Chapter Text
Katsuki knows shit.
It’s a part of his brand at this point. He was there when Kaminari got a fucking q-tip stuck in his nose trying to wax it, he was there when Ashido spilled neon green nail polish on her textbook, and he unfortunately knows that Dark Shadow can throw up which was something not even Tokoyami knew he could do. And frankly, Katsuki didn’t want to know either.
Regardless, he knows shit because he’s the one everyone goes to in order to get out of it.
Which is why he has no fucking clue why he had signed up to see the tabloids’ ”Youngest Villain of The Year” with the most irritable person on the planet.
“We’re going to get kidnapped, Kacchan.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. Trust that his only avenue to figuring out what the fuck happened to a literal two faced bastard comes in the form of another, more metaphorically, two faced bastard.
“You’re the one who wanted to walk in ninety degree weather.”
“You’re the one who forced us to go!” Midoriya rebuttals, like Katsuki actually gives a shit.
“I don’t care.”
“Kacchan, as a former and current hostage, I really think we should go home.”
He rolls his eyes, “You’re not a fucking hostage, dumbass.” Midoriya tries to pull away for the billionth time. Katsuki grips his arm harder.
“Then why are you grabbing me like that?” Midoriya glares, pulling harder.
“Because you keep trying to run away!”
“Kacchan, that’s the exact definition-”
“Shut the fuck up. Last I heard hostages don’t speak.” He’d know.
Midoriya pulls again, just as lackluster as before.
“Do you wanna see if the half and half bastard is alive or not?” Katsuki growls.
“It’s different. Mr. Aizawa canceled.”
“He still invited you.”
“Yeah, before he canceled.” He huffs. “You’re just mad he invited me and not you.”
Oh, those are fucking fighting words.
His palms crackle, nitro sparking. “You wanna die?!”
Midoriya levels him with a look. “You know I’m right.”
“Like hell you are!” Katsuki has had a really shitty past couple of days. Letting off steam sounds really good right about now. Whoever decided to lock a dozen kids with some of the most powerful quirks in one area clearly didn’t have an ounce of sense in their body.
“Kacchan, we really need to go back. We’re going to get in trouble.”
“Boo fucking hoo, that has never stopped you before.” Besides, who cares if they get in trouble? This is more important than that.
But of course Midoriya is a stubborn piece of shit and digs his heels into the ground. Katsuki yanks him forward, causing him to stumble.
“Kacchan, seriously! Mr. Aizawa canceled for a reason, I don’t want to make anything worse.”
He’s so fucking sick of this whining. “Shut the fuck up.”
Midoriya doubles down, “Kacchan, I really don’t think we should go.” Okay, yeah, that’s enough. Katsuki releases his hold on Midoriya’s arm, throwing it to the side. He glares, blood boiling as Midoriya staggers before recentering himself. He’s hot, he’s irritated, and he’s got enough pent up energy to level a skyscraper.
“Fine. If you want to be a little pussy about this and run away then fine. Go back to the dorms and explain to all of those extras how you, self appointed savior of the whole fucking world, couldn’t even talk to the blandest goddamn person on the planet. Go on. I’m sure Ponytail would love to hear it.”
“Kacchan…”
“If you really didn’t want to go then you’d have left already. So make up your fucking mind.” He’s getting sick of this wishy-washy behavior.
Midoriya hesitates, a frown on his face. “I can’t- Kacchan, we can’t mess this up.”
No shit Sherlock. “We’re not going to.”
“You don’t know that.” Katsuki finally takes a good look at Midoriya, taking in his tense posture, the way he seems almost uncertain. Apprehension pours off of him in waves, like the pulse of a strobe light illuminating a dark night. It’s unsettling for someone as headstrong as Midoriya to be this indecisive, especially about something as simple as seeing someone he cares about.
“He’s not going to kill you.” Katsuki states, harsher than necessary.
Midoriya flounders at that, “That’s not what I’m saying at all! Of course I know Todoroki isn’t going to kill me. It’s just…”
Katsuki’s ready to knock him out and just take him to Aizawa’s like an actual hostage. But the creeping unease on Midoriya’s face strengthens his patience. He crosses his arms.
“Spit it out.”
“...What if he’s different?” Katsuki internally scoffs. Yeah, there’s definitely more to it than that.
“Different how, nerd?”
“I don’t know just… Do you think he’s mad?”
