraka’s book and tackle the fucker right back to the ground. 

“Please, calm down—” Iida tried. Mina whirled to face him. 

“Shut up, Iida! Look, you don’t give a shit about your friend, that’s on you, but I’m not going to just stand by and let bullies get away without consequences. It’s not just about being polite, okay? You have to fight for what’s right too! What are you gonna do when you’re a hero, huh? You— What, Kaminari?” She growled, cut off by Kaminari tugging against her sleeve.

“Bakugou’s leaving,” he said, pointing at the door. She could just see Kirishima’s back disappear as he left the room. He was obviously following Bakugou. “He’s the one you want answers from, right? So do I. Maybe— Maybe we should deal with that instead.” 

Right. “That’s right. We all deserve an explanation from him.” She took after Bakugou, running, Kaminari right behind her. 

“—a misunderstanding, right?” She heard Kirirshima ask as she caught up with them. 

“Fuck off, Shitty Hair. And what the fuck are you two extras following me around for, huh?” Bakugou never paused in his step, only taking a second to glare at them filthily over his shoulder. 

“You really think you can talk to us like that after the shit we just found out?” Mina demanded. 

“It’s just the way he speaks,” Kirishima defended. “You know he doesn’t mean it.” 

“So, what, he didn’t mean to burn Deku? He just accidentally activated his Quirk against him?”

Kirishima had the decency to look ashamed. The expression on him seemed out of place. 

“Do you mean it?” Kaminari asked. 

“Just fucking leave me alone,” Bakugou muttered, unheeding of Kaminari. Kaminari ran up so he was in front of Bakuhou, staring him down intensely. Pleading. 

“No seriously dude, do you mean the shit you say? When you call me stupid, or dunce face or whatever? Is it friendly teasing or do you actually just hate us all?” 

Bakugou grit his jaw. “I wouldn’t put up with anyone I didn’t want to, okay?” He admitted, like it was painful, before brushing past Kaminari. 

So he did actually consider them his friends. Mina hadn’t been looking at things from that perspective, but she understood where Kaminari was coming from. 

After all, they had been friends for some time now. They had all trusted each other with shit they wouldn’t show anyone else. Bakugou couldn't have faked all of it, he just couldn't. He was a shitty guy with a terrible attitude, but he was pretty straightforward, all things considered. He wasn't sneaky or manipulative, and he never hesitated to scream his opinions at everyone. Maybe a different tactic would get Bakugou to just explain why he— just why . 

“Look,” Mina reasoned, placing her hand on Bakugou’s shoulder. He shrugged it off immediately. They were almost at his dorm door and she knew they weren’t going to be invited in. If they wanted to get Bakugou to talk, it had to be now. “Look,” she tried again. “Just explain it to us. Whatever— whatever happened. I was wrong about the two of you being exes too, so.” 

They were at the dorm room now, and Bakugou was opening the door; but Kirishima gripped his shoulder instead, this time, causing him to still at the doorway. This would work. It had to. Bakugou had to have a reason, and they had to be wrong, and Bakugou never hesitated lording it over people when they were wrong. 

“Yeah! Look, Bakubro, we’re ready to listen—” 

Bakugou shut the door in their faces. 

Uraraka slumped onto the couch. 

She didn’t know what to do. She never knew what to do. Why couldn’t she just protect the people she loved? She grit her teeth, just barely preventing herself from screaming in frustration. It was a close thing. 

She felt Iida settle down beside her. Jirou and Tokoyami had already left, and she couldn’t fault them for it. Momo left too, but she brought them cookies first, so that was nice.

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Iida. For snapping at you.” 

“It’s understandable. I know the pain that comes with knowing a loved one has been hurt.”

“Right. For Tensei.”

“And for Midoriya. He’s one of my best friends too, Uraraka.” 

Then why aren’t you angry?   She wanted to ask, but that was unfair. Iida had learnt that anger wasn’t the way thanks to the Stain incident, right? She knew that too, logically, but—

She didn’t know what to do. To make it all better. 

How could Bakugou want to hurt him? Midoriya wore Quirkless shoes, Midoriya’s Quirk bloomed late… Was it all just because he thought Midoriya was thought to be Quirkless? Seriously? If that was the case… It felt even worse somehow, that it wasn’t even anything Midoriya had done. 

Bakugou was obsessed with power, they all knew that, but was it… was it really to this extent? 

She heard a ping on her phone. Iida’s and Tsuyu’s, too. 

A message on the 1-A group chat from Todoroki. 

Midoriya doesn’t want to talk about this to the teachers yet. Please respect him enough to allow him to handle the situation. 

That rage within her was blossoming again. Midoriya was too forgiving. He wasn’t going to try and protect Bakugou, was he? Even if he was, she would intervene. She had to. She couldn’t let her friend have to deal with his tormentor every single day for the next three years, even if she lost his friendship because of it. She would tell Aizawa, or All Might- surely they would take action. And if that didn’t work, then she would—

She was pulled out of her thoughts by Iida.

“I should have seen the signs,” he murmured.

“Iida, no,” Uraraka argued. “It wasn’t your fault.” It was Bakugou’s. And he’ll get what’s coming to him. 

“Midoriya is constantly flinching at the slightest touch. He’s jumpy, he’s nervous, and it’s not subtle at all. Even at the examination centre, when we were applying for UA, everyone noticed it. He always notices when something is wrong with us. As his friend, I should have been able to extend the same courtesy.” 

“Uraraka’s right, it’s not your fault, kero. But I understand how you feel. I… I saw those signs too, but I brushed it off as social anxiety, or him just being a nervous type of person. If I think back now, it’s easy to notice he always flinched more around Bakugou’s explosions, but I just thought it was because they were loud.” Tsuyu paused for a moment. “We can’t do much now, except support him in any way we can.” 

“Right. There’s no use dwelling on the past. We should just seek to do better in the future. It was Midoriya who taught me that.” 

Uraraka put her head in her hands. They were so mature. Logical. They weren’t letting their emotions control her like she was. Maybe… Maybe they were right. She shouldn’t make any drastic decisions. Midoriya was his own person too. She had to trust him, not go behind his back and snitch to the teachers like a child. She had to convince herself of that — even if she didn't believe it, she'd never believe it, Bakugou deserved the punishment and everyone should know he — she had to convince herself to step back, if only to let Midoriya make his own decisions, have his own agency. 

“Todoroki texted me, kero,” Tsuyu said. “Said Midoriya is alright. He just needs a break. He even sent a photo. ” 

She lifted her head from her hands at that, leaning over Iida to look at Tsuyu’s phone. It was Midoriya, sleeping, tucked into his blanket. She settled back against the sofa with a sigh. 

Iida’s face was determined, even through the worry etched into his eyes. Tsuyu, too. If— If they could be mature about this, she could follow their lead. At least for a bit. 

There were times that Todoroki missed home.

For the most part, he loved the U.A. dorms. He loved being away from his father, yes, but he also loved being with his friends. He liked to think he had the same determination towards progress in both places, but where at home it drained him, at U.A. it felt less clawing his way up a mountain and more like learning how to fly. 

But there were times Todoroki missed home. This was one of those times. As he silently left Midoriya’s dorm room, he couldn’t help but wonder what Fuyumi would have done. What Natsuo would have done. Should he stay with Midoriya in his room and keep guard? Should he confront Bakugou? Should he call Iida, or Uraraka? 

As much as he hoarded the memories of his interactions with his siblings, Todoroki knew he didn’t get to spend as much time with them as normal siblings did. But he thought that they would know what to do. 

He bit his lip. Maybe… 

He messaged Momo. 

From Todoroki:
Yaomomo, sorry for bothering you this late. Would it be okay if I broke curfew and stayed over in Midoriya’s room today?

From Yaoyorozu:
No worries, Todoroki! Is Midoriya okay? 

From Todoroki:
He’s asleep. I’m… not sure what to do. 

From Yaoyorozu:
You know him better than I do. I’m sure that he’ll find your support useful, no matter how you go about it. 
That being said, I’m happy to support you through this as well.

From Todoroki:
I’m not the one going through this

From Yaoyorozu:
That doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you. You’re his friend too, and it hurts seeing someone you love in pain. This is a difficult situation. If you’d like to talk, or just spend some time together, I’m here for you. 

From Todoroki:
...Thank you, Yaomomo

From Momo:
<3

Todoroki smiled softly, putting his phone away and moving Midoriya’s chair aside. He would sleep here, then. There wasn’t much place on the floor, but he didn’t particularly mind. 

He glanced at Midoriya’s sleeping face. This guy… He’d really taught him a lot. About friendships, and relationships in general. He doesn’t think he’d have been able to rely on his friends like he could now without him. He wouldn’t have even been able to rely on himself. 

A soft knock on the door drew him out of his reverie. 

“Hey,” Yaoyorozu said, hands full. So she had kicked the door, then, not knocked it. Todoroki suppressed a smile at the idea. 

“Tatami. And futon.” She held out the rolls for him to take, which he did gratefully. 

“Thanks.” 

“Is he okay? I know I asked that earlier, but…” 

Todoroki shrugged. “He will be. He has us to support him.” 

Yaoyorozu nodded. “That’s right. And he’s a strong guy. I’ve never seen anyone as determined as him.” 

Todoroki smiled softly. Yaoyorozu patted his arm. 

“I’m going to go now. Just remember you can rely on me, okay?” 

As Todoroki spread out his bedding, he felt grateful all over again for U.A. He had friends now, people he could rely on. He had a place for himself as more than just a weapon. 

Most importantly, he had Midoriya. Midoriya had him, too. He would keep Midoriya from harm. Midoriya kept him safe, and so he would keep Midoriya safe too. He would make sure of it.

Chapter Text

When Aizawa walked into the classroom, he immediately knew something was wrong. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out; hell, All Might would have noticed it almost as fast as he did.

The class was sombre, and no one was shouting. No one was even talking — At most there were whispers, and they weren’t the jovial, snickering ones common in his classrooms.  They were the kind of whispers you’d find at a funeral. 

There were a good few that refused to look up from their desks. The rest, well…

“Midoriya. It seems like half the class is trying to subtly glance at you, while the other half are not-so-subtly glaring at Bakugou. Anything you want to say about it?”

“Not really, no.”

Aizawa sighed. He’d expected as much. 

“Bakugou?” 

Bakugou doesn’t even deign to glance at him, simply staring out of the window with determination. 

“Alright. Does anyone in this class want to explain whatever is happening to me?”

Murmurs and guilty glances, but no answers were forthcoming. 

Right. So something had happened to Midoriya, and the class definitely thought Bakugou was at fault. The two of them arguing wasn’t new, but whatever had happened… It was serious. A fight got out of hand, perhaps. Words that shouldn’t have been said would be the best case, though with the two of them being childhood friends, they might have a lot of info on each other. In the worst case, well - no one here had a healing quirk, and Recovery Girl would have informed him if necessary, so it couldn’t have been that bad. And if the class wasn’t speaking… A lot of them seemed quite ready to crucify Bakugou, so it must have been Midoriya himself who told them to stay put. 

He knew he could just ask Midoriya, and the answer would be his. But that wouldn’t be fair, not now, and he couldn’t afford to break Midoriya’s trust. The boy never approached him when he was in trouble; it wouldn’t do to take advantage of him finally doing just that. He would only have to wait a day or two more, and he’d be able to interrogate him to his heart’s content. For now… 

“Midoriya, are you or anyone else in the class in any danger right now?”

“No, Sensei.”

“Were any of you, any time recently? Recently being within the last week or two.”

“No, Sensei.”

“Alright. Good. Then get out.”

“A-aizawa Sensei?”

Midoriya was looking at him with big, broken eyes. Damn this kid and his stupid, self-sacrificial nature. 

“Not just you. Everyone in the class. Get back to the dorms, work out at the gym, do whatever you want.” 

“B-but!”

