Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Unlike most things Katsuki does, it started small. Simple. Barely noticeable, just his throat feeling a bit scratchy and a light cough beginning to develop. Nothing he couldn’t deal with. Nothing that could distract him from his weekly sparring session with Kirishima. 

He doesn’t even bother to mention it to the red haired boy. Nor anyone else. Katsuki isn’t a little bitch, he can fucking handle himself thank you very much. 

In fact, Bakugou prides himself of how well he handles everything. He studied hard, maintained his position at the top of the class, fought against real villains and trained his ass off /even after being fucking kidnapped/. That’s pretty badass of him. He might as well already be a hero.

Working that hard takes its toll, of course, but that isn’t anyone’s business but his own.

An explosion crackles in his hand and a wicked grin makes its way upon his face as Bakugou once again throws himself at the wall that is Eijiro Kirishima who, lately, has been able to match him pretty well. It seems the days of Bakugou using Kirishima as his own personal punching bag in sparring are over.

Kirishima matches his grin as they wrap up the match, wiping sweat and grime off of his forehead and clapping Bakugou on the shoulder. Bakugou smirks, letting his usual facade of indifference slip for just long enough that his best friend would know he cares

He covers a cough with his elbow as the two of them make their way back into the dorms to shower and then spend the rest of their Sunday lazing around (Kirishima) or studying (Bakugou) 

 Someone is laughing in the common area. It’s a nice sound, Bakugou thinks to himself. It feels familiar and comforting to be able to be around his classmates. Not that he’d admit it, but he prefers the loud antics of 1-A to the regular household yelling of his parents. Or, worse, silence. He doesn’t miss his childhood bedroom as it seems people like Ponytail or Half-and-Half do.

 As Katsuki rounds the corner to peer into the lounge, his face contorts into a scowl at the sight of Izuku Midoriya, draped across one of the loveseats, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut in laughter at what appears to be Round Cheeks trying to teach Teacher’s Pet how to do a dance move. 

“You just— throw it back , see? Not that hard. Iida, no. You’re too stiff, silly! You have to be fluid— Oh! Hey Bakugou!”

Katsuki immediately snaps out of his trance of staring to glare at Pink Cheeks. The dumbass had completely turned away from Iida in order to wave at him, beckoning with a tilt of her head for him to join their lameass little group.

Bakugou feels his mouth open, snark on the tip of his tongue and a snarl forming when he’s cut off before he can say anything.

“Hey, Kacchan!” Dumb fucking nickname. Grow up, stupid Deku. “How was your match against Kirishima?” 

“Why do you care? So you can write about who won in your lame little hero diary?” 

The comeback is effortless. Smooth. A well practiced game of back and forth that both Izuku and Katsuki know well. Instead of backing down and cowering, although with a hint of stutter, Midoriya takes the bait and snips back, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lip.

“Heh! Umm, I--yeah, actually! I’d like to add how Kirishima beat you to my notes on his quirk!” 

I’m going to kill this motherfucker is the only thing Bakugou can think of as his palms immediately crackle in frustration. He takes a step towards Midoriya, ready to yank out his stupid green hair, when Katsuki feels a hand on his shoulder. 

“Dude, chill out,” Kirishima (how long has he been here??) hardens the skin on his hand, ready to yank Bakugou away from the situation. “I thought you two had worked things out after your big nighttime showdown?” 

Katsuki tenses at the thought. Even as a joke, he didn’t like being seen as weak. And as far as he was concerned, that’s all Midoriya had seen. The future successor of All Might’s saw him as some broken, messed up guy who everyone needed to tiptoe around like he’s some sort of fucking landmine about to detonate. 

Katsuki could tell. He could see the pity in Midoriya’s eyes sometimes. Just like when they were kids.

Fucking asshole.

Sometimes, Bakugou felt as if he was the only person who saw Midoriya for what he was. A dickwad who was in the right place at the right time far too often. All of his accomplishments came to be because of sheer dumb luck, and it infuriated Katsuki. As someone who has busted his ass since childhood to get to where he is, seeing someone who was meant to be quirkless ,a Support Group nothing become some sort of powerful well known figure just didn’t sit right with the blond. 

Why was Deku the one that All Might had chosen? Why was it the nerd’s turn?

Why wasn’t it me? Instantly, Katsuki answers his own question. I wasn’t good enough. I have to be better. Better than all of them. Maybe then—

No. Don’t. Don’t think about it.

Maybe then he’ll see me as an equal.

“Bro? Earth to Baku? Blasty??” 

Suddenly, there is a hand waving in front of his face. Kirishima’s hand. Bakugou’s has no idea how long it’s been waving in front of his eyes. How long has he been zoned out staring at dumbass Deku ?

“Whatever,” Katsuki mutters, turning away from the scene in the common area sharply. He heads to the elevators, tuning out Kirishima’s “Later, dude!” as the redhead turns to talk with Deku and his dumb friends. 

••

It is 3:42 AM when the first petals fall from his lips. 

The nightmare that woke him up had been nasty. Blurred scenes of the league interrogating him. The smell of cigarettes and bad booze that radiated off of their hideout, reaching out like a hand and suffocating him. Threatening to dissolve him into nothing. Bakugou thinks he might have screamed. But he’s not sure. Everything around him was dissolving. All he could hear was his fucking voice. Surrounding him, sounding like sandpaper, telling him how he failed. How it was his fault that All Might had to retire. It was all his fault. It’s always been his fault . 

There was an explosion that wasn’t his and suddenly Kirishima’s hand was gripping his arm. They flew through the air, and for some reason, the dream zoomed in on Deku of all people in the rescue team. On his determined face, eyes glinting with something Bakugou had never been able to place. Wind ripping through his curls. 

But of course, things went wrong and suddenly Deku’s face began to melt,  green eyes turning yellow and the features of that blonde insane chick began materializing . She was smiling, laughing,her teeth grew sharper.

“What did you do to him?” Bakugou choked out. Kirishima was gone. He was no longer in the air. He was trapped in a void. It was only him and Himeko Toga. 

“Don’t worry! I took good care of him, Kacchan~” Deku’s nickname for him made Katsuki freeze. His stomach twisted into knots and his heartbeat skyrocketed as a wave of dread consumed him. Blondie was saying that to mock him, he knows it. Time to blow her ass up.

And then Bakugou’s wake. He’s awake and sweating more than usual and coughing up what feels like blood. But it’s not. 

The fuck?

Katsuki turns on his bedside lamp, which casts an eerie orange glow on what was seconds ago a pitch black room. His pillowcase is stained red, little flecks of blood painting it. But there’s something else. Mixed in with the red liquid almost as if they, too, were a part of him. Thin, velvety petals. Rose petals. Unmistakably so.

Tentatively, Katsuki picks one up and rolls it around his fingers. Weird. Was he hit by some sort of quirk? Whatever it is, it’s something he’ll deal with in the morning. 

••

He should not have waited to deal with it until morning. 

This is Katsuki’s first thought as he leans over his toilet, coughing up petal after petal. He’s missing class, and it’s making him angry. If he’s not careful, the dumb extras might pass him up in his studies. And like hell someone as stupid as Ponytail or even Deku are going to—

What feels like an entire bouquet’s worth of petals comes flying out of his mouth, burning Bakugou’s throat and making his eyes water. 

Fuck . Fucking fuck . 

As the day goes on, it comes in waves. There will be an hour or two of blissful nothingness where Bakugou gets to drink water and catch his breath. But, inevitably, it starts up again. Each time more intensely than the last. 

Bakugou doesn’t cry. He doesn’t. Crying is a sign of weakness. But goddamn is he close to tears when he hears the knock on the door to his room. He pauses for a second, holding still while  trying to convince whoever is there that he isn’t home. That he’s not currently curled up in his bed, dreading and waiting for the next wave of flower petals.

A muffled “Kacchan?” sounds from out in the hallway, and Bakugou thanks every entity that he’s not coughing right now.

“What do you want, nerd?” His voice sounds hoarse and raw. Even for Bakugou’s standards. His mouth feels like he’s been eating sand and his tongue is numb as the words form.

“Aizawa Sensei sent me to check on you. You aren’t really known for cutting class…” Deku is mumbling, and Bakugou tunes it out for a moment, his brain coming back to the conversation when Midoriya says “...you sound awful, are you okay?” 

“I’m fucking fine. Piss off.” Bakugou’s voice cracks. His voice cracks and he hates it. This definitely isn’t going to help the image he’s been desperately trying to rebuild when it comes to Izuku. 

“Open the door, Kacchan. People are worried.” 

“What the fuck makes you think I’d want help from any of you extras?!” 

Katsuki lets out a single cough into his elbow as quietly as possible. A petal falls out of his mouth. 

“So you admit that you need help?”

God fucking dammit.

“Deku,” The blond takes a raggedy breath. “Fuck. Off.” 

It’s a direct order, but it’s also a threat. Izuku seems to realize that. There’s a beat of silence, and then the sound of footsteps walking away from Bakugou’s door. Even though Deku can’t see him, Katsuki raises both hands and flips Izuku off with vigor.

A google search on his phone (Where he is ignoring no less than 35 texts from his friends) while once again kneeling at the toilet is giving Bakugou absolutely zero bits of useful information. There’s hardly any public records of citizens--villainous or otherwise--having a flower petal based quirk. Plant growth as a quirk isn’t necessarily uncommon, but nothing is matching up with what Bakugou’s dealing with. 

He mentally walks himself through the last day or two. Saturday afternoon he was dragged out to the mall by pikachu and scotch tape, but he was still in bed by 9:00. Sunday he studied, lazed around, yelled at Ashido for asking to paint his nails, and then sparred with Kirishima. He’d sulked in his room the rest of the evening. The cough had started a bit before the sparring session. 

Someone at the mall must have done it. Maybe someone had a touch activated quirk and bumped him. Or maybe there was a league stakeout. That weird gecko motherfucker was green. Maybe he was good at plants. Or maybe one of Overhaul’s men...working on a new experiment? 

Regardless, he could handle it on his own. 

As if on cue, a particularly painful batch of petals comes up. Bakugou wants to yell in frustration, but his throat is too raw. He clenches his fists so hard that there are crescents in his palms as he wretches petals for another twenty minutes. 

••

It feels like he can’t breathe. The petals are definitely clogging his lungs or something. It’s vaguely reminiscent of the suffocation Bakugou experienced with the sludge villain. That thought made him sweat more than normal, made him shaky. For the second time today, tears prick at the corners of Bakugou’s eyes. 

It’s 9:30 PM now. The only way Katsuki knows this is by the sounds of lots of footsteps coming from the elevator, signaling that the common area’s TV had automatically turned off, as it did on weekdays, signaling that students were to retire to their respective dorm rooms. There’s chatter in the hallway as his floormates bid their goodnights to one another. 

Bakugou takes another shallow breath, and struggles to stand up. His vision darkens for a second from the sudden change in position, so he leans on his bathroom’s sink until the woozy feeling goes away. 

Making eye contact with himself in the mirror feels strange. His eyes look sunken in, and he’s a sickly green color. There’s some dried blood on his chin.

Katsuki splashes some water onto his face, wipes away the blood, and takes a shaky breath once again. His airways feel slightly more clear. He estimates another hour before another romantic date with the toilet. 

He hasn’t eaten today. 

It hasn’t seemed worth it with all of the vomiting. Was it considered vomiting? Bakugou wasn’t sure. 

“Is vomiting up blood considered real vomiting?” joins his phone’s search history. It sits nicely above his previous searches

“Flower vomit quirk”

“Plant Vomit quirk”

“Blood flower quirk”

“Blood vomit quirk with roses”

“Rose vomit”

And, from the period where he wasn’t coughing up gore-flower mix,

“ Top ten All Might cool moments”

He doesn’t even hear himself sigh, he just feels it. The air coasting up his throat and irritating that which was already raw.

He doesn’t even hear himself sigh, he just feels it. The air coasting up his throat and irritating what was already raw. 

Tomorrow morning, he’d go see Recovery Girl. After everyone else has left for class for the day. No one will see him. Doesn’t have to be a big deal. 

Tonight, however, Bakugou is out of water bottles, so he needs to slip down to the kitchen to get more before whatever the hell this is, starts up again.

