Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Katsuki slumped into his seat, ignoring the growing chatter of his classmates as they slowly filled the room. It was far too early to be awake, and he’d been up for over an hour already. His vigorous training regimine didn’t allow for late mornings, except on Saturdays. And then he was dead to the world until noon at the earliest.

Jirou sat down. Katsuki half glanced over at her - her eyes were puffy with sleep, her hair a mess on top of her head. Katsuki considered laughing or pointing it out, but everything still hurt and he didn’t really have the energy. She caught him looking anyway, straightening in her chair to glare at him.

“Shut up,” she said. 

“I wasn’t fucking saying anything,” Katsuki said, pulling out his notebooks and a pencil. 

“Yeah, but you were thinking it,” she said. She twisted to reach into her backpack, pulling out a little compact mirror. She stared at her face, lips pressed together. She turned halfway in her chair. “Tooru?”

Hagakure, who Katsuki hadn’t even noticed arrive at her desk, immediately shoved back from her desk. The back of her chair bumped into Katsuki’s table, sending his pencil to the floor. 

“I’m awake!” Hagakure gasped. Katsuki quietly cursed as he leaned over to grab his pencil. All of his muscles pulled and ached as he did so. It was a familiar ache, one he’d been sporting for about as long as he could remember, but it was still an ache. 

“Do you still have that cooling puffy eye thing?” Jirou said as Katsuki sat back up. He slammed the pencil onto his desk. Hagakure was wearing a bow in her hair today, and it tilted in the air.

“No, sorry,” she said, “I finished it last week.” Jirou sighed and slumped back in her chair.

“You think Yaomomo would make me some if I asked?” Jirou said. Katsuki turned his head to stare out the window at the cloudy sky. Walking to the school building had actually been nice this morning. Katsuki had a tendency to run warm and the cool air had been a relief. 

There was a rustle, thump, and a couple of choice curse words from behind Katsuki. He didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who that was. 

“Good morning, Kacchan,” that shitty Deku said, voice soft and still kinda sleepy. The fool was early for once. There was still a couple minutes until class started. Normally he power walked in thirty seconds before the bell rang, Uraraka and the Class Prez cheering him on. “I missed you working out this morning.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Katsuki said automatically. They normally trained together in the mornings - not together together, because Katsuki would rather die than join Deku on his suicide workouts, but in the gym at the same time together. 

Deku gave a little hum of acknowledgement before he shuffled away to join his friends at the other side of the room. Asui looked just as put together as she usually did, Class Prez obviously wide awake. He’d gone on a run earlier before joining Katsuki in the gym for a light workout before class. Uraraka was asleep in her chair, and IcyHot was a no show.

“Bakugou,” Jirou said. He glared at her. “You don’t by any chance have any makeup on you, do you? I’d ask Mina, but I don’t actually think she’s awake right now.”

“And Tsu and Ochako never carry makeup,” Hagakure said with a little sigh, “they’re both the type to only really do light makeup in the morning and then just keep it all day.”

“Ochako only wears blush,” Jirou said, turning in her seat to look over at Uraraka, “and maybe a little bit of mascara and eyeliner. It’s a good look on her, actually. Very cute.” Katsuki kinda agreed with her - for all her fierceness in a fight, fierce makeup didn’t suit her the way it would Ashido or Jirou.

“Why the fuck would I have makeup?” Katsuki spat.

“I dunno, don’t make it weird,” Jirou said, turning back to Katsuki, “do you have any or not?”

Katsuki glared at her for a couple seconds before caving. “I only have concealer and a little blush.”

“Why do you have blush?” Hagakure giggled. Katsuki glared at her, palms popping. She leaned back in her chair, sleeves waving energetically. “No offense! I just wanna know! It’s kinda weird to have, like, only blush and concealer out of an entire face.”

“Do you think your concealer will match me?” Jirou asked, making a half hearted grab at Katsuki’s backpack. Katsuki snatched it up, glaring as he unzipped the front pocket and pulled out his half empty bottle of concealer. Jirou eyed it. “That looks a little light, actually.”

“It’s a little darker on skin than it is in the bottle,” Katsuki said. Jirou hummed and took it. “Why aren’t you using yours?”

“Finished it,” she said, carefully applying a little under her eyes, “haven’t had the chance to go to the store yet. Plus, I left my makeup bag back at the dorms.” She tossed the concealer back to Katsuki as she started blending it out with her fingers. “Are you sure you don’t have, like, lipstick or anything? It feels weird sitting in class without any on.”

If Katsuki had lipstick in his bag, it was gonna be a problem . Ashido was the only person who wore lipstick out of the people who usually surrounded Katsuki and he definitely didn’t feel close enough to her to let her store makeup in his bag. “Go ask Raccoon Eyes if you want makeup so bad.”

Jirou shook her head, “she’s not even-”

“You said my name?” Ashido said, popping up behind Jirou. Jirou yelped, jumping. “Oh, woah! You ok?”

“I thought you were asleep!” Jirou yelped. Ashido grinned and shrugged before turning to Katsuki.