“No.” Aizawa took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t a punishment. Whatever is happening right now, it’s clear that it’s affecting all of you. As heroes, there will be times when you need to take a break and put yourselves first; consider this training for when that situation inevitably arises. God knows you’ll need it. Class Rep?” 

“Yes sensei?” 

“Come with me to the teacher’s lounge. I’ll give you worksheets for everyone to complete. Everyone else, you’re dismissed.” Everyone just sat there for a few minutes, but Aizawa didn’t bother shooing them out, turning on his heel to leave the room. He heard Iida order them to “leave in an orderly fashion” behind him, but his voice was sombre, soft. Entirely unlike the Iida he'd known. 

What the hell had happened? Would this class never get a break?

As expected, Midoriya was the first to book it out of class. Uraraka didn’t hesitate to follow, tapping Iida on his shoulder as she passed him. 

Sorry, Iida. You take care of your Class Prez duties. I’ll worry about this, she thought. 

She hoped the sentiment got across.

“Deku! Wait up!” 

“Sorry,” Deku murmured, slowing down. “But I’m not in the mood to talk, or hang out.” 

“That’s okay. Can I drop you off at your room, at least?” 

Uraraka understood where he was coming from, but it was really important for him to know that he had friends here. 

That was what she told herself, at least. It was partly selfish, too. She wanted to know he would be okay. To reassure herself that whatever happened, it was in the past. She was here now, and she could protect him. 

“...Yeah,” Deku agreed after a thoughtful pause, shooting her a small smile. “Thanks. For… y’know.” 

“Punching Bakugou in the face?” Uraraka asked brightly. Deku snorted. 

“I mean— that too, I guess? I never… Ah, it’s so weird. No one ever stood up to Kacchan before, you know? Not even the teachers. Not that I ever wanted — I mean, sometimes , I wished that— I don’t know. It’s just… different.”

Uraraka hummed, putting an arm around Izuku as they walked. He huddled closer; he always took to physical affection like a duck to water. Mostly. At least after he stopped bursting into flames at the simple presence of a girl in the room. 

Boys, huh. 

They walked to the dorm in relative silence, save for Deku muttering under his breath. She couldn’t make out the words he was saying, but she didn’t try to, either. He had a lot to think about, and besides, she didn’t really understand his thought process regarding the situation. 

It didn’t make sense to her how Deku was so nice to Bakugou. How he looked up to him or still called him ‘Kacchan’. He could have probably told someone at U.A. when the entrance results came out and gotten him kicked out, right? Or at the very least explained the situation a little. In the light of Bakugou being Deku’s bully, not just a rival, a lot of events that happened in the past were… questionable, at the very least. 

Like Bakugou blowing him up during their first Hero Training class. Izuku had been really hurt then. She remembered bounding back down to the floor below, high off of having secured the rocket from the villain team, to see him broken and being dragged onto a stretcher. The nausea she’d felt then wasn’t from an overuse of her quirk. 

In fact, the only reason she tolerated Bakugou was because he never underestimated her. As Denki put it, he had ‘the personality of a steaming pile of garbage’, but at least he had the decency to recognise others as threats, to see strength in others unlike every other Bakugou-type egotistical asshole she had seen. 

But… that was never how he reacted to Deku, was it? Now that she thought back on it, he was constantly looking down on Deku, despite how powerful Deku very undeniably was. She had been so wrapped up in herself, and in that she was finally being viewed as an actual opponent, that she hadn’t stopped to consider that Bakugou didn’t extend that same courtesy to everyone. 

Deku paused and tapped her shoulder, dragging her out of his thoughts. 

“Uraraka,” he murmured. “We’re here.” 

“Huh? Oh.” She paused, frowning at Deku. He looked like he was just barely subduing a laugh. “What?” she asked. He shook his head, and she poked him in the side. 

“It’s just…” he pinched his lips together, that laugh welling up closer and closer to the surface. “You were muttering,” he told her. Uraraka scrunched up her nose. 

“I… I was not,” she protested, in a mock affronted tone. “Hey, no way. The Quirk just ended early, right?” She  prodded him in the cheek. “This is just you testing out your rediscovered ability to lie.” 

That seemed to be the tipping point, and he began laughing in earnest. She smacked him on the shoulder. “I was not muttering, Deku,” Uraraka insisted emphatically. “I’m not you!”

“You really were, though,” he said, gripping her shoulders and pushing her forward through the dorm doors. 

“Oh my God. Oh, I can’t deal with this. What’s next, green hair? Green is not my colour, Deku. I cannot pull off green,” she wailed at him over her shoulder, letting her weight fall entirely onto Deku. He had a strength Quirk, he would manage. “Freckles, maybe , but green? Definitely not.” 

He chuckled, and she felt inordinately pleased with herself. As she was raising her hand to her forehead to swoon dramatically, she felt him still, hands going rigid where they gripped her.  Not hard enough to hurt, though; Deku would never hurt her. 

She swung her head around to where he was looking.

Kirishima.

He was holding the door open, smiling uncertainly, like he hadn’t just undone all the progress she had made with Deku in a matter of seconds.

Kirishima technically hadn’t done anything wrong. Logically, it was understandable, wanting to believe the best about your best friend, and it wasn’t like Kirishima immediately went on the defensive in favour of Bakugou. He just followed him around insisting that there must have been more to the story.

But Uraraka wasn’t much in the mood for logic at the moment, and Deku seemed scared.  She straightened up and hooked her arm through Deku's elbow to lead him inside, shoving past him. She didn’t get it, but she would be damned if she didn’t protect him now.

Kirishima, hard headed as ever, bounded up right to them. Deku seemed to shrivel up, folding in on himself. 

“Sorry,” Uraraka said, unkindly. “But Deku isn’t really up for company right now.” 

Kirishima flinched.

“It’s okay, Uraraka,” Deku assured, soothing her with a pat on the arm. “But I should— I should go, anyway. Thanks for walking with me.” 

He stiffly walked away from them in the direction of the stairs, back rigid and posture guarded. He didn’t meet Kirishima’s eyes as he walked past him. 

“Sorry,” Kirishima murmured when Deku had left, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to upset him or anything. I just wanted to say hi. Was that… He rushed away from me, right?” 

Uraraka sighed. Why did Kirishima always have to seem so genuine?

“I don’t know,” Uraraka said. “But probably not. I mean, he wasn’t around for you trying to  make excuses for Bakugou, anyway, and he’s too forgiving to stay mad even if he was.” 

Kirishima groaned. “I’m not— I’m not trying to make excuses for him. Bakugou, I mean. I’m just trying to understand.” 

“Yeah. I get it.” Uraraka moved to brush past Kirishima as well, but she stopped at the desolate look on his face. She sighed again. 

“Look, it's understable, pushing for an explanation. It's hard to change your mindset on a person immediately, I guess," Uraraka placated. “And for what it’s worth, maybe Bakugou has changed, I don’t know. He’s nice with you.” 

From Kirishima’s expression, it seemed like he knew she was just being kind. He grimaced. 

“Yeah. I don’t know. It’s just that… Midoriya looked scared of me, just then. I wouldn’t— I mean, I would never blame him for whatever happened. I don’t want him to think that I, I dunno, would just blindly follow Bakugou to do whatever. He’s my friend, yeah, but that’s because of who I thought he was. If I got that wrong, then I’d rethink the friendship too.” 

Uraraka shot him a soft smile at the admission. “That’s… good. Just give Deku some time before you try and apologize. Especially since the Quirk is still active.” 

Kirishima nodded earnestly, and Uraraka made her way toward the stairs.

If someone was going through a tough time, and they definitely wanted to be alone during said tough time, then you left them alone. Doing anything but that would just not be manly. Kirishima knew that. 

But he just couldn’t get the look on Midoriya’s face out of his mind. He looked… He looked scared . No one has ever looked at him like that, especially not a friend of his. He didn’t understand it at all. But he had to, and he had to fix whatever was wrong. 

Clearly, the thing to do here was to complain to Kaminari. His bro got a lot of flack for being dumb, but Kaminari could be really good with people. 

“I just… don’t know what I did,” Kirishima whined from Kaminari’s bed. Kaminari hummed around the phone charger he held in his mouth. "Midoriya and I have always been buds, y'know? Like, we don't hang out often, but we get along! And now suddenly he's looking at me like I'm, I don't know, a villain or something." 

Kaminari leaned his head back against the bed, peering at Kirishima from the floor. “Well,” he said, cable clattering to the ground. “I mean… You’re a big strong guy, right? And… If Bakugou really was. I mean, if he was, y’know.” 

He gestured vaguely. Kirishima frowned. 

“Just spit it out, dude. It’s fine, whatever it is.” 

Kaminari looked extremely uncomfortable as he spoke, shifting to face Kirishima. “Bullies… cliche as it is, they have lackeys, don’t they? I mean, the ones I’ve seen. So maybe Midoriya thought… I don’t know, that you’d follow Bakugou’s lead on this. Be a big bruiser type of guy. Which obviously you’d never do, but like, Bakugou’s never really talked about having other friends before, just ‘annoying fucks that followed him around.’ Sure, he talks about us like that too, but it’s different, I dunno. I don’t think he had, like, actual friends before, just… followers, I guess.” 

That. That was the moment that it really hit Kirishima. 

Holy shit. Bakugou used to bully Midoriya. Bakugou actually used to bully Midoriya. He used to kick him, punch him, use his Quirk on him; forget not being manly, that was straight up illegal . 

This whole time, it felt like Kirishima had been walking around without having understood what the words meant. Like he'd been focusing on everything but Bakugou, or what he had apparently done. 

“Do you… Do you think Bakugou is really capable of all that?” Kirishima asked, voice wavering. “I mean, I’m not doubting Midoribro, obviously, he was under a Quirk. And even if he wasn’t, he isn’t the type to lie about this stuff. But… dude, it’s Katsuki. The same dude that fucking holds a study group each weekend for our dumb asses. The same dude that goes to bed at like 8 like an old man. Like shit, he’s constantly going off about heroism and becoming a better person and stuff! Sure, he can be an asshole, but…” 

Kaminari winced. “Well. Everyone… Everyone is different depending on the person they’re around, y’know? And you were there back during that hero villain exercise. At the start of our hero classes, I mean. You saw how he was then. He’s mellowed out over the past couple of months, but that was pretty telling of his relationship with Midoriya before U.A.” 

Kirishima suddenly felt very, very, useless. He remembered back in school, how he’d watched two girls get harassed by a villain and had stayed frozen, unable to move, to help. Mina had arrived, Mina had saved them, while he had just watched . 

It was the same feeling all over again. He told himself he’d never make the same mistake again, and he meant that. He couldn’t just let Bakugou walk away, refusing to explain, just because he wasn’t manly enough to stand firm and demand an answer. 

“I’m going to go talk to Bakugou,” he told Kaminari. 

“That’s… That’s a good idea. I would offer to join, but if there’s anyone he’d listen to, it’s you.” 

Kirishima nodded, jaw set. Right. Everyone was always telling Kirishima that Bakugou respected him. It was time to see if that was true… and to see if Kirishima could still respect Bakugou. 

I can do this , Kirishima told himself, taking a moment in front of Bakugou’s door. I’m a hero, too.  

He opened the door without bothering to knock. Bakugou never locked it, anyway: people were way too scared of him to just barge in. In retrospect, maybe that should have told him something. 

“The fuck, Shitty Hair?” Bakugou snarled, putting down a set of weights. Kirishima ignored him, slamming the door shut and walking in. “Sure, make yourself comfortable.” Bakugou crossed his arms.  “You want me to take your coat, your fucking Majesty?” 

If anyone else besides Kirishma had been at the door, they would have definitely received a blow to the face. Kirishima used to take pride in that. That pride felt so self-centred now. Like he only cared about what happened to himself. 

“You… When I first met you, I thought 'man, this guy is the best of the best. He’s totally going to be the number one hero.'” 

“The fuck? What are you—” 

“I used to strive to be more like you. I know I wasn’t the only one. But I was so busy running behind you that I never got to see your true face, huh?”