Making it out of the bathroom and to his door goes surprisingly well. He barely stumbles as he makes it to the stairwell (Can’t risk someone hearing the elevator), and is pretty proud of himself by the time he’s lethargically walking through the lounge area to get to the kitchen. As he does every time he makes the occasional night walk to the kitchen, he flips off the security camera in the corner of the room. Katsuki knows Aizawa isn’t watching. And if he was, Kats didn’t care.

All is well until he notices the kitchen light is on. 

He’s already made it over halfway to where the light is spilling out. And he knows he hasn’t been super quiet. Any respectable student in hero training would have noticed the presence of another person. 

Okay Bakugou thinks to himself. Just act natural.

“...Kacchan?”

God fucking dammit. 

He ignores Izuku, who has now made himself visible, peering around a wall to see who was there. Instead, Bakugou walks straight past him to get to the fridge, ignoring the shelf in the side of the door where Kaminari keeps his Bang Energy, scanning the drawer where the class keeps takeout leftovers, and finally locating a few spare plastic water bottles in the back. He grabs three. 

“Kacchan are you okay? Kirishima said he texted you a lot and you didn’t answer! And I tried to text you too but I think you still have my phone number blocked...or..wait! You did unblock me when we had to do that group project for English Language! Wow, that was a hard project. Giving the presentation in entirely english was tougher than fighting villains! Speaking of which, in class today while you were gone Mr. Aizawa was talking about how--”

Bakugou holds up a hand in front of Izuku’s face, successfully silencing him. 

“Deku,” Katsuki can’t stop the wince that came with speaking, and he knows Deku noticed it. “Stop the fucking mumbling.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess?” 

It’s a weird response. Even for Deku standards. Where there would normally be an apology or stuttering there simply isn’t. And the tone was different than normal too, but not in the normal different way. Not the way the octave lowers slightly and he swallows his words when he decides to challenge Bakugou’s taunts. No, this wasn’t that particular voice. Not that katsuki memorizes his voices. They’ve just known each other a long time. Regardless, this is the voice Deku uses when he’s insinuating.

“You,” Katsuki clears his throat “You got something to say, nerd?”

“I mumble. You refuse to accept help from others. Both are habits.” Izuku looks at the tiles on the floor as if they are the most interesting thing on the planet. He refuses to make eye contact while speaking his mind, as if meeting Katsuki’s gaze would make him mute.

Katsuki’s palms crackle. Successfully causing the three plastic water bottles still in his hands to either explode or go flying. Clearly, this attempt at being threatening doesn’t work as Deku lets out a snort. Immediately, he squeaks, realizing he just laughed at Katsuki, and turns to grab a hand towel off of the counter. 

Awkwardly, Izuku picks up the towel, and, instead of handing it to Katsuki like a normal fucking person , he reaches out and tentativley gives Bakugou’s right arm a singular pat with it. Clearly unsure of himself. 

Bakugou snatches the towel from him with a grunt, and moves to dry off his arms on his own. 

What a dumbass.

“You didn’t even yell at me. Something is seriously wrong.”

“THE HELL IS THA--” Katsuki begins his normal scream of defiance, and immediately regrets it as pain rips through his throat. It feels like his insides are turning on him as his airways lock down. 

Panicked, he drops to the ground, and lays the towel out in front of himself to avoid a clean up later, already dry heaving. Izuku is saying something behind him, but Bakugou can’t hear anything besides the sound of his own ragged breathing and a faint ringing in his ears. 

Why does he have to be here for this? Why does he always have to be the one to see me so weak? 

This time, it’s an entire flower. A whole ass rose. Thorns and all. Ripping its way up his windpipe and landing on the towel in front of him with an unsatisfying plop. There is a beat of complete silence, and then katsuki makes the mistake of turning around and looking up, seeing Izuku’s horrified expression.

“I need--” Another few petals come up “I need to see your notes on people with plant quirks.”

“No,” Deku’s tone is rising again. It makes Bakugou even more uncomfortable. “You need Recovery Girl. Now.” 

“Deku--” Bakugou begins, but Deku is already rapidly typing something on his phone. Presumably texting Aizawa, who’s number they all had in case of emergencies.\

  I swear to fuck if this becomes a class gathering I will lose it.

“Shut up.” Deku snaps, setting his phone down. Then, more gently “You’ll hurt your throat more.” 

Deku telling Bakugou to shut up is so foreign that Katsuki obeys. Petals and now small rosebuds (that’s new) being the only reason he opens his mouth while the duo wait for their Homeroom teacher. It’s an uncomfortable and tense silence. Deku’s not even mumbling. He simply sits down next to a haunched over Katsuki and says nothing.

He’s judging you. He knows what the quirk is and thinks you’re stupid for not figuring out how to stop it. He’s smarter than you. They all are. Dumb fucking Katsuki who can’t even stop himself from getting kidnapped by some low-grade thugs.

Aizawa shows up about three minutes later, hero outfit haphazardly thrown overtop of what look to be pajama pants with cats on them. How professional.   Bakugou has to fight off the urge to snort. 

“I can take him from here, Midoriya. Go to bed. It’s almost midnight.” 

“But sir I--”

“Midoriya. Bed. Now.”

Deku quietly puts a plate Katsuki hadn’t even noticed in the sink that presumably had crumbs of a midnight snack, and hurriedly makes his way back through the common area. 

Bakugou watches him leave as Aizawa unceremoniously scoops him up like a child. Not having the energy to protest the embarrassing position, Bakugou simply coughs again. A petal falling from his mouth and landing on his teacher’s shoulder.  

••

Recovery girl is a bitch. 

She’s secretive about everything while she pokes at Bakugou, Aizawa standing in the corner of the infirmary room with his arms folded. The two adults keep exchanging unreadable glances, and it makes Katsuki want to scream. Or punch something. Or blow something up. He settles for furrowing his eyebrows and giving the most discontent facial expression he can manage. 

Eventually, Recovery Girl speaks. Not to him ( because why the hell would the doctor speak to the patient? Not like it’s her GODDAMN JOB OR ANYTHING) but to Aizawa. 

“We’ll have to call his mother” Hey, what if we didn’t do that? What if we just...let me deal with this? I can fucking handle myself. “Not now, obviously, but a bit before dawn” Recovery Girl glances at the clock above the window of the small medical room. “Wait until 6 AM. It’s not too urgent yet.”

Yet.

That sounds fun. 

“I can stay here until then.” Katsuki’s gaze turns to Aizawa, who’s already pulling out a phone. “Let me just text ‘Zashi an update so he’s not worried and then--”

“That won’t be necessary, Shouta. You have to teach in a few hours and you’ve already wasted most of your night being here. I can handle Bakugou just fine.” Recovery Girl is now gently ushering Aizawa out of the room and presumably back towards wherever the fuck he sleeps. Bakugou wants to yell about them talking about him in front of him. He craves yelling in general since he’s been deprived for a while now. Especially if that involves yelling at Aizawa and Recovery Grandma for calling his old hag. But the throbbing pain in the back of his throat is more than enough deterrent. 

Instead of any of that, Recovery Girl gives him an injection of what Bakugou presumes is morphine, and he sleeps. 

He dreams of sludge. 

Chapter Text

When Bakugou wakes up, he is hooked up to a ventilator. 

This is not the first time he was woken up to such a scenario. But it is the first time where he doesn’t actually have any idea what in the fresh fuck is wrong. 

His mom is in the room, which is annoying. So is Aizawa (not in pajamas this time) and Recovery Girl. They’re all talking in hushed voices with backs turned to him. So, Bakugou does what he does best to get someone’s attention. He ignites his palms and makes them crackle. They fizzle like sparklers and he watches the small explosions pop and burst. It’s grounding. 

The three whip their heads around to face him, and it is then that Katsuki realises that his mom has been crying. 

“Kats...” She whispers, before running over to the bed Katsuki is currently situated at. Katsuki makes a face as best he can with a ventilator obstructing his mouth and nose. Which basically means he squinted really hard at his mom. 

“You can take the ventilator off, Mr. Bakugou. I’ve reduced your throat pain and lowered the probability of the, erm, coughing fits. They’ll still happen. But less.” Recovery Girl calls out to Katsuki over the sound of Bakugou Mitsuki fussing.

Katsuki rips off the ventilator and takes a shaky, unassisted breath before speaking.

“What,” he takes another breath, looking towards his teacher “the fuck?”

Immediately, Mitsuki smacks the top of his head. Any evidence of her crying from seconds ago immediately wiping itself from her face. 

“IS THAT HOW WE SPEAK TO RESPECTED ADULTS?? I THOUGHT I RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THAT YOU BRAT!”

“WELL YOU THOUGHT WRONG YOU SHITTY OLD HAG!” The response is instinctive, and Katsuki is pleasantly surprised when the yelling doesn’t shred his insides. At this newcoming discovery, Bakugou turns his attention back to yelling at his homeroom teacher. “OI! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN PICK ME UP LIKE A BABY JUST BECAUSE SHITTY DEKU FREAKED OUT OVER A COUGH?? I WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE . I WAS FINE ALL DAY WITH IT”

Aizawa blatantly ignores him. Going back to speaking to Misuki and Recovery Girl as if he wasn’t there. 

“As I was saying before he woke up, based on the forms you and Katsuki both signed when he enrolled here at UA, he has final say over medical decisions. Additionally, when dealing with something like this, it would be considered a human rights violation for the choice to be made for him.”

“But he’s just a kid-- KATSUKI DON’T GIVE ME THAT FACE--and it’s so much responsibility to make a choice like this. Not to mention the detrimental side effects. I don’t know if he could handle it...” Mitsuki trailed off. Looking away from both Aizawa and Katsuki. 

See? Bakugou thinks to himself. Of course they don’t trust you. 

“If I may,” Recovery Girl piped up “I’d like to explain the situation to the boy, privately in the most professional medical terms possible”

Aizawa is already speed walking towards the door after the word “private”. He is clearly uncomfortable with being involved in any sort of Bakugou family affairs. Mitsuki is more hesitant to follow, but eventually also vacates the room.

“What the fu--” Katsuki tries to start before he is, again cut off.

“I want you to listen to me carefully before you start yelling. Got it?”

Bakugou glares at her, but gives a nod so small that most would not have noticed it.

“Originally, we thought you were hit by a quirk of some sort. We pulled both Kaminari Denki and Sero Hanta earlier this morning to ask if you had any altercations when the three of you went shopping. They had nothing to report. Kirishima Eijirou and Midoriya Izuku also came up with nothing. Obviously, this fact alone does not eliminate a quirk from the equation,” She pauses to take her first breath of the entire explanation. “ However , what does eliminate foul play with quirks is three factors: medical testing,”--she gestures to several X-rays that Katsuki has no memory of being subjected to--“quirk databases,”--A gesture to a computer--“And medical records of this sort of thing happening before throughout history.” She finishes. 

“If it’s not a quirk then what the hell is it?! What else can make my stomach do that?!” Katsuki pipes up, starting to get antsy.

“Not stomach. Lungs. You have Hanahaki disease.” Recovery Girl cringes as she says it. Ready for the bouts of screaming to come from Bakugou’s mouth. 

They do not come.

 Instead, recovery Girl receives a blank, unreadable stare.

“The hell I do. That shit’s from storybooks.”

“Mr. Bakugou, we live in a world where quirks were magically manifested one day. You have bombs in your hands . And you are meaning to tell me that you know more than a medical record does simply because you don’t find it realistic?” 

Shit. 

“But I don’t love anybody. Not like that.” Katsuki argues. Recovery Girl scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“There’s no point in lying about that now, boy. I’ll go ahead and give you your options. Would you like your mother present for the decision?”

“I don’t give a damn about where she is.” 

Please don’t let her back in.

“Okay, I’ll have her come right back in then.” 

Dammit.

Katsuki crosses his arms as Mitsuki files back into the room. Aizawa is gone. Class must be starting soon. Good. He’s got better places to be and so does Katsuki. Neither of them have time for this Hanahaki bullshit.

“As you seem to know, according to the Hanahaki myth,  you can either confess to the one you are longing for, or, have the flower growing in your lungs removed and remove your love with it.” Recovery Girl continues talking as if this is the most normal thing in the world. And it’s pissing Bakugou off. 