Katsuki blinks. “Hah? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Well… we didn’t say anything.” Midoriya starts. “We knew that Todoroki’s father was… abusing him and we just never said anything. And I mean, there’s not much information we have regarding what went on, but I’m certain that Endeavor played a part in what happened. If Todoroki was acting out of self-defense then it would make sense for him to be angry that we never said anything because maybe then his father would still be alive, but then again, I’m not sure that would necessarily be a great thing. I mean of course Endeavor being alive is important! And no one deserves to die when they can be saved, but I think-”
“Shut up. Icyhot thought that ice cube trays were quirked, I’m pretty sure the brain cells needed to jump to those conclusions don’t even exist, Deku.”
“Be serious, Kacchan! I don’t know what I’m walking into.”
“That’s never stopped you before,” Katsuki glares, daring.
The nerd’s starting to get that stupid look in his eye. His stupid fucking hero complex is gonna get them all killed, one ember of misplaced guilt at a time.
Katsuki clicks his tongue, “Look, Aizawa is either gonna be pissed that you show up at his door right now, or he’s gonna be pissed later when you sneak through his window and alert every fucking villain in the area.”
Midoriya snaps out of his melancholy with wide eyes. “I wasn’t- I am not going to sneak through the windows!” He cries, like a liar.
Katsuki grins, an edge creeping in. “Yeah, then what were you gonna do?”
“...I was just going to look through them, that’s all.”
He barks out a laugh, “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. Is this how you bastards tried to find me? No wonder they put us on lockdown, I wouldn’t trust you on the streets either.”
“Kacchan!” Katsuki puts a hand up, walking away
“Talk to me when you’re not climbing through windows.”
“Looking! And how do you know that anyway? I didn’t even decide until last night.” Midoriya asks defensively, curiosity winning per usual as he falls in line beside Katsuki.
“You really have to stop having conversations where others can hear you.”
Midoriya frowns. “What? No, I was in the kitchen. There’s no way you could’ve heard me. I’ve checked, you can’t hear people whispering unless you’re by the doorway.”
“Yeah, if you’re listening to other people you fucking creep. Deku, I could whisper better than you when I was five.”
Izuku glares weakly at him. “Let me just check on him tonight, Kacchan.”
“Like hell I’m letting you go see that Icyhot bastard alone. We’re already this far, anyway.”
They walk in a comfortable silence, the heat beating down on their skin. It’s kind of peaceful when the idiot isn’t spouting a thousand words a second, Katsuki thinks.
Of course Midoriya breaks that. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Well, stop.” He doesn’t.
“...It’s really weird. I thought the media would be all over this, but I haven’t seen a single thing since the broadcast.”
“Me either.”
“I can’t find anything. Like anything. I even went back to old forums to see if there were any posts but there was nothing. It just… vanished. Things don’t do that.”
Katsuki could care less about what the media has to say about this, they’re all liars anyway. But even he can’t deny it’d be useful to know even a little more than the nothing he does.
“Did you find the video?”
Midoriya sighs, “No, there’s no mention of it anywhere.”
“Ponytail better have a goddamn answer for us. If she doesn’t have something by the time we get back, I’ll kill her myself,” He snarls, not ready to come back and go from one disaster to another.
“I don’t know, Kacchan. Hatsume is good at a lot of things, but she’s not really a tech wiz when it comes to the internet. Even with Yaoyorozu’s help, I don’t think we’d get the answer right away. Lost media is really fascinating in the sense that it-” And like clockwork, he starts his rambles. Katsuki rolls his eyes. Every fucking time. He turns down his hearing aid, letting Midoriya’s voice fade into a wash. He needs to take a break from them anyway. Fuck, he’s not looking forward to the inevitable ringing once he takes them out.
Katsuki knows that there’s something really fucking fishy about this whole Endeavor situation. It doesn’t exactly take a genius to realize that something is being messed with, especially with something this high-profile. It would make sense for the media to be going berserk and yet when Katsuki checks his phone for the millionth time… nothing. Absolutely nothing except for a text from his mom asking him when he’s allowed to come home. Katsuki doesn’t care if Aizawa canceled or even if Icyhot is comatose - he’s getting answers.
“We’re here, nerd.” He grunts, turning the volume back up. He takes in the shabby apartment complex. The gutters are worn and rusted on the edges, stray leaves and petals from the trees nearby clogging them. There’s a gaudy ”Welcome!” sign in English tacked onto the door in a swirly font.
