Chapter Text
People were not born equal. That realization came to Bakugou at age four. A vast majority of kids were born into nice, warm, loving families. He had not. But that was then, and now was now, 10 years later, taken in by his dad and creating his own family.
“Dad! Get up or you’ll be late for work again!”
Yep. His own nice, warm, loving family.
“Why does it matter to you so much? You’re still in middle school.”
“It’s gotta fucking matter to someone and it really shouldn’t be me the majority of the time.”
Bakugou finally heard the bathroom door open and close as he finished preparing both his and his dad’s lunches for the day—as he’d done every day since he was a kid. Seemed his dad had finally gotten up.
“Honestly, it’s like every fucking day he does this,” Bakugou grumbled down to his other set of parents. They both meowed back. “Thank you! At least you two understand! Unlike some so-called adult!”
“Shouldn’t you be heading off to school instead of ganging up on me with your cats?” Aizawa asked, finally making an appearance. He went straight for the coffee pot his son already made for him.
“I got time,” Bakugou answered, pulling up a chair.
Aizawa eyed him, confused. The routine was usually his son making sure he was up before leaving right away.
“I just need you to sign something.”
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
“What the hell, Dad! I didn’t do shit!” Bakugou yelled, pulling out some form from his book bag.
“Oh, and why didn’t you give this to me last night?” Aizawa asked as he took the form, quickly skimming the text.
“You got home late,” Bakugou answered.
Aizawa let out a low hum as he took the pen his son offered to him. His son wasn’t wrong. He had been called out the night before for some hero work. He quickly signed the form—something about future careers and schools—before handing it back.
“Thanks, Dad,” Bakugou said, stuffing the form and heading out. “I’m going. Don’t get into some big ass trouble rushing to work.”
“Can’t control outside forces, son.”
“Fine, die then.”
Bakugou closed the door behind him just as his dad began chuckling, rolling his eyes. Just another typical morning in the Aizawa household.
Bakugou took a deep breath as he made his way to school. The serene walk to school was always nice. It wasn’t too close to any busy areas, making the streets rather empty and quiet, and there weren’t many people to bother him with their presences.
“Katsukkun!”
That was, until Bakugou started actually getting close to school.
Bakugou took another deep breath, hearing a familiar voice. He tried to ignore it, quickening his pace, but hasty footsteps quickly made their way to him.
“Katsukkun! Wait up!”
For some reason or other, Bakugou actually stopped. He turned when his childhood friend made it to him. “Really, Yuu? Already out of breath?”
“Don’t make fun of me,” the other teen huffed. “And stop calling me Yuu! We’re third years now. Can’t you start calling me ‘Isato’ again? Or at the very least ‘Mihohara.’”
“Says the nerd who keeps calling me ‘Katsukkun.’ What are you? Seven?”
“…Fair enough.”
“Really? Not even gonna negotiate like ‘I’ll stop if you stop’ sorta shit?”
“Oh, so you’d stop if I’d stop?”
“…”
Bakugou answered Mihohara by roughly disheveling his dark and already shaggy hair. He honestly wondered why the nerd always seemed to show up again and again beside him, even when he’d clearly tell him to fuck off. Maybe it was how Bakugou was literally the only one who seemed to even notice him around. From the other boy’s dark violet, almost black hair covering his eyes to his weird mumbling habits, how he was always hunched over when nervous—which was pretty much 90 percent of the time—to his low—if not, complete lack of—presence. Mihohara Isato was a plain oddity whom Bakugou said to from his previous remark, “Oh, fuck off!”
Mihohara only laughed, playfully bumping shoulders with Bakugou as their school came into view. They headed into the building, swapped their shoes, and made it to their homeroom class in no time at all.
“Alright, everyone! Turn in your forms before you sit!” Bakugou’s homeroom teacher called as he and Mihohara walked through the door. They did as they were told, taking their seats soon after.
“What school did you put down, Katsukkun?” Mihohara asked from his spot diagonally behind Bakugou.
“You seriously gotta ask?” Bakugou arrogantly asked back. “Like there’re any other places better than Yuuei.”