“And if I don’t do either of those things?” Katsuki ventures. 

“I’d give you about three weeks left to live before the plant suffocates you.”

“Bullshit” Katsuki and his mother say it at the same time, mirroring each other. 

“Alright. The jig’s up, Grandma. This some kind of test? Just fix the damn quirk mishap.” Katsuki’s voice is slightly shaky. He doesn’t do suffocation. Not his thing. 

“You want me to remove the plant mass?”

“I never said that.” Katsuki’s response is so fast and so sharp it surprises even him. 

“Oh, so you’ll tell her! Is it that Uraraka girl who can levitate things? She gave you a run for your money in the sports festival. Though, I’m not surprised. You were being bitchy that day. What powerful kids you two would--”

“I never said that, either. Hag.” Katsuki cuts his mother off, internally cringing at the idea of even looking at Pink Cheeks for more than ten seconds. 

“So you’re choosing to...die.” Recovery girl concludes. But it sounds more like a question.

“Nah,” Katsuki sighs. “I won’t die. This shit is bs. I don’t love anybody . I don’t have the time. I’ve got better things to do. If this is some weird experiment to get me to be nice to people, you’re shit out of luck.” 

“Katsuki. I am not going to watch you die simply because you’re a dumbass bratty kid .” Mitsuki groans, looking ready to rip her own hair out.

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING A DUMBASS, DUMBASS?” Katsuki’s back on his yelling kick.

“I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD AND I ALONE WILL DECIDE WHEN TO TAKE YOU OUT YOU UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF WORK!”

“FINE! I’LL SHOW YOU! I’LL KEEP THE FAKEASS LOVE PLANT AND LIVE ANYWAYS BECAUSE THE ONLY PERSON I LOVE IS ME. TAKE THAT! ”

The two women in the room glance at each other before Recovery Girl speaks.

“The coughing fits, and exhalation of flower petals will worsen each day you do not confess to whoever she is. Maybe only two today, but, in a few days, it will be closer four or five if you follow the same patterns as other patients who have had this disease. It will become less and less manageable. Three weeks is the maximum amount of time I can see you living like this. I understand your pride, so I will go along with you pretending to not know who she is. I hope you have success.”

Katsuki gapes at her.

“Now. Get back to your room. Shower, maybe. Put on your uniform and be in class by second period.” Recovery Girl is ushering him out of bed now, gesturing that he should leave.

“Are you fucking ki--”

“ Brat. Go.”

His mom was tearing up again from a mixture of what Katsuki can guess is a magnified version of her usual frustration, and it was his fault. It tends to be his fault when it comes to these things. Disappointing his parents. Almost dying. Shit like that. If you were only stronger Katsuki thought to himself as he made his way out of the medwing. If you were stronger they wouldn’t have to test you like this. They’re playing mind games because they know you’re weak. That’s what you are. Weak.

••

Bakugou can feel Deku burning a hole in the back of his head, and it’s getting annoying.

Everyone else seems to be better about minding their own goddamn business when Bakugou waltzes into his second period after being MIA for a good 36 hours. Of course, the dumb band of extras that he often subjects himself to the company of all give him worried glances. Which, in Bakugou’s opinion, is overkill. They’ve texted him a total of 68 times, but Bakugou always ignores their texts. He doesn’t see why these should be any different. If it was an emergency, they would try to call him. And they only tried to call three times. Hardly emergency behavior. 

Aizawa is droning on about some sort of rescue mission ethics thing where you have to choose between saving a doctor and a child. It’s a class discussion, and Teacher’s Pet seems to be debating that he would be fast enough to save both.

“It’s a hypothetical, Iida,” Ponytail argues. “The point of the exercise is that we are unable to save both. A choice has to be made.”

Headphones raises her hand, and Aizawa calls on her. 

“Do we have any additional information? Is one of the options in more urgent need of care?”

The discussion continues, but Bakugou isn’t listening. He’s suspicious. Every so often, an extra gives him a worried look. Like they know something. That would also explain the fact that they all minded their own business. Yes, a few of them are naturally respectful, but Katsuki can’t picture Mineta caring about sparing someone’s feelings. 

I’d beat the shit out of them if they were babying me or my feelings. Is the conclusion that Katsuki comes to. A solid one at that, if you ask him. He considers how he would beat the shit out of different students in class instead of listening back into the discussion. 

“Bakugou, I asked you a question.” 

Suddenly, eyes were all on him. He couldn’t just not answer. That would prove he didn’t know. Bakugou  probably does know. He just didn’t hear the question Aizawa asked. Either way, he needs to say something. 

“Rephrase your question so that your students can understand it then. There’s no point in teaching if you’re setting us up to fail.” Katsuki retorts, hoping that the question was complex enough for that to be an acceptable response. 

“Thank you, Bakugou, for that insightful tidbit. Would you care to explain to me how asking you where your uniform’s tie was is a question that sets you up to fail?”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Pikachu snorts in his seat. There are a few other giggles. Katsuki’s blood boils.

“I blew it up just like I’ll blow up the asses of anyone else who laughs.” Is his final answer. 

“See me after class.”

“Whatever.”

••

Aizawa shuts the classroom door after the rest of 1-A has all migrated to the cafeteria. He sighs heavily and stares for a solid thirteen seconds at the sleeping bag rolled up under his desk. He seems to be longing for it. Bakugou ignores him and stays put in his seat. If Aizawa wants to talk, he’s the one who needs to move. 

“Kid,” He already sounds resigned. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.” 

Katsuki frowns. He analyzes the bags under his teacher’s eyes. Deeper than normal. His expression is a bit softer than usual. More similar to the way he looks at Eri. Pair that with “kid” and you’ve got a weird dad complex. Gross.

“I’m not your fucking kid.” 

“Recovery Girl explained to me what your choice was,” A pause. “Bakugou. If you do nothing, you will die. That’s a guarantee.” 

“We all die.” 

“Good observation.” Another pause. “I’m not going to allow one of my top students to throw his life away due to stubbornness and refusal to confess his love to some teenage girl. Think of how your classmates will feel. How UA will look. How would All Might feel? You are not the only person in this world.”

“Get to the point, Socrates.” 

“If you’re not going to tell her, take the flower out. Take the flower out or you will suffocate. And, quite frankly, I don’t think I’d enjoy watching that happen.”

“Then look away.” Bakugou begins to stand up. To leave his desk and walk out the door. A hand roughly grabs his shoulder. 

“I won’t so much as blink .” They hold eye contact for a long time. Of course, Bakugou blinks first because he hasn’t had weirdass eyeball training or whatever. 

“I don’t need to tell anybody shit. Recovery Girl fucked up her results. There isn’t some weird love plant inside of me.”

Aizawa sighs. Again. It’s something he tends to do. Bakugou is beginning to find it incredibly annoying. 

“And if there is..?”

“Then that’s none of your fucking buisness.” 

The door to the classroom slams shut behind Bakugou after he walks out, not even sparing a glance at his homeroom teacher. Who, with lips pursed and a pained expression, lets him walk away.

••

Everyone knows. 

Everyone knows and is in Bakugou’s business. Every single class 1-A student has been briefed on the situation after a debacle in english language class where Bakugou coughed up no less than 29 petals over the span of the class period. His classmates don’t know whether to harass him or leave him be. After all, Bakugou’s in love with someone . And, more likely than not, it’s someone in their class. 

This is the conclusion Bakugou has also come to. Not that he’s giving in and admitting he loves someone. It is simply a precaution. In a situation where he were to have Hanahaki disease, he would probably be in love with someone he sees often. This is Bakugou’s logic.  

Sitting through the rest of his classes for the day is agonizing. Deku’s still determined to develop laser eye vision, staring hard at the back of Katsuki’s head. Alien chick is practically vibrating in her seat, and Bakugou knows she’s going to jump him with questions as soon as that final bell rings. 

Invisible chick keeps turning around in her seat to stare at him. Or, at least, Bakugou thinks she’s staring. She could be sticking her tongue out at him. If she knows what’s good for her, she will stop either of those things.

Midnight is excitedly pointing at some images projected onto the chalkboard, explaining their artistic significance or something. All of the statues have small dicks. Bakugou wonders if it’s a metaphor. 

“Miss Midnight?”

“Oh! Yes, Kaminari?” 

Everyone seems equally surprised that Pikachu raised his hand to ask a question in art history of all classes. 

“Why do all of the statues have such small di--um… genitals?”

Of course he’d be thinking about that . Bakugou sulks. Completely ignoring the fact that he had the same question. 

“I am so glad you asked!” Midnight squeals? Groans? She makes a sound and it’s weird. Jumping into the history of penis size throughout different eras. 

Bakugou hears Mineta shrivel from two seats behind him. 

When the bell finally rings, Bakugou grabs his books and throws his bag over his shoulder at mach speeds. Dashing out of the classroom and making a beeline for the exit. He hears the squad of extras who like him not far behind, calling out his name.Katsuki ignores them. He’s faster than they are, so he unabashedly breaks into a sprint. 

He is stopped after only a few yards by the feeling of his lungs closing up once again. 

Are you fucking shitting me?

The dumb extras catch up to him easily, immediatley encircling him. Just like the other times when this has happened in front of people, Bakugou can’t hear them. Everything sounds like it’s underwater as Katsuki doubles over and coughs up three rosebuds and 13 petals. Not all at once, but rather in the span of the fifteen minutes where he’s wheezing and choking while the lameass group panics over what to do. 

At one point, Ashido was patting his back. Or maybe it was Kirishima. Bakugou was a bit too distracted to check. Either way, he was not a fan. 

When he finally straightens up and wipes the blood at the corner of his mouth on his sleeve, the four surrounding him look pale and shaken up. 

“Got something to say?” Katsuki growls. His voice sounds shaky. Tired. To be fair, he’d had a rough night. A few in a row, actually. 

“Dude….” is all Sero can manage. “Does it like…hurt?”

Ashido, thank god, slaps Sero on the side of the head for Bakugou. Saving him the effort of whooping Scotch Tape’s ass. 

“No, it feels amazing. Feels like an ocean fucking breeze.” Is all the response Sero receives before Katsuki starts (shakily) walking again, leaving the bloody pile of flower remnants on the pavement outside of UA’s main building. This time, he walks slow enough that the rest of the group can keep up. 

There is silence for about five minutes of the eight minute walk before Kaminari tests the waters. 

“So…do you know who it is?”  If looks could kill, not only would Kaminari have died, his entire family would be cursed with infertility. “Too soon?” He grimaces.  “Got it.” 

Again, there is silence. It’s either Kirishima or Ashido’s turn to try. Bakugou hopes neither of them step up to the plate as they reach the doors to 1-A’s dorms. 

The five of them are the first to enter, and instead of moseying off to their usual after school spots (Denki and Hanta in the kitchen snacking, Mina draping herself over a couch to talk to the girls, Eijirou following Katsuki to a study table) there is simply stillness. Awkward standing around as if none of them know what the appropriate course of action is. 

“Gonna go take a nap. M’tired.” Katsuki mumbles, hoping the group takes the hint that they are dismissed. Slowly but surely, Kaminari and Sero break off and slink towards the kitchen, and Ashido quietly pulls out her phone. She begins walking, nose down, towards her usual couch spot. Already texting. 

Kirishima hesitates. 

It’s a habit that Bakugou’s noticed Kirishima does. He never simply makes a choice, he always has to doubt himself first. It’s goddamn annoying. Especially considering how much more capable Red Riot would be as a hero if he just turned off his brain for three fucking seconds. 

The two remaining Bakusquad members hold eye contact for a moment. Kirishima blinks first. He then walks away, towards the kitchen, looking lost. 

Bakugou heads to the elevators. 

••

Upon opening the door to his dorm room, kicking it closed, and turning the lock, Bakugou’s first case of action is to flop facedown onto his bed with his bag still hanging off one shoulder. 

This is not nearly as satisfying as he hoped it would be. His sheets and bedspread smell like a greenhouse that was lit on fire, with the normal caramel smell gone. Katsuki should really wash these. But the laundry room means common area, and common area means possible human interaction, and that was simply not a risk Bakugou was willing to take. 

