Chapter Text
“Well, this is nostalgic,” Bakugou muttered, staring across the desk towards his daughter’s principal. The principal was willowy with a severe expression and was old enough to be his grandmother.
Bakugou was standing behind the chair where his nine-year-old daughter had been sat, kicking her dangling feet, and attempted to not let his expression fall into a flat glare. He knew he was failing.
To her credit, the severe looking principal, Watanabe-san, didn’t even blink, “thank you both for coming on such short notice. I know that you are both busy.” She addressed him directly, then nodded to the other parent - Midoriya.
Bakugou hadn’t seen Midoriya since their graduation from UA twelve years prior. He hadn’t held a conversation with him since middle school that wasn't screamed across an arena. And the asshole had rocketed to number one hero and popped out his own spawn. The kid was sitting in the other chair with a tight scowl and looked nothing like his towering hero dad. Midoriya had the nerve to look politely confused about his own presence here.
Fucking peachy.
Principal Watanabe was speaking again in a level, no-nonsense tone, “there have been some circumstances that have exceeded the normal purview of the school yard teacher, and therefore I wish to have your help with this complicated matter.”
Bakugou frowned harder and bit back a curse, “there’s nothing complicated about this. That kid,” he jerked his chin at the surly boy, “has been bullying Hiro-chan since he started here a few months ago,” he felt his temper rise, but kept his teeth gritted, “and their teacher hasn’t done squat until the little -”
“ Sir ,” the principal interrupted sharply.
Bakugou fell silent, frustration simmering. He laid a hand on his daughter’s head in comfort; her soft pale blonde hair had fallen out of it’s tiny bunches and was hovering in unruly whisps around her head. He cast a glance at Midoriya - the idiot had his arms crossed, but his open expression still looked confused. Useless.
Principal Watanabe continued firmly, “I wanted to give the students an opportunity to explain their perspectives. Daiki-kun?”
Daiki-kun wasn’t looking at anyone, his little mouth pressed in a thin line. After no-one filled the silence, he just slumped further into the chair and shrugged.
After another pause, Principal Watanabe glanced up at Midoriya, but he just quietly shook his head with a little frown of concentration. She turned back to Bakugou as though the little display of rebellion hadn’t happened and asked seriously, “and your side, Hiro-chan?”
“He pushed me!” the words burst out of her little body as though they had been waiting since the beginning of the conversation to come out. She clutched her scraped up knees and earnestly leaned forward, “I was getting my bag and my out-door shoes because it was time to go home and I wasn’t even in his way!” She declared, “his shoe locker isn’t near mine! He’s pushed me before, and I didn’t! Do anything wrong!” She insisted, and twisted in her seat to look up at her father, “I didn’t !”
Bakugou nodded down at her and pet her wild hair out of her face. He didn’t say anything, because the only words were going to be far too strong for an eight year old boy. He liked to think that he’d learned some conflict resolution skills while working in the hero profession, even if it was just learning when to keep his fat mouth shut.
“And then he kicked my hello kitty lunch box!” Hiro-chan declared to her principal, sounding indignant and a bit sad.
“I didn’t ,” the kid finally spoke up for himself and shouted back at her, “that was an accident!”
“Was not!” Hiro-chan spat at him, her cheeks red and eyes watery in indignation, “you’ve been teasing me for it for weeks .”
Daiki-kun’s face was just as red, “I-!”
“Daiki,” Midoriya interrupted softly, firmly.
His son clamped his mouth shut and flopped back in his chair.
Midoriya turned an earnest, serious gaze first upon Watanabe-san, then Bakugou, “I sincerely apologize for Daiki’s actions. I was not aware of the severity of his behaviour until today.”
Bakugou held those green eyes, searching, then took in a measured, slow breath. He turned back to Watanabe-san, “we should talk without the kids here.”
The principal cast a questioning glance at Midoriya, “what would you prefer?”
Midoriya looked a bit lost in thought, arms crossed over his barrel chest, but he nodded, “I agree.”
They waited as the principal arranged for one of the teachers to step in and take both children away to the teacher’s prep room for them to wait.
“So?” Midoriya addressed Bakugou, his mouth in a friendly smile and eyes hardened for a fight.