Bakugou went silent, closing off just like before. Talking wouldn’t work here. Kirishima could talk until his throat stopped working, but it wouldn’t be of any use if Bakugou refused to listen. 

Fine. Kirishima would say it in a way Bakugou would understand. 

He surged forward, shoving Bakugou against the wall. Bakugou’s response was immediate, launching an explosion at his face, but this was not a fight he was going to win. Their Quirks were too well-matched, Kirishima’s hardening a perfect defensive counter.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, only to be tackled to the ground with a thud. Kirishima flipped them over again, pinning Bakugou’s wrists to the ground, flattening his palms against the ground to suppress his explosions. 

“What reason did you have to bully Midoriya? Because you did, didn’t you? It’s written all over your face.” 

Kirishima saw the cords of muscle in Bakugou’s neck tense, and he hardened his face right before being headbutted. The force was enough to get his head to move back slightly, but not much else, and Bakugou received a cut to the eyebrow for his efforts. Bakugou seemed to barely register the injury— or the blood starting to well up at his brow— immediately following it up by kneeing Kirishima in the stomach. 

“Dude, stop. You’re only going to hurt yourself,” Kirishima warned, shifting his weight onto Bakugou’s knees in the hopes of keeping him down. 

“Shut up and die,” Bakugou snarled in response, palms crackling against the floor threateningly. Kirishima pressed down harder against the back of Bakugou’s hands. 

“Do you want to blow out the floor? What the hell, just stop already. You’ll get us both in trouble!”

Bakugou continued to struggle against Kirishima, but there wasn’t much he could do. The environment was too constrained, and Kirishima too determined, an immovable force. There was no denying that this wasn’t a fight Bakugou was particularly keen on winning, either. Kirishima thought back to when Bakugou had just let Uraraka tackle him. It was like he was resigned to his fate… that had to mean that Bakugou realized he was wrong, right?

“C’mon,” Kirishima pleaded. “I’m your friend, aren’t I? I know I am. Say what you want, but we’re friends, and I know you, at least a little. Just talk to me.” 

Kirishima met Bakugou’s eyes, imploring and firm in the face of his anger. The fight seeped out of Bakugou until he lay limp on the ground. Kirishima continued holding him in place anyway. Bakugou was constantly thinking ahead, and he didn’t trust himself to figure out what Bakugou was going to do next. 

“You must have had a reason,” Kirishima prodded. 

He just watched as Bakugou’s jaw tensed and untensed, reaching for what to say and coming up empty. 

“It wasn’t what Mina said, right? Jealousy? You’re not that type.” Kirishima asked, throwing him a bone. “If you thought he was stronger than you, then you would have tried to beat him, sure, but by raising yourself up, not bringing him down.” 

“Raise myself up? What a joke,” Bakugou laughed sarcastically. There was something in the way his posture shifted — in the way Bakugou tilted his head back and sneered — that unsettled Kirishima.

“He was always a Deku,” Bakugou continued. “Always trailing behind. If there was anyone playing catch-up, it was him.” 

Kirishima frowned. Right, when Midoriya joined U.A, his Quirk was still breaking his bones every time he used it. It made sense that a kid would be hesitant to use it, if he was even allowed to. 

“Then why…?” 

Bakugou looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. Kirishima let go, climbing off of Bakugou. Since it seemed like Bakugou was finally talking, they might as well have this conversation on a place that wasn’t the floor. 

He held a hand out for Bakugou to take. 

Bakugou blanched at the sight, hesitating. Geez, what a stubborn guy. There’s not wanting to rely on others, and then there’s… this. He kept his arm outstretched, though, waiting. 

Finally, Bakugou took it, allowing Kirishima to haul him off of the floor. Somehow, it felt like a victory. 

“Talk,” Kirishima instructed. Bakugou frowned at him, crossing his arms. “Talk, Katsuki,” Kirishima insisted. 

“You don’t understand what he was like, okay?” Bakugou bit out, frustrated. “He was always looking down on me. No matter how much I ground him into the dirt, or shoved him away, he always thought he was better than me.” 

Kirishima stared in disbelief. Were they really talking about the same person? Hell, he’d seen Midoriya freak out over a dude whose Quirk was to literally just slide on the floor when on all fours the other day. He saw good in everything and everyone. Not to mention Midoriya’s very blatant admiration of both Bakugou’s abilities and his will. 

“...If you think that, then you’re an idiot,” Kirishima said. “He’s never once—”

“Don’t fucking talk like you know shit about our history. It pisses me the fuck off,” Bakugou growled in response. 

“What, you’re telling me Midoriya was some stuck-up asshole that always looked down on you, but the second you stepped into U.A., the roles reversed? Don’t get me wrong, you’re one of my best friends here, but you have to know that if there’s anyone looking down on anyone between the two of you, you’re the culprit.” 

Bakugou grimaced. He aggressively wiped his brow with the back of his hand, smearing the blood against his temple. 

“You don’t get it, okay? He used to be Q— He was just— He was a pebble!”

“What are you even talking about?”

“He was supposed to be nothing more than a pebble in my path,” Bakugou emphasized. He seemed almost frantic, words tumbling out thoughtlessly. “He was a powerless little loser as a kid, and he was supposed to stay that way . I was the only kid strong enough at Aldera to get into U.A., okay? But now he’s standing here too, at U.A.,  fucking looking down on me from All Might’s side! He should never have been able to—” 

As Bakugou spoke, Kirishima felt that rage grow within him again. It was tinged with the bitter scent of disappointment. Had he really been that wrong about his friend? This entire time he’d thought that maybe Bakugou had a reason, an explanation. Just something to let him know that Bakugou wasn’t just pointlessly abusing a friend because he thought they were weak. 

“That— that was your issue? Do you really think you can save anyone if you’re constantly looking down on them?” 

“Shut up! It’s not like that.” 

“Oh yeah? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, it sure sounds like that! I know he couldn’t really use his Quirk, but… is that all it takes to make someone weak in your eyes?”

“The issue wasn’t that he was fucking weak, it was—” 

“That he refused to accept it? That no matter how much you pushed him down, he got back up, right?” 

“...” 

Kirishima took a step backwards. 

“That’s… That’s awful, Katsuki.” 

Bakugou said nothing, and for once, Kirishima was grateful for it. 

“That kind of behaviour… It’s not hero-like at all. It’s not manly at all. That’s… That’s a child throwing a temper tantrum because no one let him blow the candles out at his brother’s birthday party.” 

“The fuck kind of metaphor is that?” 

“Dude, shut up .” Kirishima looked at Bakugou disbelievingly. “You… I— You…” he shook his head. He didn’t know how to deal with this. Why the fuck was Bakugou hung up on what kind of metaphor he was using? Didn’t he get it? How could he spew so much bullshit and still act like he was in the right?  

“Kirishima…” Bakugou warned. Kirishima shook his head again, making for the door. 

“No. Just. Just no. Being a man isn’t about being right all the time, you know. It’s about recognizing when you’re wrong and fixing it . Call me when you decide to grow the fuck up and be a decent human being.” 

He walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Chapter Text

“That sucks, man,” a familiar smarmy voice called out from the doorway. Katsuki turned around, gritting his teeth, to see Mineta staring at him sympathetically. 

“The fuck do you want?” Katsuki snarled. 

“Oh, y’know. I was just hanging out in my room, relaxing, when I hear all these grunts from the room over. Came to check it out. I have to say, I was disappointed,” Mineta said, clicking his tongue. “I was hoping for something a little more… interesting.” 

“Yeah, well, sorry my fucking life falling apart ain’t interesting enough for you. Next time I’ll be sure to hire a clown car for the occasion,” Katsuki bit out. He’d never regretted living next door to Mineta as much as he did now, which was saying a lot considering he regularly asked himself whether the jail sentence would be worth the payoff of killing the fucker.  

Mineta’s brows furrowed. 

“Hey, so I know we’re not the closest of friends…” 

“What in the fuck gave you the idea that we are in any way friends-” 

“But if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.” Mineta seemed sincere, too. As sincere as that pervert’s face got. 

That was Katsuki’s limit. Did Mineta seriously think he was so low he’d need comfort from someone like him? What the hell gave the bastard the right to act like they were friends in any way, that he could just walk up to his room and open his stupid mouth around him?

He tried to reel some of the anger in, considering the recent ‘talk’ he had with Kirishima, but…  surely nobody would complain if he tossed Mineta around a little, him being the fucking persona non grata that he is.

Katsuki took great joy in physically throwing him out into the hall, and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Mineta being stuck to the corridor by his weird-as-fuck head-balls.

The rest of the day was… boring. Katsuki would never admit it out loud, not even under the threat of death, but he’d gotten used to the idiots that hung around him. He wasn’t lonely, per se, and it was a relief to have some fuckin’ silence around once in a while, but… it felt weird. Unnatural.

The silence also meant there was nothing to distract himself with. Kirishima’s words kept running through his mind. More than that, Kirishima’s face- that disappointed, hurt, expression… He tried to bury the thoughts, focusing on the worksheets Aizawa had Iida hand out. That didn’t work out for long; Aizawa could be a task master on individual exercises, but worksheets were the same for everyone. They were designed so even idiots like Dunce-Face could solve ‘em. That left Katsuki staring at the completed sheet in under twenty minutes, right back where he started with a million thoughts running through his head. 

He knew what he’d done was wrong. At first, he’d stopped fucking with Deku because he couldn’t bear to look at the nerd’s face after the sludge monster incident. And it wasn’t like he’d chased the nerd down to beat him up, half the time it was Deku fucking running up to him being annoying, talking about how he wanted to be a hero or writing in those stupid notebooks of his or sticking his nose in when he had a fight to pick with someone else. So when the nerd had started making himself scarce — apparently to train with fuckin’ All Might — he hadn’t bothered to follow him. 

Sure, before that, he shoved Deku around a bit. That didn’t mean he was a villain , though. He’d made a few mistakes, yeah, but he was still a goddamn hero, not some fucking petty bully. 

The looks he got when he went to the common room to drop his worksheets off would suggest otherwise. Momo and Jirou looked away as they passed him in the hallway, very pointedly ignoring him. The Tail-Bastard had gone and grown a pair of yellow-furred balls to match apparently, glaring at him as he slapped his work down with everyone else’s on the table. 

Hell, even Dunce-Face took a break from molesting Tail-Bastard’s tail to shoot him a disappointed look. ‘I expected better from you’, his eyes seemed to say. 

Tch. Who the hell made these guys the moral police? He'd stopped, right? The fuck were they hung up on the past for? 

Still, he couldn’t help but avert his eyes, refusing to meet the glares head on. He decided he might as well take a walk. There wasn’t any more work to be done, so he might as well take a jog to make up for their skipped hero classes. It’s not like there was anyone left that was willing to even talk to him, let alone spar with. Well, apparently no one except fuckin’ Mineta . 

He couldn’t help but involuntarily grimace at the thought. The only person willing to put up with him was Mineta? Seriously? He clenched his teeth as he laced his shoes with more force than necessary. If nothing else had him rethinking his life, this would be it. 

Besides… Kirishima had tackled him. And Kirishima was not the type to attack without provocation. He was all about that everyone-hold-hands-and-say-kumbaya life. Sure, Kirishima didn’t really understand the whole situation, but… 

Maybe… He’d have to consider… 

Katsuki sighed. He found himself in front of the main U.A. building, and almost unwillingly, he entered it. Of course, 1-A was the only one exempt from classes. It wasn’t lunch yet, so there weren’t many students milling around the hallway, but every class was undoubtedly going to be full. 

He made his way to 1-A, entering and slamming the door shut behind him. Looking around the classroom, empty as it was, it was surprisingly… normal.  If you were shown a picture of the room with no context, there’s no way you’d guess it belonged to the prestigious U.A. It could belong to any middle or high school in the country. 

In fact… It wasn’t that different from his classroom in Aldera. He could picture the annoying shitheads from there in the seats, and it would look no different. He could picture Deku, too, the scrawny trembling one in his gakuran. 