So he laid there for ten minutes or so. Zoning out. Ignoring the pile of homework sprawled out next to him and the occasional flashes of light coming through his window that signified someone was sparring on the front lawn. Probably Bellybutton and someone else. He tends to partner with Animal Boy. Gives him closer range target practice. 

Regardless, that’s not really something Bakugou cares about. 

He sighs an Aizawa esque sigh-- gross-- tired and a bit resigned. But, nonetheless, Katsuki rolls over onto his back and grabs his laptop from its spot next to him, booting it up to work on that paper due in a few days for quirk history. 

After a good hour of typing, meaning it was around 4:45, Bakugou’s phone buzzed. He intended on ignoring it, but the buzzing was insistent. Ping after ping going off. 

It was the 1-A group chat. Sato was asking if there were any dinner requests for tonight since apparently he and Oijirou had done a grocery run the day before. They were stocked up enough for a group meal. 

Most of the responses follow the lines of “Anything you make is fine!” and “We appreciate whatever you’re willing to cook!” or even “Do you want help?” 

This new development was both a blessing and a curse for Bakugou. A blessing because it seems like everyone would be occupied for at least an hour. But a curse because they’d all be in the common area if Bakugou went downstairs to get food. 

He’s getting pretty hungry after a day or so of low consumption. 

The chat continues to buzz, and Bakugou considers leaving it. He then remembers that last time he tried, at least eight people immediately added him back. And so, Bakugou settles for the “Do Not Disturb” button.

Upon moving from his bed to his desk, Bakugou is able to get the day’s homework done, as well as work a bit ahead for later in the week. Satisfied, he checks the clock on his desk. 6:30. 

They’re definitely at least cooking by now. Katsuki’s stomach growls at the thought. 

Doordash isn’t an option as unauthorized personnel are not allowed on campus. Plus, he’d have to go downstairs to get his food. There’s a few Cliff bars in his desk drawer, but Katsuki gets through those in under five minutes. 

If he can just hold out until 10:00, the dishes will probably be done by then and everyone will be in their rooms. That leaves a window open to raid the fridge for leftovers. Or, at least an apple. At this point, Katsuki would settle for an apple. 

It’s annoying. He knows he has to keep his energy and strength up. Especially with hero training tomorrow. If they’re sparring or doing something involving physical exertion, Katsuki is fucked if he doesn’t get at least one good meal in. 

At 8:00, there is a knock on his door. Katsuki had just finished setting an alarm for 10 so he could go to bed at his normal time, sleep for an hour, and then wake up to get food. He was so close to not having to deal with anybody. 

Bakugou ignores the first knock. And hits the sleep button on his phone when he sees a text silently pop up in his notifications. And the second knock. 

The last straw is a piece of paper being slipped under the crack at the bottom of the door. 

“I brought you food” 

The handwriting is messy. Chicken scratch that looks as if when the first few characters were written, the creator of the note was trying to be fancy, then later gave up and reverted to their old handwriting. 

Katsuki opens the door to see a plate from the kitchen loaded down with food. Everything appears to have a good amount of spicy sauces or crushed red pepper topping it. The blond peers out into the hallway, checking to make sure no one was there, before grabbing the plate and shutting his door once again. Throwing the note with Deku’s handwriting in his trash can as he sits back down at his desk. 

The food tastes great until it starts to get a hint of rose flavoring

Chapter Text

No one knows what to do with him. This was a fact before Katsuki contracted the flower
quirk/maybe-Hanahaki-but-probably-not-because-love-is-stupid. Now, though, confusion over how to treat him seemed to be enhanced.

No one wants to fight with him during battle assessments for hero training. Again, not necessarily weird, but that’s usually because his opponent doesn’t want to get their ass beat.

Not because some idiots are worrying about his health.

It’s vaguely reminiscent of the first few days where Bakugou was back at class after his luxury overnight stay with the League. The only one’s treating him normally are Aizawa (bearly, he won’t stop fucking staring) and, oddly enough, Bird Boy. That doesn’t solve Katsuki needing a sparring partner, though. Neither Bakugou or Tokoyami get much out of a nearly instant win for Katsuki. The brightness from his explosions makes the shadow thing (what was it called? Doom shadow? Edgy shadow? Shadow? Something with shadow) freak the fuck out.

Even Birdy’s quirk is goth.

Sulking, Bakugou sits on the sidelines of the battle currently taking place. (Pink Cheeks vs Alien. A battle of the pinks.) It’s a surprisingly even matchup, considering both trainees specialize in longer-range attacks. Ashido is continuously shooting acid to deflect projectiles sent her way via Uraraka. One of them will need to break down and take the chance to get in close. They’ll just tire themselves into a stalemate otherwise.

He continues to analyze the scene, taking mental notes on the developments in both of their strategies. A work study has given massive improvement to Deku’s sidekick. Even Katsuki has to admit that. And yet, Ashido is still matching her pretty well. It’s clear that despite Uraraka’s clear advantage, Ashido has more confidence in her abilities.

The match continues on, and Bakugou continues analyzing. Not far away from where he’s standing, Deku’s mumbling a similar analysis under his breath. He’s still loud enough for everyone to hear, as the nerd seems to have zero comprehension of what whispering is, or, better yet, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Katsuki allows himself to eavesdrop for a few seconds, just to check and make sure Deku isn’t missing something. Bakugou is superior intellectually, and he was simply checking to make sure that was still true. He didn’t want or need to hear the nerd’s insight.

Ochaco finally makes her move, charging in as quickly as she can and attempting to levitate the rock Mina’s been standing on. It somewhat works, the rock floats up, but Mina simply leaps off of it and back to the ground, sending a nasty shot of acid that melts away the armour on Ochaco’s shoulder. It was a predictable move, even for Pink Cheeks.

Bakugou assumes that’s the end of it and Ashido will finish the job. But Uraraka surprises him. She’d kept the rock floating even after getting hit (something she DEFINITELY was not capable of even a few weeks ago) and, while Ashido is still distracted, drops it back down onto Mina. Or, rather, stops it millimeters from crushing the alien’s head and holding it there. They both look to Aizawa for the nod that signifies Uraraka’s victory. It happens, and Mina groans while Ochaco jumps up in the air, pumping her fist.

The class congratulates both participants, telling them about things that they were impressed by, and then Aizawa begins reading out his notes on the battle and the floor opens for discussion.

“Ashido,”

“Yes sir?”

“You’re more than just a gun that shoots acid. Use the rest of your body in fights. Keeping a distance may keep you safe, but it also doesn’t reprimand your opponent. You have the fire power. Just focus on close range for the rest of this week’s training.”

“You got it!”

Bakugou rolls his eyes at Mina’s enthusiasm. She reminds him of a toddler. You can push it over, and it’ll cry. But seconds later it’s back to babbling.

“Uraraka.”

“Hmm?”

“That move only worked because no one was aware you had worked on stamina training. If you were unable to hold up the rock after taking a hit, not only would you have endangered someone’s life, but it would simply be a repeat of the sports festival against Bakugou,” Aizawa gestures in his general direction, and Bakugou folds his arms. “An ultimate move only works when it’s rare.”

“Yes, sir.”

It’s funny. Mina’s the one who lost and yet she seems to be in a better mood.

“Does anyone have any additional critiques?” A pause. Deku raises his hand. Typical. “Midoriya. Go ahead. But keep it concise, please.”

“Oh, um, okay! I just wanted to mention that Ashido did have the option to use a close-range attack safely. She just didn’t use it.”

Most of 1-A looks to Deku in confusion. The corner of Aizawa’s mouth quirks upward slightly. Bakugou rolled his eyes, but made sure to pay attention. The idiot was imagining things and he wanted to watch as Aizawa shut him down.

“Elaborate.”

“When Ashido jumped off of the rock Uraraka was levitating, she chose a longer range attack by shooting acid as she was landing!” Deku’s eyes are shining brightly, and his hands clenched into fists. He’s like an excited puppy when he talks about battle strategies. Calm the hell down, idiot. “If Ashido would have simply kicked out her left leg, it would have hit Uraraka’s head. That, when unexpected, would have been an easy wipe out. Acid to finish the blow” Deku looks like he’s vibrating off of the ground, and his voice keeps rising in pitch.”Oh!! Or, even better! Ashido!” Deku turns to Mina.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever considered instead of shooting your acid, surrounding your hand in it and throwing a punch? Can your quirk do that? From my basic understanding, the acid comes from your fingertips, so, if energy was focused into a singular hand it could be excreted into the palm of a hand and used as an enhancement for a basic punch….of course you’d have to build up arm strength a bit more but you already have the agility so--”

“Thank you, Midoriya.” Aizawa cuts him off. “Very insightful. Ashido, look into working with someone in class who does short range strength. Kirishima would be ideal. His hardening would be able to handle an acidic punch.”

“Okay! Thanks, Deku!! I’ve never thought about that! I’ve always considered it more of a hose…” Mina trails off.

“Of course! I’d love to sit in on that quirk training sometime so I could take further notes on--”

“Midoriya.” Aizawa says it like it’s a sigh.

“Oh! Sorry,” Deku’s face contorts into an apologetic smile and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. Katsuki watches as Uraraka stares at him with heart eyes. He’s so dense. Wouldn’t be able to tell someone was in love with him even if they straight up told him. Not that anyone besides Pink Cheeks would ever want to be with him.

Bakugou’s face contorts into a cringe at the idea of Deku kissing somebody.

There’s a few more matches, Birdboy and Ponytail have a hell of a fight. Ponytail pulled through in the end by creating fireworks to shoot at uhhh...Weird shadow? But not after taking a hell of a beating. Pikachu takes out invisible girl with more effort than it should have required. Apparently it’s hard to judge and create appropriate, non-lethal voltage when you can’t see your opponent.

Of course, Midoriya has an essay and a half to say about each of the matches.

Bakugou, in one final effort, when it’s announced that they have time for one more matchup, yells something along the lines of “ARE YOU ALL TOO SCARED TO TAKE ME ON? HUH?” He puffs out his chest subconsciously, as if trying to appear bigger to the classmates who were treating him like he was made of glass.

Katsuki looks to Tokoyami, who shakes his head apologetically. Too tired to take him on after what Yaoyorozu did to him. At least he has an excuse.

Bakugou then makes eye contact with Aizawa and immediately regrets it. He fucking hates when his teacher gives him that weird dad look. Katsuki doesn’t even like the dad he has, why would he want a second one? Gross. Stick to your daughter.

“Would someone please take on Bakugou? We’re running out of class time.”

Well now that you made it mandatory, maybe I don’t want to fight someone? The person who gets their ass kicked by me has to be in it to win it, or it’s not fun.

Bakugou holds his tongue.

“I’ll do it, if no one else wants to. “ Bakugou whips his head around to face the owner of the voice that just reluctantly piped up.”Are you okay with that, Kacchan?”

“Whatever. Let’s go.”

• • •

Katsuki absolutely hates to admit it, but Deku is one of the only students in the class who can match him. Half and Half, as well as Ponytail, both put up a good fight, but not in the same way Deku does. Fighting Deku is like trying to fight a robot version of himself. His opponent is able to guess every single move he’s gonna make.

His weekly fights with Kirishima are fun, yes. But absolutely nothing compares to the back and forth blows that he and Deku are able to trade. They come as easy as their well practiced arguing. Better than arguing. Katsuki thinks as he sends an explosion at the back of Deku’s head. In an argument you can’t beat the shit out of someone.

This fight isn’t fun like normal.

Deku is going easy on him, and it’s making Katsuki mad.

He’s not sure if Deku’s babying him because of the flower cough, or if it’s because he thinks that Katsuki isn’t even worth his time anymore after Deku ended up winning in that after curfew showdown. It doesn’t really matter which reason it is. Bakugou will win. He’s not about to lose to this dweeb twice in a row. He has never lost twice in a row.

Deku comes at him with a kick that Katsuki knows is half-assed. Grabbing Deku’s foot before it makes contact with his ribs and making an explosion burn up those special shoes support course made the nerd is so fluidly easy, Baugou thinks he must be daydreaming. There is no fucking way anyone who deserves to be in class 1-A would throw away a match like this. He screams in frustration and blasts himself high up into the air. Deku, crackling with energy, follows.

Once again, the movement is too easy. Bakugou easily blasts himself into Deku’s side, and aims an arm upward so a blast will slam them back into the ground, successfully giving him the win.