Bakugou held those eyes for another slow, measured breath. Then he addressed Principal Watanabe, with as level a voice as he could muster, “I don’t care about an apology. I want to know that something will change. She is not coming home crying about getting pushed around, or teased anymore. This incident will be put on record, and their teachers will be made aware of the issue. She will not be required to put up with this behavior for one more day. I don't care what it takes - if we have to move classes, or what. It is your responsibility to ensure the safety of every student at this school. No matter who they are, ” he let a bit of his simmering anger leak back into his voice when he turned back to Midoriya and jabbed a finger at him, “and it is your fucking job to deal with his behaviour . Figure it out, asshole.”
And with that, Bakugou realized that if he stayed in that room for one more second, he would probably break the chair that was already beginning to creak in warning under his hand. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room. He didn’t give a rat’s ass that this was probably exactly what Midoriya expected from him. That they probably expected him to shout and threaten, and do worse. That he would live up to his media persona. But this was a different kind of anger than the sharp, battle adrenaline fueled outbursts - this was one that had been burning for weeks.
His blood was thundering through the machine engine of his heart and he was fourteen years old again with the same riled anger at guileless green eyes. That little idiot had always been able to see right into him and pull the nastiest part of his self-conscious ego to the front.
As if Midoriya didn’t know what his son was doing. How could he not , when Bakugou had been reassuring his own kid that there was nothing wrong with her every night. Just because a little, cruel boy had been doing his damndest to convince her that she wasn't safe at her own school.
He had to wipe her tears more nights than not, and convince her in the morning to go back to school. Every morning he dropped her off, he hoped that this would be a day where she came home cheerful and curious about what they’d learned that day, not crushed and lonely. He felt so torn up sending her back to a place that was so hurtful - but apparently he had to trust some stupid teacher who didn’t seem to care about a blonde little smartass. He had nearly punched the teacher who had called her that at their last school. She hadn't told him about one single friend that year since transferring to this school - just about her bully, Kobayashi-kun.
How could Bakugou have guessed that this kid, who was digging a pit in Hiro's self-esteem every day, was Midoriya's - and how ironic that it was Midoriya's kid. Bakugou refused to examine that particular tangle too closely.
He had been so careful to teach Hiro about respect and how to funnel her anger into sports. How she couldn't use her quirk in schoolyard arguments. How to not make the mistakes he did. And it didn't even matter, because after all that work, someone else was going to bully her, and he couldn't even protect his own daughter in her day-to-day life.
After a few minutes striding through the halls and fuming, Bakugou felt that he’d let off enough steam to actually hold a civil conversation again. He turned the corner back towards the principal’s office and spotted Watanabe-san closing up her office. Midoriya wasn’t anywhere in sight.
She looked up and had the good graces for her expression not to waver from the same serious lines, “Bakugou-san,” she nodded, “I will schedule a meeting with yourself and Hiro-chan’s homeroom teacher to go over the plan that will be put in place around Daiki-kun’s behaviour. I want to personally assure you that we take this kind of bullying very seriously.”
Bakugou didn’t cross his arms, but couldn’t help his gruff tone, “thank you.”
She nodded placidly at him and gestured down the hall, “Nagano-sensei has the children down the hall. I look forward to working with you on this in future.”
Bakugou nodded, hoped it came across as polite since he didn't really want to move Hiro to a third school in one year.
The teacher's lounge wasn't far, and Hiro was waiting outside with the teacher. She was staring stubbornly at her shoes and clutching her little pink backpack in her arms. The teacher, to her credit, was trying to chat with the little girl and cheer her up, but Bakugou knew the shape of this sort of sulk - it was a miracle that she hadn't exploded already.
"C'mon pipsqueak," Bakugou called out to her, "you got everything?"
Hiro stomped towards him, heading down the hall towards the front doors.
The teacher called out with a wave, "bye-bye Hiro-chan."
Hiro turned and frowned magnificently, " bye Nagano-sensei. Come on dad!" And she marched off.
Nagano-sensei, who was used to the moods of kids, just smiled sunnily and waved after them.
---
The walk home was not terribly long - Bakugou had lucked out with finding a school so close his apartment. He'd had to use his name as a pro hero to get Hiro enrolled after the start of normal term activities, but it had been worth it to get her away from the awful environment at her last school. Or so he'd thought.
Bakugou hitched the tiny pink backpack higher on his broad shoulder and followed his daughter down the sidewalk. She was now kicking little stones out into the street, but she wasn't shouting, so he left her to it.
He pulled out his cell and texted Kirishima. They'd had plans for him to come over for dinner as they did every Friday.
>> bad day @ school. B ready
>> awww poor sunshine
>> ill bring the fun!!