“What’s up, buttercup?” She asked. Katuki gestured at Jirou and turned away from them as they burst into conversation. Hagakure turned around in her chair and leaned towards him. It was, as usual, unsettling to look through her, so Katsuki just turned his head to glare out the window.

“Awfully kind of you to share your concealer,” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice.

“Fuck off, or I’ll burn you alive,” Katsuki told her. She laughed and poked him in his shoulder. Katsuki lunged at her.

She screeched, jerking away from him. Katsuki made a grab for her, explosions filling his hands.

A pair of rock hard arms curled around him and heaved him back. Katsuki twisted, snarling like a feral cat. Kirishima laughed, quirk activating as Katsuki managed to land a hand against his face.

“You’re energetic today, Kacchan,” Dunce Face said, laughed. Katsuki’s eyes snapped to him. “Didn’t you work out already?”

“Dude, what did Hagakure even do?” Kirishima asked as he put Katsuki down. Katsuki shoved at his shoulder half heartedly, still eyeing Kaminari. He’d explode the jerk to bits one of these days. 

“They were talking about makeup,” Kaminari said as Sero dropped his things onto his desk.

“They were?” he said, eyebrows rising. “Didn’t know you knew things about makeup.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Katsuki rounded on him. Sero threw up his hands in surrender.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, “it’s just a little surprising. I mean, I know a little about makeup, but that’s just cuz my mom wanted a daughter.” Kirishima sucked in a breath, stupid sympathetic expression covering his face. Sero laughed a little and shook his head. “Oh, no, don’t take it badly. She knows I’m a boy and she definitely encourages me to do boy things. She just decided that gender norms could go out the window and taught me how to do makeup and dress nicely and stuff. Dad was against it but she divorced him in the end, so.” He shrugged.

“Sorry about the divorce,” Kirishima said, reaching out to drop a hand on Sero’s shoulder. “It must’ve been rough.” Sero smiled at him.

“Thanks man,” he said, “you’re a real bro.” Kirishima grinned, big and wild like it always was when he felt touched.

“No, bro, thank you,” he said.

“No, no, I’m the one who’s thanking you!” Sero said. He pulled Kirishima into a hug.

“No, it’s definitely me thanking you,” Kirishima said, rocking the two of them back and forth. Katsuki rolled his eyes and turned to Kaminari. Kaminari was grinning just as much as either of them.

“By the way,” Jirou said as she leaned back in her chair, conversation with Ashido apparently finished and black lipstick on her lips, “did any of you do the English homework?”

“I did!” Kaminari gasped, throwing a hand into the air like he was answering a question in class. “Do you wanna copy?”

“God, please,” Jirou said as Ashido reappeared at her side, brush in hand. Jirou took it from her with a quiet thanks. 

“Can I have it after?” Shouji, who sat in front of Jirou, said as he turned around. “I forgot we had any.” Katsuki shook his head, annoyed at him. It wouldn’t kill him to keep a planner or something. 

“Sure man,” Kaminari said, “just like, don’t make it obvious, you know?” Shouji nodded.

“See, I was smart and asked to copy it last night,” Ashido said smugly as Kaminari headed over to his desk. Jirou snorted, trying to untangle her hair.

“If you were smart you’d have done it yourself,” Katsuki said. Ashido waved a dismissive hand.

“Not all of us have the work ethic of a god like you and Midoriya do,” Ashido said. 

“Hey, I did it myself!” Kirishima said, pausing in the middle of whatever it was he and Sero had started doing in the absence of Katsuki’s attention. “Or, well, I did it with Sero.”

“And how much of it did you do correctly?” Katsuki said. Kirishima got a shifty look in his eyes - Katsuki snorted. 

“Wow, glad to know my academic suffering brings you so much joy,” Kirishima said dryly.

The door slid open. 

Everyone dived for their seats. Katsuki only had to sit down to be where he was supposed to be, but Deku had to hurl himself through the air, One For All crackling around him, to make it to his seat. Katsuki half turned to watch Deku mouth curses, rubbing at his arm. He must’ve knocked it into something on the flight over. 

Mr. Aizawa had a way of walking into a room that made people take notice. And that was wild and a little inspiring because he could also turn that pressure all the way off. If Mr. Aizawa didn’t want you to notice him, you wouldn’t. Katsuki spun a pencil between his fingers, watching Mr. Aizawa make his way to the podium, exhaustion evident even in the way he held himself.

“Morning,” Mr. Aizawa said. 

“Not a good morning, but a morning,” he’d clarified a couple days after the USJ attack. “And when we’re done I hope you have a day - I don’t care what kind of day, just make sure you have one and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Sentimental bastard.

They were in their second year now and all of their teacher’s idiosyncrasies were just as natural as their own. Katsuki had never been in a class where he could name all the students before, or a class where he could pick up on shifts in attention and mood so quickly. So it was strange to come back after his kidnapping and have Mr. Aizawa’s soft voice feel like a comfort instead of a burden.

Mr. Aizawa didn’t even allow them to go through the motions of being a regular class. He must’ve had a long night.