Of course, that brought back memories of that incident. The one that Deku didn’t reveal to the rest of the class. Would Kirishima have stopped where he did if he’d known what Bakugou said to Deku? Maybe even Mineta would avoid him if he’d known that Katsuki hadn’t so much as flinched at Deku’s distressed expression, had continued to taunt him. Even his lackeys back then had thought he’d gone too far.

Tch. 

Unthinkingly, he reached out and slowly pushed a chair. He watched it tip forward and briefly balance on its front legs, frozen mid-fall, before clattering to the ground. He watched it fall impassively. 

“If you continue doing that, Aizawa will have you by the scruff for property damage.” 

Katsuki whipped his head around to see All Might’s gaunt silhouette at the doorway. 

“Sorry,” Katsuki said gruffly, but made no move to pick up the chair. He turned away to look at the window. All Might apparently took that as permission to enter, strolling in and nudging the door shut with his foot behind him.

“Anything you need to talk about, young Bakugou?” All Might asked, clasping his shoulder. Katsuki refused to meet his eyes. 

After all, All Might… That was also… his fault… 

“Could it be something relating to young Midoriya, by chance?” All Might prompted. Katsuki huffed.

“So, Aizawa spilled, then?” he asked, turning around to look at All Might. 

“I’m capable of figuring things out myself, y’know,” All Might complained. “After all, young Midoriya was under a truth Quirk. The both of you have a complicated relationship, even I know that, so it’s not difficult to assume something was revealed.” All Might paused. “I’m assuming it’s not-” 

“Nah, your secret is safe, old man. It’s about me.” Katsuki waved him off. The two of them stood in silence. 

 “Have you-” Katsuki asked, frowning at the floor. “Have you ever… made a mistake that’s not… not the kind of mistake a hero should make?” 

All Might’s brows furrowed in thought. “Well… I’ve made plenty of mistakes, I assure you. Mistakes that I’ll live to regret for the rest of my life. But I’m not quite sure what you mean by the kind of mistake a hero should make.” 

Well, if you aren’t a hero, you’re a villain, right? A villainous mistake, that’s what I’m talking about . But Katsuki couldn’t say that. Not to All Might. 

“Just don’t worry about it,” Katsuki mumbled. He made a move to leave. As expected, he couldn’t talk about this stuff to All Might. 

“Young Bakugou,” All Might said, stopping him. Irrespective of how his body looked, All Might’s eyes and voice were still that of the Symbol of Peace. “I don’t fully understand your relationship with young Midoriya, but… allow me to give you some advice. If you don’t like where the two of you are right now, then… it might be helpful to figure out how you got there.” 

How they got there, huh. That was… Deku looking down on him, wasn’t it? But Kirishima said… 

“You look like you have a lot to think about.” All Might said, gently, releasing him. “I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Y-yeah. Thanks.” 

Chapter Text

“All Might.” Aizawa’s voice rang firm through the staff room, startling Toshinori out of his thoughts. 

“Aizawa?” 

“We have to talk.” 

Toshinori met his eyes. The expression in them mirrored his own. 

 “...Yes. Yes, I think we do.” He paused to glance at Kayama and Yamada, who were also in the staff room. They’d be able to hear everything they said. “But perhaps somewhere else might be more fitting—”

“We’re his teachers too.” Kayama crossed her arms. “Midoriya, I mean. This is a staff matter.” 

“Keeping us out of the loop is no good,” Yamada agreed. He was calm, unsettlingly so. 

“I see.” 

Toshinori hummed. The three of them were quite close, after all. He doubted there were many secrets between them.They had probably discussed the matter amongst themselves already. “Then shall we sit down?” 

“I’ve had the conference room cleared out,” Aizawa responded. “Though this might be presumptuous on my part, I am expecting that we might discuss… delicate issues.” Aizawa didn’t wait for a response, sweeping out of the room immediately after; the other two followed quickly behind. Toshinori sighed and followed them. It seemed like the decision had been made for him. 

The U.A. conference room was empty when they entered. Plain blue wallpaper, a set of 3 rectangular tables arranged to form a U, and normal office chairs, it hardly stood out from any other meeting room. 

“Are Principal Nezu and the other teachers not joining us?” Toshinori asked, taking a seat.  

Of course, considering this was U.A., the room’s inconspicuous appearance was hiding something far more impressive — a state-of-the-art security system with the best anti-spy technology the nation’s greatest had to offer. 

“We figured you’d want to keep this to as few people as possible. The Principal declined attending; he’s probably figured out whatever it is, anyway. The rest have agreed to sit this one out so long as we tell them whatever’s important regarding the safety of the students,” Yamada explained. 

 Aizawa, Kayama, and Yamada seated themselves directly opposite him. “I see,” Toshinori murmured, bowing his head slightly. This was starting to feel more and more like an interrogation. And with their emphasis on discretion… he was starting to get an idea of what they were really here to talk about. 

“Let me get to the point, All Might,” Aizawa said firmly. “There is a connection between you and Midoriya Izuku. That much is undeniable. There is also a connection between Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou. Now, I’m unsure which of these is causing him distress at this moment, but either way— we are out of our depth as teachers when we try to act without all the pieces of the puzzle. We are going in blind here. Do you understand that?” 

“What young Midoriya is dealing with now is unrelated to me. I assure you—” 

“While that might be the case,” Kayama cut in, “whatever is happening now is merely a symptom of a larger problem. We’ve been unable to deal with it until now, considering everything this batch has had to deal with, but…” She paused, tapping her chin. “How do I put it… We have a duty to these students, perhaps one greater than any other teacher does. We are sending them out into one of the deadliest professions in the world. It isn’t enough that we act as educators. There are other aspects of their lives we need to attend to, especially as teachers in the Hero Course.”

Toshinori nodded. This, he understood. Being a teacher at U.A., especially now with the students settled at Heights Alliance… They had a huge responsibility to ensure these students were ready for the world. But… 

“I don’t understand what that has to do with my connection to young Midoriya.”

“You wouldn’t,” Aizawa grumbled. 

“Shouta!” Yamada scolded. Toshinori winced, both at Yamada’s volume and at Aizawa’s coldness. 

“No, no.” Toshinori waved Yamada off. “He’s right. I might have been the Number One in heroics, but when it comes to teaching, I am woefully out of my depth.” 

“What do you know about the way Quirkless kids are treated today, Toshinori?” Kayama asked. Toshinori blinked at the non-sequitur. 

“Well, they certainly face more bullying than they used to. Er, and they have higher suicide rates too, don’t they? As a result of the bullying. Even during our time, when it was more common…” 

“Exactly. Much higher. You see how something like that would affect a student’s mental health, right?” Kayama crossed her arms. “Not to mention, Quirkless students are often excluded from mandatory activities their Quirked peers have to participate in. For example, Quirk training.” 

Ah. 

“How much have you figured out, exactly?” Toshinori asked. 

“I’m an underground hero, All Might,” Aizawa said. “I hear things that other heroes aren’t privy to, and I have access to information sources that others don't. Even prior to the events of Kamino Ward, I was doing my part to figure out who we were up against. And then, well… I have seen very few circumstances where a person simply loses their Quirk.” Aizawa’s stare was piercing, insistent. Toshinori gulped. 

“All Might. Was Midoriya Quirkless before you gave him your Quirk?” 

So this was it. Toshinori could lie, of course, and he wanted to, but… After Kamino Ward… He couldn’t abandon Midoriya. And if something did happen to him — all the more likely now, as the weak and vulnerable former Symbol of Peace — Izuku deserved someone to guide him. One for All was Izuku’s secret now, too, and Toshinori had to recognize that. 

And, well, after all the silence, it was probably too late to lie anyway. 

“Yes. Right until the day of the entrance exam.” His colleagues’ disappointment was almost palpable.

“God fucking dammit.” The exasperated voice belonged not to Aizawa, but to Yamada. “Why the hell wouldn’t you tell us this? Don’t you know how big a difference this makes?” 

Kamaya whipped around to face him.  “Yamada!” she admonished. 

“Come on, you know I’m right. Hell, even back in our day—” 

“And presumably, he hasn’t received any Quirk training prior to U.A.,” Aizawa added coolly. 

“I’ve been teaching him as a mentor—” Toshinori tried to explain over their voices.

“That isn’t the same,” Aizawa glared. “On the first day, had it not been for Midoriya’s ingenuity, I would have expelled him. I assumed his lack of control over his Quirk was due to a poor work ethic. Had I known that he had only recently received his Quirk, my approach would have been entirely different.” 

“Not to mention, as the Symbol of Peace, you have quite a target on your back,” Kayama said, clasping her hands and leaning forward. “Had something happened to you, Midoriya would have lost any chance of having that guidance within these walls. Would we have been able to teach him while being unaware of the intricacies of his Quirk?”

Toshinori lowered his head. He felt like a chastised child. He should have given more thought to the situation, much sooner than he did. He’d assumed that everything would be fine, since he’d been around to guide the kid, but— No, even then. He couldn’t be the only mentor to Izuku. Izuku had potential, more than, but it took a variety of influences and experiences to truly grow. 

“That’s not the only matter.” Aizawa picked up a remote on the table, pressing a button. A projection screen lowered from the ceiling. “In an attempt to better understand the relationship between Bakugou and Midoriya, I began looking into all the information we had regarding their interactions. As you’re aware, every one of our facilities is constantly monitored. I thought perhaps their interactions when the teachers weren’t around would shed some light on the matter.” 

Toshinori leaned forward in his seat. Here was something he didn’t know about. He had to admit, he didn’t know much of what was happening now with his class, with Izuku. The kid trusted him, sure, but he hardly ever opened up about his personal life. For someone who seemed so open, he could be startlingly closed off, especially when he needed help. 

“And?” Toshinori asked impatiently. 

“Well, their interaction is… minimal to say the least.” 

Toshinori slumped in his seat. “So we have nothing.” 

“It isn’t nothing,” Yamada argued. “Midoriya is extremely social, and appears to get along with pretty much everyone but Bakugou. If he’s avoiding Bakugou, there must be a reason. It’s no stretch to assume the two of them have a history. After all, they did go to the same middle school, and they live pretty close to each other.” 

“Good point, Hizashi. But that wasn’t all I found. While I was reviewing the tapes, I watched a recording of their first heroics class together, and the aftermath.” Aizawa pressed another button, and a city was projected onto the screen. No, not a city— Ground Beta. “The students were set up for a mock battle, and Midoriya and Bakugou were placed on opposing teams. The two of them ended up in a… well, to call it an altercation would be putting it mildly. You can watch it for yourself.”

Aizawa pressed play. Toshinori watched his successor get beaten up again, unable to defend himself with anything but a power that would destroy him far more efficiently than his classmate could. 

 “Simply put, it was an all-out brawl that ended with Midoriya having to visit Recovery Girl for three broken bones in his right arm,” Aizawa said, pausing on an image of Izuku being carried out on a stretcher. 

Toshinori felt the three teachers glare at him — no, the three heroes . 

“The supervising teacher was you, All Might. There were multiple moments where anyone else would have decided to draw the line and call the fight to a stop. So… why didn’t you?” 

“I—” 

“I’ll admit, a part of the blame falls on me. As their homeroom teacher, I should have reviewed the tapes sooner. I was operating under the assumption that I would be informed by my colleagues should any major problem arise, but clearly, I was mistaken.” 

Toshinori wilted under the heat of those stares. “He was— he was okay, Recovery Girl—” 

“Has informed the staff that Midoriya Izuku is at risk of losing functioning of his arms due to repeated injury. Although his fight with Muscular may have been the last straw, it was not the sole cause. You are aware of this.” 

