Work Text:
A summons from the Department of Heroics was impossible to ignore if you wanted to keep your license. From the subject of this meeting, however, Bakugou was still tempted to just ignore it and let those skinny fuckers take it away anyway. Here he was, facing a final warning before his license was revoked, and the meeting was with none other than his childhood ‘friend’ Midoriya.
Deku. Bakugou had kept tabs on him ever since they parted in middle school, Bakugou becoming the first in his school to go to UA and Midoriya going to a top legal school.
That quirkless fuck had risen quickly through the Department, using his position to convince the Department to crack down more on un-heroic heroes. It might’ve cleaned up some bad apples from the Hero side, but the damage to the impervious image of Japan’s heroes was irreversible.
Bakugou left the elevator as soon as it opened on the twelfth floor. There was a flurry of office noise as he made his way to the back of the giant rows of cubicles to meet with Midoriya. He paused in front of the door before deciding to just walk in. Why give the fucker a chance to compose?
Bakugou entered the office to see the familiar green of Midoriya’s hair, a sight he hadn’t seen for over twelve years. Midoriya was partially standing, clearly caught in an attempt to stand up before Bakugou entered the room.
The window behind Midoriya was open, and the office was well lit. The walls and furniture were wood, well enough for a bureaucrat like Midoriya had turned into, and certainly better than the plastic offices on the other side of the door.
“Hello, Bakugou,” Midoriya greeted. He let out a small smile.
“Deku,” Bakugou answered curtly back, scowling.
Midoriya’s face scrunched at the name and his fists balled before loosening. Bakugou smirked at the rise he got out of him. As Midoriya exhaled and calmed himself, Bakugou took the chair in front of Midoriya’s desk. Midoriya sighed and sat down himself.
“Bakugou, I thought you would be able to at least greet me professionally considering the circumstances, but I guess even in that i’m just asking for too much.”
“What, you want me to smile as you take a victory lap around me?” Bakugou asked, angry at the insinuation.
“Victory lap?” Midoriya asked, disbelief on his face. “What, you think I want to settle some score from middle school? It’s been years, i’ve moved on.”
Bakugou scoffed and looked to the wall. There was a nice picture of a pink flower in a frame, a ladybug crawling on one of its petals.
“Bakugou, you’re here because every single time we get a police report, they mention a multitude of problems we have been asking you to fix for years. We never even get a hero after-action report from you, no matter how much mail we send to you and your office. The reports are quite detailed in grievances the police have had with you. Unnecessary force, unnecessary destruction of property, endangerment of public and police, threats to civilians, and on and on and on. This isn’t even counting the constant complaints I get from citizens telling me how you shove them and berate them and do who knows what else.”
“So I knock into some people or accidentally blast a car. Big deal,” Bakugou turned to face Midoriya again. “At least i’m actually out there doing actual hero work, not sitting behind a fucking desk and telling the good guys when they screw up. I’m the one doing all the work out there, you know.”
“Bakugou-” Midoriya starts, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands in frustration.
“No, Deku, i’m not letting some quirkless loser prevent me from doing my job,” Bakugou sat up and pointed at Midoriya, glaring. “You are going to give me back my hero license right now so I can go out there and do my job. Y-”
“Or what?” Midoriya asks, cutting through Bakugou’s shouting. “Are you going to beat me up? This isn’t middle school, Bakugou. We’ve already sent you multiple letters and visits telling you a visit to a psych and anger management would let you keep your job. How is it my fault that you don’t take it? We all agreed on it. I didn’t even want to be the one to have this talk, but my coworker left because her kid was sick. Now we need to know, will you be going through with the requirements so you can renew your license or are you clearing out your desk at your office today.”
“‘We all agreed’? So you are just using your position to get back at me! Trying to tell me i’m not strong enough to do my job? Spreading rumors that I crack under pressure? How have you convinced these poor dicks to get rid of me?”
“Oh my God Bakugou, I don’t care about this stupid rivalry you think we’ve had since the first grade.” Midoriya stares deep into Bakugou. “There never was a rivalry. The only thing we ever shared was you beating my ass when I did anything remotely better than you.”
“Liar! You asshole! You were always moping and hiding because of your quirklessness, bitter that I worked hard to win and had the best quirk in school. Using every chance you had to humiliate me and bring me down to your level….”