“Oh, that’ll make you the second person from this school to make it into Yuuei!” Mihohara pointed out. Bakugou noticeably flinched at his words, forcing the freckled boy to spew out more, “L—li—like the hero Deku, right!? He—he—he went—he went here, too, right!?”
“Like I fucking knew that!” Bakugou yelled back, forcing Mihohara to shrink back in fear. Bakugou went to their unknown middle school because it happened to be close to his apartment. He had no idea Midoriya—the timid mess he’d known as a kid who just happened to rise to the near top of the hero ranks—had gone to said middle school until two years in. Now whenever anyone brought up how Midoriya had gone to his middle school, Bakugou’s emotions never hesitated to burst.
“Bakugou!” Bakugou’s teacher called him out for his loud behavior.
Bakugou growled under his breath, turning his back to Mihohara. So much for his goal of being the first and only person from his crappy public middle school to get into Yuuei.
“Oh, Mihohara, I see you’re applying to Yuuei, too.”
Bakugou flinched once more. He turned back to his childhood friend. Seemed he wasn’t the only one who reacted like so to their teacher’s casual remark.
“Mihohara? Who’s that again?”
“We had someone with that name in our class?”
“Isn’t that gloomy ghost boy?”
“Him!? Really!?”
Suddenly, Bakugou’s eyes weren’t the only ones on Mihohara. His eyes might not have been the only ones on Mihohara anymore, but he was still the only not laughing at the ordeal.
“No way!”
“Grades alone won’t get you into the hero program!”
“That’s—that’s not necessarily true!” Mihohara cried. “Sure, there’s no precedent, but—!”
“Yuu,” Bakugou cut into Mihohara, making the nervous boy jump. “You’re fucking Quirkless.”
“But—but… it’s been a dream since forever… I’m sure I can just try—!”
“With what? The entrance exams!? You’d be ripped to shreds!”
The class began laughing at Bakugou’s claims. Only, Bakugou wasn’t paying attention to them. He was busy reprimanding the Quirkless boy.
“Alright, class,” Bakugou’s teacher called out. “Settle down. We have homeroom to start.”
The classroom finally let go of the ordeal, turning their attention back to their teacher. All was forgotten. Though, only for the extras and until school ended.
“Oi, Yuu,” Bakugou called out as he stood. He ignored Mihohara’s startled squawk, grabbing the other boy by the back of his gakuran when he started to head out. “You’re coming with me.”
“W—wai—wai—wait! Wh—why!?” Mihohara cried. He looked out for whoever was remaining in class for some help. Sadly, no one seemed to notice him or Bakugou. Like usual… He could do absolutely nothing as Bakugou dragged him out. He couldn’t even see where the explosive teen was taking him with him facing backwards.
“S—so!” Mihohara started with false hope when they were off school grounds, voice high. Bakugou was silent the whole time. “Where are we going? Shopping? We’re near the shopping district, right? The—the buildings look like we’re heading there.”
Without an answer, Bakugou shoved Mihohara out in front of him. The freckled boy fumbled with his footing. And just as bluntly as how he shoved his childhood friend before him, Bakugou finally said, “If you know what’s good for you, don’t you fucking dare try going for Yuuei.”
“But—I mean—”
“Do you really want to be a ghost and get yourself killed? You hoping to come back in the next life with some Quirk!?”
“No! I just want—!”
“Hah!?”
Mihohara flinched, hunching over once more. He lost the words he had built in him, everything stuck in his suddenly dry throat. He blocked out the world and common sense before when it came to wanting to go and try. But, with Bakugou…
Bakugou suddenly let out a giant sigh. It recaptured Mihohara’s attention, the timid boy’s eyes flicking up again. However, Bakugou just walked past him. “Just do us all a favor and stop.”
“Wa—wait!” Mihohara stopped him. “Where… are you going?”
Bakugou stared back at his childhood friend. Mihohara looked just like a kicked puppy, making Bakugou frown more. What may or may not have been guilt began stirring in the pit of his stomach or something. He may have always questioned why Mihohara always came back to him, but really, he was no better. No matter how much he refused to acknowledge their relationship.