And then a few minutes later:
>> u ok bro?
Bakugou let out a little snort.
>> im fine
He wasn't the one getting pushed around every day.
Their apartment wasn't much further up the road. Bakugou's mom complained that they lived too far from her, and that they must be cramped in just a little apartment instead of a fully detached house. But Bakugou liked this apartment - it was the apartment he'd had since before Hiro came to live with him so it really felt like home. He liked that there was extra security around day and night, and that his agency had vetted the building owners as well as the security company. He'd learned the hard way that being a public pro hero painted a giant fucking target on your back. Besides, Hiro had friends on their floor. So what if it wasn't like his childhood - they went to stay with his parents every summer anyway so that Hiro could enjoy the countryside.
Hiro stomped inside the apartment, straight past their coat rack and kitchenette to flop face-down on the sofa and scream muffled words into the cushions.
Bakugou remembered what that felt like, so he let her continue while he kicked off his trainers and hung up her little backpack on the coat rack.
She stopped screaming and was huffing angrily. She weakly jabbed a little fist into one of the green throw pillows.
He sat on the other end of the couch and pinched one of her socked toes to wiggle her foot, "you done?"
She just let out another screech into the cushion.
"Hey," he wiggled her foot again, teasingly, "come up here."
She huffed sharply, then sat up. While wiping her messy hair out of her red and splotchy face, she shuffled over on her knees towards him. Her frown was tremendous and looked exactly like an expression he would wear, "why?"
Bakugou lifted one arm so that she could thud herself down against his side and teased, "why not? Do I need a reason to look at the cutest sweetpea in the world?"
"Daaad," she complained, but she snuggled into his side and under his arm.
"Hiiiro-chaaan," he mimicked her tone and rocked them both. Even though he had thoughts flying around begging to be let out, he just let them sit in silence. He'd been through this blow-up enough times to know that he couldn't guess what was bothering his daughter. And running his mouth didn't help her anyway.
After a moment of silence just sitting there together, Hiro quietly said, "I think I should get a new backpack."
That wasn't what he was expecting, so he just said, "ok, what kind do you want?"
Hiro was quiet for a bit and then said even quieter, like the words were painful, "whatever kind boys use. I want a boy backpack."
A lead weight pressed on his throat. He wished that he could see her face. She was so quiet that he could hardly hear her. "We can do that, but I thought you liked your sanrio backpack? Granny bought it just for you."
"But if I have a boy backpack then I'll be a boy again. And boys don't get teased," Hiro said factually, picking at a scab on her arm, "and if I go back to being a boy, they won't think I'm weird anymore."
"Hmm," Bakugou gently rocked them some more to buy some time. He could feel the anger buzzing in his ears. Finally, he managed to say evenly, "who's been tellin' you that?"
She gave a big jerky shrug.
"It's a teacher?" He asked.
"Nuh-uh," she sighed, "no one said . They just think I'm weird an'..." she continued sharply, "I'm not stupid."
"Definitely not that," he muttered and grunted when she ground her sharp elbow into his stomach.
"Daaad," she complained, "I'm serious!"
"So'm I," he grimaced, "look, you can be whoever you want. If it's a boy again, that's ok. But only if you want. Not if I want, not if the teachers want, not if anyone else wants. Just you."
"Really?" She asked. She always asked.
And he always said, "yes, really. Those are the rules. That's just how it is, and if people don't play by the rules, then don't let 'em play with you ok?"
"Hmmm," she still sounded unsure.
"Look," he pressed a wet, loud kiss to the crown of her hair, "you get to be whatever you want. The bad guys who say you can't don't get to decide. Everything is gonna be ok. Know why?"
She giggled, "because you're here?"
"Yep," he tickled her side and she squirmed with loud laughter, "because I'm here."
She wiggled away and shrieked, "you're really cheesy, daddy!"
Kirishima's voice called from their entrance hall, "do I hear a damsel in distress?"
She shrieked again when Bakugou swooped her up in his arms and blew a raspberry on her tummy, "you can't escape!"
"Uncle Kiri!" She cried out, laughing so hard she started hiccuping, "help meee!"
Kirishima came thundering into the living room with a dramatic gasp. He leveled a finger at Bakugou and declared, "ogre! I will defeat you!"
Bakugou dodged the fake punch aimed at his head and pretended to drop Hiro on the couch. He caught her at the last second, "whoa! Oh no! A hero!"