Midoriya knocks once, shifting from one foot to the next. Katsuki scoffs. Trust the nerd to be nervous talking to the teacher they’ve literally fought with.
Who also apparently just happens to be a teacher who can’t answer a fucking door.
Katsuki raps on the door, letting his knuckles weigh heavy. No answer. Midoriya raises his hand to knock again, pausing as a notification pings from his phone. Katsuki looks over, disgust brewing, it’s an email from the man himself. Yeah, fuck that. If knocking won’t work than other, more drastic, measures need to be taken.
“Hey, teach! You’ve got one minute to open this door or I’m blowing it up!” He yells, pounding twice on the shuddering door for good measure.
They hear footsteps get louder, the distinct sound of slippers hitting wooden floors at a calm pace that has Katsuki’s irritation growing. The door reluctantly opens, chain lock ringing as it’s extended, revealing an exhausted looking Aizawa. His eye bags could rival a black hole, scruff so rough and disheveled a photo could be found in a dictionary as the definition. Katsuki stares blatantly. Isn’t he supposed to be resting?
“Hello, Mr. Aizawa.” Midoriya says sheepishly.
Katsuki sticks his hands in his pockets. “You should really reevaluate who you let walk across town. Nerd was about to be villain bait.”
Aizawa looks somehow even more tired. “You’re not supposed to be here. I canceled. We tell you every day, check your emails.”
Midoriya looks at his phone, reading the latest message. “Um… Mr. Aizawa, I believed you when you canceled earlier, you didn’t need to send me another one.”
“And yet here you are,” Aizawa says dryly. “I’m assuming you also didn’t mean to bring your classmate after reading the instructions telling you to come alone?”
Midoriya grimaces, “In my defense, Mr. Aizawa, I wasn’t really given a choice-”
“If I don’t see Todoroki I’m gonna tell the press where you live,” Katsuki interrupts.
“Kacchan!” Midoriya shouts, turning quickly to Aizawa. “No, we’re not!”
“You’re not. I am.”
Aizawa stares, unimpressed. “Bakugou, I’ve been a teacher for twelve years. I’m not going to be blackmailed by a fifteen year old.”
“I’ll tell UA that you told us to come unsupervised.”
Midoriya frowns, “Kacchan, that’s not believable.”
“Either help me or don’t! Pick a side!”
Aizawa sighs, pinching his fingers between his eyes. “Now is not the time to be doing this. You’re not coming in, and that’s final. Go home.” Yeah, not gonna happen. Katsuki’s been given free reign for the first time in a week, he’ll find somewhere else to spend his freedom. As if reading his mind, Aizawa reconsiders for a moment. “Actually, Hiza- Present Mic will escort you home.”
Midoriya speaks up, “Um, Mr. Aizawa, not to be disrespectful, but you did ask me to come here. If it’s alright I’d really like to see Todoroki.”
“Things change,” Aizawa explains, looking back into the house before fixing them with a stern look. “I’m grabbing your ride. Stay here or six weeks detention.” He closes the door, the distinct sound of a lock clicking the only thing keeping Katsuki from waltzing right in after him.
A few minutes pass, and Katsuki’s getting real sick of twiddling his thumbs out in the scorching summer heat. A blast of air conditioning startles him as Present fucking Mic of all people pops his head out the door. He’s dressed in the most gaudy scarf Katsuki has ever had the displeasure of witnessing. His mom would cry if she had to see that leopard print is apparently back in fashion, ”They’re calling it cheetah print, Katsuki. It’s not even real fur!” He forcefully rips his eyes from the abhorrent thing to look at arguably the more striking change. Present Mic’s hair, usually styled to the fucking sun is now in a half-bun, flowing just past his shoulders. It’s objectively a better look. But still, it’s like seeing Best Jeanist wear corduroy: unnerving.
“Hey, little listeners! So sorry, but your shindig is currently postponed until further notice. So that means that you’ll be getting a luxury ride with your favorite teacher. The one, the only Present Mic!” He calls out loudly. The nerd blinks wide in surprise. Katsuki isn’t much further behind, albeit decidedly much less entertained. If Aizawa wants to keep where he lives under wraps maybe he shouldn’t have the loudest person of all time over.
“Oh! Um, hello Present Mic! I uh… I didn’t know you were here.” Midoriya says, confused.