“You’re second year students,” Mr. Aizawa said without preamble, “which means you have a community service project. It’ll be a joint project with the business course and is worth pretty much your entire grade in my class for this semester. I don’t care what you do for your project, just don’t destroy anything. 

“In the past, classes have built public parks, run food and clothes drives, and other such things. The point here is doing something that’ll benefit people outside of UA while also learning to work with the PR and management that you’ll come into contact with at whichever agency you go to.”

Katsuki frowned down at the notebook he’d gotten out earlier. What the fuck kinda project was this? And how the hell was he supposed to do it? Katsuki had never felt entirely comfortable lying to himself, and he knew just as well as anyone else in the room that he was very much not suited for this kinda work. 

“Yes, Iida?”

“Will this be a solo project or a group project?” Class Prez said, voice loud as always. “And if it’s a group project, what’s the maximum group size?”

“That’s up to you all,” Mr. Aizawa said, “in the past we’ve had students going solo, students working in small groups, and even the class working together as a whole. The only thing that’s off limits is Class 2B. You’re not allowed to work with them. Any other questions?”

Which was also a bad call for Katsuki’s sake. He didn’t think the whole class would get together and work on the project, even though it was doable. Most of them had worked together during the licensing exam. As far as Katsuki knew, everyone but him, Kirishima, and Kaminari had worked together. And if it was small groups - would Kirishima and the others even want to work with him?

They’re my friends, Katsuki reminded himself, they consider me their friend. 

“None? Good. I’ll leave it to your class reps to give me a synopsis of whatever you’re doing by the end of the week,” Mr. Aizawa said, reaching under the podium in an all too familiar gesture, “next Monday, you’ll get to meet with the business course students who will be working with you for the foreseeable future.” He tugged out his sleeping bag and tossed it onto the floor.

“Rest well, Mr. Aizawa!” Ponytail said as she and Iida stood. Mr. Aizawa didn’t respond, just slipped into his sleeping bag and fell asleep within seconds. “Alright everyone,” she continued at a slightly lower but no less commanding tone, “does anyone want to do independent study? Or should we discuss the project?”

There was a general murmur Katsuki didn’t bother to try and understand. He knew what they’d choose.

“Then we will discuss the project!” Iida said, grinning. Katsuki withheld a sigh and braced himself for whatever batshit insane idea his class was gonna come up with.

--

“Bruh,” Kaminari groaned, scrunching up some scratch paper. “For the millionth time, a maid cafe isn’t helping anyone.” 

He tossed it to Katsuki, who set it on fire with a small explosion (it wasn’t even an explosion, it was the barest suggestion of one and was currently the smallest Katsuki could get his explosions to go). Katsuki leaned past Deku as Kirishima stood up and dropped it into Kirishima’s hardened hands. Sero fashioned a bat of tape and a pencil as Kirishima carefully lobbed the fireball into the air. Sero hit the ball directly into Mineta’s hair. Mineta screeched like some sort of banshee and leapt into the air. 

“That is unacceptable behavior!” Iida yelled, to the snickering from most of the class. Mineta desperately patted at his head, trying to make sure it wouldn’t catch him on fire - lucky for him the paper had gone out in midair. Mr. Aizawa was fast asleep through the chaos, which was pretty much what Katsuki expected from him.

“Yeah,” Todoroki said, “you should’ve let me set the paper on fire. It might’ve caught him then.” Sero laughed. There was a strange friendship between the two of them that Katsuki didn’t really understand, but he also didn’t really understand his own relationship with that damn IcyHot so he gave it a pass.

“We don’t have enough girls to run our own maid cafe anyway,” Ponytail said, clearly trying to deescalate the situation. 

“What if we boys dressed up as maids?” Kirishima said, reaching forwards to clamp his hands down on Kaminari’s shoulders. 

“Ooh, we’d look so hot in dresses,” Kaminari gasped. He turned around and grabbed Kirishima’s hands.

“Can we move away from maids?” Tokoyami said, the room darkening somewhat. He’d let Dark Shadow out to rove around the classroom. Currently the shadow demon bird was resting on Katsuki’s desk, attempting puppy dog eyes at him. Katsuki had no idea what they wanted but there was no way he was going to ask.

“We could do, like, individual things?” Uraraka said. 

“Maybe it’s a little sentimental of me,” Iida said, “but I would rather us do this as a class. We’re better together.” Katsuki nudged at Dark Shadow. They pouted at him, but slid off his desk. 

“Aww, Iida!” Uraraka coed as Iida blushed. The shitty nerd was mumbling something behind Katsuki. Katsuki ignored him and watched Dark Shadow circle the room once before ending up at the sparkly bitch’s desk. Aoyama beamed at them, immediately embracing the demon bird.

“I, for one, would like to know what you were about to suggest, Ochako,” Ponytail said. Uraraka straightened in her chair. 

“Right!” She said. “I meant like. . . why don’t we all find something we want to contribute to and raise money for that thing? For example, I could raise money for low income families who need help affording tuition or food or clothes. And Iida, you could raise money for disabled people who need the extra support.”

What would Katsuki raise money for? He didn’t really feel passionate about any social issue.

