Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The episode opens with a shoegaze track accompanying a montage that follows Katsuki Bakugo through the first half of his day.

A first shot frames a digital alarm clock flashing a time of 5:45 AM, with a hand abruptly appearing side frame to silence it before the camera lingers on the display for a moment before following the flow of the room as the morning begins.

A close-up catches a red toothbrush running under the faucet water. Scarred hands tying a firm double knot on a pair of dark gray running shoes. Those same running shoes now moving along a practiced route. Streetlights are still burning, barely illuminating the path as Bakugo settles into a measured pace, with headphones in his ears matching the intro music. The documentary crew trails from a respectful distance, grabbing a tracking shot of the repetitive cadence of shoes striking concrete, grass, dirt, then gravel and back through the same motions before returning through UA's front doors.

A view of a sweaty, post-run, Bakugo slamming his door shut and then reopened just as fast on the next frame freshly showered and in uniform.

By 6:45 in the kitchen we see a close up of hands handling a knife; cutting herbs and veggies on a cutting board. Cracking and beating a few eggs with a fork in a small bowl, properly seasoning the mix before pouring into a sizzling pan readied with some oil.

The frame widens as Bakugo portions rice into two bowls, divides vegetables evenly, and folds two perfectly prepared omelets into place.

Bakugo sits and eats alone at the table under dimly lit lights, finishing his meal without lingering. Three quick cuts show reduce the meal from untouched to empty and flashes to a close up of the sink. His dishes are rinsed, dried, and returned to their places before 7:05 AM. One plate still remaining.

The final kitchen view from his solo breakfast shows Bakugo shutting the lights off and leaving the room with the second plate in his hand and a paper towel covering the top.

The hallway beyond is dim, lit only by morning light filtering through distant windows. Halfway down he pauses, just barely and gently looking behind his shoulder at the footage currently running on him, catching a moment of hesitation before he eventually bends down without knocking and sets the plate centered in front of a door that is not his own and walks away.

The camera zooms closely on the dorm room door that is sticky tacked with small, All Might posters, now with a fresh breakfast waiting in front of it like a welcome mat.

The shot remains fixed on the breakfast for several minutes before the bedroom door opens by only a few inches. A hand reaches into the hallway first, searching for the plate before its owner fully emerges with green hair, still uncombed from sleep, catches and steadies himself with the edge of the frame. Izuku Midoriya lowers his sleepy gaze to the breakfast waiting outside his door, blinking at it for a moment before the camera catches the faintest lift at the corner of his mouth and he bends down to pick up the plate with both hands.

His eyes travel briefly down the empty hallway in the direction Bakugo had disappeared, but the corridor offers nothing in sight. His door closes and the hallway is empty once again.

The montage continues on and settles into the rhythm of a classroom. Pencils move across notebook paper, "What to expect." Pages turn, checking out brand new textbooks. Chairs tip back before settling onto all four legs again. The final shot widens to reveal every desk occupied beneath the words CLASS 3-A ORIENTATION DAY written across the board. The classroom bell rings at the exact moment the shoegaze track reaches its final note.

Black lettering fades on to a white screen.

[TEXT ON SCREEN:]

Akiyama Field Works presents:

"BETWEEN THE CUTS"

The white of the title screen fades into an overexposed frame. For a moment, the image is nothing but washed out light and a blur of blonde spikes crowding the lens from someone standing far too close. The auto focus hunts and catches flashes of black lightening shaped streaks before finally settling into a clear image of bright golden eyes staring straight down the camera lens.

"Denki! Stay the hell away from them!" a sharp, warning, voice booms out of frame. The first voice to be heard this episode.

The pair of golden eyes stays in shot, his sight wondering around the various cameras and the crew behind it. He studies the monitor mounted beside the operator, tilting his head left and then to the right as he watches his movements being recorded before breaking into an exaggerated smolder. Striking a couple of poses as if he was checking himself out in a mirror.

"Oh come on, Bakugo!" He shifts into another over dramatic pose. "I just want to make sure they capture me in my prime! This will be so cool to look back at in ten years!" Denki answers back, still modeling poses.

"You idiot." Bakugo answers without hesitation, "You're gonna be a pro hero. You'll have cameras shoved in your face every damn week. We already do! Don't worry, future generations will have plenty of documentation that you've always been this ugly."

Denki's gasps theatrically. "Meeeeowww!" He flicks the imaginary motion of a cat paw toward Bakugo before finally stepping away from the lens.

"What's got 'Kacchan' in such a bad mood today?" he asks with a light taunting annoyance in his voice.

"Knock it off." Bakugo steps into frame for the first time, shoulders squared and expression already agitated. "You knowwe don't like when you call me that."

Denki lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Yeah, yeah" He rolls his eyes. "Only your precious Deku gets to call you that."

"You can't— He's not my—" Bakugo starts to protest against the other boys comment, stealing a worried glance at a nearby camera lens focused on him. The protest dies unfinished as voices echo from the common room outside. A moment later, several more members of Class 3A filter into the room.

"Hey guys!" A brighter voice breaks through air. "Oh yeah! So cool! I totally forgot they were coming today, Bakugo!" pink arms loop around Bakugo's shoulders in a quick and familiar hug before he can side step it. "So what all does that mean for you while they're here?"

"Means I get no fuckin' privacy for the next week" Bakugo says as he opens up the fridge and sets out some veggies on the countertop. "and I have to sit down and do a solo interview at some point tomorrow too."

"No privacy?!" She quirks her brow up in question. "But it's the last week of break before our final year starts!"

"Yep." He pops the 'p' at the end of the word.

"Well— I mean, they can't film me naked or whatever, but everything else is fair game I guess. They get 24/7 permission to stalk me. and Izuku. One week, every 3 or so months, for the next ten years." He's now filled up a quart sized pot of water and sat it on the stove, throwing in a pinch of salt and turning the flame on high to bring to a boil.

Ashido looks around the room at all the cameras and crew with a worried wince on her face, "Oh… you're…. you're soooooo gonna hate that."

Bakugo spits out a laugh and then opens his eyes wide when he registers he wasn't the only one who laughed at that comment.

"Yeah, he really is." A pair a green eyes looking across the kitchen fondly chimes in. "But no worries Kacchan, because… I AM HERE!" He says posing with his arms up and flexed, hands holding a white plastic bag that reads 'YoYo's Manga & Game Shop', with an outrageously large smile doing his best to imitate All Might.