“Oh yeah! Me and Aizawa go way back. Now, unfortunately your classmate is a little preoccupied right now, so give me one moment and we’ll be on our way.” He reaches inside the apartment, grabbing his keys. Good luck. Katsuki is not fucking leaving this spot until he sees Icyhot. Or at least leaving with a better idea of what the fuck is going on.
Actually…
Katsuki narrows his eyes, analyzing. With tensions as high as they are, something has to be going on behind the scenes. He’s been having a sinking suspicion that maybe the fact that none of their classmates can get any information about what should be the biggest news since All Might’s retirement isn’t accidental.
An idea sparks. Oh yeah, he can get away with this. He mentally prays the nerd catches on.
“Is this about the news?”
Yamada pauses, key still in the door. Bingo. “...What news?” He asks, too casually.
Midoriya, the observant creep he is, catches on immediately. “Oh! Nothing… I mean, it’s headlining everywhere.” He says, matching Yamada’s false nonchalance.
Yamada cracks the door open, whispering something to Aizawa, and at this point Katsuki just wants to get out of the fucking heat.
Aizawa grants his wish in the most unnecessary way possible, grabbing him firmly by the arm and practically shoving him inside. So much for not coming in. And people say he doesn’t have manners, Katsuki mulls angrily. At least he’s not throwing school children into his home. He opens his mouth to tell him as much before being interrogated.
“What do you know?”
“Can I fucking speak?” Katsuki grits. Aizawa levels him with a look.
“Language.”
Midoriya pipes up beside him, having been given the choice to walk in the house instead of yanked like a fucking dog. “It’s all over the news, Mr. Aizawa.”
“What have you seen?” Aizawa asks, deadly serious. Yeah, Katsuki hit a goldmine. Fuck Goggles and Ponytail, Katsuki’s getting his own information.
Midoriya plays along. “Just a couple news articles, y’know, speculations and stuff. It’s really not as much as I thought there’d be. But people are talking about the broadcast a lot.”
“And anything about Todoroki’s sister?” Present Mic questions cautiously, making Katsuki’s initial suspicion ramp up tenfold. Midoriya shares a glance with him. Yeah, there’s something major going on here.
“Have you seen the video?” Aizawa asks, quiet and intense.
“No, but I was actually meaning to ask you about that. It’s not anywhere - not that I was looking for it, of course! Because I wasn’t! But well, you see, I just um… ” So much for not calling their bluff, Katsuki groans internally. But as the nerd digs a grave, Aizawa just grumbles under his breath to Yamada.
As a childhood friend himself, Katsuki can tell the difference between telling each other something someone else wouldn’t get and telling each other something the other person isn’t allowed to know. And the way his two teachers are talking to each other in hushed tones right now tells Katsuki all he needs to know about which poison he’s being served.
He's starting to get the distinct feeling that maybe Todoroki isn’t the only thing they’re trying to keep hidden.
“Um, Mr. Aizawa,” Midoriya starts, awkwardly, garnering the attention of both Yamada and Aizawa who turn back to look at him. Something’s definitely up. “I know you were hesitant about it before, but um, now that we’re here I think it’d be really beneficial to speak with Todoroki. We won’t overwhelm him or anything! We just want to talk to him.”
Aizawa inspects Midoriya for a moment before sighing. “It’s not you I’m worried about,” He says, looking at Katsuki.
Oh.
That fucking stings.
He glares, “I trained alone with that bastard for weeks.” If anything was going to go wrong, it would have been then.
“Remedial training is different from this,” Aizawa says, not unkindly.
“I promise you, Mr. Aizawa. We just want to make sure he’s okay.” Midoriya reassures.
Aizawa responds, unswayed, “He is fine, I assure you.
“I’m not gonna fucking break him.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about, Bakugou.”
“What? You think he’s fragile or something?”
“I am well aware of my student’s strengths. This is a different matter entirely.”
“He’s tough as shit.”
“Kacchan…”
“You’re all fucking babying him like he’s some fucking toddler who needs a pacifier or he’ll cry.”
Aizawa sighs. “Bakugou, this isn’t about strength. It’s about trauma. I won’t argue with you, but you can’t approach this the way you would everything else. This is outside of the skillset we’ve taught you at UA. It’s something that is learned in your personal lives after you’ve graduated. It’s unfortunate that it has been brought to you now, but I am doing everything in my power to make sure that things don’t get worse.”
“Make excuses all you want, but I guarantee Icyhot won’t be able to feel better until he’s given a challenge.”