“That is a pretty good idea,” Iida conceded, “but I do want to work together as a class, if that’s ok with everyone.”

And how were they gonna raise money in the first place? Katsuki supposed that was what the business students were going to help with. Sure they had resources in their class - Ponytail, Iida, and IcyHot were rich as fuck and it wasn’t like Katsuki didn’t have connections in the fashion industry through his parents - but business students were the ones who would have to pull everything together in the end. 

“What if we don’t really have something we’re passionate about?” Kaminari said, turning to Uraraka. She hesitated.

“I guess then you could pair up with someone who does have a subject in mind,” Yaoyorozu suggested, tugging at her hair. She was very clearly trying not to stare too hard at Jirou, who was also trying very hard not to make eye contact with Ponytail.

“The class,” Iida said quietly as they descended into their standard disorganized clamour as everyone tried to shout out something at once. 

Deku leaned forwards to poke Katsuki’s arm. “What about merch?” Katsuki blinked at him. “For raising money - you were wondering about it too, right?”

“The fuck would we even sell?” Katsuki said, turning to him.

“Clothes, maybe,” Deku said, “you could probably get us a manufacturer, right? And I can draw decently, thanks to my hero analysis notebooks, so we could probably also make keychains and things.” It wasn’t a bad idea. 

Katsuki stood, palms popping loudly. The class fell silent. “The shitty nerd’s got an idea,” was all Katsuki said before he sat down again. 

“Oh!” Deku said, startled. “I - oh, ok. So. Uh, so, I thought that maybe we should launch merchandise lines. Many heroes have them so that the fans can feel like they’re supporting their favorite heroes. And most of All Might’s merch actually donates all the revenue to various charities and such.”

“Ooh,” Kirishima broke the quiet. “That sounds pretty cool actually!”

“I thought you were going to say something super nerdy,” Ashido said, making Deku blush, “but that’s pretty smart.”

“How could we make that a classwide project, though? It sounds pretty individualistic,” Yaoyorozu said. Katsuki braced himself.

“My parents work in the fashion industry,” he said, “if we all design a couple outfits, I could get them to a manufacturer. We could do a Class 2A clothing line and have a percentage of each heroes items go to a specific charity.”

“Ooh, Bakubro coming in clutch,” Kaminari said, grinning.

“Don’t call me that!” Katsuki yelled, palms exploding.

“Will there be restrictions on the designs?” The quiet animal dude who’s name always escaped Katsuki - Kouda? - said. “Like if I made mine all animal related, would that be ok?” Katsuki shrugged. 

“Do what you want,” Katsuki said, settling back into his seat, palms smoking a little. The bell rang, startling Mr. Aizawa awake.

“We’ll continue this discussion in the dorms later,” Iida said as Mr. Aizawa clambered out of his sleeping bag. “Make sure you think about it throughout the day!” Mr. Aizawa glanced out over the kids.

“Why is Mineta crying.” Mr. Aizawa said blandly, silencing the class. Katsuki turned around - Mineta was indeed crying, but very quietly. They looked less like painful tears and more like annoyed tears. Katsuki turned around to find Mr. Aizawa looking directly at him. “Want to explain, Bakugou?”

“Why the fuck do you think it’s me?” Katsuki said incredulously. Mr. Aizawa pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“You always seem to be at ground zero with these kinds of things,” Mr. Aizawa said with a heavy sigh, “you and Midoriya. Speaking of Midoriya, you go take Mineta to Recovery Girl.”

“Yes, sir,” Deku said, standing up and turning to Mineta, kind smile fixed to his face.

“Bakugou?” Mr. Aizawa prompted as the two left the room.

“Look,” Katsuki said, “I didn’t do anything. None of us did anything. Nothing happened, no one’s hurt, that bastard’s just a fucking wimp who couldn’t handle being shot down during a discussion.” Sero snorted. Katsuki resisted the urge to break eye contact with Mr. Aizawa to glare at him. “It’s fine.” Mr. Aizawa could look right through a person when he tried and he was definitely trying right now. 

He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by none other than Present Mic, coming through the doorway already speaking at top volume. Mr. Aizawa slunk out of the room before the blonde could say more than a, “GOOD MORNING SHOU!”

“Fuck,” Jirou whispered, turning to Katsuki, “I didn’t finish copying.”

“Better get writing then,” Katsuki murmured back, grabbing his pencil with a grin.

--

Katsuki sat on the back porch of Heights Alliance, staring out into the night. It was late - most of the class was trickling back into the common rooms after doing their homework and individual training. Or naps. Katsuki knew that Kaminari preferred to nap after classes and then do his homework later during the night. Ashido and Tokoyami often joined him in that practice. Katsuki was sure there were others, but he didn’t go out of his way to monitor them.

He only knew about those three because Kaminari and Ashido had been talking about it during lunch one day. He hadn’t had much to say during that conversation. Everyone knew he slept at 8ish every day.

Katsuki was waiting for his parents to call him. He never called them - they were often busy, even at home. They knew he’d be waiting for their call. It was easier if they called him while he waited than if he called them while they were trying to work.

Unfortunately, it meant he had a lot of time to sit and think. 