They’re falling towards the ground quickly, and land in the predicted position. Midoriya on his back, Bakugou standing over him, a boot planted firmly on Deku’s chest.

Deku rolls, grimacing, and Bakugou lets him escape the hold. Taking his boot away and placing it back on solid ground so that he’s simply standing there. Deku jumps up, feigning that he’s trying to win, and red eyes meet green ones for a single second.

Fuck it. This is stupid. Waste of my goddamn time.

“Uncle.”

It’s probably the first time during hero training that Bakugou has ever said something in a normal tone of voice. Every single side conversation or discussion stops. Even Aizawa’s eyes widen. You could hear a pin drop in the confused silence that follows the single word.

“Ka--” Deku opens his mouth, gaping with this dumb confused expression on his face. He looks like an idiot. Which he is.

“I said,” Bakugou growls back at his opponent. “I’m tapping out. I’m not gonna fight someone if they’re going to be a fucking pussy about--”

“That’s enough Bakugou.” Aizawa seems to have snapped back to reality, turning back to the dumbfounded class. “Bakugou concedes. Midoriya wins the match. Does anyone have any critiques?”

Once again, there is silence.

Or, maybe there’s not. All Bakugou can hear is the sound of blood rushing in his ears as he angrily walks out of the battle zone. The bell rings. Or, maybe not.

The class walks to the locker rooms, and the silence lingers. Blanketing everything so that no one dares speak above a whisper.

•••

In the locker room, conversation slowly rumbles back to life as everyone changes out of hero costumes and back into school uniforms. Grapes says something to Tail. Tail ignores him. Sato and Kouda are trading a water bottle back and forth. Teacher’s Pet is making his way towards the shower.

Bakugou waits patiently for the locker room to mostly clear out, ignoring the weird glances from Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero as they change relatively quickly. Once things are mostly clear, Katsuki shucks off his tank top and cringes at the weird rope burn scars that healed funny from being tied up at the League hideout.

One re-application of deodorant later and he’s already got an undershirt on again. And yet Deku still squeaks as if he’s seen Katsuki naked when he walks in the door.

Shit. He must have hung back and talked to Aizawa.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, but slows down his movements. Buttoning his shirt much slower than usual and actually tying his tie as an attempt to stall for time. He’s pulling his uniform jacket on when Deku looks around and realizes the two of them are the only ones left. There is once again eye contact, and, in what feels like a millisecond, there is a scuffle. Bakugou ends up with Deku against some lockers, pinned there by both Katsuki’s arms on his shoulders.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou snarls, momentarily removing an arm from Deku’s left shoulder so he could punch the locker next to the dunce’s face.

“Kacchan, you surrendered. I don’t know what you’re--”

“BULLSHIT!” Another slam of the lockers. Katsuki’s hands are shaking. “Do you think you’re better than me or something? Is that what this is? The Rent-A-Quirk committee raise your self esteem?!”

“Kacchan you need to be quiet about--”

“I KNOW!” Bakugou’s voice cracks. “I’VE KEPT IT--I’ve kept it a better secret than you have you fucking--GOD.”

Deku looks like a deer in headlights. Simply standing straight as a board, not daring to move. Katsuki takes a breath.

“I know you think you’re better. I know you think I’m weak. Because of what happened before. Because of what’s happening now,” Bakugou grimaces, looking Deku in the eyes. “But don’t fucking forget--” A breath. Shaky. “You are only worth something because he let you be.”

Katsuki releases Deku, who is still staring, dumbfounded, and then walks towards the locker room door. It cracks open, and Katsuki turns around once more to face Midoriya.

“Next time, since you’re so confident...fight me like you mean it. Nerd.”

The door shuts before he can hear Deku’s response.

• • •

It’s evening, and someone is knocking on Katsuki’s door. He finished his homework hours ago, and has simply been sulking with a brief intermission to cough up some more blood soaked flowers. 43 petals and 6 buds this time around. One of the worst fits yet.

Bakugou is laying in his bed, scrolling through the news on his phone and still recovering from the bout when the knocking began. He wants to yell “go away” or something of the like. But yelling doesn’t seem to be in the picture right now.

Someone picks his lock.

He hears it click and he hears the frantic murmurs from directly outside. Multiple voices. And then his door swings open and reveals four idiots, nervously smiling.

“Heyyyyyy Kacchannnn...how’s it hanging?” Kaminari throws finger-guns.

“You have ten seconds to fix the lock and shut the damn door.” Bakugou can once again hear the hoarseness in his voice, and, evidently, so can the dumbasses. Kirishima and Ashido wince.

“Oh, shut up you big baby,” Mina waltzes into his room like she owns the place, immediately heading to the glass door that leads to his balcony and pulling back the blinds to let evening light pour in.”It smells like ass in here.”

“You’re not even allowed in this wing.” Bakugou challenges.

Ashido snorts and plops herself down in his desk chair, spinning it around.

“Wasn’t aware you were such a sucker for the rules, Blasty.” She grins. Bakugou throws a pillow at her.

“We brought you a milkshake from that place you like,” Kirishima holds out a paper bag Bakugou hadn’t previously noticed. “It’s the dark chocolate orange one.”

Katsuki nods his approval and sits up, grunting as an acknowledgement of thanks and taking the bag. There are some convenience store snacks that he likes in there as well.

“What do you want?” Bakugou sighs.

“Whaaaaa? Can’t we just do something nice for our favorite angry boy?” Sero looks off to the side as he says it, clearly insinuating that there is, in fact, a purpose to their visit beyond food delivery.

“Well, the milkshake is because of your throat,” Mina is kicking her feet out casually in front of her, still spinning in the chair. She looks to be getting dizzy. “And we read a bit about what you have and it said that sore throat is one of the only treatable symptoms so--”

Bakugou takes a sip. It tastes amazing. He pauses.

“Repeat that last sentence.” He orders, still chewing on his straw, eyes narrowing.

“Uhh, she said sore throat is one of the treatable symptoms.” Kaminari suggests.

“No. Before that.”

“The milkshake is for your throat?”

“NO. The other thing.”

Silence. Bakugou takes another sip. Staring daggers at them all.

Kirishima sighs and decides to take the bullet.

“She said we read about what you have.”

“Get out.”

“Bakugou, dude, listen--”

“Get. Out. Get out or I blow your asses up. I don’t have Hanahaki. It’s someone's quirk.”

“Blasty, you can talk to us--”

“I SAID GET OUT!”

Katsuki immediately regrets screaming. It feels like his throat is being torn up from the inside. His eyes water. That fact stings worse than his throat does. Involuntarily, he coughs lightly. A petal floats down from his lips and lands on the milkshake lid.

Ashido looks like she’s about to cry. He’s never seen that before. She’s about to cry and it’s Bakugou’s fault. Most people crying is Bakugou’s fault these days. It’s kind of his thing. She sniffles, and immediately Pikachu is at her side, patting her shoulder. She shrugs him off and clenches her pink fists.

“Fine.” Her voice is cold. “If we’re leaving, give us the milkshake back.”

That fucking bitch. I will kill her. I will eliminate her bloodline.

“Well?” She holds out her hand, opening and closing her palm once. “If you don’t have Hanahaki and you just have some flower quirk, you shouldn’t need a throat soother. So, give us back the milkshake. I paid for it. So it’s technically mine anyways.”

“Actually, I paid for the--”

Three voices, un unison, turn to Kaminari and yell ‘SHUT UP.”

“It’s got my mouth germs on it.”

“...And?” Ashido challenges. “Do you have cooties or some shit? Why would I care?”

“I don’t want your shitty saliva touching something my saliva has touched.”

“Bakugou Katsuki I have given you your options. Give us the milkshake, or let us help you. Stop being such a brat--”

The milkshake ignites in Katsuki’s hand, chocolate splattering everywhere.

“Don’t call me that.”

• • •

Katsuki is six years old and he is outside, chasing a butterfly. The net handle doesn’t quite fit in his small chubby hand. Through an open kitchen window, he can hear screaming. The usual arguments. Things Katsuki doesn’t understand.

The neighborhood kids were all busy today. Even Deku. Which is a shame, because his quirk should be showing up any day now. Maybe, it’ll be something that works well with explosions. Katsuki would love a sidekick.

He continues daydreaming about heroes and sidekicks, as well as the newest hero on the scene, All Might. He’ll be number one soon for sure.

It’s almost easy, running around the yard with a butterfly net, pretending to be All Might catching villains. Saving the day. Deku would cheer for him. So would Inko. And maybe even Katsuki’s own mother. The little boy grins.

“BRAT! COME INSIDE! NOW!”

For part of his cognitive childhood, Katsuki thought that his name was brat. He’d never admit that, now. It made him seem dumb. He’d already embarrassed himself enough from the time his kindergarten teacher had asked him his name and he had said “Bakugou Brat.”

His mother had not been happy with the call home she had received.

And so, Katsuki waddled inside nervously after setting the butterfly net back in the shed.

“Yes momma?”

“What is this?” Mitsuki gestured to a piece of paper, waving it in front of her son. “It just came in the mail.”

“S’my report card.”

“And what is this?” She points to a specific marking.

“S’a B.”

Mitsuki hits Katsuki upside the head with the rolled up report card.

“I did not raise a son who is second best.”

Later that night, after the yelling and threats, the crying, the being yelled at for crying, and dinnertime, Mitsuki tucked Katsuki into bed.

“Who loves you?”

“Momma.”

“Good. And do you love momma?”

“Ye.”

“That’s right,” Mitsuki said it serenely, as she did every night, when the same quiz was given to her son at the same time. “Get some sleep, brat. You’ve got things to do in the morning.”

• • •

There’s dark chocolate orange milkshake dripping all down Katsuki’s arms. Ashido is no longer putting on a serious front. She looks genuinely worried. Kaminari is twiddling his thumbs, pretending that Bakugou’s black rug was super interesting. Sero fiddles with a piece of tape. It’s Kirishima who, once again, finally steps forward.

He sits down on the bed beside Bakugou, reaches into the bag, and pulls out some napkins. There aren’t nearly enough, but all the same, Kirishima begins to use them to wipe chocolate off of Katsuki’s arms. He allows it. It’s not as weird as the last time he exploded a drink on himself. Which, now that he thinks of it, is becoming a habit he needs to break.

Slowly, the other members of the group start wiping up chocolate from places as well. Kaminari uses his sleeve to clean a wall. Ashido walks into Bakugou’s bathroom and grabs a wet towel to help with Katsuki’s arms. She ignores the raised toilet seat and the dried rose petals on the floor. Sero is helping Kirishima strip Bakugou’s bedsheets.

They needed a wash anyways.

Once all of the dirty towels and sheets were in a laundry basket, the five all sat down, in a row, on Bakugou’s bare mattress.

I’m not a brat. I’m not.

“I don’t have Hanahaki.” Katsuki says once more. His tone of voice is much calmer. He’s not quite sure who he’s talking to. He’s not really sure he’s talking to anyone at all. Maybe just himself.

“How can you be so sure?” Kirishima asks it gently, testing the waters.

“I don’t love anyone.”

The squad of four seems to take in a collective breath. Bakugou’s gone and made it weird again. He knows he has. He always does.

“How do you know?” Kaminari makes his obligatory attempt at conversation.

“I think I’d know if I loved someone, idiot.”

“Sometimes, you don’t at first,” Ashido ventures. “Sometimes you don’t know for months and then you sit back one day and realize ‘this person is my home.’”

“Pack it up, Shakespere.” Sero jabs. Katsuki snorts, and his throat aches.

“Hey, I’m being serious for once!” Ashido insists. “It’s possible that Blasty doesn’t know! Here, while we’re on a roll, let’s reverse it. So that you can understand what it could feel like!” Ashido is back to toddler mode now. Excited and bubbling.

“You don’t need to give me love lessons, Alien. I’m fine.”

“Alright, then this will prove you’re fine! Let me ask, and then if you don't want to talk about it, we can leave you be. Maybe you can think about it. Fester in the implications!” She wiggles her fingers at that last part. What an idiot.

“Tch. Whatever.”

“YAY!!!’ Ashido cheers. She knows indifference is a form of agreement when it comes to Katsuki. “Okay, here we go: Bakugou, who loves you?”