“We’ll agree to disagree. Now, before you leave, you cannot tell anyone you were here. Understood?”
Midoriya winces, “Actually, Mr. Aizawa… about that…”
Yamada steps behind them, placing his hands on their shoulders.
“Alright, kiddos, how about we let Aizawa get his beauty sleep and get cruising in my beautiful Honda Civic: Cherry Bomb. What do you say?”
Fuck that. Katsuki’s done waiting.
He calls out, voice echoing across the apartment, “Hey, Icyhot! Get your ass over here!”
“Oookay, and we’re leaving.” Yamada says, pulling them towards the exit. Katsuki digs his heels in, nice floors be damned. But just as he’s thinking about which window he’s gonna use to enact Midoriya’s plan later tonight, he hears the floor creak. He nearly breaks his neck as it snaps around to look at the doorway. Sure enough, a tall figure lingers there, eyes wide in surprise.
He feels Midoriya stop breathing next to him.
Katsuki knows Todoroki wouldn’t be the same. Killing a man doesn’t exactly leave you looking like a daisy. He really doesn’t know what he was expecting but it wasn’t this. Todoroki’s eyes are sunken in, eyebags rivaling Aizawa’s, the shadow of the door frame only accentuating the change. His hair is dull, mixed into a ridiculous pink color at the roots. He looks distant… lost. Katsuki’s eyes narrow at the change, he never really was a ray of sunshine to begin with but this is extreme. He’s never looked this mussed, always plain but still put together. Regardless of his dim personality, his eyes still shine with recognition. When Katsuki really thinks about it, he seems… almost exactly the same as he did before. Katsuki takes a breath.
He can work with this.
“You look like shit,” Katsuki states. Midoriya smacks him on the arm and Katsuki saintly practices restraint, generously adding two extra seconds to his internal timer before he throttles the motherfucker.
Aizawa, as always, quickly picks up on the murderous energy and promptly shuts it down with a dry glare. “There will be no fighting under my roof or you will both be expelled.”
“Yes, Mr. Aizawa!” Midoriya says, waving nervously. “Um… Hi, Todoroki!”
Shouto waves back, confused. He looks at Yamada.
“Sorry, Todoroki! We were just heading out!” Yamada thinks for a moment before exaggeratedly patting himself down. “Oh shoot! I must have left my wallet in my room. Todoroki, won’t you come help me find it?” Todoroki nods, Yamada ushering him back to whatever dark corner he emerged from. Katsuki watches them leave, noting the distinct wallet-shaped outline in Yamada’s back pocket.
Aizawa sighs once they're out of earshot. “That is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”
“He… did want to see us, right?” Midoriya asks.
“We gave him the choice to see someone and you were the most sensible out of who he chose. I’m starting to realize that was a mistake.”
“We’re not gonna break him. He’s tougher than that,” Katsuki says. Icyhot’s still the same hot and cold bastard he’s always been.
“These circumstances are different.”
“Todoroki is our best friend, Mr. Aizawa. I… I think he’s been hurting for a long time. We didn’t have the chance to do anything then, so- please. Let us do something now.” Midoriya pleads.
Aizawa examines them for a long moment, hands settling on his hips. Katsuki can almost taste the disapproval in the air. “What were you planning to do if I said no?”
They respond simultaneously.
“Break through the window.”
“Look through the window.”
“Looking leads to breaking, dumbass.” Katsuki states.
Aizawa pinches the bridge of his nose, grimacing. “There will be no looking or breaking through any windows. Do I make myself clear?”
Midoriya straightens, “Yes, Mr. Aizawa!” Aizawa looks pointedly at Katsuki.
“Do you want me to lie?”
“I want you to stop deliberately breaking rules.”
Katsuki huffs. “I don’t break any rules if they aren’t stupid.”
“This isn’t about satisfying your curiosity. This is about your classmate’s safety.” Aizawa says firmly. “I expect my students to behave in a manner befitting of future heroes, this is not the time to be stubborn.”
Katsuki scoffs, fucking hypocritical if you asked him. Still… if the bullshit Midoriya and him spouted got them riled up this fast. Well, Katsuki knows something bigger is going down then meets the eye. The last thing he wants is for some B-rate villain to take down Icyhot before he can beat him fair and square.
“Fine.”
Aizawa gives him another measured look.
“I’m not the one you need to worry about.” Katsuki says. Aizawa turns to Midoriya, assessing him.