Sometimes he’d train while he waited, but today wasn’t one of those days. He had to be here for when the discussion in the common room started. If he was in the gym, he might miss something important. Plus, he wanted to ask his parents about that manufacturer, just in case the rest of the class wanted to go with the merch line.

It was such a Deku thing to come up with, hero merch. He had so much of it himself, he’d probably thought of it the second the project was mentioned. 

Deku was the type of kid to buy the merch of everyone else in the class, Katsuki figured. His mom would buy all the Deku merch, and Deku’d buy the rest of Class 2A’s merch. Inko Auntie loved Deku way, way too much. But it was nice to see, the few times he’d been in her presence. His mom was nowhere near that amount of touchy feely. His dad was a little less guarded than she was, but even then.

The door to the porch pushed open. Katsuki looked up to see Kirishima’s familiar head of hair. He’d left it mostly down, aside from two spikes that kinda resembled Ashido’s horns. Kirishima grinned at him.

“Still waiting on your parents?” He asked. Katsuki nodded. “Man, they’re taking forever tonight.”

“It’s whatever,” Katsuki said. Kirishima nodded and stepped out onto the porch, heading over to the bench Katsuki was sitting on. “The fuck do you want?” 

Kirishima flopped down besides him. He fearlessly dropped his head on Katsuki’s shoulder - Katsuki didn’t have the strength to shove him off. 

“Just wanted to let you know that the common room’s filling up,” Kirishima said, “we’re just missing a few people before the meeting starts.” Katsuki shrugged. Kirishima nudged him with a careful elbow. “If they keep you waiting much longer, you’re gonna have to push back your bedtime.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki immediately snapped, baring his teeth. Kirishima straightened and bared his own right back, confident in the knowledge that his teeth were infinitely more threatening than Katsuki’s ever could be, the fucking shark .

“No, I don’t think I will,” Kirishima said, laughing, but he stood up anyway. “Want me to stay out here?”

“Do whatever the hell you want,” Katsuki said. Kirishima kicked him lightly in the leg.

“Alright, I’m going in then,” he said, “I’ll come out and get you when we start.” Katsuki waved dismissively in his general direction. The sound of laughter and easy chatting flowed out into the cold air as Kirishima opened the door. He was invited back in with shouts of his name. Katsuki glanced over his shoulder to see Kaminari throw an arm around Kirishima and direct him towards one of the mostly full couches.

Katsuki never got that kind of welcome. He didn’t really want it. But he was kinda envious of how Kirishima easily flopped down across the laps of the people on the couch. Just a little envious. Not like a lot.

Not a single one of them was mad at him for doing it. Yeah, Mineta yelled and scrambled out from under Kirshima’s chest, but he was tiny and it could be put up to him getting squashed. Mineta sulked off to an unoccupied armchair as Ashido dropped her hands into Kirishima’s hair. She tugged at two little spikes, laughing as Kirishima batted her hands away.

Katsuki wanted in on that cuddle pile, to be honest. If he went in now, though, he doubted anyone would be willing, though. He was an asshole.

Kirishima was lucky. Everyone liked him. 

Katsuki sighed and turned away from the window. The moonlight wasn’t strong tonight. It lit up the grass a little, but not very well. And it was kinda foggy. Visibility was crap. If he went in now, he could escape the chilly slight breeze. He could listen to the laughter he had seen in his classmates’ faces, even if he wouldn’t take part in it.

His phone buzzed.

Katsuki picked up without looking at the caller ID. “Fucking finally.”

“Oi, treat me with a little respect!” Mom shouted. Some of the tension leaked from Katsuki relaxed at the sound of her voice. Even if it had only been a week since he’d last heard it, it was a relief. “I’m a busy woman, you brat!”

“Hey, Katsuki,” his dad said, voice softer but just as loud to be heard over his mother’s fuming.

“Hi, Dad,” Katsuki said, grinning. His mother let out a frustrated noise.

“Excuse me? I didn’t fucking raise you with my own two hands for you to love your father more than me,” she said, “what the fuck is this shit?”

“It’s your own damn fault,” Katsuki said firmly, staring out into the fog. It kinda reminded him of the night he was kidnapped. It’d been foggy then too. He knew now that it was because of that kid’s quirk. He shivered, some of the tension returning to his body.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Please, Mitsuki,” his dad’s voice was quieter as he presumably turned to Mom, “do we have to have this argument every week?”

“Yes!” She said. Katsuki bit back a laugh to respond. He was sure his voice was wavering under the strain.

“I mean, we don’t have to,” Katsuki said, “Mom’s just gotta accept that I love you more and-”

“Katsuki Bakugou!” 

“Don’t encourage this,” Dad said, but he was laughing. Katsuki had gotten his laugh from his dad, loud and more snorting than actual laughter. His mom laughed high pitched and breathy, whenever you could startle it out of her. Katsuki usually sounded like he was gasping for breath when he laughed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki said, “the fuck are you two calling for?” They called him every Monday evening, he knew exactly why they were calling. But still. He wasn’t about to get all lovey dovey just ‘cuz he hadn’t seen his parents in a month or two.

