Chapter Text
Nobody is created equal.
Bakugou Katsuki learned this lesson quite early in his life.
He was three when he first actually registered the disgusted looks his mother occasionally threw at him. His parents had brought him to there community park as green-haired auntie invited his mother for a playdate or something. She also had a son of Katsuki’s age who was hiding behind auntie’s legs and looking at Katsuki with wide, sparkling green eyes identical to his mother. For some reason, he reminded Katsuki of veggies he eats. His own mother bends down and softly talked with the veggie boy. That was the first time Katsuki heard her talking in such tone. Katsuki only gets ’brat’ and loud scolding or screeching whenever his mom notices him. He always gets blamed for anything bad occurring in the house. Even if he didn't know what he did. She screams at him, curses at him and Katsuki never talk back.
’Good boys listen to their parents and don't talk back.’
That's what he had learned from the book his father gifted him on his third birthday. Katsuki, to not bother his parents, took upon himself to learn reading and writing as early as he could. He was happy when he got a book because it meant that his parents paid enough attention to notice that he can read and write. That was enough for Katsuki. So he never accused his mother of anything.
But when he saw his mother talking so softly and without cursing, to some strange kid, an ugly feeling clogged in his throat. At that moment, he wanted to question his mother's behaviour. She was never like this at home. Does this veggie kid do something that Katsuki didn't? A strange feeling was dumped on him but he was too young to know what it was(it was helplessness). Suddenly he didn't want to make friends with a veggie kid. Midoriya Izuku, that's what veggie kid was called. He was smaller and way dumber than Katsuki had expected. The more he talked, the uglier the feeling grew. But Katsuki didn't stop him. He simply practised counting 1 to 100 in his mind. Slowly their time came to halt and auntie took Izuku’s hand on her own as they walked to their apartment. Katsuki was walking beside his mother and eyed her unoccupied hand. He had a strong urge to grab it. Maybe his mother would talk softly to him if he did. So he grabbed her hand.
The next moment he was lying on the ground, nursing his stinging cheeks, where his mother backhanded him. She was screaming.
”...disgusting little shit. Always ruining my day. Don't you fucking dare touching me again, you brat...” her words slowly registered in his mind and he came face to face with angry eyes his mom was giving him while his father tried to calm her down.
Something cold settled in Katsuki’s guts that day.
His mom didn't let him in the house that night or gave him dinner. She said it was his punishment for being a bad boy. Katsuki didn't protest.
But late in the night, when he was curled up on cold marble, a little voice in his head said that maybe, just maybe, the book was wrong. He respected his parents. Never opposed them. Did everything the book said a good boy should do. Then why was he cold, hungry and being punished? He was the good boy, wasn't he? Then why his mother looked at him like that? Why doesn't she talk to him like she does with a veggie kid? His mom was supposed to love him right?
Then why she doesn't?
The answer came with his quirk.
It was definitely the better day than the rest of his days when Katsuki got his quirk. He was four and he was happy. It's already more than what he had ever imagined. He vibrated with pure, childish joy as the doctor explained his quirk. Explosion, he said. A strong quirk. A flashy, amazing quirk.
A quirk that would make him a hero.
A hero like All Might.
No.
Better than All Might.
While he experiments with his quirk, he failed to notice the eerie silence that had fallen upon his parents. They got into the car and came back home. Katsuki immediately went back to his bedroom and started reading the quirk manuals. He had to start his training. If he is gonna be hero, he is going to be the best one out there. And that would require practice. Lots and lots of practice. Manual also said something about diet plans but he knew better than demanding new menu from his parents. He would be probably kicked out again. Therefore, he needs to learn cooking. While his mother wouldn't want him anywhere near the kitchen, his parents are away 90% of times. Katsuki usually utilizes money they left him, to get some fruits and snacks. He has a small appetite, so that's a plus. But for a healthy diet, he needs to get his shit together and start being useful.
Katsuki continued his musings and planning, forgetting the dinner. It wasn't after the deep growl from his stomach he noticed the time. It was half-past midnight. His parents must be asleep by now. So he slowly went out of the room and walked towards the kitchen. He would grab an apple for now. But his steps halted when he saw the lamp in the living room on and hushed voices of his parents. He decided to go back to his room, only to stop when his name got mentioned.
”..firstly he has to be a boy and now he got that demon quirk upon that. What I did wrong, Masaru? I wanted a girl and I got a fucking brat. At least hoped that he would get something like my quirk. Maybe would make a decent model. Now nobody would want him to go near the flammable stuff because my unlucky ass got a kid who sweats nitroglycerin. How funny is that? And I can't even have another kid too cause my body can't handle another pregnancy. How unlucky I can get? Is it bad that I blame him? I should not, but it's his fault, right? He came out wrong. Wrong Masaru. I gave you a wrong kid. I...” she continued her rambling. She was drunk. Nothing new in that.
But tears streaming down Katsuki’s cheeks were new.
He didn't know when he started crying. He just knew that his chest was hurting. His ears were ringing. And he dashed to his bedroom as fast as he could. He locked it before his knees gave out. He slid down as pain in his chest got worse and his forehead touched the ground before he broke down into sobs.
He was four and he finally got the answer.
He wasn't a girl.
He didn't have his moms quirk.
He was wrong.
Wrong. Wrong. WRONG!!
He let out a silent scream and everything turned black.