Chapter Text
As a kid, Bakugou always dreamt of being a hero. The second he got his quirk, his mind was made. He’d be a pro hero. No ifs, ands, or buts. Through hard work, a few solid mental breakdowns, and more trauma than one person should go through, he achieved his dream. Ground Zero is the number two hero and has been for the past 20 years. In those 20 years he did a lot. He started his own charity foundation to raise awareness for PTSD in first responders and pro heroes. He got married. He took down some of the nastiest villains Japan had seen since the defeat of the League of Villains. Even at 42 years old, he’s still on top of his game. Sore joints and hearing loss weren’t going to slow him down.
Bakugou always thought he’d be a hero and nothing else. He never expected to be a philanthropist or a husband, but those things happened anyway. What could be more fulfilling than those three things? He didn’t believe anything else could add up. Nothing else could even come close to being as enjoyable and satisfying. He was wrong, apparently. There was one thing that could give him more. That could make him feel even more like a hero. All it took was an unexpected phone call, denial, negotiations, more denial, a schedule change, and a metric ton of patience.
-
Bakugou stares at the door in front of him, nostalgia filling his mind. He can still remember how it felt to stand in front of this very door for the first time 26 years ago. It’s a strange feeling, knowing Aizawa won’t be standing at the desk when he walks through the door. Knowing that desk now belongs to him. He listens to the voices inside the room.
“Who do you think our teacher will be?”
“I don’t care as long as it’s not Ground Zero. I bet he’s gonna expel half his students right off the bat.”
“I’m sure he isn’t that bad…”
“He’s Ground Zero! The number two hero! He’ll be a nightmare of a teacher.”
Bakugou smirks, then lets his face fall into its typical scowl. He slides the door open with more force than necessary and stands behind his desk. “Why don’t you enlighten me on why I’ll be a nightmare of a teacher.”
The students freeze, fear etched on their faces. No one talks. No one moves.
“Are you just gonna stand there like a gaggle of idiots or is someone gonna answer me?”
A student crosses his arms. The student has long, black hair pulled into intricate braids. He’s smirking. Bakugou recognizes that smirk. It’s an expression that says ‘My presence here is a blessing. I’m better than all of you. Worship the ground I walk upon.’ Bakugou recognizes that expression because it’s the very same he wore at the start of his first year.
“What’s your name, kid?” Bakugou asks.
“Hanamori.”
“Alright Hanamori. What’s your quirk?”
Hanamori’s smirks spreads into a grin. “I can turn shadows into physical things with mass. Weapons, shields, basically anything.”
Bakugou plants his hands on the desk and leans forward. This kid is on a pedestal. It’s Bakugou’s job to knock him down. “Hanamori Joji. Quirk; Shadow Solidification. You were first in the practical and written entrance exams. Your grades are incredible. I’m sure you’ve been told your whole life that you’ll be a great hero.”
“Damn right.”
“With an attitude like that you’ll be nothing more than a loner falling behind his peers. You aren’t any better than the other students here. You’re all equally unqualified. None of you are pro hero material. It’s my job to make you pros. So sit the fuck down, don’t question my teaching skills, and lose the superiority complex. Got it?”
Hanamori doesn’t move. He stands his ground, scowling. “Make me.”
“Are you challenging me, kid?” Bakugou asks, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. This kid is gonna be trouble, but Bakugou knows just how to handle it. “Because our quirks ain’t exactly compatible.”
“You don’t scare me.”
Bakugou snarls. “I should. You wanna know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I know how you work. I know exactly how to beat you down and build you back up as a hero. A strong quirk isn’t enough to be a hero. Now sit the fuck down before I lose my cool.”
Hanamori slumps into his seat.
Bakugou nods. “Good. Now let’s get started. I’m Bakugou Katsuki. You all know me as Ground Zero. You will refer to me as Mr. Bakugou. This class is gonna put you through hell. You’ll be pushed beyond your limits. Your strength and willpower will be put to the test. I won’t go easy on any of you.” He stands up straight. His entire presence demands attention. The students know he’s a force to be reckoned with. “These next three years will break you, but they’ll also make you stronger. I intend for every single one of you to graduate. Don’t take any of this lightly. You decided you wanted to be heroes. So power through all the shit I’m about to throw at you. Now get your gym uniforms on. We’re doing a quirk assessment.”
A girl in the back raises her hand. “Um… What about orientation?”
“Orientation is just sitting in a crowded room to watch a welcome video Deku recorded ten years ago. It’s a load of bullshit. This is my class. I get to teach it however I want. Get those uniforms on and meet me outside.”
-
Bakugou slowly paces in front of his students. An air of intimidation surrounds him, contrasting the feeling of unease around the students. All eyes are on him, as if he’ll snap at any moment. The tension is palpable. Bakugou has to fight back a laugh. It’s amusing to him that these students fear him so much. He knows he’s gone a bit soft thanks to his age and who he married, but he’ll be damned if he lets these snot-nosed brats figure that out. He wants them to be scared. He wants them to use the fear to drive them.
One student, a lanky kid with curls and freckles, fidgets nervously. He looks more scared than any of the 16 other students. “Uh- Um… Mr. B- Bakugou…? Are we gonna do the assessment?”
The kid even sounds terrified. He looks out of place among the confident and bored expression almost everyone else is wearing. Bakugou finally stops pacing and crosses his arms. “Who wants to go first?” No one volunteers. Bakugou grins. He looks down at his list of students. “Takahashi Suki.”