“How’re you?” Dad asked. Katsuki shrugged, knowing full well they couldn’t see the motion.

“I’m fine,” he said. His mother snorted.

“Of course you’re fine,” she said, “you’re my son.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “We’re fine too, thanks for asking.”

“You’re welcome,” Katsuki snarked. His mother let out a wordless shout.

“How’s school?” Dad said when she’d quieted. “ How’re uh, Kirishima and - and Kami. . . Kaminari?”

“And Ashido?!”

“I’m sure you’ve mentioned a Zero, once, too,” Dad said.

“And Izuku! How’s he?” Mom sighed. “I’m just asking to be polite, Inko always tells me everything when I run into her at the store anyway. You don’t have to say anything about Izuku if you don’t want to.”

“They’re all fine,” Katsuki said, “and Deku’s every bit as annoying as he always is.”

“That’s good,” Dad said, “though I wish you’d stop calling him that.”

“It’s his hero name,” Katsuki said, “the fuck else am I supposed to call the fucking nerd?” He heaved himself up and off the porch with a quick glance behind him. It looked like everyone was there. Deku was watching him. Katsuki glared.

Hurry up, Deku mouthed.

Katsuki flipped him off and walked over to the edge of the porch so he could stare dramatically away from the building.

“Anyway, I have a favor to ask,” Katsuki said. His dad hummed.

“That’s a surprise,” Mom said, “I thought for sure you’d forget about your poor old parents the second you left the house.” Katsuki rolled his eyes.

“What do you need, Katsuki?” Dad asked. Katsuki took comfort in the warmth in his voice. His mother could never. 

“My class is doing a project,” he said, “and we might end up doing some sort of merch line. If we do clothes, could you maybe find someone who’ll help us out?”

“Oh,” Mom said. There was a second of silence from the phone before his mother spoke again. “Your dad’s thinking. What’s the merch line for? Is it just like practice?”

“It’s for a community service project with the business course kids,” Katsuki said, “going off our discussion during class this morning, we might create a merch line for most if not all of Class 2A. The proceeds will go to charities. We’re about to discuss it further.” His mother hummed.

“That’s really sweet of you kids,” she said, her voice finally losing its grating edge. Katsuki smiled, but let out a disbelieving huff. “No, I’m serious, that’s really sweet.”

“I can think of a few people who’d want to be in on it,” Dad said, “it’s only a matter of getting into contact with them - I’ll send you their contacts. I’ll add a description of who does what, like who’s in advertising, who’s more likely to invest to help get it started, things like that.” Katsuki gasped.

“Investors?!” 

“Yeah, you’re gonna need them, kid,” Dad said with a little laugh. “You can’t just start from scrap, and I dunno if UA will fund any of this or if you all are on your own. I don’t like the idea of you guys being in debt before even being in college, so investors will help. You said you’re doing this with the business course - they’ll be able to help more with this aspect.”

“ I can send you guys the numbers of some of my friends,” Mom said, “I’m sure they’ll be happy to model for you guys if you do end up going with clothes. I’ll talk to our photography team about taking pics for you guys too.”

“Shit,” Katsuki said quietly, suddenly choked up, “that’s. . .”

“I give you a lot of shit,” Mom said, “but I genuinely want to see you succeed, even if it’s just some stupid school project. My resources are your resources, ok?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki said, willing away the stinging in his eyes, “yeah, I get it.” 

She’d never say it, but she loved him. He’d probably never tell her either. The two of them had a very different dynamic than either of them had with Dad. With him it was easy to talk about feelings with. With her, it just felt like anything either of them said would turn into a screaming match. But every now and then she’d do something or say something that reminded him that she did, in fact, care about Katsuki. 

“Let us know how the discussion turns out,” Dad said, “and keep us in the loop with your project, even if you don’t end up doing a clothing line. Your mom and I want to help in any way we can, ok?”

“Yeah, ok,” Katsuki said with a shaking breath. He wiped harshly at his face, trying to remove any trace of the emotion he was feeling. He’d have to go back inside with his annoying fucking classmates in a minute.

“Ugh, our show’s about to start,” Mom said, sounding a little uncomfortable. Katsuki snorted. She’d always been a little uncomfortable with Katsuki’s emotions. Dad had always handled it much better. Mom was more likely to just slap him upside the head and leave it at that. “We should be going.”

“Oh, yeah, wouldn’t want you to miss that,” Katsuki said, “I’ve got shit to do anyway.”

“Are you up to date with your homework?” She said. “And your grades?”

“Fuck you, I’m third in the class,” Katsuki replied immediately, “and it’s gonna stay that way. There’s no way I’m dropping lower than that.” His mother laughed.

“Yeah, you’d better fucking be,” she said, “anyway, I’m going. Bye, have a good night.”

“Bye,” Katsuki said. 

“We love you,” Dad said. He sounded like he was smiling. Katsuki smiled back, even though he wouldn’t be able to see, and hoped that it would come through his voice.

“Yeah, I love you guys too,” he said. His dad hummed. “Talk to you later?”

