Chapter Text
It was such a small thing really, a passing comment from one mom to another as they chatted in the grocery store next to shelves of dried soba.
“Where is little Katsuki planning on going for Junior high? Is he going through Aldera or is he going to apply for a private school?” Inko Asked.
“The little brat has it in his head that graduating from a ‘Shitty school like Aldera’ is going to be his first step towards being a hero. I swear, if I have to another rant about his ‘hero origin story’ I’m going to lose my mind,” Mitsuki’s scowl smoothed out slightly and she asked, “What about Izuku?”
“Oh, he’s applying to a few different schools in the area, if he gets in to a pricier one I’ll probably go back to working full time. He’s grown up so fast! I’d love to keep him in Aldera and keep him close by, but I think going to a different school could be good for him. He’s… he’s been getting quieter lately. I keep asking if something’s wrong, but you know my baby, always trying to keep everyone else happy even if it-it-tttt-”
Mitsuki suddenly found herself rubbing soothing circles onto her friend’s back and shooting death glares at any shoppers who made the mistake of stopping to gawk at the literal river of tears that had busted out of her the shorter green-haired woman.
“Shhhhh,” She said, making a rather uncomfortable attempt at comforting, “It’s okay Ko-chan, I’m sure if he really needs help he’d come to you. What’d going on?” The question was accompanied by a rather awkward head-pat. No matter how old she gets, she still cries like when we little kids and she’d skinned her knee…
While dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief (one of many she always had on her person, for her and her son) Inko sniffled out, “I think he’s being bullied at school, you know he’s always been a little different, even before we found out he was quirkless, making friends and talking to people about anything other than heroes is hard for him.” A turn, and red eyes met watery green ones. “That’s why I’m so thankful for you and Katsuki, at least he’s got somebody to look out for him when I can’t be there…”
“I can ask my brat if he’s seen anything at school, if I can get him to talk about anything other than himself that is. I’d thought about pulling him from public school for a while, the teachers have puffed up his ego so much and it would probably be good for him to get kicked down a couple pegs by some private school nerds. Izuku’s the only one that seems to be able to give him any competition in grades.”
“Maybe we could talk to them both about private school? If they went to the same one they’d still have a friend, it’d lessen the sting of having to start all over in a new place.”
“I’ll sit the brat down and talk with him soon, we could get together sometime later this week with Masaru and the boys and figure everything out, if that’s okay with you?”
They worked out schedules for a bit, deciding to eat dinner at the Bakugo’s Friday night.
That plan went down the drain almost immediately when the women got home and brought it up to their respective sons. One got twitchy and almost bolted from the room at the mention of a certain blonde firecracker, while the other almost immediately started ranting about, “Shitty DEKU! If that quirkless little freak thinks he’s gonna ruin my origin story I’ll pop his useless head off his neck!” Mitsuki listened to the filth pouring forth from her only child’s mouth, he was only gaining steam the longer he ranted, the phone rang and Mitsuki robotically rose from the couch to answer it. How could he… I thought they were doing alright. Izuku hasn’t been over lately, but it thought it was just because they were getting ready to graduate from elementary… Oh god, what am I going to tell Inko?! Of course he’s being bullied! My little brat… how did I miss this? Oh fuck I’m a terrible mother, a worse friend, how the FUCK did I not notice? Okay, okay, we can fix this, fucking hell, just-
The phone rang, and she jerked out of the scrambling thoughts to realize her phone was buzzing away in her hand. One look at the caller ID and she had mashed the answer button while loosing an unintelligible stream of apologies and promises. The other side was dead silent and she lost steam, waiting for the tell-tale sounds of sniffling.
Instead, she heard a slightly shaky inhale, followed by a very firm voice saying “Mitsuki, we have to talk about our boys.”
Katsuki was dragged, kicking and screaming over to the Midoriya’s house. The threatening glares sent Izuku’s way after he’d been asked if the bruises he came home with were really from playing, and his involuntary flinch and silence in response spoke volumes.
Over the next few hours, the story was slowly dragged out from the kids: The bullying, Izuku standing in front of other kids that Katsuki tried to fight, Katsuki making fun of his quirklessness until the other kids did it too, them all falling in line behind him. The escalation from teasing to crueler taunts about his fanboying, his mumbling, his inability to make eye contact, and all his other little nervous habits and tics. Izuku being told that everything was normal by his teachers, never knowing if standing up to the other boy would make him madder or make him lose interest and drop the perceived slight of the day…
… how Katsuki was pissed a powerless boy would dare look down on him, trying to be a hero without ever training or practicing. The explosive boy truly seemed to hate the other, “Fucking calling me Kac-chan all the time, I’m gonna be the world’s greatest hero! Not some little weak fucker, I don’t need shitty Deku hanging around, always trying help me, like I need any help! Always poking around and asking questions about my damn quirk, looking down on me, saying he’s gonna be a hero and acting like it- like it’s just gonna be easy…”
Inko’s eyes softened a bit the longer that Katsuki talked (well, ranted). Oh…
Mitsuki slumped down, hands cradling her head. Of course, my little egomaniac has an inferiority complex. Great, just great.