Momma. Momma loves me. She just needs me to be better. I have to be better so that she’ll love me even more. Deku’s mom loves him so much. He’s better. You’ll never be as good as him. You’re second best.

And he doesn’t even have a quirk.

“I don’t know.” Is his final answer.

Chapter Text

I don’t know.

There’s a deafening quiet that falls over the group as Katsuki’s friends turn and face him, then each other, looking back and forth like the group of idiots they are. After a few seconds of weird telepathic eye contact, the four sitting around Katsuki nod. 

“Well, I, for one, love you Baku!” Pikachu stands up from his spot on the mattress to face Katsuki, dramatically offering his hand in a weird gesture that mimics a crude parody of courtship. 

“Die.” 

“Oh, what the hell? I love you too, dude. In like, a bro way, yanno? You’re a good guy. I care about you.” Is Tape Boy’s response, which seems a lot more rational.There’s no standing. He doesn’t even look Katsuki in the eyes when he says it. He just stares at the wall in front of him.

And yet Katsuki thinks it’s the first time in years anyone has ever genuinely said it. 

“And you know I love you, right blasty? I love you enough to buy you a milkshake…”

“Bro I’m not lying I was the one who-- ”

“SHUT UP KAMINARI”

Bakugou has to hold back his smirk as Ashido punches Pikachu in the arm. 

“I love you, too, man. Just like they do.” Kirishima’s tone is the softest. Like he’s talking to a child. And yet, for the first time since this whole shitshow began, Katsuki doesn’t feel babied.

He feels….loved?

“...Okay.” Is Katsuki’s final response. 

“Don’t you love us back? huh baku-babe?” Kaminari’s got a shit eating grin on his face, and it’s making Katsuki question the warm feeling he has.

“ Definitely not you, Pikachu. I really don’t know about the other three dipshits. Scotch tape is on thin ice.”

“Hey! Why am I on thin ice?!” 

  “Have you looked in a mirror lately? When was the last time you showered? When was the last time you ate a vegetable? You’re a goddamn mess.” 

“Says the guy who’s vomiting plants.”

There is a pause as Sero nervously waits for his demise by making a joke about something that’s clearly sensitive. It was definitely the wrong move, as Bakugou’s mood instantly sours. His expression goes back to cold and unreadable. 

“Next time we’re outside I’ll push you into the ground so hard that you’ll start shitting grass. How’s that for plant vomit?”

“Okay, too soon. I get it.” 

“Bakugou,” Ashido interjects, “Are you eating dinner downstairs tonight? You haven’t been in the commons in, like, three days. People miss you grumping up the place.”

“Pass,” Katsuki stands up from his mattress spot and stretches his arms above his head. “You guys go ahead. I’m going for a walk.” 

His friends seem excited at the idea of him leaving his room, so they let Katsuki skip dinner again. The five of them pile into the elevator and ride it down to the main floor. 

It’s weird being in the commons when there’s people around. It’s been a while. Once again reminding Bakugou of the feeling he got after returning from the League. There’s nice lighting, so Katsuki isn’t surprised to see many students sprawled out on the floor instead of at tables, each with their own patch of sunlight. 

A few people nod at him or wave awkwardly as Katsuki separates from his group of idiots and heads towards the front door. He barely registers Frog Bitch asking where he’s going. 

“I’ve got something I need to do.” He quips at her, startling himself, because when Asui usually tries to talk to him he yells in her face. She seems to be just as surprised to get a normal response, and the two stand there for a second, looking at each other, before Katsuki breaks the prolonged eye contact and saunters out the front door.

••

He doesn’t actually have anything he needs to do. Which is fine by him. Katsuki definitely needs some time to think about some shit. Walking around the grounds as the sun slinks lower and lower on the horizon seems like a good time to do that. 

It’s strange, Bakugou thinks, how easily his friends threw around the word love. He hadn’t done anything to earn their love. He certainly hadn’t been trying. They were probably lying, then. Trying to convince him that he’s got the love flower. They want him to get that surgery or whatever. They think he’s going to die.

“I can practically hear the gears turning in your head, young Bakugou.” 

Katsuki whips around, and doesn’t decide which expletive to use in time so he ends up simply blurting out a strangled sound. 

“Did I scare you? Sorry. I thought you heard me approach.” The shell of All Might rubs the back of his neck. So that’s where Deku got it . 

“Wasn’t scared. Just surprised.” 

All Might laughs a full belly laugh that would probably sound cool if he was in his muscle form. But he isn’t. So it comes out more like a smoker having a coughing fit.

He’s like this because of you. You did this.

“Shota tells me you’ve come down with something, no?”

“Does he know you use his first name?” 

“You’re as spunky as ever,” All Might ignores his question. “I was worried you would have lost your drive. Although, maybe not, since you’re not having it removed. So, when will you tell the lucky...person?” 

Bakugou simply stares at All Might. His expression is blank. He turns away again.

“I don’t have Hanahaki.” 

All Might frowns. 

Bakugou is good at making people frown. 

“And why is that, boy?”

“I don’t love anyone.”

“Of course you do. You love your friends, don’t you?”

There it was again. 

“Why do people keep lying to me and saying that friends love each other?” Katsuki sighs. His usual bite is replaced with a groan.

“Do you...not? Love your friends? They sure love you. Young Midoriya is always speaking highly of you.”

“My friends don’t love me.” 

All Might frowns again. Bakugou is on a roll.

“Why wouldn’t they?”

I’m a failure. I’m a coward. I put everyone in danger over the summer. I got kidnapped and couldn't escape without help. I’m not the best at anything. I’m weak. I’m shitty. A shitty person. A hero is supposed to make people smile and feel safe but all I do is make them cry. 

“I’ve done nothing to earn it.” Is the answer Katsuki finally gives. 

“Who taught you love is something you have to earn?” 

“Hah?” 

“Who? Who told you that?” All might crouches down a bit so that he and Katsuki are eye level. “Have you gone your whole life thinking you had to earn the right to be treated well?” 

“Stop playing weird mind games with me, stick man.” 

“Young Bakugou, I am expressing genuine concern for--”

“I don’t love anybody. No one loves me. I haven’t done anything to make people want to love me. No one’s done anything to make me love them. End of story.” A pregnant pause. “I don’t have Hanahaki.” 

Why Katsuki felt the need to continuously reiterate this is a mystery to even himself. It seemed to be a mantra. 

“What you have, young Bakugou, is around two and a half weeks.” 

Bakugou swings a right hook that All Might easily dodges. He gives Katsuki such a sad, pitying look that it makes the younger want to scream. And blow things up. And kick ass. Villain ass, preferably, but at this point anyone who comes in his path will do. 

“Bakugou,” All Might sounds stern as he dodges the continuing  hits “If this were a quirk, especially one that affected you through a touch from a pedestrian, wouldn’t it have worn off by now?”

Katsuki hesitates, then turns on his heel and starts walking away from All Might. Towards the running track farther into campus, going anywhere but here. 

“Have you gone your whole life thinking you had to earn the right to be treated well?”

Fuck off. 

••

So maybe Bakugou had gone his whole life thinking he had to earn the right to be treated well. This is the conclusion he comes to while running around campus, trying to work off some steam from the conversation with All Might.

 That’s how his parents had raised him, and he’d turned out just fine thank you very much. He wasn’t a little bitchboy, he could balance school and training and badassery well. He was top of the class, practically guaranteed a spot in his year’s big three. There was absolutely nothing to complain about and he got love from his parents because of it….right? 

“Does my mom love me?” 

It's a weird question to ask yourself. A mom has to love her kid. It’s her fucking job. But from what Katsuki’s heard lately, it can come in different forms. “Is my mom proud of me?” No. “Does my mom think highly of me?” No. “But does my mom love me?” Yes???

Katsuki isn’t even sure of what that means. 

He definitely doesn’t feel the way he feels towards his mom about anybody in his class. But that wouldn’t make sense regardless. Katsuki has no interest in kissing his mom. 

Is there anyone I’d have interest in kissing? Katsuki wonders, mentally reviewing his classmates in his head.

He can’t even see invisible bitch. Froggy is a definite no . Raccoon Eyes? He mentally categorizes her as a solid maybe. Ponytail was a badass, but she’s a snob. So, no. Headphones seems pretty chill. She can be a maybe. 

Pink Cheeks? 

Katsuki reviews footage in his memory of her almost beating him at the sports festival. And then comes the footage of her staring at Deku. Swooning over Deku. Following Deku. Worshipping the goddamn ground Deku walks upon. 

No.

So it was between Alien and Headphones. 

But that would be only if he has Hanahaki. Which he most certainly does not.  

Katsuki’s run had been alright. It had been good to work off some anger. Katsuki has more of that than usual. He’d seen Aizawa walking with Mic and Eri near some of the flowerbeds the school had spread out over campus. He couldn’t hear what they were saying. Bakugou didn’t understand why Aizawa spent so much time with Mic. His kid was gonna get confused. 

Regardless, that was when there were still hints of daylight. It was closing in on Katsuki’s 9:00 bedtime now. He’d eaten the convenience store snacks the idiots had brought him as a dinner, and was now patiently waiting for what he hoped was his last batch of flower petals before the day was through. 

Eventually, the petals did come. Sixty four of them. Why Katsuki feels the need to count, he has no idea. Maybe to ground himself. 

The tightness in his lungs was the tiniest  bit worse than normal.  Whatever normal was when it comes to this.  Thoughts of sludge faded in and out of the flashes of conversations Katsuki’s mind kept trying to analyze.

“Sometimes you don’t know for months and then you sit back one day and realize ‘this person is my home.’”

“Have you gone your whole life thinking you had to earn the right to be treated well?” 

“Well,” a shit eating grin “I, for one, love you Baku!” 

And, finally, “ Wouldn’t it have worn off by now?”

Fuck.

That night’s google searches were even more frustrating.

“Longest time someone has continuously activated their quirk for when using it on someone”

“Villains with the highest quirk stamina”

“How long do plant based quirks last”

“Longest lasting quirk effects”

“How long will I vomit flowers for if I got hit by a flower vomit quirk?”

…

…

...

“All Might interview funny moments Youtube”

Bakugou, while laying in his blessedly clean bed, tossed and turned from worry at the ungodly hour of 9:45 PM, and grappled with the idea that he is completely clueless about something. 

And usually, when clueless, he’d just research something. But this was turning up nothing.

Step two was to ask the teacher.

Bakugou closes the google app on his phone and pulls up his contacts, scrolling through the “A”  names before finding what he was looking for. He was unsure if this counted as an emergency, but it was his best bet right now that didn’t involve talking about feelings with the piss brigade. 

The call rings once.

Please don’t answer so I don’t have to go through with this.

  Twice.

I am begging every deity to please spare me from this conversation.

Three times. And then connects.

“Hello?” 

“If anyone finds out I called you, I’m coming for your ass.”

“Oh, Bakugou. It’s you.”Aizawa notes in lieu of a real response.

“Yeah.”

“.....”

“............”

“Did you….need something? I only gave you kids this number in case of emergencies so if this can wait... I’ve got some things to get back to.”

“I have Hanahaki disease.” 

“....Yes. I know. We all know.”

“I’m going to die in 2 and a half weeks.”

“ No. You’re going to tell whoever she is how you feel. Or, get the flower removed.”

“No.” 

“No to... which option ?” Aizawa’s voice sounds weird through a phone. There’s also a lot of background noise on his end. “I’ve got things to get back to.” A Family, probably. Love.

I am not getting rid of the only love I have ever experienced.

“The second one.”

“So you’ll tell her.”

“ No fucking way.”

“Bakugou, did Kaminari give you something? If he’s dealing on school property--”

“M’not high. I just--can’t tell her.” 

“Why not? I think your life is more important than a rejection.” Oh my god I forgot the person can reject me. Of course she’d reject me. “ Calm down. I can hear your breathing speeding up.” 

“I don’t know who she is.” Katsuki mumbles into the phone. He’s unsure if Aizawa would even be able to understand what he had said. Regardless, he wasn’t going to repeat it. 

“I’m putting you on speakerphone. I need both hands to feed the cat.”