A short, muscular girl with buzzed hair steps forward, a confident grin adorning her face. There’s no cockiness in her eyes, only knowledge of her own skill. Bakugou knows the difference well. Takahashi raises an eyebrow. “My quirk ain’t exactly fit for these tests.”
“Who said we’d be doing a normal assessment?” Bakugou asks. He thought about doing the same physical tests Aizawa had put his class through 26 years ago, but decided against it once he read up on his students’ quirks. “I just want to see what you can do. Use your quirk on me.”
Takahashi chuckles. “I ain’t gonna paralyze my teacher. I don’t feel like getting expelled.”
“You have my full permission. C’mon, kid. Hit me.”
“Fine, but you asked for it.” Takahashi charges forward and slams her hands down on Bakugou’s shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. Bakugou feels every muscle in his body tighten and tense until he falls to the ground, immobile. Panic immediately tries to set in. Being restrained brings back painful memories, but he fights it down, reminding himself that he’s safe.
Bakugou looks up at Takahashi and smirks. “Not bad, kid. Can you release it?”
“Nope. Gotta wait it out.”
“Work on that. Who’s next?”
Hanamori steps forward. “I’ll go.”
Bakugou raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. We’ll save you for last.”
The tension returns as Hanamori scowls. He steps forward, despite Bakugou’s words, and reaches a hand out. A smoke-like substance rises from his own shadow, curling around his outstretched hand. The smoke darkens as it elongates into the form of a sword. Hanamori wraps his fingers around the hilt and the smoke solidifies. “Don’t you even think about underestimating me, Ground Zero. There’s a reason I’m the top student in this class. I’m better than all of these losers.”
“If I wasn’t paralyzed right now, I’d kick your ass,” Bakugou says calmly.
Takahashi raises her hand. “I’ll gladly do the ass-kicking for you!” She smacks Hanamori upside the head. “What the hell have I told you about this kind of stuff? Stop being a jackass and apologize to Mr. Bakugou.”
The paralysis quickly wears off as Takahashi focuses her attention on chewing out Hanamori. Bakugou stands up, rolling his shoulders. He grabs Hanamori by the shirt and scowls. “Listen here, idiot. I ain’t putting up with your shit. You’re not in middle school anymore and this isn’t a normal high school. As far as I’m concerned, you need to grow the fuck up. No petty bullshit. You are equals with your classmates. None of you are better than the rest. You’re all weak and unqualified. You’re base level. You’re not a fucking hero yet, kid. And if you keep this attitude up, I’ll expel you in a fucking heartbeat.”
Hanamori’s eyes widen infinitesimally, fear hiding behind his cockiness. “Get your hands off me.”
Bakugou releases his grip and takes a step back. “Let’s get back to the assessment. Hanamori, I want you to watch carefully.”
-
The rest of the students demonstrate their quirks on or around Bakugou. He’s surprised by their amount of skill and technique. He’s not surprised to see Hanamori visibly deflate at the sight of two light-based quirks. As they file back into the classroom, he decides to do something he hadn’t planned. “Alright… If anyone’s got any questions about me, ask away.”
The nervous student from earlier immediately raises his hand. Bakugou glances down at his roster to find the student’s name. “What’s your question, Miyano?”
Miyano stands up, grinning excitedly. “What’s it like being married to Red Riot?”
Bakugou fights back a chuckle. “Right to the personal shit, huh? Being married to Riot is like being married to the goddamn sun. What else?”
“Is Riot living on campus with you?” Miyano asks.
“Maybe.”
“Is his hair naturally red?”
“No.”
“Three years ago, when he was fighting that escaped convict, what was-”
Bakugou cuts Miyano off with a glare. “Kid, I said you could ask about me. You can fanboy over my husband on your own time.”
The bell rings and everyone starts getting ready to leave. Bakugou slumps in his chair the second the last student files out. All of his energy and confidence is gone. A million thoughts are bouncing around in his head. ‘You aren’t good at this. You’re gonna let these kids down. Hanamori is doomed with you as his teacher. Eijirou would be so much better at this. You should’ve said no. You’re gonna disappoint Aizawa. You’re gonna disappoint everyone.’
He’s torn from his thoughts by a knock on the door and the sight of familiar red hair pulled into a ponytail.
Kirishima smiles softly. “You’re thinking too loud, babe. Bad first day?”
Bakugou groans and lets his head fall against the desk. “I have a student… He reminds me of myself. He’s an asshole who thinks he’s the shit. I tried knocking him down a peg, but I don’t think it worked. These kids are fuckin doomed, Red.”
“Babe! You have a Bakugou!” Kirishima - that bastard - fucking cackles. “Oh, Aizawa will love this!”
“Shut up!”
Kirishima walks fully into the room and runs his hands through Bakugou’s hair. “Do you like your students, at least? The ones that aren’t like you?”
Bakugou looks up, eyebrow raised. “They’re a bunch of fuckin idiots that don’t have a clue what they’re doing,” he scoffs.
The expression that crosses Kirishima’s face is one Bakugou knows well. That look means he’s been seen. Kirishima has a way of seeing right through his husband’s lies and facades. “Sure,” he says. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“I don’t like them, dumbass. I can’t stand them. They’re hopeless little monsters.”
Kirishima smirks. “I’m sure they’ll grow on you. C’mon. I made dinner.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes. “If you burnt one of my good pans again, I’ll kill you.”