Bakugou let out another big sigh, ignoring how Mihohara winced at his actions. “Bargain sale.”
“What time does it start?” Mihohara asked, somewhat unsurely following behind when Bakugou began heading off again.
“‘bout five minutes.”
Mihohara let out a low hum in acknowledgement.
“If you’re coming along, you better make yourself useful.”
Another low hum followed by silence. And then, “Maybe I could get into general studies?”
“Yuu—”
“And somehow get into the hero department from there!”
“Yuu—!”
“Just think—!”
“There’s nothing to think abo—!”
“But—!”
The arguing between Bakugou and Mihohara picked up again. Bakugou wasn’t really all that surprised, but that didn’t mean he was any less infuriated. Mihohara was just as stubborn as he was unreasonable. Bakugou swore these traits were going to get his childhood friend killed.
Boom!
“Yuu! You’re such a—!” Bakugou started with a loud explosion.
Mihohara froze in fear. However, it wasn’t because of Bakugou’s rage.
Bakugou paused when he noticed Mihohara’s eyes were now elsewhere.
Slosh! Slosh!
A disturbing squelching noise sounded and suddenly a shadow loomed over Bakugou.
“What the—”
Bakugou finally turned, meeting face to face with a disgusting sludge villain.
“A body… with a good Quirk.”
The sludge villain lunged towards the two boys. The act was so sudden that Bakugou didn’t have a chance to think. His body only acted on its own, shoving Mihohara aside without a second thought to his own wellbeing.
Mihohara landed hard on the ground. When he looked back, all he could see was the villain engulfing his childhood friend and his explosions firing off in defense. The screams of nearby civilians were muted to him, his own cries filling his ears, “Katsukkun!”
Mihohara rushed to his feet, but that was all he could do. The villain, the explosions, the fear. There were numbers of factors that could’ve made him freeze, but the one thing that did was Bakugou’s own words gasping out.
“Get—! Back!”
Immediately, Bakugou regretted opening his damn mouth. The taste of disgusting sludge drowned him. He tried pulling the sludge away, but there was nothing to hold onto. He tried the next best thing, setting off more explosions.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
His explosions barely did a thing. They’d break the sludge away, but only for a moment. More sludge would take its place. His explosions were only a quick fix to keep from going under while at the same time making things around him worse. Somehow, the sludge amplified his explosions. But Bakugou couldn’t stop. Not when destruction from his explosions tore through the surrounding, nor when fires began to spread. The constrictiveness engulfing him, the inability to breath, the failure of his ability to help himself, they were what sent him into panic.
‘No!’ Bakugou inwardly screamed to himself. ‘Not now!’ But he couldn’t fight against the triggered panic attack that drowned out even the chaos around him. 10 damn years yet he was still that same helpless 4-year-old who could do nothing but shut down against crisis. ‘Stop! Leave me alone!’
“Someone grab help!” a civilian shouted from the crowd.
“Just hold on, kid!” another added powerlessly.
“Where are the heroes!?”
“There they are!”
Mihohara finally tore his terrified eyes away from the scene, searching for the heroes coming to his childhood friend’s aid. Four were first to appear: Uravity, Red Riot, Chargebolt, and Tsukuyomi.
“Excuse us! Heroes coming through!” Kirishima called out, rushing through the crowd.
“Everyone, please stay back!” Uraraka instructed. “We need this area clear!”
“The villain!” Kaminari pointed out, all four Yuuei alumni turning to the sludge villain.
“And the hostage,” Tokoyami added. He was first to react with Dark Shadow, having Dark Shadow reach to grab and save their hostage. However, the sudden bright explosion forced it back with a pitiful squawk.
“Dark Shadow!” Tokoyami yelled, worried.
“Explosions… too bright…” Dark Shadow sobbed. They were out.
“Explosions…?” Kirishima asked under his breath before turning back to the villain and hostage. He then saw a familiar tuft of ash blonde hair.