“Of course,” Dad said, “good luck with your discussion.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki said and hung up. 

Calls with his parents always inevitably ended up with him and his dad talking privately, his mother in a different room trying to deal with her own discomfort with Katsuki. Dad said it was because she was too similar to him. So Katsuki was usually the one hanging up on his dad. Otherwise his dad would think that  Katsuki still had something to say. Dad had never been one to cut off contact with someone first. He was the type of person to hug you until you let go. 

Katsuki stayed outside for another minute, regulating his breathing and staring out into the shifting fog. He needed to gather his strength for the upcoming discussion.

He missed his parents. He should probably go home and see them soon. They weren’t actually that far away. He could take a day trip home on one of the upcoming weekends if he didn’t sleep in too late. He’d missed his dad a lot. His mom too, he guessed. If this whole project didn’t somehow blow up in his face or take too much of his time, he’d go home.

--

Katsuki stepped into the common room unannounced. No one noticed him except Deku, who raised an expectant eyebrow. Katsuki ignored him and looked for a free seat. The couches in front of the TV were full, and most of those who hadn’t made it into them sat between the couches and the round coffee table. Kirishima was still sprawled across several laps, his head in Ashido’s lap. Deku sat on a couch handle next to Uraraka.

Bakugou walked up behind the couch Kirishima and Ashido were on. Iida, who was sitting on the floor with his back to the TV, glanced up and caught sight of him.

“Bakugou! Kirishima said you were calling your parents,” Iida said. Katsuki glared at Kirishima, who just shrugged. “Did you talk about the project?”

“They’re sending me contacts of advertisers, manufacturers, investors, and such,” Katsuki said, the class falling silent to stare at him. He resisted the urge to scratch at the back of his head or something. Instead he gripped the back of the couch and leaned over his classmates heads. “My mom’s a model, so she says she can get people and a photography team for us.”

“Oh, wow,” Ojirou said, “you really don’t do things by halves, huh?” He was sitting on the floor next to Satou and Hagakure.

“So are we all in agreement about doing a clothing line for merch?” Iida said. “Show of hands, please.” Everyone raised their hands. “Alright.” He smiled, clearly very pleased with the results.

“We’re supposed to be doing this with the business course,” Ponytail said from the couch opposite from Katsuki, “but at the rate this is going we might just end up doing this ourselves.” There was scattered laughter.

“So, I did some research,” Deku said, gesticulating wildly, “and we’re gonna have to get permits to sell merchandise as heroes. Because it’s from the Hero Commission, it’ll take a lot of time to go through, if it goes through at all. So I was thinking-”

“Always a dangerous pastime with you,” IcyHot said. He was under Kirishima’s lower torso, mindlessly rubbing Kirishima’s stomach with his left hand. Which probably explained why Kirishima hadn’t switched places yet. IcyHot ran hotter on his left side. It probably felt good. “Last time you had a thought -”

Katsuki snorted, grinning at his rival. Deku’d had a thought during their rescue training earlier with Thirteen and All Might. It had led to the spectacular rescue of Satou’s team, but Deku’s team had still lost to Todoroki’s team of villains. Katsuki had been a part of Todoroki’s team and had the pleasure of seeing Deku fail up close and personal.

“I was thinking,” Deku glared at his friend, but it quickly melted into his normal smile. Deku was shit at staying mad at his friends. “That maybe instead of each of us trying to get an individual permit, we should get a Class 2A permit. We’re doing this project as a group anyway, so we might as well.”

“That’s a good idea!” Ponytail said, straightening up and pulling out her phone as she talked. “I think if we were going at this as individuals, we’d have to get separate teams to help us. If we do this as a group, we could probably manage with just one team.” She was typing away furiously at it, probably taking notes on the discussion.

“And we can continue to add to our collection as we grow and establish ourselves as heroes,” Iida said, leaning back on his hands, “this way we’re never truly out of contact with each other, no matter what happens. It’s a clever way to maintain our bonds both as heroes and as friends. And it’ll present a united front to civilians and villains in a way that the current individually charting heroes. . . just don’t.” 

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at Iida. He hadn’t realized that his class president had noticed the disparity between the image heroes were trying to project and the image everyone picked up on. Katsuki had experienced it first hand back during the Sludge Monster Incident.

The heroes seemed to have been handling it, judging by what Katsuki had heard from the gathered crowd afterwards. But if they had, then Katsuki wouldn’t have been choking for so long. Deku wouldn’t have had to interfere. All Might wouldn’t have had to save him. And that was just as a civilian.

As a hero hopeful captured by the LOV? Or, as they probably saw it, a potential defected hero ally?

He’d had a lot of anti hero propaganda shoved down his throat, but the almost careless way they’d talked about the heroes just went to show just how little heroes’ efforts were doing to deter crime. Serious crime, not that petty vandalism and robbery shit. Systematic crime. The sort that sucked you in when you were down on your luck and never let you go.

He hadn’t known Iida had picked up on it - wasn’t he a legacy? The pro hero propaganda in his house must’ve been through the roof. When did he find time to learn about the real life differences?