Izuku frowned at the floor. He piped up, “Kaccha- Katsuki is gonna be th-the best hero.” Every eye in the room snapped to him, hearing the blonde’s proper name come out of his mouth was just… bizarre. Even Katsuki’s jaw dropped. Izuku’s eyes darted up the scan the room as the silence extended, his eyes dropping as he wrapped himself in his own arms, hugging his knees to his little chest and rocking back and forth in obvious anxiety.
The meeting was adjourned by the tired mothers. Izuku curled up in his favorite heavy quilt (patterned with red, blue, and yellow of course) and watched an old All Might movie he probably knew every word to by now. The mug of tea did nothing to ease the knot that formed in his stomach every time he saw the look on his mother’s face as she paced, researched school bullying policies, made calls to co-workers for therapist recommendations, and set up an appointment with the principal, his teacher, and the school guidance counselor.
Katsuki was increasingly confused by the frustrated lecturing of his mother. Masaru gently put his hand on his shoulder and sent her to go calm down before it escalated into an all-out screaming match. The quiet disappointment that radiated from his father stung so much more than his mom’s loud berating. Mitsuki and Katsuki were all energy and action, the two naturally formed a hurricane by virtue of their personalities, while Masaru was the calm eye in the center of the Bakugo household. Without something to fight, Katsuki deflated, and frustrated tears leaked out as he kept failing to understand what was so wrong.
Izuku began working through his issues under the care of a kind woman, Dr. Nagusame, with dappled purple skin who constantly smelled of lavender. He was diagnosed as having some autism-related features along with general anxiety. They began bi-weekly therapy for building anxiety coping techniques and his mother was given counseling on how to help him manage his various sensitivities. She had already been unknowingly helping quite a bit (buying dozens of shirts with prints like “dress shirt” or “vest” because he had said their fabric had a nice texture) but being able to put a name to his various personality quirks allowed her to be more purposeful with her help and request accommodations from the school. Any fear Izuku had of his mom viewing him differently was quickly washed away by her love and support.
An intimidating man named Dr. Tsurai found unusually high amounts of cortisol and adrenaline in Katsuki’s system after using his quirk to examine his hormonal levels. Apparently, the endless stream of nitroglycerine his body produced had a side effect of putting Katsuki into a near-constant state of fight-or-flight (“Or rather, fight-and-fight,” The doctor had joked). He also worked one on one with Dr. Haraku (after a few sessions Dr. Tsurai had given his first name and said, “We’re spending a lot of time together Sparky, don’t bother with honorifics or surnames.”) to address moderate narcissism and keeping his overall mental health together. Also on the advice of Dr. Haraku, Katsuki took up kickboxing classes in place of the odd self-inflicted workout program the ambitious kid had put together in third grade.
The school was stormed by one very angry Inko Midoriya. The tiny woman projected an aura of bloodlust as she marched through the administration office, the flickering lightbulbs as they rattled in their sockets and clattering office supplies as they inched over desks towards the livid mother heightening the effect.
Two hours later a white-faced principal announced that Izuku was being transferred to the other sixth-grade classroom to finish out the semester and Katsuki’s attitude was to be reigned in by the staff under penalty of swift and harsh legal action. The staff was also treated to the sight of the boy’s former teacher cleaning out his desk while wearing a thousand-yard stare, and the school guidance counselor was spotted returning from the bathroom wiping his sweaty face while looking distinctly green.
The rest of the year was rather uneventful, the other students avoided Midoriya like the plague. He privately thought that even getting teased and tripped was preferable to everyone doing their best to pretend he didn’t exist. Thankfully he was so busy applying to every school that wasn’t Aldera (which most, if not all of his current and past classmates would be attending) and studying for private junior high admissions tests that he didn’t have much time to feel lonely.
Kacchan didn’t talk to him, but on the last day of school, Izuku made eye contact with him from across the hallway. Izuku opened his mouth, then closed it when he realized he didn’t know what to say. Instead, he raised his hand and gave an awkward wave. Kacchan snorted and nodded his head vaguely in Izuku’s direction, before jamming his little hands into his pockets and walking away.