"Izuku! You absolute fucking dork, get over here and chop the vegetables! You were supposed to be here over five minutes ago!"

Izuku hums a small chuckle under his breath, "Sorry, Kacchan! The line for the new drop was out the building and around the corner! But! I got us both a copy of the newest edition!" Izuku preens a smile and wiggles his eyebrows as he dangles the white plastic bag in front of the others face.

"Fuck yeah! I guess that's an acceptable excuse." He hesitates just long enough to add, "…Thanks, Izuku." Then he turns back to the ingredients. "Let's finish cooking for these extras then we can read it after dinner, yeah?"

"Yeah! Great! Thanks, Kacchan!"

The camera widens to showcase the ease that the two move through the kitchen. Without speaking, they fall into a natural rhythm. Bakugo preparing a homemade sauce while water comes to a gentle boil for noodles, handing a cutting board behind his back to Izuku, who grabs it without even looking and starts to dice vegetables right behind him.

The camera lingers for a moment longer as their backs brush up against each other in the passing of cooking motions and then blurs out as text appears on screen.

[TEXT ON SCREEN:]

YEAR TWO

Katsuki Bakugo/Dynamight, 17 years old

“Thank you for sitting down with us again, Bakugo.” a professional voice greets the next scene. The interviewer, Akiyama, now with short black hair and rectangular glasses, shuffles through note cards across from him. “It's been about half a year since we last spoke one on one.”

Bakugo sat rigid in a chair, arms crossed, jaw set. “Yeah.” His fingers drummed against his bicep.

“How has your break been?”

He shifted, uncrossing his arms only to recross them tighter. "Doesn't feel much different than school." Bakugo scoffs. "Just no homework. Still gotta live at the dorms, and I did my internship full time over break."

The interviewer nodded, making a note. “You’ve been working with Best Jeanist's agency again, correct?”

“Among others.” His shoulders loosened slightly. “Edgeshot still takes me on patrol sometimes. Different approaches, different things to learn.”

“Are you excited to be going into your final year at UA? And your classmates? How have those relationships evolved?”

Bakugo’s gaze flicked to the camera, then away. “They’re...” He stopped, reconsidered. “They're fine. Less annoying these days.”

“Anyone in particular you’ve found yourself working with more often?”

The drumming stopped. His jaw worked for a moment before answering. “Depends on the exercise. Some quirks pair better for certain scenarios.”

“I noticed earlier footage of you and Midoriya cooking together. That seems to be a regular occurrence?”

“The idiot can’t cook for shit without supervision.” But there was no real heat in it, almost fond. “Someone’s gotta make sure he eats actual food instead of just protein bars and energy drinks.”

“So you cook for him?”

“I cook for everyone. He happens to be there. Says he wants to.” Bakugo’s ears went slightly pink. “And he’s gotten better at prep work. Doesn’t cry over onions as much anymore.”

The interviewer’s lips twitched. “The plate you left at his door this morning—”

“Next question.”

She flipped to a new card smoothly. “Your academic performance has remained consistently at the top of your class. Has your perspective on what that means changed?”

Bakugo leaned back slightly, considering. “Used to think being number one meant doing everything alone. That asking for help or working with others made you weak.” His voice dropped lower. “That was stupid.”

“What changed your mind?”

A long silence. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, more measured. “Real strength isn’t about doing everything yourself. It’s about knowing when you need backup and being reliable backup for others.”

“Has this shift affected your rivalry with Midoriya?”

Bakugo’s hands clenched, then deliberately relaxed. “We still compete. That hasn’t changed. But it’s...” He searched for words. “Healthier. We push each other to improve without the...” Another pause. “Without the other stuff getting in the way.”

“The other stuff?”

“Old grudges. Stupid kid shit that didn’t matter.” His voice hardened slightly. “Next question.”

The interviewer consulted her cards. “Your quirk development has accelerated significantly. The new applications you’ve demonstrated—”

“That’s from actually listening during support course workshops.” A ghost of a smirk. “Turns out the nerds in Development know what they’re talking about. Who knew?”

“I heard you’ve been working with Hatsume on specialized equipment?”

“Her and De—Izuku.” He caught himself. “They geek out over the technical specifications. I just tell them what works and what doesn’t.”

“Midoriya helps with your support gear development?”

The pink returned to his ears. “He notices things. How I move, where I could optimize.” Quieter: “He’s always been good at that.”

“Analyzing quirks?”

“Analyzing me.” His whole face flushed, looking surprised at what he just said. “My quirk. Analyzing my quirk. Fuck’s sake.” He immediately corrects.

The interviewer leaned forward slightly. "You've always been competitive with Midoriya. How are you feeling about his decision to not purse hero work after school?"

Bakugo went still. For a moment, the mask slipped.

"He's... been worrying about it," Bakugo said, quieter than before. "Losing the last of his embers. He acts like it doesn't bother him, but I know it does."

"And what do you think about that?"

"I think he's an idiot." Bakugo's hands tightened on the chair arms. "But I also think... there's gotta be a way. Support gear, a specialized suit, something that lets him keep going even if the quirk fades. I've been thinking about it. Drawing up designs in my head during patrols."

"You're designing a hero suit for him?"

"I'm thinking about it. Haven't said anything yet. Don't want to get his nerdy hopes up if it doesn't work." He looked down at his own hands. "But yeah. If I can find a way to build him something that keeps him in the field, keeps him saving people like he's supposed to... then I'm gonna do it. Whether he asks or not. The world deserves the hero he is. And he deserves it if he wants it."

Bakugo looks more serious now to Akiyama and then directly to the camera, "Don't mention a thing about this to him."

The interviewer gracefully moved on with a nod in agreement. “Looking ahead, what are your goals for the remainder of your time at UA?”

Bakugo straightened, back on firmer ground. “Graduate at the top. Get my provisional license upgraded to full. Start building my reputation as a hero who actually saves people, not just wins fights.

“Just one more question.” The interviewer smiled slightly. “What does being a hero mean to you now, compared to a year ago?”

"Me from a year ago would have said it meant being the strongest. Being unbeatable.” His voice softened, almost too quiet for the mic to catch. “Right now, I know it means being someone worth looking up to. Someone who makes others want to be better just by existing."

“That’s very specific.”

“Yeah, well. I’ve got a specific example.”