“I just can’t tell what you were thinking, man!” Yamada burst out. “I mean… when Bakugou refused to listen to you over and over again, that should have been a sign. You didn’t have enough of a read on his character to know that he wouldn’t cause any serious damage, not at the time. I mean, he did cause serious damage. What were you thinking? ” 

“I… I knew that as a teacher, I should stop him. I kept thinking that… that I should. But as a mentor… Thinking about Midoriya as the next Symbol of Peace…” Toshinori tugged at his shirt collar. It felt tighter, somehow. Harder to breathe. “I just thought that this was the first time I had seen him fired up about something other than his dream. That this was… a crucial moment for him as a hero.” 

“Jesus.” 

“He and Bakugou have always had a rivalry, and this was his chance to face him—” 

“Rivalry or not, it was irresponsible. Either one of them could have gotten hurt—” Aizawa cut in. 

“And this was their first class! They should not have walked away from their first class like this. I get it, this is U.A., Plus Ultra , but—” Yamada added. 

“Your actions were even worse if you knew that the two of them had a ‘rivalry’,” Aizawa said. “You knew Midoriya was Quirkless prior to U.A., and that Bakugou had known him for significantly longer. Are you really sure that it was a rivalry?” 

“Not to mention, when you think about—” 

“Boys!” Kayama slammed her hand down on the table. “Give the man a chance to speak.” 

The room collapsed into silence. Toshinori tugged at his collar again. 

“I’m… sorry. I had to make a quick decision, and I clearly made the wrong one. Had I known what I know now, and that my actions would add to the way young Midoriya’s arms are now…” Toshinori shook his head. “I have a lot to learn. And it isn’t fair that the students bear the cost of my inexperience.” 

He would have bowed had they not been seated. Instead, he rested his head against the table, awaiting judgement. It was only about a minute before the silence was broken, but it felt like a decade. 

“It’s not us that you need to apologize to.” Aizawa sighed. “And I’m to blame as well. While I might not have been present for that class, the practical exams are a wholly different matter. I was the one to pair Midoriya and Bakugou against you.” 

“Huh?” Toshinori raised his head up, staring at Aizawa in confusion. “You said that was to foster a better relationship between the two of them, right?  I thought it was a good idea.  Why are you bringing that up now?” 

“I see. Even now, you don’t understand.” 

Kayama smacked Aizawa. It was starting to feel a little like she was their handler. 

“Well, to put it simply… Shouta is questioning whether their relationship was a mere rivalry.” Kayama said. Aizawa nodded. 

“What you said earlier, about Midoriya being Quirkless…” 

“A rivalry implies standing on the same ground,” Aizawa explained. “To be a Quirkless person is to be physically weaker, especially against someone like Bakugou. And this isn’t an academic rivalry between the two of them.” 

It took a minute for the words to process. When they did, Toshinori felt his heart freeze and sink down into his stomach. 

“Hold on,” Yamada protested. “Bakugou may be a little rough around the edges, but I find it difficult to picture what you’re suggesting.”

Toshinori couldn’t help but agree with Yamada. “Midoriya has young Bakugou on quite a pedestal. He holds him in high regard. And he trusts him, too, completely. I’m sure of this.” 

“Be that as it may, there’s no denying that Bakugou has a tendency towards violent behaviour, and that Midoriya doesn’t value his health and well-being as much as he should. We’ve seen outright self-destructive behaviour from him.” Aizawa paused, sighing heavily. “I’ve said it myself, I have faith in Bakugou. I don’t believe he’s a villain. But I speak for the Bakugou I know today. There’s no telling what has happened in the past.”

“So, you don’t know anything about it then?” Kayama asked. Toshinori shook his head. 

“N—no, not at all. I did meet Midoriya prior to U.A., that’s true, but… In fact, on the day I met him, he saved young Bakugou from a villain.” 

“The sludge villain incident!” Yamada exclaimed. “Hm. Funny, that article never mentioned Midoriya’s name. But he was Quirkless at the time, I suppose.” 

“We’re getting off topic. Has anyone here witnessed any notable incidents between the two?” Aizawa asked. 

Kayama rested her chin on her palm. “There was this one time in class when Bakugou used his Quirk. I teach theory, of course, so I immediately told him off, but Midoriya’s response was quite… exaggerated. I assumed he was just a nervous boy, but the rest of the class, he was definitely unsettled. Incidents like that.” 

“Bakugou doesn’t like losing to Midoriya,” Yamada said. “Well, he doesn’t like losing at all, but he doesn’t like losing to Midoriya in particular. Calls him quite a few names.”

This was all going so fast. Were they really considering this? Bakugou was… intense, sure, but Midoriya had always been able to handle it. 

It was times like these where he really felt like being a hero was a far easier job than being a teacher. 

“...Deku.” Kayama mumbled.

“Hm?” 

“Midoriya’s hero name, Deku. He said that it was a name he hated, but someone gave it a new meaning.” Kayama explained. “Do you think it was Bakugou…?” 

Yamada frowned. “He does have a fondness for nicknames…” Aizawa frowned as well, hand on his chin. He seemed to be considering something. 

“Yagi? What about you?” Kayama asked. Toshinori jumped in his seat. 

“I— uh. Like I said, I don’t know much about Midoriya’s school life. It’s never been something we talked about.” He rubbed his neck. “I wish I could be of more help.” Toshinori paused, a thought striking him. 

“Actually, young Bakugou and I had… an odd conversation, earlier today. I heard a crash from 1-A, so I went to check it out, and, well. Bakugou was there, looking unexpectedly somber. He was… He looked older. Older than he should, I mean. Troubled.” Toshinori scratched his cheek. “He asked me something odd. He asked me… if I’d ever made the kind of mistake a hero shouldn’t make. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.” 

Aizawa’s brows furrowed. “What did you tell him?” 

“That I wasn’t sure what a “heroic” mistake meant, but that I’ve made my fair share of mistakes.” 

Everyone was silent, each processing the information in front of them. 

“This doesn’t look good, Shouta,” Yamada murmured. 

“I know. I should— I should talk to him. As his homeroom teacher, it’s my duty to. Ultimately, the decision falls on me. I’m sure Nezu won’t intervene.” 

Toshinori raised his hand hesitantly. “If I may…? I know that this is partially my fault, but… I think we should wait. For a little bit.” 

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised that you’re the one to suggest that. But I do agree.” 

“You do? We’ve wasted enough time already!” Yamada stood up, slamming his hands on the table. “Look, I’m not like the two of you. I don’t have any feelings towards Bakugou, one way or another. But U.A. is not a place for bullies. If we have confirmation of the situation—” 

“But we don’t have confirmation,” Kayama interrupted. “We have a hypothesis at best. This isn’t the kind of thing you jump into without thinking; we need to be sure before we start asking questions. We could get in touch with Aldera, but seeing that Midoriya was Quirkless at the time, I doubt that will lead to anything.” 

“Midoriya’s under a truth Quirk right now, isn’t he?” Yamada asked. 

Aizawa’s capture staff whipped out, surrounding Yamada and forcing him back down into his chair. “Ow,” he complained, glasses askew, but he looked almost grateful. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. That’s unethical.” 

“If we need proof, we can call Detective Tsukauchi,” Toshinori said. “He’s a friend, and he’d be able to help us take care of matters discreetly. But I still… I don’t want to make any unfounded accusations. Midoriya is… well, as long as I’ve known him, he’s been a nervous boy, quick to flinch and shudder, but… even if he were bullied, there’s no saying that Bakugou was the one to do it.” 

“Our reasons may be different, but I think it’s better to wait as well,” Aizawa stated. “Looking back at their interactions, I don’t find it impossible to suspect Bakugou. That being said, I’d like to have a better handle on things before going into it. It’s clear that something has happened in the past couple of days, and the whole class is involved. I’d like to know what before taking the next step.”

“Right. Well, either way, we should wait until Midoriya is no longer under Tanada’s Quirk. There’s no reason to rush into things,” Kayama concluded. 

“I guess that’s it then.” 

They sat there, uncomfortable, until Yamada broke the tension with a loud yawn.

“Man, I’m beat. I haven’t heard you speak for so long a stretch in a while, Shouta,” Yamada noted, standing and stretching. It was almost scary how quickly his demeanor changed back to his usual easygoing persona. Toshinori couldn’t help but think it was for their benefit, to help lighten their spirits a little.

“Yeah. It sucked,” Aizawa mumbled, huddling back into his capture scarf. He no longer looked as serious as he did a moment ago. 

“I have plans, personally. The night is still young,” Kayama said, getting up. “Coming with, Mic? There’s this concert I was invited to, you can be my plus one.” She swung her arm around his shoulder. “We’ll sneak Shouta in, say he’s our cat.” Yamada immediately lit up, all complaints of being tired apparently forgotten as he walked with Kayama, chatting excitedly. 

Aizawa looked resigned to his fate. “Well,” he said as he made a move to get up. “Good night.” 

“Wait!” Toshinori protested. “What about— What about me?” 

“You want to come to the festival?” Aizawa asked, deadpan. “Feel free to take my place.” 

“No, I mean. Regarding their first hero class. Like you said, I was to blame. Shouldn’t I face some kind of consequence? Suspension or something? Docked pay?” 

Aizawa stared at him. 

“I’m not the principal,” he finally said. “I can’t suspend you or dock your pay or kick you out.” 

Kicking him out was on the list of options?

“But…” Aizawa scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Either way, you were just as in the dark about Bakugou and Midoriya’s relationship as we were. And you’re valuable here, even as Toshinori Yagi. The students do benefit from your teaching. I’ve brought the problem to your attention, right? So work on fixing it.” With that dismissal he walked, shoulders slumped as he followed the voices of Yamada and Kayama. 

Maybe Aizawa didn’t hate him after all. Hell, it sounded like… Maybe, maybe Aizawa even trusted him. 

He’d work to repay that trust. Perhaps in the future… Perhaps they could have a conversation about One for All. After all, if something happened to him, someone else should be able to mentor young Izuku.

Chapter Text

“If you don’t like where the two of you are right now, then… it might be helpful to figure out how you got there.” That’s what All Might had said. And if Katsuki thought about it, really thought about it… 

Well. Either way, Kirishima was right. He had to fix his mistakes, and he was more than strong enough to do so. Katsuki strode forward, continuing his journey towards Deku’s room, head held high. 

And then his eyes met Round Face and Frog Face. All three of them froze for a second, afternoon sun streaming through the large dorm windows as they stared at each other. 

He clicked his tongue and continued walking. He had more important shit to do. Before he could get far, however, he was intercepted by a forearm to the chest, forcing him against the hallway wall. 

“What the hell, Round Face?”

“What the hell me ? What the hell you ! You really think after all we’ve learned we’re going to sit still and twiddle our thumbs as you just stride into Deku’s room to do who knows what?”

Katsuki pushed off Uraraka’s arm in annoyance. 

“Fuck off. You don’t know shit about me. It isn’t like that.” 

He took another step forward. Surprisingly, this time he was stopped by Tsuyu as she stepped into his path, purpose held in the rigidity of her shoulders.  

“That doesn’t change what we do know, kero. You might not be stupid enough to bully him right now, but that doesn’t change what he’s dealing with, and it doesn’t change that it’s your fault.”

“He doesn’t even want to see us right now, you think you’re the one who’ll cheer him up?” Uraraka asked him. Katsuki’s eyes were drawn to the lunch tray in her hands. He frowned. 

“Is—”

“Besides,” Tsuyu continued pointedly. “He’s under a Quirk right now that makes him tell the truth. If you’re still his tormentor, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, even if the risks are high. And now that the whole class knows, there’s a chance you’ll be expelled anyway— why not have your fun before it happens, right?” 

Katsuki grit his teeth. He didn’t want to explain his plan of action to some useless extras, but he had no doubt they’d call the entire Deku Protection Squad up here, which… probably included the entire class at this point. There was no getting around it. 

“I’m not— I’m not here to antagonize him. I don’t know what I have to say to you to prove it, but I’m here to fucking apologize.” 

Uraraka frowned at him disbelievingly. Nothing would ever be fucking enough for these assholes, huh? And he couldn’t even complain, because they were right, and it was his goddamn fault. 