“You have a cat ?” 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant. Especially since I am humoring your very clearly ‘ not an emergency’ emergency call.” A pause. There’s a rustle on Aizawa’s end. “So you don’t know which girl it is? How does that happen?”

“I have it narrowed down. And I don’t fucking--”

“Language. You’re on speaker.”

“--I do not fuckity fucking  know. I didn’t know I had it and I don’t know who I love and I don’t know who loves me. I’m just a piece of shit idiot who can’t fucking--”

“Bad word.” A new voice sounds off of Aizawa’s end. It’s clearly Eri. She sounds a lot calmer than she usually does. Nervous but not quite as afraid. 

“Eri, go back to bed.” 

“‘Thirsty.”

“Did you knock over your green cup?” 

Aizawa’s voice sounds strange. It’s so much more gentle than Bakugou’s ever heard. It’s calm and easy--going. It feels soothing. 

“Papa spilled it.” 

Does she normally talk to people using third person?

“Okay, go get the cup from your room and we can fill it up for you. And then back to bed, ‘kay?”

“Okay, dad.” 

Bakugou has stayed quiet through the entire interaction, absolutely fascinated. Just as he thought things couldn’t get more bizarre, another voice sounds out. 

“Sho, are you still on the phone? Oh good, you set it down. I knocked over Eri’s water cup so she’s probably going to come in here and--”

Aizawa ends the call.

Was that fucking Presentation Michael? Why was he at Aizawa’s place? Why did Eri call him papa? What the fuck? 

They must be really good friends, raising a kid like that together . Bakugou concludes. Maybe, they even loved each other. Maybe friends can love each other. 

Maybe his friends love him. 

Bakugou falls asleep, and wakes up to three missed calls from Aizawa.

••

After classes the next day, Aizawa pulls Bakugou aside and makes him stay behind. It’s weird, since Katsuki didn’t even really mouth off more than usual today. He was too focused on constantly turning his head to stare at Jirou. 

“Bakugou,” Aizawa looks strained and almost nervous as he shuts the classroom door, solidifying that they were the only two inside. “Did you...happen to tell anyone about what you heard?”

“What was there to tell?”

“Okay, very supportive. Thanks.” He sounds sarcastic. There is an uncomfortable pause. “Anyways, did you? If you did I just need to know who. If this gets out to the news or tabloids UA could be shut down. Nezu put a lot of trust in us by allowing us to teach here and I would like to keep my job.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”  His teacher gives him a look of complete exasperation. Katsuki continues anyway. “Why would Nezu care if you’re raising Eri? Aren’t you like--her legal guardian now?” 

“Oh my god.” 

“What? Oi, don’t talk to me like I’m stupid!”

“You can go, Bakugou. ”

“Wh--”

“Go on back to the dorms. You’ve got a gir--you’ve got someone to find.”

“Both you and All Might have done that.”

“Hmm?”

“Everyone else says I need to tell a girl. All Might said person. You completely backtracked. I don’t get it.” 

“I would really prefer it if I were not the person to have this conversation with you. Whoever they are--”

“Who she is.”

“Bakugou, does the pronoun really matter?” 

Katsuki hesitates.

“Fuck if I know.” 

Aizawa looks about ready to slam his head against a wall and it’s pissing Bakugou off. His face contorts into various pained expressions. At one point it seems like he might be praying. Then, after one big breath and a huge sigh, Aizawa speaks again.

“Are you gay, Bakugou?”

What

“What?” 

“Gay. Homosexual. Attraction to the same gender rather than the opposite--”

“I know what gay means.” 

“It’s a simple question. You know I won’t judge you. And it would explain your unwillingness to confess to a girl.”

“What the fuck would you know about--”

“I have a husband, Bakugou.”

“ WHAT?!”

“Jesus Christ, kid. I am married to your English Language teacher. We are raising a child together. I called you in here to ensure that you hadn’t told anyone outside of UA. Clearly , I miscalculated your basic deduction skills .”

Bakugou stares open mouthed. Aizawa continues. 

“I am telling you this because you need to figure yourself out. You don’t even know who to confess to and you have a blatant refusal to remove the flower. Therefore, since I legally cannot override your insisting on being a fool, I’m just explaining an additional option you might not have considered.”

“That’s--I’m not .” 

I wouldn’t survive my mom’s wrath even if I was. I’d die either way. Flower or no flower.

“Bakugou.”

“ What ?” Katsuki snaps, completely exasperated at this point.

“I meant what I said. I’m not going to watch you die.” Aizawa takes a breath that sounds almost nervous. “I cannot change your choice, but I can provide motivation.”

“Get to the damn point.”

“If you don’t remove the flower, or tell someone soon, you’re expelled.”

“YOU CAN’T FUCKING DO THAT” Bakugou’s palms crackle. Aizawa remains unphased. 

“No casualties on UA records. You don’t get the pleasure of dying like a martyr or a hero in training.” No. “You’ll be just like everybody else.” 

“Fuck you.” Katsuki spat. 

“ Figure it out , Bakugou.” Kastuki prepares to storm out of the classroom. Another habit that is coming from Aizawa trying to parent him. “Oh, and if you need anything...you have my number.”

“Get bent .”

Well, he kind of already is bent. He’s not straight. 

Oh my god, Aizawa’s not straight. There are heroes who aren’t straight.

Weird.

••

Half-and-Half is kind of hot. Objectively speaking, of course. Literally, he is half hot. Figuratively, Katsuki has come to the conclusion that Todoroki is attractive. 

It feels like Aizawa made him ingest some sort of weird gay worm and it’s now wiggling around Bakugou’s stomach. 

He is now assessing every male he sees, and deciding if he finds them attractive. He does the same for girls, but that’s a bit different since he already has the girl list down to two. Ashido and Jirou. 

With boys, it’s much more complicated. 

Besides it being a complete gamble since he’s not gay , Katsuki has no idea what is and is not attractive for a man. He is basing everything off of instinct. There is no way in hell that Katsuki’s going to ask Mina about it. Both because she’s a contender and because she’s a blabbermouth. 

For the first time in a long while, Bakugou is actually sitting in the common area after finishing his homework. He’s curled up in the corner on a cozy chair and using the guise of being on his phone to scope out boys in his class. 

So far, he has eliminated Teacher’s Pet without even glancing at him. As far as Bakugou is concerned, he’d rather suffocate than go anywhere NEAR a mouth that goddamn annoying. Grape is also out for obvious reasons. Everyone else was still in the game. For some reason, it was a lot harder to narrow the boys down. 

In the end, Bakugou opens his notes app and begins listing.

NO:

Teacher’s Pet

Grapes

Kinda:

Mask

Tail

Bellybutton

Birdboy

Scotch Tape

Bake boy

Quiet

Hot:

Icyhot

Shitty Hair

Pikachu

He’s only got one name left, one he’s been avoiding, when his phone is snatched from his hand by Pikachu.

“OoOOoO, what’s this?” Kaminari singsongs, scrambling to get out of the way of a screaming Bakugou’s reach. “HOLY SHIT. GUYS. BAKUGOU WAS MAKING A 1-A HOT OR NOT!” 

That turns some heads. Kirishima’s in particular. Mina practically knocks over Tsuyu by running over to Kaminari so fast. Ochako’s interest also looks piqued. A few other faces turn in their direction as well when Bakugou screams 

“THAT IS NOT WHAT THAT IS”

“Aww, it’s written in code. I only recognize my own nickna--OH MY GOD YOU THINK I'M HOT ?!” 

Bakugou lunges at Kaminari while he’s distracted and snatches the phone back. Immediately deleting the note.

“This is betrayal. I can’t believe you think Kaminari’s hot. What about me?”

“Nah. Kiri, dude, you were on the hot list too,” Denki claps Kirishima on the shoulder. “There was only one other person I saw in the ‘hot’s tho, I wonder who icy-- NO FUCKING WAY ”

“SAY ANOTHER WORD AND I’LL BLAST YOUR BRAINS OUT!” For the most part, everyone else has begun to ignore the commotion, chalking up what was at one point gossip to regular bakusquad horseplay. 

Once Katsuki’s back in his dorm room for the night, he removes the note from his phone’s trash, changes Kaminari to “NO”, and then deletes the note again.

Chapter Text

Bakugou’s got it narrowed down for real now. The main contenders are Ashido and Jirou.the backups, on the off chance that it’s somehow a boy, are Kirishima, Tokoyami (he had advanced to the “hot” category. Don’t ask why as Katsuki isn’t exactly sure), and Todoroki. It’s got to be one of those. 

It fucking better be Is all Katsuki can think as he starts out his morning with a violent case of the flower vomits. Which is annoying, since he was up super late last night with the same issue.  He’s getting worse, which is fucking annoying.

Recovery Bitch had warned him this would happen. Hell, everyone seems to have warned him this would happen. There would be less and less  time in between the bouts of sickness as the love growing inside him will gain strength and eventually cut off his airways. 

Katsuki’s phone buzzes and his alarm sounds, signaling that it’s 6:00, his normal wakeup time. He considers texting Aizawa that he’s not coming in today, but missing another day of classes makes Katsuki’s chest tighten and stomach churn. His stomach would be churning anyway, since, well, flower barf. 

Either way, Katuski decided he’s going to class. Like hell he’s gonna let Ponytail pass him up in Quirk History.

He stumbles his way into his shower, in and out in six minutes (there’s no point in a deep clean with hero training again today). While toweling off, Katuski attempts to drown the taste of roses out with a generous helping of toothpaste and mouthwash. He is just as aggressive about dental hygiene as he is anything else. 

Because he’s the best. No cavities. No braces. No issues. The best patient his dentist ever had. Pretty badass.

He leaves his dorm and makes his way to the elevators. Bakugou is craving a coffee and he’s out of the pre-bottled stuff he normally stores under his bed. 

When the elevator doors open, Katsuki’s still running ahead of the pack. The common area is empty, spare for a few people who either never went to bed in the first place, or wake up at an even more ungodly hour than Bakugou does. 

There’s a lump of blankets on one of the communal couches, rising and falling steadily to indicate that there’s a body underneath it somewhere. Katuski approaches the pile while waiting for the coffee pot to brew. There wouldn’t be enough coffee for him and whoever else comes downstairs if Katsuki had simply used what was left in the pot from whoever rose earlier than him. They’d have to make new anyway if he wanted a second cup. So no, it’s not considerate. It’s simply self-sufficient. 

The blanket lump wriggles a bit as the body underneath it rolls over. Upon looking closer, there are notebooks and loose leaf sheets of paper strewn over the floor, as well as some stacked on where Bakugou assumes the lump’s chest is. 

If it’s Kaminari under here, he could have just asked me to help him study. Useless idiot won’t learn shit staying up by himself. 

Now annoyed with who he thinks is Kaminari, Bakugou pulls the blankets back and prepares to yell at the blond now that he’s released from his cocoon. 

It’s not Kaminari. 

Deku’s hair is a mess from the static of the blankets. Curls sticking out every which way and surrounding his sleeping face like a mane. Or, maybe some sort of freaky green halo. His face was puffy and Bakugou mentally compares him to one of those Victorian baby paintings they’d learned about in Midnight’s class last month. Smooth skin, rosy cherub cheeks, delicate features. 

What a fucking idiot. Sleeping out here.

A pause.

Did he always have that many freckles?

Regardless, Bakugou does what he does best and begins going through the motions of harassing Midoriya. He kicks at the couch so it shakes to wake the idiot occupying it.

“Oi. Shitstain. Wake up.”

“Mmmmm” Izuku tries to bury his head further into the sofa’s armrest, ignoring the earthquake surrounding him. “M’tired.”

“Fucking obviously . Sleeping out in the commons. Come on, wake up .” 

Bakugou gently slaps Midoriya’s face repeatedly until his eyes open. They’re unfocused and bleary, but that doesn’t make them any less green. The bloodshot redness makes it stand out more, now that Katsuki’s thinking about it. (Which he is more certainly not) 

Now that he is sentient, Deku brings scarred arms up to protect his head from Bakugou’s torments. 

“Kacchannnnnnnnnn,” Izuku groans, arms still covering his face as Bakugou stands back. “What time s’it?” 

“6:30. Hour before bell. Coffee should be ready.” Bakugou is already walking away from the green blanket gremlin. 