“Midoriya.” Aizawa says, expectantly.
“Okay, I may have fibbed a little bit earlier. But I really do want what’s best for Todoroki, Mr. Aizawa.” Midoriya says brightly, savior-complex and all. Katsuki rolls his eyes, deniability is the only thing that might save the nerd if he gets caught later.
Aizawa sighs, shaking his head as if he can’t believe he’s really doing this. “Alright. But there are rules. Do you remember unit six from last year?”
Midoriya, the nerd, answers immediately, “Civilian impact, right?”
“Civilian injures caused by villain attacks,” Katsuki adds.
“Right unit, wrong section. I’m specifically talking about the psychological effects.”
“Hmm… Oh! Do you mean the body and mind connection?” Midoriya says.
“Yes. What do you remember?”
“Okay, well, the basic principle is that trauma in the mind spreads to the body. I know we covered brain development and regression, trauma bonding in hostages, um…”
“Don’t overthink, Midoriya.” Aizawa states. Katsuki scoffs, it’d be easier to convince the world to stop spinning. “We had an entire class period dedicated to it.”
“Um… oh! Communication! This is about the speech impact, right? I remember us talking about aphasia, organic mutism, cerebellar mutism, and-”
Katsuki interjects. “Selective mutism. He’s got it, huh? Makes sense, Icyhot was never a talker to begin with.” Unlike the run-on sentence in human form beside him.
Midoriya shakes his head, “Kacchan we talked about it in class, selective mutism doesn’t mean complete muteness. He should still be able to speak, shouldn’t he?”
Aizawa agrees, “He is still capable of producing sound.”
“So, he can get better then?”
“With time.”
“How much time?”
Aizawa crosses his arms. “It’s hard to tell. These things aren’t predictable.”
That’s not good enough for Katsuki. “But you have a deadline, right? He’s gotta come back to school eventually. Bastard can’t do that if he can’t talk.”
“That’s not true. Koda does fine.” Midoriya states.
“Koda can make a bear do charades for him if he wants. He doesn’t count.”
“Kacchan, that’s definitely offensive-”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“I’m telling Auntie Mitsuki you said that.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not, I am not sitting through another one of those goddamn sensitivity seminars.”
“Sensitivity training is really important, Kacchan!”
“And what the fuck would you know about sensitivity, dumbass.”
Midoriya hums, “Well, actually Kacchan. If you look at our childhood, I think you’d find that I have a pretty good idea about why someone might need-”
Katsuki covers his mouth, hissing. “God, I fucking hate you.”
“Thank you, Kacchan!” Midoriya replies cheerily, voice still muffled.
“That wasn’t a yes, dumbass.”
“Whatever you say, Kacchan!” Midoriya says, equally as cheerful as before.
Aizawa raises an eyebrow at the exchange, “I think you can understand my hesitation.”
Yamada re-enters the room, plastering on a bright smile. “Alright, kiddos. One last time. Let’s head out.”
“They’re staying, Hizashi.” Yamada pauses for a moment.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“But I heard yelling.”
“If things get worse we’ll figure it out from there.” Yamada sighs.
“Alright, Shou. But he’s gonna be confused, y’know.”
“You were the one who wanted this. Go deal with it.”
Yamada shakes his head, switching the mood entirely as he turns to Katsuki and Midoriya, laughing good naturedly. “I suppose you got me there. Alright, kiddos. Follow me.”
They follow him down the hall, stopping outside of a room.
“I assume ol’ Aizawa gave you the lay of things?” Midoriya doesn’t reply, fixated on a picture behind him.
“‘Don’t be a dick.’ Pretty easy to follow.” Katsuki bluntly states.
Yamada smiles, “Right you are! I’d say this is a good time to exercise patience for your futures as heroes.” He opens the door, “Alright, Todoroki. Sorry for the mix-up earlier but your friends are here to see you! If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you are more than welcome to leave. Don’t close the door, kiddos! House rules!” Yamada says brightly, walking away.
Midoriya sits down on the floor, across from Icyhot who is propped up against the bottom of the bed. Katsuki leans against the wall, taking in the bland room. The bed looks unused, kept crisp and clean. The walls are devoid of decoration, lifeless and sterile. There’s marks on the carpet, indicating that boxes previously had been left long enough to indent it.
Todoroki starts writing on a notepad, holding it up for them to see.
“Hello.”