Kirishima let out a giant gasp. “It’s Katsuki!”
“What!?” Kaminari yelled back before realizing his friend was right. “Crap!”
“Can you shock the villain!?”
“Not without hurting Katsuki!”
“Fine! I’ll dig him out!”
Kirishima hardened up, prepared to rush in. However, Tokoyami quickly held him back with Dark Shadow. “You can’t! It’s too dangerous for you.”
“I’ll be fine!” Kirishima argued back. “This minefield has no effect on me! I can grab him!”
“But the villain will just get you, too,” Kaminari quickly added, getting in Kirishima’s way as well.
Kirishima turned to Uraraka. Perhaps she could make the sludge float away? “Uravity!?”
“I’m sorry, Riot!” Uraraka guilty called, busy muffling the flames with large rubble. “My hands are full! We have to wait for someone with a more suited Quirk!”
Kirishima clenched his jaw in frustrated. He knew his friends were right; none of their Quirks were good enough to save Katsuki. It was clear to them as it was clear to another fanboy watching in the front row of the turmoil.
“They’re not suitable enough,” Mihohara mumbled, distressed. He knew all four heroes’ abilities and came to the same conclusion. Now all anybody could do was watch, wait, and hope for a hero with a suited Quirk to appear this second. It was hard for Mihohara to watch his childhood friend struggling for his life with his bright red eyes… staring out as if… as if. Calling for help.
Mihohara suddenly shoved his way through, leaping for Bakugou. He had no idea what he was doing, his body moving on its own with some burst kicking in. He didn’t even acknowledge the four pro heroes yelling after him when he flew by. The only thing he could think of was doing something—anything—to save his childhood friend.
‘What do I do!? What do I do!?’ Mihohara inwardly screamed. He was drawing a blank even though he was drawing nearer to the villain with every fraction of a second. Until he thought of his hero notebooks. ‘Distraction!’
“You wanna die, too, little bra—!”
Mihohara cut the villain off, chucking his backpack at him with everything he got. It successfully threw the villain off and Mihohara took his chance to lunge for Bakugou.
“Katsukkun!” Mihohara cried doing everything he could to pull his childhood friend free. However, Bakugou was unresponsive. “Katsukkun! Come on! We need to get outta here! Katsukkun! Katsukkun!” No matter how unresponsive his childhood friend was, Mihohara refused to let up. Even with the villain coming to first.
“Why you—!”
“Katsukkun! Katsukkun!”
“Kacchan!”
Suddenly, a hand took both Bakugou’s and Mihohara’s wrists. The latter didn’t have time to react or turn to the owner before a powerful upward punch cut through the air.
“Detroit Smash!”
The powerful punch sent the sludge of the villain scattering. Suddenly, rain began to fall from the air pressure rising by the punch, washing away the fires. Standing before it all was another Yuuei alumni and big time hero.
“It’s Deku!” called another person from the crowd.
“His punch was enough to change the weather!”
“He saved the kids!”
Midoriya blocked out all the cheering for the time, more concerned over the two teens exhaustedly collapsed on the ground.
“Can you two stand?” Midoriya asked.
“I… don’t know,” Mihohara breathed. He didn’t let himself worry about himself yet, sitting up and shuffling to his childhood friend. “How’s—”
“Katsuki!” yelled the other four heroes, rushing over to the group.
“How is he?” Kirishima immediately asked as he slid over on his knees, instantly by his self-proclaimed little bro. Bakugou had somehow managed to sit himself up despite clearly still unstable, downcast eyes faraway.
“He’s not responding,” Midoriya said, trying to keep down the urgency in his voice. He reached out to Bakugou, however, only partway, unsure if he should touch the shaken teen. “I think it’s his claustrophobia.”
“His what?” Kaminari asked.
“He’s claustrophobic?” Uraraka questioned as well.
Midoriya nodded. “Something like that I think. Remember back in first year when that robot went haywire? Something like this happened before.”
“Come on, lil man,” Kirishima instantly tried to calm Bakugou down. “Everything’s alright now.”