“Do we really need investors, though?” The damn IcyHot said. He craned his head around to look at Katsuki. “My dad could probably foot the bill.”

“I think investors are a good idea,” Jirou said. She sat at Ponytail’s feet, leaning back against her legs. Her homework was strewn across the coffee table, clearly abandoned in favor of the more interesting discussion. “Your dad’s bragging will only do so much, especially since he’s, presumably, very busy being the number one hero. We’re supposed to be selling our merch and investors usually work in the long term. If we get their attention, we’ll last longer as a brand.” She shrugged a little. “At least, that’s what my parents told me.”

“What do your parents do again?” Mineta lisped from over in the armchair. It was the first thing he’d said during the whole discussion. Katsuki had kinda forgotten he was there.

“My dad’s a composer and my mom’s a musician,” Jirou said, Kaminari nodding next to her. Jirou looked up at Katsuki, then over at Todoroki. “Since we’re doing clothing, and Katsuki’s parents are both in the fashion industry, anyone they recommend to us will be a big help getting a foot out and into the industry. And as we get older and maybe eventually establish our own individual brands, they’ll probably invest in us then as well, because they’ve already seen our success as a group.”

“Oh,” Todoroki said, “that makes sense.” 

“But we shouldn’t rule out families,” Kouda said quietly. The only reason Katsuki could hear him clearly was because he was sitting under Kirishima’s legs next to Sero and therefore was close enough to be able to understand. “They can talk about it to their friends and spread information through word of mouth.”

“I agree, ribbit,” Asui said. Katsuki had no idea how she heard him, she was on the other couch next to Uraraka. “Our families are our most easily accessible resource right now. For those of us with siblings, they can tell their friends and it can spread around their classes and schools.” Katsuki’s phone started buzzing in his pocket, once every couple seconds. The other students turned to him. Katsuki tugged his phone out of his pocket.

“Dad’s sending me the contacts and info,” he said. Ponytail straightened up in her spot.

“May I see?” She asked. Katsuki unlocked his phone one handed and tossed it over to her, Sero and IcyHot ducking to give him a clearer shot. She caught it easily. “Oh, wow that’s a lot of people. Will we really need all of these people? Oh, he’s just explained that it’s good to have options. Bakugou, do you mind if I forward these texts to myself?”

“I don’t care,” Katsuki said. She nodded and started tapping away at the screen of his phone.

“What will we be doing about the brand? We can’t exactly call it UA’s Class 2A,” Ashido said, “we’ve gotta think in the long run.”

“And we’ll have to figure out our target audience,” Iida said, “and that will dictate what we make and how we advertise it. Tsuyu mentioned siblings - so we will have to make child size versions of our designs.”

“Children and hero stans are probably going to be our biggest market,” Deku said, “at least, as far as I can tell. I think for the brand, we should just focus on a name or a general theme for the clothes. The business students will probably handle the rest.”

“Oh, I forgot about them,” Hagakure said, laughing. She sat up onto her knees and turned to place her crossed arms on Uraraka’s thighs, seeming to peer up at Deku. “It’s like Yaomomo said: we’re probably going to be doing everything ourselves without their help.”

“It’s very in character for us,” Tokoyami said. He sunk farther into the couch with a careful glance to Asui on his right. “We don’t often rely on outsiders.”

“Each other is enough, I think,” Todoroki agreed.

“I dunno,” Kirishima said, rolling over so he could lay on his stomach, voice a little muffled where he shoved his face into Ashido’s thigh, “also could you get my lower back? It’s been aching. Yeah, right there, thank you. I disagree, I think we have a lot to gain by interacting with and learning from other people. Like yeah, we’re pretty self sufficient, but there’s so much I wouldn’t have learned if I hadn’t taken that work study with Fatgum.”

“That work study was intense,” Deku said, laughing as he readjusted his position on the couch arm. “It was ages ago and I’m still tired.”

“I’m just glad it worked out,” Asui said. Uraraka nodded next to her. She looked sleepy.

“Bakugou,” Ponytail said, “your mom texted the information on the models and the photography studio. Does she always text in all caps?” Katsuki glared at her. Why the fuck would she say that in front of everyone?

“She still does that?” Deku gasped, giggling.

“Shut the fuck up, Deku!” Katsuki yelled. He turned to Ponytail. “If you need the info, take it, just don’t text the hag back.”

“Kacchan,” Deku chided, but Katsuki could tell it was a halfhearted one. Deku’d had a whole life to get used to him calling her that.

“Yaoyorozu, can I get a copy of that data?” Iida said, shifting forwards and tugging his phone from his pocket. She nodded.

“I was thinking of making a doc of shared resources,” she said, “and then sharing it with the class. We have to write up our plans for the project anyway, so we can use the document as a starting place.”

“Good plan, Yaoyorozu!” Iida said, volume growing with his happiness. Yaoyorozu smiled at him before returning her attention to Katsuki’s phone. A thought occurred to Katsuki.

“Are we going to showcase the merch?” He asked. The soft murmur of conversation that had arisen while the class reps were talking quieted again.

“I know!” Uraraka gasped. “We should do a fashion show!”