"Thank you, Bakugo." Akiyama bows as Bakugo stands from his seat.

"'til next time." He says sarcastically as the door closes behind him. The camera lingered on the empty chair for a moment before cutting to black.

The doc crew trails Bakugo, doing an over the shoulder shot showing Bakugo taking his phone out of his pocket to reveal on a text from Kirishima asking if he wanted to grab lunch. He ignored it, tucking the phone back into his pocket, and taking a sharp left into the elevators instead of heading for the main entrance. The elevator illuminated the button for the support department labs that is three floors down.

The support lab doors hissed open. Hatsume's pink hair was visible behind a welding mask, sparks flying as she worked on something that looked suspiciously like it might explode. Several first years scrambled around with various pieces of equipment.

"Oi, Hatsume."

She flipped up her mask, grinning maniacally. "Blasty! Here for more adjustments? I've got ideas about concentrated explosion channels that could-"

"Different project." He pulled out his phone, scrolling to the sketches he'd been working on late at night when he couldn't sleep. When Deku couldn't sleep either, judging by the light under his door. "Need your help with something. Off the books."

Her eyes lit up with interest as she peered at his screen. "Oh? Oh! Is this what I think it is?"

"It's a hero suit." He kept his voice low, aware of the other students nearby. "Full support-based. No quirk required."

"The muscle enhancement framework is clever, but the power source would need-" She grabbed his phone, zooming in on his rough calculations. "Wait, these shock absorption specifications..."

"Yeah." He took the phone back. "Based on what his body could handle at a hundred percent. The suit would need to compensate for the difference."

Hatsume's grin widened. "You want to build him a high tech suit. Like All Might's"

"He's given up enough. Can you do it or not?" The words came out harsher than intended.

She studied him for a moment, then grabbed a tablet and stylus. "The joints would need specialized actuators. I've been working on something similar for Iida's leg engines that might translate. And the impact distribution system—oh! We could integrate some of your explosion resistant materials for defense."

"Already thought of that." He pulled up another sketch. "The gauntlets could store kinetic energy from impacts, release it as enhanced punches. Not as strong as One For All, but..."

"But enough to make a difference." Hatsume was already sketching modifications. "The helmet would need advanced tactical displays. Threat assessment, structural analysis, basically give him his notebook brain as a heads up display."

"Can you do it?" He repeats.

"Can I do it?" She looked offended. "The question is how fast you want it and how many safety regulations you're willing to ignore."

"Whatever it takes." He paused. "But actually safe. It needs to work perfectly."

Hatsume's stylus stopped. She looked up at him, and for once her expression was serious. "Blasty, this isn't a semester project. A suit like this... it's going to take years. Years and years. We're talking close to eight years before it's completely built, maybe more if we hit setbacks."

Bakugo's jaw tightened. "Then we start now."

"Do you have any idea what the materials alone will cost? Not to mention the specs, the prototyping, the custom fabrication-"

"I'll figure it out." He cuts her off. "We start saving ASAP. Every yen we can get. We'll even get a select few of the extras in on it."

She tapped her stylus against the tablet, thinking. "If we're doing this, we need to do it right. And that means bringing in people who actually know how to build hero suits at this scale." Her eyes narrowed. "The Shields."

Bakugo nodded slowly. "Melissa. If she's down."

"Her father built All Might's war suit." Hatsume's voice dropped to match his. "If anyone knows how to build a suit that compensates for a dying power, it's them. We need as much info as possible from her. Blueprints, material sources, fabrication methods, the works."

"Can you reach out to her?"

"I've got a few contacts from the support expo last year. But Blasty..." She leaned in closer. "This stays quiet. If word gets out, if he finds out before it's a sure thing..."

"He won't." Bakugo's voice was steel. "Nobody finds out. Not Izuku, not our classmates, not the teachers. We keep this under wraps until it's real. Until we know it can actually work."

"And if it can't?"

"Then he never knows I tried. He can't find out until it's a sure thing. He'll just..."

"Try to talk you out of it?"

"Even more annoying, he'll try to say he doesn't deserve it." Bakugo's hands clenched at his sides. "Idiot thinks everyone else should get to be heroes except him."

Hatsume nodded, already pulling up material requisitions. "I'll need his measurements. Recent ones, since he's been losing muscle mass."

Bakugo's face seemed shocked at that verbalized observation. "I'll get them."

"And a full quirk analysis. I need to know exactly what the suit will have to handle."

"Already started one."

Hatsume made another note. "Eight years, Blasty. Maybe longer. That's most of our early careers. That's—"

"I know what it is." He cut her off, but not unkindly. "I know what we're signing up for. Just reach out to Melissa. I'll handle the funding, the quiet research, whatever else it takes."

"You know," Hatsume said, not looking up from her sketches, "most people would just tell him how they feel instead of committing to an eight year secret engineering project."

Heat crawled up his neck. "This isn't about— what are you even insinuate— this is about him being able to stay a hero."

"Right." She grins. "The fact that you've clearly been designing this for months and have memorized his entire fighting style is purely professional interest."

"Hatsume."

"I'm just saying, you could probably accomplish the same thing with some flowers and a nice dinner…"

"Are you going to help or not?"

She laughed, already pulling up design software. "Of course I'm helping! This is the best project I've gotten all year, maybe ever. This could be a monumental career innovation. My babies are going to make Deku-kun the first quirkless hero in the modern age!"

"Get me that meeting with Melissa," Bakugo said. "And start on the framework. We add systems as we go, as we can afford them, as we learn more."

"That's a slow build."

"It's the only build we've got." He turned toward the door, then stopped. "And Hatsume? Not a word. To anyone."

"Your secret's safe with me, Blasty." She was already lost in her work, but he caught her smile.

Bakugo didn't answer, already heading for the door. Muttering under his breath through the halls about how he has measurements to somehow get without being obvious about it. And years of quiet work ahead of him.

"Ugh, no fair!!!" A high pitched voice whines before the camera zooms out to take in the entirety of the common room.

Bakugo is the only one standing in the center, with most of the class sitting around him in a half circle. Bakugo is holding a folded piece of torn a white paper in his hands, and a triumphant smile on his face.

"Ha! Not my fault you all suck at this game." He says as he goes to sit in the empty spot next to Izuku.

"Do we suck— or do you and Midoriya have some freaky telepathy connection?" Jiro teases.