“How’d he calm down before?” Tokoyami asked over his shoulder, blocking the crowd’s view with his cloak and Dark Shadow. He signaled the first responders to stay put for now.
“I don’t really know,” Kirishima answered. “Sensei snapped him out of it somehow.”
“Breathe, Kacchan,” Midoriya tried advising, finally placing his hesitant hand on the teen’s shoulder. “Slowly, in and out.”
Feeling the light hand on his shoulder, Bakugou finally glanced up. It took a moment for him to slowly register what was going on, what had happened, who was with him.
“What the…” Bakugou breathed, eyes regaining focus after the haze. “Fuck… Why’re there two of you…?”
Midoriya was taken aback by Bakugou’s first words. However, someone else wasn’t.
“Katsukkun! You’re okay!” Mihohara cried, startling all five heroes. They were all gaping at him, it finally clicking to the heroes that Mihohara was there. They knew there was a second teen involved in the fiasco—hard to miss when said teen had bolted headfirst into the disaster—but it being specifically the forgettable teen, they somehow… forgot. Not that Mihohara seemed to mind; he was busy being relieved everything ended without a catastrophe.
“Oh thank god,” Mihohara breathed in relief, resting his tired head on Bakugou’s other shoulder.
“Yuu?” Bakugou questioned before everything came back to him. “Yuu!”
Mihohara twitched at his childhood friend’s angry yell, pulling away. “Y—yeah!?”
“What the fuck did you do, you fucking idiot!”
“I—I, uh—!”
“Ran in to get yourself fucking killed!?” Bakugou let out a giant frustrated groan. “You exhaust me to no goddamn end!”
Mihohara just sat in shameful silence, head down as he took all Bakugou’s furious scolding. Though, the four young adults still around did come to his aid like the heroes they were.
“I’m glad everything ended alright,” Uraraka said with a deep breath.
“Hella, man,” Kirishima agreed. “And I’m just as glad our little bro got himself a manly friend looking out for him,” he added, latching his arm around Bakugou.
Bakugou let out another infuriated groan. He attempted to shove Kirishima away, but the pro hero had a strong grip. “Let go, shitty hair! And Yuu ain’t my friend!”
“Aww, our baby bro being a tsun?” Kaminari teased, going in to mess with Bakugou’s hair. Though, sadly, he wasn’t given the chance to with Bakugou threating to blow up his nearing hand.
“Touch me and die!”
Kaminari pouted. “Gosh, still showing that favoritism with Deku and Riot here.”
Tokoyami nodded in agreement. “Not much has changed since your childhood years.”
“Fuck off!”
“Okay, that’s enough teasing,” Uraraka came to Bakugou’s aid. “We still need to help with cleanup and to report everything. I think the police are gathering up the villain’s, uh, scattered sludge body right now.”
“Right, we should help with that as well,” Midoriya agreed before turning to the two teens still seated on the ground with him. “Can you two stand? Do you need one of us to take you home? I’d feel more comfortable if I knew you two got home safely.”
“I’m—I’m okay!” Mihohara answered first, shooting up onto his feet. He was suddenly hit with nervous excitement when realizing he was with five of many Yuuei graduates rising the hero ranks. Just as it had taken a moment for the heroes to register Mihohara being around, it took Mihohara a moment to resister the heroes as well. “Than—thank you so much for saving us!”
“No need to thank us. We’re just doing what we do best,” Uraraka responded to Mihohara with a sweet giggle.
“How about you, Kacchan?” Midoriya asked Bakugou, hand extended out to help the teen up. “Can you stand.”
Bakugou shot an indignant glare before standing himself. “Don’t look down at me. I’m fin—”
Bakugou wasn’t able to finish his remark. His legs betrayed him and wobbled. It was hard to say if Bakugou was lucky or not that he was caught and assisted in standing like a normal person, and by Mihohara of all people.
“Woah! Careful, Katsukkun!”
Bakugou’s glaring eyes shot back and forth between Mihohara’s face and his arms holding him. He then shoved them apart. “Let go, damn ner—” Sadly, his legs gave out again, this time Midoriya catching him.