She was giggling again and cheered Kirishima's name.
"Let her gooo!" Kirishima swung a karate chop at Bakugou's back.
Bakugou finally let Hiro drop on the couch cushions and slumped on the floor moaning, "nooo…. I am... defeated!"
Kirishima leant over his limp form and picked up Hiro to swing her around in a hug asking, "how's my princess today?"
Hiro was still laughing too hard to reply. She clutched at Kirishima's neck and shrieked playfully as he spun them around a second time.
Bakugou wiggled away from the happy pair and stepped into the kitchen.
"What's for eatin'?" Kirishima trotted after him, Hiro held easily in a piggy back. She was small for her age, but she looked absolutely tiny next to Kirishima.
"Yeah!" Hiro parroted, "what's for eatin'?"
"Vegetables," Bakugou declared, tugging the fridge open, "we're having big tasty salads ."
"Nooo!" Hiro cried, "I want spicy tofu! And fish!"
"Okay," Bakugou pulled out some bottles from the fridge, "whatever her majesty requests."
"She's definitely your kid," Kirishima winced at the hot sauce bottle Bakugou thumped against the counter.
"Course I am!" Hiro shouted in his ear, "where else would I come from."
Kirishima laughed and declared, "a dew drop because you're so refined and delicate!"
Bakugou let out a snort and set to work.
----
After dinner was enjoyed, and the dishes cleared away, they watched cartoons until Hiro was nodding off at the kotatsu. She protested when Bakugou said that she should go to bed, and begged Kirishima to read her a story like she was much younger.
When Bakugou offered to tuck her in and give Kirishima a break, she said factually, "Uncle Kiri does the voices better."
So, spurned by his own spawn, Bakugou left them to it and stuck his head into the fridge, looking for beer for Kirishima and himself.
After another inane episode of cartoons that Bakugou could barely follow, Kirishima joined Bakugou in the livingroom. He popped the beer can open and took a hearty chug.
"Bad day on patrol?" Bakugou asked as he muted the tv.
Kirishima shrugged, "just boring. Tell me about what happened?"
Bakugou picked at a sparkly sticker that had fused with the table top, "she's still getting bullied. Ended up getting called to meet with the principal and the other kid's parent."
Kirishima grimaced, "shitty afternoon. They going to do anything about it?"
Bakugou shrugged, "apparently. And it turns out," he took a large mouthful of beer - he needed it, "the other kid is Deku's. And no,"he cut Kirishima off, "I don't want to talk about it."
"Talk about what?" Kirishima asked innocently.
"That," Bakugou pointed at Kirishima, "whatever that look on your face is. I'm not talking about it."
"Who me?"
"I regret the day your single brain cell turned into two and you became capable of higher thought, " Bakugou groused.
Kirishima nodded amicably, "yeah, the kid of your rival, obsession, and high school crush is bullying your kid. I don't see any reason you'd want to talk about it."
"He's not my rival, " Bakugou snapped, "we're in completely separate leagues!"
"Yeah, he's number one," Kirishima's eyes twinkled.
Bakugou cursed quietly. It hadn't stung before - Deku getting to number one and Bakugou down to part-time consulting hours so that he could raise Hiro. It hadn't mattered before, because he'd assumed Deku didn't have a kid or a partner or a life as far as the press knew. Just made himself available at the moment of any crisis. And Bakugou was proud of Hiro and would choose her every time, over and over, but he still wanted…
That wasn't the part he felt stuck in his throat, though, the part he didn't want to voice to Kirishima. And if he didn't want to say it, then the guilt would hold him hostage. So he looked his friend dead in the eye and said, "I used to beat the snot out of that guy."
Kirishima laughed, but it trailed off when he saw that Bakugou was serious.
"In middle school," Bakugou elaborated, "we were in separate classes at UA so I didn't…" He shook his head and sighed, "he used to piss me off so much ."
"I don't get it," Kirishima's eyebrows were furrowed.
"Fuck, what's to get?" Bakugou swallowed down all the excuses, "I was his middle school bully. And now, his kid is beating up on Hiro."
Kirishima let out a low whistle, "that's some karma, dude."
"Fucking tell me about it," Bakugou sighed and ran a hand roughly through his hair.
"Well, at least you've learned to be civilized now," Kirishima grinned over the lip of the can, "in case you have to have another parent-teacher meeting."
Bakugou grimaced and downed the last of his beer, "the way the last time went, I'd kill to never see his face again."