"Yeah! That would explain how you always win charades and always beat us in teamwork combat competitions." Denki adds.

"Nope, you all just suck and we're the best, surprised you aren't used to it by now." Bakugo taunts.

Midoriya is shown happily sat next to Bakugo with a proud smile on his face as the class keeps it moving to the next round. Bakugo leans over and gives him a shoulder bump and wink.

It was only four days later on the last day of filming when Bakugo received a call from Hatsume confirming Melissa Shield was on board for the project. Hatsume can be heard through the phone as they discussed further the first official steps for the suit.

A gentle hum of machinery and the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment can be heard.

[TEXT ON SCREEN:]

3 MONTHS LATER

Izuku Midoriya/Deku, 17 years old

Footage of cherry blossoms visible through the large windows of U.A.’s medical wing plays as a voice gently speaks. “We’re seeing continued degradation,”

Izuku Midoriya sits now on an examination table, shirt pulled up to reveal a constellation of scars across his torso. Electrodes connected to monitoring equipment traced patterns across his skin. A technician adjusted settings on a nearby machine while Recovery Girl reviewed data on a tablet.

“The embers are fading faster than our initial projections.”

The camera caught Izuku’s reflection in the window, his face carefully neutral looking towards the falling petals just outside, his hands gripping the edge of the table hard enough to whiten his knuckles.

“How much time?” His voice came out steady.

“At this rate? Six to eight months. Maybe a year if you limit usage to absolute emergencies only.”

Akiyama’s voice came from behind the camera, gentle but present. “Midoriya, thank you for letting us document this. I know it’s personal.”

He turned toward the camera, offering a bright smile that doesn't seem to reach his eyes like they used to. “Of course. I believe it's the right thing to do. To be truthful and vulnerable. People should see what happens after. ”

Recovery Girl removed the electrodes gently and with practiced efficiency. “You can put your shirt down. Same restrictions as last month—no heavy quirk usage during training. Light activation only. And I'm serious young man.” She scolds him.

As Izuku pulled his shirt back down, the camera caught the slight tremor in his hands.

“Walk with me?” he turns to ask Akiyama, already moving toward the door. The camera follows as they step into U.A.’s grounds, beautifully covered in fallen pink petals.

“How are you processing this?” Akiyama asked as they walked. “The timeline Recovery Girl mentioned?”

Izuku’s pace didn’t falter, but his shoulders tightened. “I knew it was coming. I’ve known since the war ended. But I'll admit... hearing specific numbers like that, makes it real in a different way. I'm not sure how I feel, but I do feel something about all this. I just— the words aren't finding me yet.”

They passed a group of first years who immediately stopped their conversation to stare. One pulled out her phone. Another whispered excitedly to his friend. Izuku’s smile turned brighter, more practiced, as he offered them a small wave.

“Does that happen often?” Akiyama asked once they’d passed.

“Every day.” His voice carried something between fondness and exhaustion. “It’s strange. Half of them look at me like I’m some kind of symbol. Like I saved the world single handedly, which—” He shook his head. “That’s not how it happened. Not even close.”

“And the other half?”

A notification buzzed on Izuku's phone, distracting him from the question. He glanced at it, and his expression softened.

“Bakugo?” Akiyama guessed.

Pink dusted his cheeks and he nods. “He’s asking if I ate lunch. He does that now, he checks in a lot. It's nice.” Izuku typed a quick response.

They turned toward the training grounds where the sound of explosions echoed in the distance. “Tell me about that dynamic. You two seem closer than ever.”

“We are!” He says eagerly and without hesitation. “After everything, we just... we understand each other now. We've gotten over the decade long miscommunication.” They talk as they watch smoke rise from the training area. “He knows about the timeline, and about the embers fading. He doesn’t make me talk about it… that’s not his way, but he shows up when he sees I need it.”

“Shows up?”

“At my room at 2 AM when I can’t sleep, pretending he just happened to be awake and 'saw my light on.' During training when I need a partner who won’t go easy on me but also won’t push me past my limits. With extra food because he ‘made too much.’” Izuku’s voice went soft. “He translates his care into action.”

They stopped at an overlook where they could see the city beyond U.A.’s walls. Construction cranes dotted the skyline, still rebuilding, even now almost two years later.

“The public attention,” Akiyama prompted. “How do you handle being idolized by some and hated by others?”

Izuku leaned against the railing, considering. “The hate is easier, honestly. I can weirdly understand it. People lost everything, and they need someone to blame. I can carry that. I can understand they associate the pain and pin the reason on me because I was the holder of One For All. Because I had a secret that was being used against me in destruction.” He paused, shaking his head away from a rant. “The idolization is harder. They build up this image of someone who…doesn’t exist anymore, can't even if I wanted to. Someone perfect and unbreakable. And when they meet me—just me, Izuku—I can see the disappointment sometimes.”

“You think you disappoint people?”

“I know I do. I’m not All Might. I'm barely even Deku anymore, you heard the timeline.” He trailed off.

The camera caught him rubbing his scarred hand absently.

“What scares you most about losing One For All completely?”

The question hung in the air. When Izuku finally answered, his voice was barely above a whisper. “Not being able to help. Watching something happen and being powerless again. I spent so long quirkless, dreaming of being a hero, and now I’m going back to that but with the knowledge and reflexes of what it feels like to be strong enough to make a difference. I'm… scared of the first moment my body reacts on instinct during an incident and the immediate and cold crash I'll feel a millisecond after when I realize I really am quirkless again.”

“Is that why you’re considering teaching?”

“Partly. But also because I’ve learned that there are different ways to be a hero. Aizawa-sensei saved us more times than I can count, and not just in battle. By believing in us and pushing us to limits he could see even if we couldn't, by being there and challenging our way of thinking,” His phone buzzed again. This time, a small smile crossed his face. “Kacchan sent a photo of his notes from today’s heroics class." He turns the phone to the cameras to show the notes. "He knows I hate missing it for medical appointments.”

“He takes notes for you?”

“He takes better notes than me, actually. He may call me a nerd but he's the one who color codes everything and gets better scores than me. Wait— Don’t tell him I said that!” The fondness in his voice was unmistakable. “Last week, when I couldn’t sleep again, he just showed up with his laptop and made me watch hero documentaries until 4 AM. Didn’t say anything about the fact that I’d been crying. Just sat there, occasionally complaining about the production quality. It was perfect.” He smiles.