“Kacchan!” Midoriya squawked.
Bakugou went completely tense.
“I really think one of us should take you home—”
“You let go of me, too, fucking Deku!” Bakugou yelled, giving yet another shove, but with an added explosion. “Everyone needs to stop fucking touch me! You all are just making me fucking nauseous, my god.” The damn panic attack really took everything out of him and Bakugou absolutely hated it.
“More reason you need someone taking you home,” Uraraka said, her tone more stern. Bakugou just shot back at her sternness with a glare.
“I’ll take him home,” Mihohara offered.
“Like hell you will!” Bakugou continued arguing.
Mihohara ignored his childhood friend’s stubbornness. He took ahold of Bakugou’s sleeve. “Come on, Katsukkun.”
“Oi!”
“Actually,” Tokoyami stopped the teens. “I think the police would like to ask some questions about the ordeal first.”
The group turned, finally noticing the police waiting patiently on standby. They smiled and waved, the group returning the gesture albeit more awkwardly. Save for Bakugou, who just let out another annoyed groan.
“Fine, let’s get this over with.”
After Bakugou and Mihohara answered the questions the cops asked them, they were free to go. Mihohara followed up on his offer and followed Bakugou to his apartment much to the other’s displeasure. At least the walk back was silent. Both their thoughts were elsewhere, until,
“Hey—”
“So—”
Bakugou and Mihohara simultaneously started. Mihohara twitched at this while Bakugou wasn’t fazed.
“Y—you first,” Mihohara stuttered.
“You didn’t see a goddamn fucking thing.”
Mihohara froze. However, Bakugou didn’t stop walking. “Wha—what’d you mean?” he asked, hurrying to catch up again.
“You. Didn’t. See. Anything,” Bakugou hissed. “Not one damn word about what happened today. Especially with those loser heroes.”
Mihohara was once again taken aback. He didn’t freeze up again this time, but his pace did drop. Did Bakugou mean being attacked? Him jumping in to try—and fail—to help? Being saved by Deku and them? That they were all familiar with him? The panic attack? Or maybe it was all of it. Either way, Mihohara kept his mouth shut and nodded his head, even if Bakugou wouldn’t catch the gesture with his back to him.
“…so?”
Mihohara picked up his head that had dropped. “Huh?”
“Didn’t you wanna say something, shitty nerd?” Bakugou growled.
“Oh! Uh. N—nothing…” Mihohara mumbled, gaze dropping yet again. “Was just. Trying to fill the silence and all…”
Bakugou hummed in acknowledgement, slowing to stop when his apartment came into view. “Alright, I’m back fine. We good now?”
Mihohara perked up once more. “Eh?”
Bakugou rolled his eyes. He walked back up to Mihohara, his childhood friend going rigid at the action. He even took a cautionary step back. Bakugou only ignored it, sweeping his fingers through Mihohara’s dark violet bangs. They pulled back out of his eyes, revealing the gradient hue. Midnight blue at the base while a soft yellow lightened the top. Not many—if any—knew the full features of Mihohara’s eyes with his bangs always hiding them, but Bakugou had known the timid boy almost forever. His incomparable eyes weren’t a surprise to him. Though, Bakugou still cracked a small smirk.
“You’re fucking blind, Yuu. There ain’t no way you can actually see shit like this.”
“Eh!?” Mihohara squawked, jumping back. He turned into a stuttering mess, trying to defend his ability to see.
Bakugou only rolled his eyes once more, though was still supporting his barely there smile. He turned his back to his childhood friend as he started heading inside. “Whatever.”
Mihohara stared back at Bakugou’s retreating figure, brushing back his bangs as Bakugou had done moments ago as he did so. A smile of his own grew on his face. And as his bangs fell back to how they always were, Mihohara turned and went on his way. After everything they’d went through, he was glad his childhood friend was doing alright. However, he didn’t realize that that was just on the surface.