Katsuki sighed. 

“Look, just— Stay outside here and listen in. Hell, I’ll call you, okay? I’ll call you, and I’ll keep my phone in my pocket, and you can listen in like little perverts. I hang up, or I ask something I shouldn’t, you can rain hell down on me and you’ll have proof to defend whatever actions you might take.” 

Tsuyu looked at Uraraka; so she agreed with him but she’d let her friend decide. That was the way it was, then. He shot a pointed look at Uraraka. She met him head-on, eyes fiery, almost hateful. Tsuyu placed a hand on her shoulder. 

After a moment, Uraraka closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

“I… I don’t trust you, Bakugou,” Uraraka said, voice trembling with anger. “Not one bit. I think you’re a horrible little asshole who’s incapable of coming to terms with the fact that the world doesn’t revolve around you. But… That’s not how Deku sees you, and I trust him. He should be allowed to make his own decisions. And as much as I hate to admit it… Right now I think you’re the only one he’ll listen to.”

Katsuki clenched his jaw and nodded curtly. It sucked that she was right. Deku had always hung all over his words like he was a fucking god or something.

He waited for Tsuyu to call him, answering it and tucking it into his jacket pocket. It felt like it weighed more than it should, somehow. 

Uraraka shoved the lunch tray she had been holding into Katsuki’s hands. 

“Give him this. And if you— if you make this situation any worse, if you so much as hurt a hair on his head, I’ll kill you.” 

“Okay,” Katsuki agreed easily.  He started walking to Deku’s room again, distinctly aware of the eyes trained at his back. These girls were fucking creepy if they wanted to be. 

He brought his fist against Deku’s door with large, loud bangs, more pounding against it than knocking. Deku hadn’t heard any of the shit that went down in the corridor — and he hadn’t, or the nerd would have come rushing in to intervene — then he must have had his headphones on rewatching an All Might movie for the millionth time. Even after having met the man, Deku was such an otaku. 

It took him two whole minutes to get a response.  

“I—I’ll be down in a minute! You can just head to the dining hall, I’ll meet you there!”

God, that fake cheerful voice. It was pissing him off. 

“We both know that’s a lie, shithead. Open the damn door.” 

There was a pause, and then a crash, before Deku rushed to open the door. 

“Kacchan?”

Deku looked… He looked like shit. He looked frantic and wild-eyed, his hair was the worst it had ever looked, and his eyes and nose were all red from crying. 

“What the fuck, Deku? You think you’ll ever be able to battle me for Number One if you skip your meals?”

“Did you— Kacchan, did you come all the way here to bring me lunch?” Deku asked, looking shocked and a little bit touched. That was pissing him off, too. 

“Don’t thank me, Round Face and Frog-Bitch got it for you.” 

Deku’s face dropped at the nicknames. Instantly, he seemed to crumple inwards. 

“Have you even changed, Kacchan?” he asked, wearily. 

What the fuck? Since when had Deku given a damn about his nicknames? Hell, the shithead had gone and turned the name ‘Deku’ into his hero name, hadn’t he? 

“I just wanted to talk,” Katsuki said instead. He had a goal, and there was no use getting stuck on the little stuff. Deku hesitated, then moved aside and gestured for him to enter. Katsuki dropped the plate on Deku’s desk — next to the laptop paused on an All Might movie, colour him surprised — before he settled down on the bed cross-legged. 

Deku righted the chair he had probably pushed over in order to hurry and open the door. Figures, the idiot could be real clumsy sometimes. Deku dragged the chair closer to the bed and sat down on it. 

“Okay then,” Deku said. “Talk.” 

The lack of emotion in Deku’s voice… it was off-putting, to say the least. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and he never shut up about his emotions, so it was weird to hear his voice so closed off. Still, it didn’t matter how Deku felt about this as long as he just listened, so Katsuki pushed on. 

“What I did… What I did was wrong.”

“What you did? You weren’t so vague about it when you were doing “it” Kacchan. What was wrong?” 

When the fuck had this kid gone and grown a pair of balls? `

“All of it! All of it, okay? All of it was wrong. I shouldn’t have bullied you. I shouldn’t have hit you, or punched you, or done any of that shit. Even if you were an annoying ass kid—” 

His pocket coughed threateningly. Deku whipped his head to look at it in shock, peering at the faint glow emanating from his pocket.

“Whatever. Me bullying you wasn’t about what you were like, it was about what I was like.” 

“Are you on a call with someone?” Deku asked. Wasn’t the nerd listening to what he was saying? This was important.

“Yeah, Rou— Uraraka and Tsuyu. You think they’d let me here without supervision? As I was saying, I shouldn’t have done the shit I did. You were being a hero, and I was— I was being—” 

Katsuki ran a hand through his hair.

“Look, it shouldn’t have happened, okay? It was my fault, all of it. I was a real asshole. I’m sorry.” 

Deku looked up at him, brows drawn together, before he looked down at his hands and began mumbling. Katsuki waited. Finally, finally, Deku said:

“...Thank you…” 

He looked lost. All the fight seemed to seep right back out of him. 

Contrary to what people said about apologizing, Katsuki did not feel any better. If anything, this return to meekness was by far the most infuriating aspect of this whole fucking— apology mission. 

“There’s more I have to say,” Katsuki said. “To apologize about. That day, when...” 

Katsuki made a frustrated sound, the weight of his phone feeling heavier than ever. He would kill for some privacy right about now.

“Is this about…?” Deku asked, before shaking his head. “Um,” Deku started, voice louder than usual. “Thank you all for protecting me, but… there are things we need to talk about privately.” 

Katsuki’s phone beeped obligingly, call cut. He sighed imperceptibly. 

“You were saying? This is about OFA, right?” Deku asked. 

“What? No, it’s about…” Katsuki’s eyebrows knitted together. “There’s nothing more I regret than… that day. The day when I…” he looked away unable to meet his eyes. 

“When you…?” 

“God, are you determined to hear me say it? When I told you to fucking kill yourself! I didn’t mean it, and I didn’t think you’d take it to heart at the time, but I was so fucking wrong to have said it.” 

Deku let out a startled laugh. “That’s what you regret the most?” he asked incredulously. 

“What, that isn’t bad enough for you?” 

“Kacchan,” Deku said matter-of-factly. “Asking someone to kill themselves is undeniably wrong. But you’re stupid if you think that one moment was anything against being roughed up and bullied every single day. Constantly having to rewrite my notes, to lie to my mom and explain the cuts and bruises and burns away, having to formulate paths and plans to avoid your lackeys just so I could get to class on time? I promise you that took a far greater toll on me. Sure, there were no debilitating injuries, but I wasn’t strong then, not like you were, or like I am now. And this stuff chips away at you.” 

Katsuki had no response to that. He’d thought— All this time, his biggest regret, what had really stood out to him was that moment. Was it because of what happened later that day? He tells a kid to kill himself and the asshole saves him a few hours later, maybe that was why it stuck. But when Deku put it like that..

And Deku was just silent, placid, looking at his hands and fidgeting. Like hadn’t just knocked Katsuki’s world into focus, dragging him to look at his mistakes like a dog that pissed on the kitchen floor. 

He leaned forward to push his face into his own lap, barely resisting the urge to scream. This was all so frustrating . 

“K-Kacchan… Can I. Can I ask, uh…”

Katsuki ignored him, breathing deeply for a few seconds before straightening up. Izuku was looking at him like he didn’t know what he was going to do, and Katsuki hated it, hated the nervous glances and the fidgeting hands. 

“Just spit it out,” he grumbled. 

“Why?” Deku asked. “I never understood why.” 

He’d been asking himself that over the past day. No matter what, the answer was unsatisfactory. “I thought you were looking down on me.” 

Deku looked up at him, confusion clouding his features. “But I never— I never did that. I only ever looked at you in admiration.” 

So he was wrong after all. Then… 

“You always stood up to me. If I teased the other kids, or if I was a bit too mean in a playground scuffle, you’d stand in between us and try to protect them. It seemed to me like you were saying you could take me on and win. Not only were you willing to fight me, you tried to help me, too. I never thought I needed help, especially not from you.”

“Oh.” 

They fell into silence once more. Katsuki let it suffocate them.

“Oi,” he murmured after a while. 

“Y—yeah?” Deku startled. 

“My turn. I don’t want to take advantage of this Quirk bullshit situation you’ve got yourself in, but I know there’s no way you’ll tell me the truth otherwise. Why didn’t you tell on me to Aizawa today?”

He knew the answer. Why was he asking? He knew the answer. 

“Do you not trust him to do his job or something? U.A. isn’t like our shitty middle school, you know.”

But he knew why he was here. It wasn’t just to apologize to Izuku. 

Deku winced. “I know. The issue isn’t that I don’t trust Aizawa to do his job. It’s… I trust that he’ll do his job too well.”

Apologizing to Deku was useless. 

Katsuki nodded, a short, sharp, decided thing. “You’re protecting me.” 

“Kacchan, I—” 

Deku couldn’t be trusted with his own wellbeing.

“Aren’t you? You think he’ll expel me and you’re covering for my shitty ass.” 

Izuku looked down, biting his lip. 

“...Yes. B-but it’s not that I think you’re weak o-or anything!”

That sentence there, that pissed him off more than anything else. Deku was still scared of him. And still, Deku would keep forgiving him and forgiving him and forgiving him. 

“Right. Eat your lunch, Deku. And let your goddamn friends visit you.” 

Bakugou knew what the answer would be. Just like he knew what he had to do to fix this.

As he turned around and opened the door, there was no fear in his heart. He would know it was the right thing to do anyway, but when Deku started— started consoling him that he didn’t think he was weak… 

This day had been a long time coming. 

“Kacchan. What are you going to do?” 

Bakugou paused in the doorway. “I don’t need you to protect me anymore. You never should have in the first place.” He took a deep breath. “It’s time I finally faced my shitty actions instead of sticking my head in the sand like a fucking coward.”

Chapter Text

Aizawa folded his hands as he considered the information before him. So, Bakugou had, indeed, been bullying Midoriya. In some ways it was tamer than it could have been, especially considering what he’d seen happen to the Quirkless when he was more active as an undercover hero. 

It still made his stomach turn. No small part of that was guilt. He should have caught this earlier, and he had no excuse for missing it. He had experienced far too much to make such stupid, dangerous mistakes. 

Still. Bakugou was his student, and he had to maintain some level of professionalism. He had to focus on the present, and on fixing his mistakes; the guilt could come later. 

“If you were me, Bakugou, what would you do?” Aizawa met Bakugou’s eyes.

“Expel me,” Bakugou answered without hesitation. It seemed like he meant it; he looked resigned, ready for his fate. 

That… was also not entirely unexpected. Aizawa hadn’t been lying at the press conference; he had some measure of faith in Bakugou, at least in the person who stood before him today. That faith had been severely shaken, yes, but not entirely lost. 

“A not unwise decision,” Aizawa agreed. “Nor would it be an unfair one. You seem to be beginning to understand the severity of your actions. An awareness that Midoriya lacked, which you’ve been taking advantage of.” 

“He doesn’t know what’s good for him,” Bakugou mumbled. 

“And whose fault would that be?” 

Bakugou stayed silent. His fists clenched on his knees. 

“Your actions could have driven a person to suicide, Bakugou. Are you aware of that? Have you truly understood the effects of what you’ve done? You might be a kid, but you aren’t stupid. Your age is not an excuse for your violence.” 

Bakugou gritted his teeth and averted his eyes. Aizawa sighed. Well, it wasn’t like he had expected to make any progress on this part. Bakugou’s ‘confession’ had been straight and to the point, factual, and completely devoid of emotion. Compartmentalization, perhaps. Still, Aizawa would make sure that Bakugou faced his mistakes.

“You seem determined to await judgment,” Aizawa said. “If that’s what you want, so be it. You will continue at U.A., albeit—”

The change in Bakugou’s demeanor was immediate, and drastic. 