They started walking again, heading toward the dorms. More students passed, some staring, others deliberately looking away.

“Do you talk to anyone else about the insomnia, or the nightmares?”

“Truth be told, nearly our whole class has them. We have group sessions sometimes, but...” He shrugged. “It’s different with Kacchan. He just knows.”

"I have a question about an old battle that doesn't have a lot of clear information on how it was won, and I was hoping you would be open to answering. If not, we can certainly skip." Akiyama announces, and Midoriya flashes a look of curiosity and nods for her to continue.

"The battle on Nabu Island." She states.

"Ah, yes. Against the villain Nine. He was a very tough opponent. He was actually an experiment of Dr. Daruma Ujiko, and received an incomplete version of All For One, capping his quirk capacity to—nine." He starts.

"He was an outcast who despised a society where the weak outnumbered the strong, he was aiming to build a new world order ruled entirely by who is the most powerful. When we ran into him on Nabu island it was from protecting a young boy Nine was trying to steal a regenerative quirk from, as he had been badly injured for quite sometime because his quirk was too powerful for his body, and was looking for a way to heal."

"Part of me understood him. One For All was obviously very harsh on my body, I have broken bones, punctured lungs, and everything beyond and in between. And because of that, I will have chronic pain for the rest of my life. And sometimes that pain is so bad it feels like you would do anything to have even a minute of peace. Being pushed into survival mode like that for so long, I… I empathized with his condition."

"He was still so powerful though, he had a devastating weather manipulation quirk, bullet lasers from his fingertips, kinetic shields, um, what else… a scanning vision quirk, and he had this hydra quirk that summoned these large, agile, serpentine energy constructs from his back that he could control, and of course all for one so he could steal and store up to 8 extra powers." He recalls.

"Because he was so strong, and we were isolated and caught off guard, we nearly lost both of our lives that day. There is good reason there isn't a lot of information on the ending of that fight." Midoriya trails off.

"Oh?"

"I suppose it's okay to reveal now…" He says as he contemplates his next words, he takes a deep breath before he starts again.

"Things weren't looking good for us. Like I said, we were close to dying at this point but neither of us would give up. I was trying to think through any strategy I could come up with and the only thing I could think of— the only option that could possibly give us a chance at winning… was if I transferred One For All to Kacchan." he admits. And sits quietly for a moment before continuing.

"I knew two people could have the power at once because once you pass it on, an ember still lives inside you. Like All Might had some of his power still even after he gave it to me, and like I currently have now, even after giving it up."

"But you gotta understand… at that time, he and I weren't on the best of terms yet. I knew he would hate even the idea of him holding this borrowed power, he was going to view it as me calling him weak—which, he did. But, eventually he knew it was the right thing to do. And so…" he trails of and takes another deep breath.

"Our bloody hands met, and I passed One For All to him. And he was absolutely incredible. We both powered up, moved in tandem, and we ended up defeating Nine with a double Detroit Smash." Midoriya smiles as he retells the memory.

"I am rarely speechless, but wow. That is incredible, thank you for sharing that. How did it feel? Sharing that with him?" Akiyama encourages.

"It took so much energy to hide and protect this secret quirk that had been given to me, I felt alone in that for a long time. Having One For All is such an honor, I would protect it and it's legacy with my life. It means so much to me. And when I passed it to him, I told him that it was okay… because it's him. I trust him with my life, even then, because I knew he was an incredible hero." He says.

"I think that was the first time he really knew what it felt like to have something that wasn’t just yours. Something you had to protect because other people believed in you. Because it was bigger than any one person. I was so proud of him” He smiles at the thought.

"That’s the thing about Kacchan. He can be loud, and stubborn, and he’ll probably yell at me for saying this, but when someone needs him, he’s there. He doesn’t need recognition. He doesn’t need anyone to tell him he’s a hero. He just does what is needed to be done."

"And what about you?" Akiyama steers the question back to him.

“I think that moment was special too because I was finally able to share the thing that had changed my entire life with the person I've always wanted to stand beside.”

"And that moment led to us beating Nine, and thankfully—now looking back I realize how lucky we are— because Kacchan had lost consciousness at the end of the battle and for some reason that stopped the transfer from completing and I was able to keep One For All." Izuku concludes.

“Thankful for us, you both won, and you were able to keep that power, otherwise we might not be here today." She points out.

"Final question,” Akiyama starts. “What do you want your legacy to be? When the embers are gone and you’re teaching the next generation of young heroes?”

“I want them to know that being a hero isn’t only about power. It’s about choosing to help even when you’re scared. Even when you’re weak. Even when the world thinks you can't.” He paused. “And that you don’t have to do it alone. Asking for help and accepting help, that’s strength too. Hope goes a lot farther than fear.” He stands up and bows to Akiyama.

"Thank you, Izuku Midoriya."

Cameras follow him out of the interview room, through the halls, and into the classroom. Catching Bakugo’s quick glance up, his expression shifting from neutral to soft for only just a second before snapping back to irritation.

“You’re late, nerd.”

“Medical ran long.”

“Whatever. I already copied the board work. Eat this.” He shoved a protein bar across the desk. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Kacchan.”

“Wasn’t a compliment.”

But the camera caught him sliding his notes between them, angled so Izuku could read them easily. It caught the way he shifted his chair slightly closer. And it definitely caught the grateful look Izuku gave him when he thought no one was watching.

The screen fades to black.

[TEXT ON SCREEN:]

SHOTA AIZAWA, RETIRED PRO HERO: ERASERHEAD
CLASS 3A HOMEROOM TEACHER

The scene opened on a sparse faculty office, late afternoon light filtering through half closed curtains. Aizawa sat with his capture weapon loosely coiled around his shoulders. His eyes fall heavy and tired as he tracks the camera crew.

“Aizawa-sensei,” Akiyama’s voice came from behind the camera, respectful but warm. “Thank you for agreeing to speak with us this year.”

“The problem children wore me down.” His voice carried its characteristic monotone, but something flickered in his expression. “Midoriya asked three times. Bakugo threatened to be even more disruptive in class if I didn’t do it. Logical decision was to get this over with.”