Bakugou closed the door behind him after entering his apartment. His smile dropped on his way in. He slumped back against the hard surface, taking a deep breath. Then another. And another. Reminders that he was breathing. That he could breathe.
“Damn it…” Bakugou cursed under his breath. He took another breath as he pushed himself up off the door. Another breath heading into his room. Another, closing that door behind him. Another, dropping his things onto the hard floor. Another, yanking off his restricting uniform jacket. Another, sliding the door to his balcony wide open to let in more air. Another, collapsing onto his bed. Another, letting out more cursing, each louder than the last.
“Damn it. Damn it! Damn it! Damn fucking all of it!” Bakugou screamed into his pillow. And after a moment, he turned to breathe again. Nothing changed. “Damn it…” he let out once more.
“Nya!” a familiar meow cut into Bakugou’s moroseness.
Bakugou picked up his head a bit, spotting one of his cats by his pillow. “Mitsuki? How’d the fuck you get in?” He’d closed the door behind him, wanting to be alone.
“They were standing outside your door,” another voice explained.
Bakugou turned to the door where his dad stood.
“Your cat-mom practically jumped me when I came in to get me to open your door,” Aizawa said, stepping in. He didn’t mind that his son turned his back to him again, continuing on to his bed. He sat beside his son. “I saw what happened on the news, but by the time I got to the shopping center, it was all over. I ran into Midoriya and them though.”
Bakugou let out another vexed groan.
Once again, Aizawa wasn’t bothered.
Knowing his son enough, Aizawa didn’t ask if he was alright. It’d set Bakugou off. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t comfort his son. He ruffled his ash blonde hair as he’d always done. Though, there was no indication it helped. “I’m all ears if you want to say anything.”
“What’s there to say?” Bakugou muttered.
Aizawa shrugged. Not that his son could see with his back still to him.
Aizawa took back his hand, scooting over a bit so he could lay back on his son’s bed as well. It was a snug fit with part of his body hovering over the edge, but Aizawa wasn’t bothered. Neither was Bakugou, it seemed.
“What do you want for dinner?” Aizawa asked. “I’ll cook tonight.”
Bakugou twitched. “…I didn’t get groceries….” he muttered. “Goddamn villain…”
“That’s okay,” Aizawa reassured. “We can order takeout then. I know you prefer that over my cooking.”
Bakugou hummed in acknowledgement.
“Any preference on what?”
A head shake no.
“…Do you have an appetite?”
Another head shake.
Aizawa let out a sigh. He shifted to ruffle his son’s hair again. “You know you can tell me anything.”
“I know,” Bakugou said, his voice tensing in anger. “I just—!” he let out another frustrated groan. He turned his head a bit towards his dad, though back still to him. “Like, what the fuck was I supposed to do!? I couldn’t breathe! I—I couldn’t move! I couldn’t do fucking shit for myself a-goddamn-gain!” He let out another angry yelled, muffled by his pillow.
Aizawa waited a moment until his son calmed down a bit again before speaking. “From what I heard, nobody could do anything to stop that villain either until Deku came. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about not being able to do something pros couldn’t even do.”
“It wasn’t the fucking villain, Dad!” Bakugou snapped, finally showing his distraught face. “It was—!” His words suddenly caught in his throat. His gaze dropped. He turned his back once more. “Nothing…”
“Katsuki…”
Bakugou didn’t respond. However, he did scoot closer to his dad so that he was laying against him. The physical contact was a reassurance. Like when he was a kid. A sure lot of nothing had changed since he was a kid…
“It’s nothing, Dad. I’m fine, but… could you… stay. A little. Or some shit…?”
Aizawa cracked a small smile. His son may not have shared what his problem was, but he still needed emotional support, and there was no way Aizawa was going to leave when his son needed him. “Yeah, sure.”
At Aizawa’s answer, Bakugou turned again. He curled up against his dad, eyes shut in rest. His forehead was still creased in annoyance. Yep, the same child from age 4 to 14.