“What the fuck?” Bakugou slammed his hands down on the table, palms sparking. Smoke curled up from between his fingers.  “You’re just letting me stay? You expelled a whole batch of students on the first day — and don’t pull that logical ruse bullshit, I found news articles on it — but you find out one student bullied another and decide to just let me off?” 

“It would help me explain my decision if you actually let me speak,” Aizawa said coolly. “Are you done acting like a child?”

“I don’t know, are you ready to finally act like an adult?” Bakugou snarled back. 

Aizawa couldn’t help but feel some small measure of pride. Very small, but present nonetheless. He was glad to see Bakugou rise to the test. 

“Your outburst only tells me I’ve made the right decision. You’ve undeniably grown as a person, and expelling you now would be of no use. Had I been your middle school teacher, I would have no such hesitation, but now…” 

“Just because it was years ago doesn’t mean I didn’t do that shit, and I sure wasn’t ever punished. Didn’t you just give a fucking speech about this?” 

“And the fact that you know that shows some meager level of maturity. But I’m not just looking out for you. If I expel you, Midoriya is undeniably going to blame himself; I can’t see any reason for him not to come to the teachers about this other than to protect you. I misunderstood your relationship with him and paired the two of you up, with the expectation that he would help you grow as a person. That was on me. Now it’s your turn to help him grow.”

Aizawa looked Bakugou in the eyes. 

“Don’t think for a second that this is an easier sentence. You will have to live the rest of your life knowing what you’ve done and hoping the lives you save will make up for it. You don’t get to be punished and consider your penance served. You don’t get to just put it behind you and move on.”

Bakugou did not look appeased. “Pretty words, but they don’t change the fact that your decision is to do nothing. You know, of all our teachers, I thought that you’d at least try to take me seriously—”

Aizawa laughed. It was a cold, almost cruel thing. “ Do nothing? Just because I’m not making the decision to expel you outright — still a decision I might make in the future — does not mean I’m going to do nothing . I will certainly not be keeping you in the same class as your former victim.” 

“Oh.” Bakugou furrowed his brows, then nodded his head slightly. He sat back down.“So… Hero class B?” 

“Nice try. Gen Ed.” 

“You could just leave, apply for a transfer to another hero school,” Aizawa said. “But if that’s the decision you make, be warned that your records will include your history of bullying. Now that it’s come to our attention, U.A. is legally bound to disclose it, not that we’d ever choose to do anything else.” 

“Right.” Bakugou’s face was unreadable. Aizawa imagined it had something to do with actually being faced with the consequences he’d worked so hard to get. After all, nobody got to U.A. without working hard, and pretty much every student here had dreamt of being a hero their entire life. He doubted Bakugou had even considered another profession. 

“What would… what would my options be? After, I mean, what does… uh, what does Gen Ed prepare you for?” 

Still, he was taking it pretty well. 

“Maintain your grades within the Gen Ed Course, and you can choose any field to specialize in when applying for universities. Hero students get to jump straight into signing with agencies thanks to the training those agencies are legally required to provide, but other professions don’t have such shortcuts. You’d also have to put in a great deal of work to maintain your place in the Gen Ed Course; it’s far more academically grueling than the Hero Course, and you’ve lost a lot of time.” 

“Right.” 

“Being a hero is not the only way to help people, Bakugou,” Aizawa said. “Of course, being a police officer or a doctor isn’t the same. It lacks the flashiness, the prestige. And as a civilian, you will have few opportunities to use your powers for anything beyond a party trick here and there. But I assure you, most people get by just fine without them, and still perform extraordinary feats.”

“I know that.” Bakugou clenched his fists. “I don’t need your babying. Are we done here?” 

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. Bakugou was still a kid. He might try his hardest to hide it, but the immaturity that came with his age — or the lack thereof — shone through sometimes. 

“Yes. Feel free to pack your bags once you get back to your dorm. You will be staying with Hero Class B, as the Gen Ed students don’t stay on campus, and you have been targeted by the League of Villains before. And of course, I will be arranging a meeting with your parents to smooth out the details.” 

Bakugou nodded stiffly. He didn’t slam the door on his way out, but it was a near thing. 

Once he was alone again, Aizawa rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. Being a teacher was… exhausting. He should have stuck to his guns and told Kayama to fuck off with her offer to teach at U.A. 

The monitor behind Aizawa flickered to life. He groaned and begrudgingly turned to face it. 

“My, my, quite the harsh blow!” Nezu leaned forward in his seat, smiling at him through the screen. “I wouldn’t have expected that from you, Aizawa!” 

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “I would appreciate some privacy,” he muttered, tying his hair back in a ponytail. “Besides, we both know that if you expected me to be lenient, you’d never have let me take the lead on this. If anything, you think I’m being too kind.” 

Nezu laughed. The sadism in it was poorly concealed. “Yes, well, I’ve never liked bullies. Bad actions warrant punishment.” 

“I’ll warn you in advance, I intend to offer him an opportunity to shift back into the hero course next year,” Aizawa said. “With the new first years, of course. He’d lose a year, but I still haven’t lost faith in him.” 

“You still think he’s a good kid?” 

“I think he has potential,” Aizawa corrects. “And I think it’s quite the tall order for Bakugou to prove himself in the situation we’ve put him in. His former friends will likely hold this against him even if they reconcile. He’ll have a hard time landing in a position of power in the Gen Ed course as the new kid.” 

“Hmm,” Nezu hummed. “Yes, indeed, Bakugou has always been a big fish in a small pond, academically speaking. He’s intelligent, yes, but will he keep up with the greatest minds of the country?” 

“Average grades, if he works hard enough,” Aizawa predicts. “Gen Ed is no joke, and a year lost is a year lost. All this, and mandated therapy, of course. He manages to build relationships and behave, we’ll hold a council with his teachers and therapist, and we’ll make a decision from there. I won’t make a mistake again.”

“I would expect nothing less from you. Yes, that’s fine. Provided he proves himself in the meantime, I have no complaints,” Nezu said with a wave of his paw. “Naive as it may be, I’m always hoping for a good redemption. Should we teach him well, that is, it shouldn’t be impossible. It would be odd if I, of all beings, had no faith in the Pavlovian method—” 

Aizawa knew an incoming rant when he heard one. He switched the T.V. off. 

“And that’s the end of my report,” Aizawa said, rearranging a stack of papers. He looked more haggard than usual, Toshinori noted, despite the stiffly upright way he was holding himself. Toshinori couldn’t help but admire the man’s resolve, and he shot an encouraging smile at Aizawa, who barely seemed to register it. 

“I’ll be meeting with the Bakugous this afternoon,” Aizawa continued. “If you have anything else you want me to say to them, or you’d like to meet them yourselves…” 

Ectoplasm shook his head. “You’ve got a handle on this, Eraser.” 

The room murmured their agreement, or hooted agreement in Present Mic’s case. Toshinori nodded along; Aizawa had really taken the reins on this one. 

“I disagree.” 

The table fell silent. In the distance, a bird’s call rang clear. 

Ken Ishiyami, U.A Literature professor and pro hero ‘Cementoss’ held his head high even as every other gaze at the table was focused on him.  

“Oh? Is there an issue, Ishiyama?” Aizawa asked. 

“Frankly, I don’t understand why Bakugou isn’t being expelled,” Cementoss said, voice calm but firm. “You’ve come to us with a decision already made, so I’m not sure what impact I can have here. Still, we are a hero school. I agree that Bakugou can grow and change, and that he’s still a kid, but in this case he is also a perpetrator of a crime. His issue with Midoriya seems to have stemmed from the fact that Midoriya couldn’t use his Quirk without hurting himself. Now, we’re going to place him with the Gen Ed students, many of whom have weak or impractical Quirks. I’m not sure that this is the best response.”

Cementoss sighed and crossed his arms. “I’m not trying to be contrary. But this is a decision that requires a lot of thought.” 

Aizawa shook his head. “No need to apologize.” His voice was as firm as Cementoss’s had been. “You’re all his teachers too, and I value your input. I should also apologize for talking to Bakugou before bringing this to all of you.” 

“Now, now, there’s no need to be so formal. Nezu left the decision to you, so you took action.” Midnight tapped her fingernails on the table absentmindedly. “I understand your point, Cementoss, but…” 

“Bakugou has potential, potential that the kid knows not to squander. The fact that he’s agreed to join Gen Ed says a lot. He knows we have our eyes on him. He’s willing to put in the work,” Ectoplasm said. 

“How sure can we be that that’s the only reason?” Cementoss asked. “Have there been no situations where a tormenter made sacrifices just to be able to continue their torment undetected? I’m not saying that’s what’s happening here, but there are many possibilities we need to consider.” 

The atmosphere in the room had never been close to relaxed this meeting; everyone was aware of the importance of the situation. Still, there was a distinctly new tension in the air, an undercurrent that hadn’t bubbled to the surface until now. An argument, not just between them but inside them. 

Toshinori couldn’t speak for anyone else, but Cementoss’s words struck a chord with him. Bakugou had been a bully, and Midoriya a frequent victim of that bullying. No one else at this table could understand what it meant to be Quirkless, and none of them understood what it was like now, in the Age of Quirks. 

But… 

Toshinori cleared his throat, drawing the attention of his colleagues.  “I, uh… I’m aware that I’m… quite new to teaching. But I do have a good relationship with Midoriya, and an okay one with Bakugou. And at this point, I have some understanding of their conflict. Young Bakugou’s problem with Midoriya has always been personal. Obnoxious as he may be sometimes, he’s never had an issue with any of his other classmates, irrespective of their power levels. Even with Midoriya, there hasn’t been—” Toshinori paused. “No, there have been issues at U.A., but I believe that the two of them have mostly resolved them.” 

Toshinori scratched his cheek. “It’s no secret that I am biased in Midoriya’s favor. But I genuinely believe Bakugou has potential. And I also believe that this is the best way for both of them to grow as people. As… inadvisable as it is, young Midoriya greatly looks up to young Bakugou. I… don’t think that’s a point in favor of Bakugou, per se, it’s not entirely uncommon for victims to sympathize with their abusers. But in this case… in this case, I believe Bakugou is genuinely aiming to better himself. And I believe that keeping Bakugou at U.A. will allow them both to heal.”

Cementoss sighed. “I… am still conflicted. But I see that the tides are against me here, and concrete has no choice but to wear down under the relentless ocean. Furthermore, I trust your judgment, All Might, and I have faith in our ability to keep an eye on Bakugou, especially since he will be living here at U.A.” 

“And since Midoriya’s classmates are aware of what’s happened, we can be sure they’ll speak up even if he doesn’t,” Present Mic added. “They’re quite a protective bunch.” 

“You’re right. That sets my mind at ease.” Cementoss bowed his head slightly. “Again, I apologize for causing a stir.” 

“You were merely being cautious,” All Might said, patting Cementoss on the back. “And that’s absolutely necessary, given the situation.” 

The sound of whirring filled the room, and the door opened of its own volition. It seemed like Nezu had been listening in and considered the discussion to be closed. 

“Well,” Ectoplasm said, slapping his knee. “It seems like we’re done, then. I have multiple places to be. Please, do not hesitate to call on me if you need me.” 

As the other teachers followed suit and filed out of the room, Aizawa stayed seated. All Might was the furthest from the door, and thus the last to leave. As he passed Aizawa, a strip of cloth — no, carbon fiber — curled around his wrist. 

“All Might,” Aizawa said gruffly. “We have things to discuss.” 

Toshinori felt a brief sense of deja vu. He reseated himself at the table, this time adjacent to Aizawa. 

Next to the exit, Present Mic gave them a lingering glance, then shot them both a thumbs up before shutting the door behind him. 

“You keep saying things like that and I’m going to think we’re heading for divorce,” Toshinori joked. Aizawa gave him an unimpressed stare. 

“Right, sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. What, uh, what is it that you wanted to discuss?” 

“I have yet to speak to Midoriya about the changes we will be making. I thought perhaps you would like to do it.” 