“You are such an important person to interview for this project. Not only were you essential and present during the war, you are also a pillar in our two featured hero's lives. They talk respectfully high of you, you know? As their teacher, their mentor… and as their hero." Akiyama pauses but Aizawa does not offer anything back yet. "Underground hero, to be exact which is why the public hadn't heard much about you prior to the attack at the USJ, is that correct?”

Aizawa leaned back, fingers steepled as he let out a giving in sigh.

“Yes, my quirk is better suited for stealth missions, the more villains that would have known about my quirk they would have found ways to work around it.” He admits. "That and I've never had the patience to be in the spotlight if you couldn't tell. I've only ever concerned myself with getting the job done."

"You've been able to stay with your same class from 1A to 3A, is that typical?"

"Not at all, but I feel very fortunate to grow with this class of heroes and see them through to the very end of their education here." Aizawa says firmly. "I have historically been a class 1A homeroom teacher but with my injuries from the war I have needed to reduce my training responsibilities and Nezu has allowed me to work my way from 1A to 2A, and now to 3A where I will stay after my problem class graduates."

"How have you seen your students change the last two years?" She asks, and then adds, "and how does that compare to past classes of yours?"

“How could things not have changed? Ever since that day they dragged Midoriya back in the rain. Maybe even before that. The war... it aged them in ways that training never could have. They went through more in the first year of high school than any pro hero has in their entire career. Their circumstances are immeasurably different. To everyone.”

“Any specific changes that stand out?”

“All of them.” No hesitation. “Everyone has something they will have to carry with them, a darkness they all have had to learn to navigate and use as a driving point to something better. But for this, I'd like to focus on the positive changes that I see, if that's alright?"

Akiyama nods. "Of course."

"Mina Ashido organizes support groups now, she calls them 'drop by hangs'" He barely smirks with an eye roll to follow. "But really she just makes sure no one isolates and normalizes a sense of vulnerability which has been helpful for a long of the students."

"Kirishima’s learned that 'being manly' means asking for help when he needs it, he is also good at encouraging a good mood. Todoroki talks to a lot more people, and volunteers often at women's shelters. Iida leads with more empathy in his equation now instead of just rules. Uraraka...” He paused. “She carries more than she should, but she’s learned how to turn her grief into focus for a better future. She will do amazing things.”

“And what about Midoriya and Bakugo?”

A subtle shift in Aizawa’s expression. A slight curl of the side of his mouth and his eyes softer.

“Those two.” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Midoriya came to us with a borrowed power and a self destructive streak that should have gotten him killed a dozen times over. Now… he’s facing the loss of that power with more grace than most adults could manage.”

“You know about One For All fading?”

“I’ve known since the war ended. He told me immediately. Didn’t want to yet, but Bakugo made him.” He lets out a gently amused hum. “That’s the thing about those two. They’ve become each other’s fail safe. When one spirals, the other pulls them back.”

“Can you elaborate?”

Aizawa pulled out a folder, flipped it open to reveal incident reports. “Six months ago, Midoriya pushed too hard during training, ignored his limits. One For All flickered out completely for three minutes. He panicked. Before I could even reach him, Bakugo was there. Didn’t coddle him, didn’t panic. Just stood between him and everyone watching and said, ‘Quirk or not, you're you. Remember?’ Midoriya stopped hyperventilating almost immediately.”

He turned a page. “Eight months ago, Bakugo took a hit to the chest during his internship and that sent him straight back to the war in a lengthy flashback. Midoriya talked him through it for two hours, never once touched him without permission, just kept talking about present details until Bakugo could separate then from now.”

“So you're saying they’ve become each other’s support system.”

“More than that.” Aizawa closed the folder. “They’re a great example that people can change, and history doesn't have to define you. Bakugo spent years tearing Midoriya down, and now he builds him up every single day in a thousand ways. Midoriya spent years chasing after someone who pushed him away, placing him high on a pedestal, and now he stands strong as Bakugo’s equal, calling him out when needed, supporting him without question.”

“That’s quite a transformation.”

“It’s what I hoped for when I didn’t expel them that first week.” His voice went quieter. “Though I never imagined it would take a war to get them there.”

Akiyama let that sit before continuing. “How did you feel having to train your students to fight in that war?”

Aizawa’s hand moved to his capture weapon, fingers running along the fabric, a self soothing gesture the camera had never caught before.

“Angry. Disgusted, even. Though, a logical part of me knew it was necessary, after a certain point they were, unfortunately, our best shot. We really needed all hands on deck. Especially Midoriya with One For All. But the part of me that’s their teacher...” He stopped, started again. “It was devastating. To prepare them for a fight they shouldn't have had to face and what could have been their deaths.”

“Do you regret—”

“No.” Sharp, immediate. “I regret that it was necessary. I regret that we couldn’t protect them better. But I don’t regret training as hard as I did, training them to survive it. I pushed them past what they thought they could handle and I'd do it again and again if it helped them stay alive. Even if they hated me for it."

“Did they hate you for it?”

For the first time, Aizawa looked directly at the camera and then shakes his head as he looks down. “No. Though I would understand if they did. Midoriya… he thanked me. He thanked me for believing in them enough to let them fight.” His voice cracked slightly. “Bakugo told me I wasn’t a completely useless teacher. From him, that’s practically a declaration of affection. They are all more grateful than they should be.”

”Can you tell us about the moment in the coffin in the sky between Bakugo and Shigaraki? I understand this is a tough memory to recall.”

”Myself and Phantom Thief, another student, as well as pro hero Manual, were positioned farther away, unable to blink even for a moment so we could keep Shigaraki’s indefinite amount of quirks at bay. Watching my strongest student lie motionless and die right in front of our eyes, is horrifying beyond description. Especially for Neito, this was his peer, and he couldn’t blink or look away from it. I thank Best Jeanist and Edgeshot for their life saving measures that day. Truthfully, I would never recover if I lost any of my students that day. But in reality, we did. For a moment.” Aizawa shares with a sadness written on his face. 

“Katsuki Bakugo was incredible that day, before and somehow after that moment. Though I will carry the images we couldn’t look away from for the rest of my life, and I hope to never see such a strong and promising hero in that position again.” 

“How do you see their two futures?”

“Midoriya will be one of the greatest teachers this school has ever seen. He understands what it means to be powerless and powerful, to fail and succeed. His influence on future heroes will save more lives than I think he realizes.” Aizawa’s eyes softened. “Bakugo will be number one. Not the way he originally wanted, it wont be done alone and through pure strength. He’ll be number one because he’ll inspire others to be better, and he will always be a hero you can count on. Because he’ll save people with the same intensity he used to reserve only for winning. He might be over confident at times, but he's not a liar. It might take a while, but he will be number one, as he has always stated.”