“My level?” Midoriya snapped before breathing in and composing himself again. “Bakugou, did you think you were a saint in a past life, or someone who saved thousands of people from starvation? All you ever were was lucky that genetics dealt you a good hand. It was you who twisted that into something that made you beat down everyone else around you to prop up the idea that you were the best. You did nothing to deserve your quirk as much as I did nothing to deserve a lack of my own.”
Bakugou snorted. Clearly they were getting off topic.
“Alright, whatever, now you’ve had your chance to yell at me. Now give me back my license, Deku.”
“Bakugou,” Midoriya said, sighing in frustration, “this isn’t some game I’m playing with you. You either meet our requirements or you’re out.”
“I’m not going to some fucking head doctor-”
“Then we’re keeping your license.”
“Deku,” Bakugou growled.
“Christ, I’ve had enough of this. Here I thought twelve years and society would’ve turned you into a normal fucking human. Wrong on me again. Get out of here, Bakugou.”
Bakugou growled and stood up, kicking his chair into the wall. He made his way to the door. When he opened it, he turned back to berate Midoriya some more, but Midoriya’s angry gaze stopped him. Bakugou huffed and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
The closed door brought Bakugou back into the noisy rush of phones and workers talking in the department’s cubicles. Some looked back at him from the door slamming, but most remained focused on whatever work they were doing. Bakugou sped walked all the way to the stairwell, descending two steps at a time. The closer he got to the ground, the more his heart pounded in his ears.
That was it, his career, and he just shoved it back at Midoriya.
What was it worth, anyway? All it ever was ended up being red tape to keep him down from the top of the hero rankings.
Bakugou exited the stairwell and walked out of the parking garage to meet Kirishima, who was waiting on a bench talking into microphone earbuds in what must’ve been a phone call. Catching sight of Bakugou, Kirishima hung up and sat upright, smiling and stretching.
“Did you get your license back, Bakugou?” Kirishima asked, smiling up at Bakugou.
“No.”
“Ah,” Kirishima replied, smile falling. “Bummer, dude.” Then Kirishima lit up again, “I’m sure in six months they’ll be begging you to come back as Ground Zero again, though.”
Bakugou sighed and shook his head. He began walking away and Kirishima stumbled upright to follow him. He jogged back up to Bakugou and put his hand on his shoulder.
“Well, uh, we could go to this new soba place downtown. I heard it was pretty alright, and more importantly cheap. Plus-”
“I just want to be alone right now,” Bakugou stated, brushing off Kirishima’s hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, sure man,” Kirishima replied, standing still and frowning as Bakugou continued to walk away. “I’ll catch you later,” Kirishima said, but it mostly came out as a whisper.
Bakugou continued to walk East, nowhere in particular. The sun was setting and the nightlife was arriving across downtown. Most of Bakugou’s thoughts remained on Midoriya and Kirishima. Kirishima… why was he always so mean to him? He remembers that time Kirishima had gotten up at a movie theatre to use the restroom, leaving his phone behind. There was a buzz of a text and Bakugou read the screen.
‘Why do you even hang out with that asshole?’
That could’ve been from any number of Kirishima’s friends, but the only one it could be aimed at was him. Out of all the people Kirishima hung out with, Bakugou was the only one that refused to even call him by his name.
‘Asshole, asshole, asshole, why am I such an asshole?’ Bakugou thought, turning into an alley to sit down and rest. He held his head and began to slowly inhale and exhale, just like someone taught him years ago…
There was a loud clanging in the alley, followed with the unmistakable sound of fists colliding with a body. Bakugou stood up and looked into the alley.
A man with glowing eyes was currently pinning a bleeding woman to the wall. Bakugou began walking over to them. A scene he had seen so many times before. An imposing stranger, the handing over of the purse, the trail of tears on the face…
“Hey, asshole!” Bakugou shouted, palms lighting with an explosion. The stranger turned to him, teeth bared.
Bakugou moved to run at him, but stopped himself. He had no license, if he did this and got caught, well, he probably wouldn’t get his license again. But there was the man, glaring at him, walking with his fists ready to strike. There was no way he was going to lose this to some two-bit mugger punk. Bakugou started again and rushed the man, sending an explosion into his stomach. The man cried out as Bakugou rained fists and explosions across the man, stopping only when he slumped onto the wall and fell. He was clearly unconscious, but breathing. Bakugou turned back to the woman, but she was already gone.
Alone again, but a victor nonetheless. Bakugou turned and walked back onto the street and towards home.