Chapter Text
The clock ticks on the nightstand as the two boys sit in silence on the bed. Nothing has been said for at least ten minutes now. One opens his mouth like he's ready to speak, but almost immediately closes it again with a frown. This doesn't surprise the other.
"Shit," Kirishima finally says, looking up to Bakugou with a slight frown. "I mean, I know you guys were just kids and all, but shit." It's all he can think to say at the moment.
Bakugou scowls, the frustration clear in his eyes as he stands and starts to pace in front of the bed. "I fucking know, already. So what are you gonna do about it?" he asks.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, are you gonna help me or just leave? Cuz I'd fucking get it if you decided to go and never speak to me again."
Kirishima would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it, if only for a brief second. Anybody would, he thinks. This is a lot to process, after all. They all had their suspicions about why Midoriya always seemed so tense around Bakugou, about the hostility that lingers between them, about the scars. But he never imagined this, didn't really let himself imagine this.
Can he really bring himself to stay here, knowing how far Bakugou went when he was a kid? Kirishima can’t look at Bakugou in quite the same way anymore, can’t just ignore what he now knows. But he also can’t ignore the way his friend seems genuinely stressed about the situation, the way he reached out for help, knowing he might be pushed away and already accepting of that fact. Doesn’t that show he’s already putting in an effort to change for the better? And isn’t part of being a hero giving second chances to the people who deserve them and show a genuine desire to become better?
He takes a deep breath and watches Bakugou's pacing for a moment. "It was fucked up, but you want to make it better, right? I can see that you want to change and I'll support you. You gotta be serious about changing and getting better if I’m gonna help you, though. And you really need to work hard to make up for this."
"Can I even? If I were in the nerd's shoes, I wouldn't even fucking look at me. I'd still be angry as fuck, too!"
"Well, then it's a good thing Midoriya isn't you, bro. I can't say he'll ever forgive you or anything, but it sounds like he's willing to give you the chance to atone."
Bakugou growls and sits back on the bed next to Kirishima, holding his head in his hands. “Where the fuck do I even start?” he asks.
“With an apology. Like, a long one, where you say what you did wrong and that you’re feeling remorse and want to make up for it, as well as what you’re going to do so you can make up for it,” Kirishima says.
Bakugou glances over, blinking when he sees him on his phone, scrolling down with a concentrated frown. “Are you reading that off a website?”
Instead of answering right away, Kirishima nods and scoots closer to Bakugou. He angles his phone so the screen is visible. “Yeah! I looked up how to apologize and there was a WikiHow article,” he explains.
“That’s fucking stupid. Who the fuck would need instructions on how to apologize?” Bakugou asks.
Kirishima pauses and looks up from his phone. “....Dude,” he says softly, placing a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder with a sympathetic look. “You.”
He can't deny that Kirishima has a point, but he can be slightly annoyed by it. Bakugou huffs and shrugs off his hand. "Fucking fine. Whatever. What's it say?" he asks.
Kirishima's responding grin is nearly blinding. He looks back at his phone and starts to read off the steps listed.
The office is silent as Aizawa marks grammatical and spelling errors on papers, catching up on the grading that was ignored for almost two weeks. It’s a mundane enough process to make him feel weird after all that happened with the training camp and at Kamino Ward. His students were involved in a major villain attack and now he’s sitting here, underlining “agressive” in red.
He hears the door slide open but doesn’t look up, figuring it’s Cementoss or Midnight coming in to catch up on work as well. It’s weird that they pull out the chair next to him, though, considering that's Hizashi's desk. Aizawa looks up to ask what they want, pausing when he sees Mandalay instead.
The hero looks tired, like she hasn’t gotten enough sleep over the past few days. Really, how many of them have? Still, it looks like everything that’s happened has been weighing on her pretty heavily.
He watches her for a moment, waiting for her to say something. When she doesn’t, he asks, “How’s Kouta doing?”
Mandalay looks over and smiles slightly. “I took him to see a therapist yesterday. Maybe I should have done it before now, but better late than never, I suppose,” she replies. She doesn’t say anything else, looking down at the floor. Her eyes seem to trace the borders of the tiles for a while, her finger tapping against the arm of the chair.
“You’re nervous. Just say what’s on your mind.”
“Did you get the summons, too?”
He figured there was no way of avoiding that. “Yeah. I get the feeling I know what it’s about,” he says, glancing down at the large, manila envelope on his desk. It has his name and U.A.’s address written on the front in red ink, the Hero Commission seal proudly stamped above it. As far as he understands, both Nezu and Toshinori got an envelope as well. “Unnecessary to put it in this, though.”
Mandalay snorts and shakes her head. “Yeah, no shit,” she replies. She’s quiet for a moment. “You really okay with all this? I mean, even you can’t deny that he’s got the odds stacked against him.”
Of course, Aizawa can’t deny that. Any idiot could see the entire world is placing itself in Izuku’s way. That doesn’t exactly mean his problem child is going to let that stop him, though. “I know what he’s capable of, Mandalay. I did train him myself, you know.”
She waves him off, leaning her head back against the chair. “I’m not saying you didn’t do a good job, Eraserhead. I just mean they aren’t going to make this easy for him. Especially after that footage got released from Kamino.”
Right. The footage. God, Aizawa wants to go smack the person who decided to release the footage of Izuku throwing a pebble at All For One. Honestly, what were they thinking by placing that kind of spotlight on a first-year student, much less the problem child himself? While there’s a good amount of public support for Izuku, there’s no denying a sizable percentage of the public is demanding he be removed from the hero course for his own safety.
“What are you going to say?” he finally asks.
Mandalay looks up at him with a tight frown. He already doesn’t like where this is going. “You can’t let him take the exam. It’s too soon for the whole class, but him especially,” she says.
Aizawa frowns, knowing this isn’t something she’s going to change her mind about. “I guess we’ll just have to see,” he replies, his voice harder than before.
He’s not going to budge on this, and he can see the minute Mandalay realizes that. She sighs, leaning forward in the chair. “C’mon, Eraser, it’s not because he’s quirkless or anything like that. He’s just too reckless for this kind of responsibility. You know it, too. That boy is going to go out and get in trouble the moment they place that license in his hand.”
“He’d get in trouble with or without a license. At least he’s less likely to break the law again if he’s got one.”
Mandalay blinks. “Again?” she asks.
Crap. “It’s a long story. One I don’t feel like getting into right now,” he says, pushing himself up from his chair. He grabs his keys and phone from the desk, shoving them into his pockets. “I need to get going. Let me walk you out.”
Mandalay studies him for a moment before nodding. He knows she’s probably going to question him more later, but that’s something he’ll deal with when the time comes.