A knock at the door interrupted them. Without waiting for permission, Bakugo pushed it open, Midoriya visible behind him.

“Oi, sensei, you done yet? You promised to review our paired combat proposal today.”

Aizawa’s expression didn’t change, but something warmed in his eyes. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“Yeah, we can see that,” Bakugo said, but he was already pulling Midoriya into the room. “Doesn’t mean you can skip our meeting. You said 4 PM. It’s 4:03.”

“Kacchan, they’re filming—”

“So? Not our problem they're going over schedule.”

Aizawa looked at Akiyama. “Is there anything else?”

“Actually,” she said, “would you mind if we kept rolling? This seems relevant.”

Midoriya looked mortified, wide eyed as Bakugo only shrugged uncaring.

Aizawa sighed, “Fine. Sit down, both of you.”

They settled into a few chairs, Bakugo sprawling his legs out on a stool, Midoriya perching on the edge of his seat taking up as little room as possible, notebook already out. The camera caught the way their bodies are angled toward each other, knees nearly brushing.

“This is a training proposal?” Aizawa pulled out a marked-up document, “it's reckless.”

“What? It’s innovative!” Bakugo countered immediately.

“It requires perfect synchronization.”

“Which we have,” Midoriya added, quieter but firm.

“There's a lot of risk, if one of you mistimes—”

“We won’t.” They said it in unison, then looked at each other, something passing between them that the camera couldn’t quite capture long enough before turning their determined focus back to their teacher.

“You’re codependent to a degree that would concern me if I didn’t know any better.”

Midoriya’s fingers tightened on his notebook as Bakugo’s jaw clenched through the silence.

“But,” Aizawa continued, “I also see two heroes who’ve learned to turn their bond and trust into strength rather than weakness. Your proposal is approved for limited testing during supervised training only.”

The transformation was immediate. Midoriya lit up, that genuine smile that had become rarer since the war. Bakugo tried to look nonchalant but couldn’t quite hide his satisfaction.

“However,” Aizawa’s voice cut through their moment, “if either of you pushes past your limits, especially you, Midoriya, I’ll ban you from paired exercises for the rest of the term.”

“Yes, sensei,” they chorused.

“Now get out. I have an interview to finish.”

They left, already discussing modifications, their voices fading down the hallway. Aizawa watched them go, and for just a moment, his expression was unbearably fond.

“You care about them,” Akiyama observed.

“They’re my students.” Back to monotone.

“It seems like more than that.”

Aizawa was quiet for a long moment. “Every teacher has students that stay with them. That change them. This entire class... but especially those two. Watching them overcome their history, their trauma, their own limitations. Watching them choose each other over and over when it would be easier not to. They’ve taught me as much as I’ve taught them.”

A pause and then he adds,

"Its been the greatest pride of my professional career."

The camera faded to black.

[TEXT ON SCREEN:]

IZUKU MIDORIYA & KATSUKI BAKUGO
Winter break, 3A

The camera opened on a familiar setup of two chairs, the same sparse interview room from previous sessions.

Bakugo entered first, settling into the same chair from last year on the right. Midoriya followed just after sitting on the left.

“Welcome back, gentleman.” Akiyama’s voice came warm from behind the camera. “Year three is almost over. How does it feel to be so close to graduating?”

“Fast,” Midoriya said, settling into his chair. “It went by so fast.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bakugo muttered, as he stretches his arms out and then brings them together to massage his wrists as he speaks. “Felt like three years crammed into one with rotating work studies and internships sprinkled on top.”

The camera held steady on them both. They sat the same distance apart as last year, but something in their body language had shifted. Where before they’d been carefully angled away from each other, now they both sat slightly turned inward, shoulders touching.

"Just for some information before we begin, this will be our final interview for this episode, and then we will cover your graduation at the start of the next one. The timeline covered for this episode is last March, just before you started 3A, and goes until now— January 31st, just under two months before you graduate."

The pair nods in understanding.

“Good, well, tell me— what stands out most from your final year so far?” Akiyama asked.

“For me, this year was about finding new ways to help.” Izuku says first.

“He’s been TAing for the first years,” Bakugo cut in, surprising everyone. “Teaching quirk analysis. Nerd's pretty damn good at it.”

Pink dusted Midoriya’s cheeks. “Kacchan became apart of the big three!” He proudly states.

“I—” Bakugo started, then stopped. The camera caught him studying Midoriya’s profile for a moment. “Whatever. Yeah. With Icy Hot and Ponytail, not a big deal.”

"What? Yes it is, Kacchan!" Izuku protests with a full body twist towards him. "You're a role model to our entire school, the best representation of us. You get to take part in special raids because you have the trust of everyone around you and because you always win. You get to mentor other students, and you're so good at it! Kacchan… it is a big deal. You deserve that recognition and responsibility."

Bakugo covers his eyes with one hand, "I can't believe you just said all that sappy shit on camera right next to me." He tries to hide away in embarrassment. "God, how bad is his solo interviews?" Bakugo snaps his head up looking horrified to Akiyama who can be heard chuckling. Midoriya who is smiling with a slight flush to his cheeks.

“You’ve both have still remained in the public eye after the war. How has that experience been like for you?”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened. “Invasive.”

“There’s been a lot of speculation,” Midoriya added carefully. “About... various things. Especially with almost graduating, people are curious. They mean well,” Midoriya offered. “Most of them. They’re just... enthusiastic.”

“Tch. That’s one word for it.” Bakugo mutters. "Can't go anywhere without a bunch of screams and people grabbing at you to sign some shit they're gonna sell or yell at you for answers they think they deserve to know."

"He is unfortunately, kinda right." Midoriya adds. "The real fans, they're lovely. We can always tell the difference between a fan wanting something signed and a scalper. Our fans are always respectful, we are so grateful."