The room fell silent with Bakugou resting and Aizawa not wanting to disturb his son. Though, Aizawa still needed to order dinner later. So, he pulled out his phone to text Present Mic to grab takeout for them after reassuring him Bakugou was doing okay, having been the one to rush to inform Aizawa about the incident. More things that hadn’t changed: Aizawa asking Present Mic for help with his son and Present Mic happily doing everything as the world’s number one uncle.
Sometime later, Aizawa felt his phone go off. It was silent, but still on vibrate. It also successfully woke him up—having accidentally fell asleep—while not bothering his also asleep son and his cats who ended up on him.
Aizawa flipped open his phone. It was Present Mic letting him know he’d grabbed their takeout and was almost to the apartment. Well, time to get up then.
Aizawa carefully got up as to not disturb his still sleeping son and his cats. He was amazed he didn’t accidentally roll off, having fallen asleep on the edge. Could’ve been his ability to sleep soundly anywhere anytime or whatever. Though, he did have trouble getting up and not by the desire to keep sleeping like usual.
When Aizawa stood, he felt a light tug on his scarf. He turned, locating the loose end and following it to where it ended--in Bakugou’s grasp. Seemed his son had held onto it when he fell asleep, another habit he hadn’t seemed to outgrow.
Aizawa cracked another smile at the sight. He didn’t hesitate to take off his scarf, draping it over his son along with a thin blanket. He gave one last ruffling to his son’s hair before heading out, leaving the door a crack open.
After waiting a bit longer in the kitchen space with some work he’d brought home, Aizawa received another text from Present Mic. He had just arrived, coming up. With the alert, Aizawa went ahead and opened the door. When he peeked out, his colleague was already heading for the door. He left the door open for Present Mic, heading back to his work again.
“Where’s the little guy?” Present Mic asked when coming in.
Aizawa held a finger to his mouth, signaling Present Mic to stay quiet. “Still asleep. His panic attack probably took a lot out of him.”
“He had a panic attack?”
Aizawa shrugged. “He didn’t tell me outright, but from the way he was acting and how he didn’t want to say, plus what the others told me, I think he did.”
“Poor kid,” Present Mic mumbled.
“Don’t say that,” Aizawa reassuringly scolded. “They’re rare now, but still having them really bothers him.” He let out a sigh. “He’ll be alright.”
Before either Aizawa and Present Mic could say anything more, Bakugou’s phone started ringing from the other room. Some obnoxious band that the teen listened to and chose as his ringtone just to bother his dad. After a moment, it cut.
“What do you want, Yuu?” Bakugou’s grouchy voice spat. “Wait, wha—hold on! What do you mean your Quirk came in? How the fuck—WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUR ARM’S BROKEN!?... Of course it’s fucking important; it’s broken, you idiot! Forget the Quirk; go to the damn hospital!... No—!” Bakugou let out a giant, infuriated groan. “Where the fuck are you!? I’m dragging your shitty broken ass there!”
And before Aizawa and Present Mic knew it, their boy was rushing out his room. Even his cats were peeking out the door wondering what the commotion was all about.
“Dad—aw shit, Mic-ji, you’re here, too!?” Another troubled groan. “Damn it, sorry, I gotta go out for a bit.”
“Everything alright?” Present Mic asked, not minding being brushed aside. From what they picked up of Bakugou’s conversation, their boy seemed to be needing to deal with a pretty big issue right then. “Need a ride?”
“No,” Bakugou answered as he rushed to put on his shoes. “Just need to beat some common sense into a big ass fucking idiot. I’ll be back later for dinner; don’t wait up for me. Bye, Dad, Mic-ji.”
And with that, Bakugou was out the door.
Speechlessly, Present Mic turned to Aizawa, clearly questioning what just happened.
“See, he’s alright,” Aizawa answered his colleague’s unspoken question.
“And we’re just gonna ignore this ‘broken arm’ business?”
“Well, it sounds like Katsuki’s handling it on his own.” Though, despite saying this, Aizawa still couldn’t help wondering if maybe they should’ve gone along with his son. But then again, if he really needed help, Bakugou would let him know in some way. That’s usually how things went with the father-son duo.