Toshinori was taken aback. He was expecting another dressing down, honestly, and it wouldn’t be unwarranted. 

“You’ve been dealing with this fantastically, though,” Toshinori said. “Wouldn’t it be better if you…?” This would be a serious conversation, one that Toshinori couldn’t afford to mess up. 

“I know you care about Midoriya. I saw how important it was to you that he stayed at U.A., when we talked to his mother. Your words will mean more to him than mine. He looks up to you, perhaps more than he should.” 

Toshinori winced. 

“Sorry,” Aizawa said, not sounding very sorry. “But it’s a mistake to make an idol of anyone, irrespective of who they are. You may be the greatest hero of the century, but you are not infallible.” 

“I’m aware of that,” Toshinori said. “And I don’t disagree. Midoriya needs to understand that people aren’t black and white, or he’ll refuse to accept a person’s flaws just because he admires them. Like he does with Bakugou.” 

Toshinori sighed. He rested his head on the heels of his palms. “I know you’re right, I do. This is… a huge responsibility. I don’t know how you do it. But it’s important, both in my growth as a mentor and teacher and in… Well, I hope it acts as the first of many attempts to fix the mistakes I’ve made.” 

And Toshinori knew that was a long, long list. Still, what was life but one sucker punch after another? He could do this. And he owed it to Midoriya to do right by him. 

He was startled out of his thoughts by a stiff hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t… be too hard on yourself,” Aizawa said, looking extremely uncomfortable. “If you would like… we could go for a drink together after work, figure out what you’re going to say.” 

Toshinori recognised an olive branch when he saw one, and grinned. “My, you’re getting soft in your old age, Mr. Eraserhead,” he teased. “Maybe that marriage of ours will work out after all.”  

Aizawa grumbled, but Toshinori could swear it wasn’t as sincere as it usually was. 

Yeah. Yeah, he could do this.

Chapter Text

Izuku closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. Opened them again. His heart was pounding — he hadn’t wanted this, but now he kept thinking… Maybe he had wanted it. The relief that he felt was unmistakable, palpable. 

“So, I don’t really get a choice in this, right?” Izuku asked with a small voice. He didn’t want the choice. He didn’t want to be the one making the decision. “Kacchan will be in the Gen Ed class, irrespective of how I feel about it?” 

“I’m sorry, my boy, but yes. If you have any significant protests, you think there’s something the teachers have misunderstood, we will re-evaluate the situation. Things have progressed faster than I’d have liked them to, decisions made without consulting you or even other teachers first. But as Heroes, I suppose we’re used to making quick decisions.” All Might paused then, frowned. “Though that doesn’t excuse it.” 

“No, no, it’s… it’s okay, this is fine. Good, even. I don’t…” I feel like I should say something to make things better for Kacchan. I feel like I should soften the blow. But… I don’t want to. And that’s okay, right? I don’t have to do anything at all. Izuki felt his heartbeat in his ears. 

“Midoriya… Izuku, my boy. If you have anything you want to talk about with me, please, let me know. I have been unfair to you. We all have been. You have been struggling and we refused to see it. Please don’t excuse us on that. As a teacher, I have failed. But as a mentor… I cannot begin to explain how much I wish I could have done things better.” 

Izuku shook his head. He didn’t want that. This is why he had kept this quiet, why it should have stayed quiet. “I don’t want everyone to blame themselves, I don’t want to make this everyone else’s problem. I don’t want apologies. I’m sick of apologies, all everyone has been doing has been…” Izuku sniffled, sobbed into his hands. “I don’t know what to do, All Might. It feels like everything has changed, because of me. The class has broken apart. Everyone is so upset, and I just… I want things to go back to the way it was before. 

All Might pulled him into a hug, then, all sharp elbows and bony ribs. Warmth, and comfort. “Izuku,” All Might said softly. “It may feel that way right now. But even good change can be painful. Slowly, things will settle down, and you’ll find out you have a better life because of it. And you deserve that. You deserve that, my boy, and I am… I am so sorry it has taken so long for you to get the chance to experience that.” 

Izuku sobbed harder, clutching at All Might’s shirt. As All Might held him, he tried to calm down, to put his thoughts in order. That was right. He’d be okay. And Kacchan hadn’t been expelled. Maybe he would transfer to another Hero school, or apply as an individual applicant as an adult. Everyone knew that applying through schools was easier, but he was one of those exceptional few that could make it without. 

And so… So it was okay for him to be happy about this. Because Izuku could breathe now. He wanted Kacchan to be happy, but he wanted… He could be happy too, like this. 

His sobs slowed. He pulled back. “All Might… I’m really glad that everyone has been so kind. And that the teachers have been so quick to help. I think… Maybe, this was for the best. Maybe I can…” Oh, god, he can be free. He knows Kacchan won’t hurt him anymore, not like that. They stand on equal grounds now. But he still flinches in class, and he still finds himself taking long detours to avoid him sometimes and when he thinks about it he sees Kacchan as a rival and an equal but when he doesn’t— when he’s just living, when he’s just being, he can’t help the way he reacts. The way his body moves for him, makes decisions to protect him. That’s what a hero does, right? Moves without thinking, to protect. 

“In the future…” Izuku said, voice tremulous, “Kacchan and I could work together. Or, or meet up for drinks at a UA reunion, or… just. Something like that. But now… it’s…” 

“A relief?”

“Yes,” Izuku admitted, voice soft, scared. Like he was confessing a crime. “Kacchan is my friend. He’s strong, and he’s intelligent, and he’s respectable. And I think he’s a good person when it matters, I do. But right now, I… I really really hate him. I think I’m… I’m so angry, All Might!” 

All Might smiles at that, soft and kind. “My boy… I’m glad to hear that.” 

Izuku had never heard of anyone encouraging anger before, or hatred. They were supposed to be ‘bad’ emotions, weren’t they? But… understood what All Might meant. Maybe he was finally getting it. 

The official announcement was made in class, by Aizawa. He did not go into the details — Izuku had requested that, had wanted all of them to move on. Still, he had been firm, and unforgiving. 

“Bakugou will finish the rest of his education in the Gen Ed course. Hitoshi Shinsou will instead be taking his place here in the hero course. I expect you to help him catch up.” Aizawa paused. “...Bakugou has confessed to multiple accounts of bullying himself, many of them legally actionable. It has been Midoriya’s decision not to press charges. As future Heroes, I expect you all to have a firm sense of wrong and right. This cannot happen again. This will not happen again. We have also revoked his Provisional Hero License. I would like to take the opportunity to remind you that Quirk usage without a license is a crime , and one that can be reported to the police by anyone who witnesses it . As teachers, should we receive evidence that Bakugou has been misusing — no, even just using his quirk, we will be expelling him, and we will be reporting him to the relevant authorities. The same can be said for any hints of bullying or discriminatory behaviour. Should any of you even hear of such events occurring, I expect to be informed. Am I understood?” 

A chorus. “Yes Sensei.” Izuku watched in awe as his classmates not just accepted but seemed happy for the outcome, supportive of him. 

Uraraka raised her hand. 

“Yes, Uraraka?”

“Why isn’t he being expelled?” 

Aizawa scratched at his cheek. “A fair question. We considered the option seriously. However, we decided we wanted to ensure that we could keep an eye on Bakugou. That he did not end up at an institution that not just enabled but encouraged his behaviour.” 

“Isn’t that placing his growth over Izuku’s?” Iida this time. He looked serious, stern. 

“It is exactly for that reason that we have decided to place Bakugou in a different class. The Hero and Gen Ed classes rarely interact; for any occasion they will, we will ensure that Bakugou is absent. Needless to say, he will not be allowed to participate in the Sports Festival and other similar Quirk-based activities.” 

“I don’t… Think that’s enough.” Kirishima. Izuku swallowed. Iida and Uraraka was no surprise, but even… “I think,” Kirishima said firmly, gathering conviction, “I think it would be better for everyone if Bakugou was expelled.” 

Aizawa nodded. “I understand that, and your concerns are certainly valid. However, this is the decision that we have made as an institution. Please know that we will be keeping an eye on the situation, and if Bakugou falls even a hair out of line, we will be responding with no mercy.” He sighed. “We were also worried about Bakugou’s safety in regards to the League of Villains. There’s no telling whether he will continue to be targeted even at another school. It’s a special circumstance. There is no easy decision here. But part of the reason this was even considered was that we trust you as a class to keep an eye on the situation. That is not your responsibility as students, but it is one as heroes.” 

Kirishima nodded. His relief was clear— he was just as undecided as Izuku then. Wanted Kacchan gone, but wanted him to stay, too. 

Izuku steeled himself then, and raised his hand. 

“Yes, Midoriya?” 

Izuku stood up. “I, um… I just wanted to thank everyone. For your support. For believing me, and for caring about what I said meant. And I think you’re all going to be wonderful heroes. I, just… Thank you. So much.” 

He sat back down, blushing to his ears. Immediately, everyone had responded— “of course!” and “You’re going to be the best of us,” and “You’re so cute, Midoriya!” A cool hand pressed against the back of Izuku’s neck, calming him. Todoroki. He’d taken Bakugou’s seat now that it was empty, and Izuku leaned back into the touch. 

“I’m proud of you,” Todoroki said. Like it was simple, like it was a fact. Izuku blushed harder. 

This was good. Yeah. Yeah! He could do this! 

It took time, of course. Izuku was still jumpy, nervous. Some nights, he found himself dreaming that he was back in Aldera. Others, he couldn’t sleep, torn up by the guilt that he was the one to have potentially ended a promising hero’s career. 

But he wasn’t alone. 

He’d pace the communal hall, and Yaomomo would appear out of nowhere, make tea for the both of them. Talk about her little sister, or a documentary she watched, until he was calm and sleepy. He’d walk through the dining hall, and catch a glimpse of Kacchan — sitting alone, subdued, so unlike him — but Kaminari would appear out of nowhere and sling an arm around his shoulders, tell him about an interesting Quirk he’d known someone had and ask him for practical applications of it. Hagakure slipped notes with cute chibi sketches of heroes in his notebook, and Ashido forced him to watch ridiculous movies with him on days he couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop fidgeting. 

Tsuyu and Iida and Uraraka and Todoroki never stopped being there for him. Sometimes, he talked to them about how he’d struggled. How he’d felt. Pieces at a time, he could never handle more than that. And they’d talk too, about the things that they’d struggled with. They relied on him too.

Todoroki… With Todoroki, Izuku could feel it. That unnameable, nebulous something he felt for him. Sometimes, he thought Todoroki felt it too — the way he protected Izuku, the way he stayed over in his room on particularly bad nights. Bad for either of them, because Todoroki came to him when he was hurting too, told him in hushed whispers about his father and his siblings and his mother. He knew that something existed between them. It wasn’t something either of them wanted to act on, not just yet. But it was there, and that was enough.

And somehow, Izuku Midoriya began to heal.

Epilogue

“He fell for your act, Aoyama!” They had no time to waste. Like clockwork, everyone began moving. Separate the villains. Divide and conquer. So many heroes, students, working together. 

Unsurprisingly, it was chaos. 

“Restrict their moments!” 

“Scatter them!” 

In the midst of it, Deku felt himself be pulled away. “Huh?” That wasn’t supposed to happen. He was meant to be— 

A blaze, and he was being pulled back, crashing into the ground. “If you leave, the conditions won’t be met, idiot.” 

“K— Kacchan!” Deku scrambled up to stand. Kacchan looked up at him from where he’d hit the ground. 

“Do they know our plan?”

“I don’t think so. At least— I can’t tell for sure. But for now, we circumvented that. We can’t lose focus.”

“Right.” 

Deku hesitated, then held out his hand. Kacchan… Took it. Let himself be pulled up. Grinned, feral and determined. “All right, Deku. Let’s give those fuckers what’s coming to them and blow them to bits.” 

Deku grinned. Just as determined. Just as feral, too. “Right! We end this here. The separation was successful. The real battle starts now!”