"When we were shopping for Aunties birthday gift" Bakugo turns to look at Izuku as he recalls a shared memory "we had people following us for blocks yelling all sorts of fucked up shit like "I heard Deku is going to be quirkless, Shigaraki won after all!" or asking me if I missed being muzzled on live tv? Or what it felt like to die? Just trying to get a reaction out of us to sell to the tabloids. Or! They beg us to date them!" Bakugo exclaims as he makes a disgusted face. "or ask us to give their numbers to our classmates. Or ask if we're dating!" His hands move fast between him and Izuku. "And normal shit too, like, asking us where we are going after UA, what agency or if we're going to open up our own. I mean, the bullshit list goes on and on and all we wanted to do was find a fucking gift for Auntie! Now—now we barely leave, during the day at least." Bakugo finally finishes his rant and catches his breath.

Midoriya looks at the camera with his lips pressed into a thin line and just shrugs in agreement, nothing to add.

“Is that why you are training at unusual hours?”

Another shared look. This time, Bakugo’s ears went slightly pink.

“Sometimes.” he said. “There's less distractions.”

“We have better focus when there is less people commentating or sneaking a live stream.” Midoriya added. “It’s been... nice. Quiet.”

“You graduate soon” Akiyama continued. “What are your plans?”

“Go pro and start climbing ranks.” Bakugo said immediately. "Right now my goals are to establish myself and start saving money for my future while taking the steps to get me to number one."

“Teaching certification and I will be attending UNI in the spring for a double major in Quirk Analysis and Hero History” Midoriya said. And then softer, “And... I want to publish some of my writing one day. Though, that's more of a long-term goal, I guess, which isn't really what you asked so yeah I guess—"

"Stop mumbling your way out a dream, nerd. You wanna write? Then you're gonna write the next best piece of literature or analysis thesis or whatever the fuck it is you want to write that this side of the world has ever fucking read, got it? People would love to hear your words, Izuku."

Izuku seems stunned by the words before muttering a shaky "Um…Wow. Thanks, Kacchan. That means a lot."

They share a moment of eye contact before Akiyama continues.

“You’ll both be going separate paths after graduation, then?"

The silence stretched too long. Midoriya’s fingers curled and uncurled against his leg. Bakugo stared at a point just past the camera.

“Yeah… That’s the plan,” Midoriya finally said, but his voice came out smaller than intended. He turns to look at Bakugo and offers a joking remark "you're finally getting rid of me after all these years? Are you going to throw a party?" He awkwardly chuckles.

The camera caught Bakugo’s micro-expression, something that flashed across his face as he listened to Midoriya speak.

"Shut up, we will still see each other all the time. You'd die without me. Who would even feed you? The bodega microwave meals? I don't think so." Bakugo scoffs.

Midoriya rolls his eyes, "I'm sure the university has adequate cafeteria food, Kacchan." The camera catches the smile on both their faces at the exchange.

“Together you’ve re-inspired what partnership looks like for hero work, before even becoming official pro's.” Akiyama observed. “Your combat synchronization is unprecedented.”

“We’ve had practice,” Midoriya said, his voice and smile warm. “Years of it, really. Even when we were... even before. Kacchan always pushed me to be better.”

“By being an ass.” Bakugo muttered.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment too long. The camera captured it all, the way Bakugo’s expression softened almost imperceptibly, the way Midoriya’s lips parted slightly like he wanted to say more.

Then Bakugo looked away, clearing his throat. “Next question.”

“What do you think your future partnership will look like? Professional, I mean.”

“We haven’t—” Midoriya started.

“Who says—” Bakugo said at the same time.

They stopped, looked at each other again. The camera caught Midoriya’s small smile, the way Bakugo’s shoulders relaxed.

“We work well together,” Bakugo said finally, carefully neutral. “I'll always need his nerd brain around.”

“Even if I’m teaching?” Midoriya asked, and there was something vulnerable in it.

“Especially then.” Bakugo’s voice went quieter. “Best teachers are the ones who stay sharp. Keep one foot in the field.”

"Okay but…" Midoriya pauses. "You know I can't do that."

"Or maybe you just need to change your way of thinking and learn to be helpful in new ways, isn't that what you said at the beginning of the interview?" Bakugo counters.

“We should probably discuss this privately,” Midoriya said, but he was smiling now, real and soft.

“Yeah, whatever.” Bakugo’s voice tried for dismissive but landed somewhere closer to fond. “Later.”

“Later,” Midoriya agreed, and the word sounded like a promise.

Akiyama let the moment breathe before continuing. “What’s something about your partnership that people don’t see? Something the cameras miss?”

They were quiet for a long moment, they both shifted slightly in their chairs, unconsciously closing the distance between their chairs by maybe an inch.

“We're just normal… friends." Midoriya says while looking at Bakugo who nods in confirmation. "Movies, video games, manga. We cook for the class together, Kacchan's a great chef and teacher! And, we take care of each other,” Midoriya said simply. “In small ways. Boring ways that wouldn’t make good footage. ”

“Thank fuck for that,” Bakugo muttered, and Midoriya laughed loud and bright.

The camera lingered on them, capturing this moment of unguarded warmth. The way Bakugo’s mouth twitched toward a smile. The way Midoriya’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Last question,” Akiyama said. “Same as last year. How would you define the other person, right now? Privately, on paper.”

The papers appeared, same as before, still folded up from the last time they did this exercise. But this time, neither hesitated. They both reached for their pens immediately, movements synchronized without trying.

Midoriya wrote quickly but carefully. When he finished, he folded the paper precisely, same as last year, but his fingers lingered on the crease.

Bakugo wrote just as fast, but the camera caught the way he paused before folding it neater this time, with more care and precision. His eyes flicked to Midoriya, held there for a moment, then back to his paper. He creased it roughly, and flicked it across the table smoothly.

“Done?” Akiyama asked.

“Yeah,” they said together.

“Any hints about what you wrote?” Izuku asks.

“No,” Bakugo said immediately.

But Midoriya tilted his head, considering. “I have more confidence in my answer this year.”

Bakugo’s breath caught audibly. The camera capturing his hand briefly twitch on the table, fingers spreading like he was grounding himself.

“Yeah,” he said roughly. “Me too.”

They stood to leave, and for just a moment, as they both reached for the door, their hands brushed, and they both froze for a fraction of a second. Then they were moving again, Bakugo holding the door open with gruff courtesy, Midoriya ducking through with a quiet “thanks, Kacchan.”

The final shot was a wide angle of them walking down the hallway together, not touching but close enough that their shadows merged into one long shape stretching behind them.

[TEXT ON SCREEN:]

END YEAR TWO