The coffee is, in fact, ready when Katsuki bumbles back to the kitchen. He makes sure Deku’s not looking and pours a fuckton of creamer and a heap of sugar into his mug. He sits on the counter, nursing it so he has a prime view to glare at the idiot, who is now standing up. 

Midoriya’s in a tank top. This information isn’t particularly important, but Katsuki notices it nonetheless. He has no further comments. 

Tank-top clad Deku bumbles towards the kitchen, pulls an All Might mug out of a cabinet, and pours himself a cup of coffee. He immediately starts drinking it. Black. 

Shitty tasting drink for a shitty nerd, I guess.

“You look like shit.”

“You look tired, Kacchan.”

Both boys spoke at the same time, and both pairs of eyes widened in surprise at the synchronous comments.

“Had a rough night.” Bakugou mumbles his response first, taking another large sip of his sugary drink. It burns going down like it’s alcohol due to how raw his throat constantly is. 

“Yeah, me too.” Midoriya says.

They simply sit there for a second. Bakugou perched on the counter, Midoriya leaning against it. His bare shoulder is kinda close to Katsuki’s thigh. If he moved his leg just a little to the left, they’d touch. Katsuki continues to have no comment. 

“Get dressed, fuckface. You don’t have a lot of time.”

“Oh!” Izuku sets down his mug. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He looks sheepish, rubbing the back of his head in that dumb and awkward way he does before beginning to walk out of the kitchen and back towards the elevators. “And Kacchan?”

“Mmph.”

“Thanks,” He grins. It is blinding. “For waking me up.”

And then Izuku’s pressing his floor’s button. The elevator opens for him. Shitty hair and Bellybutton walk out into the common space, replacing the now out of sight Deku. 

“Hey, Bakubro! Whoa, you look like shit . Bad night?”

“No.” Bakugou slides off of the counter and puts his now empty mug in the sink. “I don’t have bad nights. I’m hella good at sleeping.”

••

Hero training today is in the USJ. They’re doing work with water rescues, meaning that lots of the class’ quirks are fucking useless--including Bakugou’s. 

He would never admit how stressed water rescues make him. They put Katsuki’s helplessness on display for everybody to see. All he can do is sit and  watch as people like Froggy get to do the cool shit. 

Rather than let 1-A pick who they’re working with, Aizawa is assigning the groups himself. Bakugou cannot decide if he approves of this decision or not, considering he can’t really think of anyone who he would actually want to work with.  

Cold freezes water into ice, Katsuki deducts. So, by that logic, he wants the fridge-oven in his group. Not froggy, regardless of how good her aquatic maneuverability is. She simply gives off a vibe that Bakugou doesn’t approve of. Like she knows him. Which she most certainly does not. 

Katsuki ends up in a group with Teacher’s Pet, Tail, and Headphones. So, all in all, not a bad draw. Two people who can’t do much submerged in water (Ojiro and himself) and two who are capable (Jirou and Iida). 

They are tasked with tsunami aftermath training, meaning each group will be racing through submerged rubble to retrieve a dummy civilian who is trapped underwater. It’s a relay, so each team will rescue four dummies in total. 

Bakugou’s team is placed up against a team that consists of Ashido, Shoji, Sato and Deku. So, naturally, Katsuki was already chomping at the bit during the three minute strategizing period. 

“It would make sense for Iida to be last, since he’s the fastest. That way we can finish out strong.” Ojiro remarks as his team huddles. Iida says something dumb and does a lot of hand gestures to signify his enthusiasm. Bakugou nodded without listening, switching between glaring at Deku and studying Headphones’ face. 

She’s got a pretty face. Features angular but soft. Her eyebrows are cool, because of that cut through one of them. Overall, a nice looking person. She’s not particularly muscular, but she has good agility and speed. Overall, a nice fighter. Good future hero. 

Wait. 

That was not what he was supposed to be analyzing. 

Why Katsuki’s brain couldn’t focus on “cute girl” and immediately migrated to “hero strategies” he has no idea. Either way, during his meditation, the group decided that he was going third in the relay. 

Jirou was first so they could start strong, then the two weaker points in the middle, then a strong finish. It was a solid strategy. 

“Bakugou, are you...okay? You haven’t really yelled at anyone or said anything.” Jirou is suddenly snapping her fingers in front of his face. 

“Your eyebrow is cool.” Is all Katsuki responds with.He internally cringes at himself and quickly turns away, face red. Jirou narrows her eyes and cocks her head to the side, clearly confused. 

“Thanks…?”

Both teams line up on a dock, and Aizawa blows a whistle. Sato and Jirou both leap off the platform and into the water, with Sato using sugar and strength to swim incredibly fast, while Jirou opts to send soundwaves behind her that shoot her forward on the surface of the water. 

Deku gasps from his spot on the platform, cheering on both swimmers despite how this is a competition . He’s mumbling something about Jirou’s genius of maneuvering water waves like sound waves, and Katsuki fights back the urge to mention that he suggested the strategy to her when they first huddled up. Before he got sidetracked. 

Both students are underwater now, searching for the dummy with the number 1 printed on it. Sato surfaces first, but without the dummy. He treads water for a second before taking another big breath and heading back under. 

Jirou surfaces next with an explosion of water, the dummy’s arms secured firmly around her shoulders. With her free hand, she shoots out another wave of sound and it propels her over halfway back to the platform. 

Sato surfaces with his dummy and makes up the distance quickly, but Jirou is still able to high five Tail so that he can dive in about five seconds earlier.

“Wow, Jirou!! That was such a cool move!” Deku is already babbling from beside Bakugou, currently talking a mile a minute at Jirou. She’s barely listening, panting with her hands on her knees while water droplets drip from her hair. 

She smiles at Deku, but her attention is quickly averted to where Ashdio has resurfaced with her dummy at record speeds despite not having a quirk that gives her an advantage. Deku’s team cheers, and Bakugou secretly lets his lip quirk up in pride over how far Pinky has come recently. Her strength has really improved. 

Of course, he’d never tell her that. 

Or maybe… he would? Would he be able to hold her hand and tell her that she’s strong? Would he cherish her smile and creepy alien eyes? Katsuki isn’t sure, and doesn’t have much time to think about it because Deku’s diving into the water with Ojiro still a few seconds behind. 

Focus .

Ojiro, dummy in hand, high fives Katsuki so he can jump into the water. 

Focus .

Bakugou immediately sets off blasts from his palms, closing the gap between his and Deku’s team before letting himself be actually submerged. 

Focus.  

He holds his breath and forces his eyes open as he looks for the number 3 dummy. But it’s hard to see anything. Deku’s got the faint One for All glow around him that gives both boys a small amount of visibility, but for the most part, Katsuki is in the dark with limited oxygen. 

He’s in the dark with limited oxygen . 

He’s in the dark with limited oxygen . 

He’s in the dark with limited oxygen . 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

He’s panicking. Katsuki can tell that it’s happening, but he can’t focus. His brain can’t decide if he should keep looking for the dummy or surface and risk his team losing. He’s only been underwater for about 12 seconds, and yet it suddenly feels like it’s been hours. Katsuki’s hands begin to flail around him and he grabs at nothing but liquid. The water feels like sludge in his hands. 

So he screams. He panics and screams and the last thing he sees is the light from Deku’s quirk getting brighter and brighter as the idiot swims towards him, abandoning his dummy. Water fills Katsuki’s lungs as he lets out another panicked wail. He squeezes his eyes shut on instinct, and allows strong arms to grab him before he runs out of the oxygen he had left.

The light coming from the dome windows on the USJ ceiling is really really bright. Especially after your whole world blacks out. Immediately upon opening them, Katsuki wants to close his eyes again. Aizawa’s worried face looms above him, and Bakugou shifts his head on what he thinks is a pillow to look away. 

He cheeks rub against the pillow, and it feels more like a swimsuit. 

Begrudgingly, Katsuki cracks his eyes open once more and tilts his head just a bit farther back so he can make eye contact with the owner of whoever’s lap his head is currently resting in. 

As soon as he sees green, Bakugou tries to sit up, only for Aizawa to gently lower him back down.

“Bakugou, why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t swim?”

Katsuki lets out a cough and some water comes from his mouth. He wonders if his throat would be irreparable if he yelled. 

“I can fucking swim just fine .” He hisses.

“Then what--” Aizawa presses.

“My leg got caught on something and I couldn’t resurface. Right, Deku? I swim great . Isn’t that what happened, Deku?”

Deku freezes up at the pointed looks from both Aizawa and Katsuki, and squirms a little bit before speaking. The squirming made Katsuki hyper aware of the fact that he was laying with Deku’s legs cushioning his head, and just as Deku opens his mouth to say “Well, um actually--”

Bakugou starts coughing. 

He rolls off of Deku and changes position so that he’s on all fours, facing the floor when the hacking begins. The petal and blood mixture is runny and waterlogged, which, as gross as it is, made things come up easier. 

Maybe I should drown more often . 

Of course Deku freaks out. The last time he witnessed it happen up close Katsuki had to see Recovery Girl. The green haired idiot turns to Aizawa with wide eyes and starts gesturing frantically, similar to Teacher’s Pet. They must spend too much time together.

Another flower bud comes up.

Deku is screeching something that sounds like “Help him! Why can’t you help him?!” but it’s getting fuzzy around the edges as Katsuki’s hearing starts to fade out and be replaced with the usual sounds of his own sickness. 

Pink Cheeks and IcyHot appear at Deku’s side, and Bakugou internally considers kissing Todoroki, just to see if it would make things stop. 

No. It’s a girl. She’s a girl. I love a girl. 

The corners of Katsuki’s eyes are stinging again, a telltale sign that he’s gonna cry soon. Hell fucking no . 

By the time the vomiting stops (which took far longer than normal) the rest of the class must have migrated back to the main building. Save for Alien, Shitty Hair, Deku, and Aizawa. With shaky hands, Bakugou finally lifts his head and his gaze meets Aizawa’s.

“Fine.” 

“Fine…..?” Aizawa narrows his eyes.

“Give me two days.” 

Aizawa nods in understanding. 

“Ashido, can you please walk Bakugou back to the dorms? Kirishima, Midoriya, don’t glare at me like that. I need you two for something. There’s still groups who need to do a training exercise.”

Alien reaches out her hand, and Bakugou begrudgingly takes it so that he can stand up. Her hand is soft and smooth. There’s calluses on the fingertips, but other than that they’re delicate and gentle. Very pink. 

Ashido is strong, a lot stronger than she used to be. 

She puts up with Shitty Hair’s group, just like Katsuki does. 

She buys him milkshakes and holds him accountable because she cares. 

Because she loves him. 

••

“I’m in love with you.” 

Ashido stops dead in her tracks and whips her head around to face Katsuki, whose dorm room she was just leaving in order to make it to math class in time. 

“You .” She points to Katsuki. “Are in love .” She makes a finger heart. “With me…?” 

Bakugou grits his teeth and gives her a determined glare. 

“Yes.” 

Laughter is definitely not what Katsuki expected upon confessing his love to someone. To be fair, he never thought he’d have to confess his love to someone. But, even in any hypothetical situation that Katsuki could concoct, the girl he confesses to doesn’t cackle at him.

Ashido is folded over herself, tears streaming down her face and an expression of pure glee painting her features. Katsuki simply gapes at her for the three minutes it takes for her to calm down. Once she does, they make eye contact again. The smile falls away. Katsuki is good at making smiles fall away.

“Oh my god you’re serious.” 

“Yes.” Bakugou repeats, even more frustrated this time. “And I’m tired of vomiting so if you could just come here so I can--”

“Oh fuck no,” Ashido snorts. “Also, what happened to you not wanting my mouth germs touching your spit? Isn’t that what you said?” Her hands are now on her hips as she shifts her weight to one side, smirking at him. 

“Ashido, if you don’t like me back please just tell me so I can remove the fucking--”

“Oh, baby,” She coos. It’s the most condescending thing Bakugou has been subjected to since last time he saw his mother. “I love you to bits! But you don’t love me . Not like that, you doofus!”

“ You don’t know how I feel.”

“Katsuki,” Ashido steps further into Bakugou’s room, makes her way to his bed, and plants a hand on his shoulder in a crude attempt at comfort. “I’m not gonna judge you, and neither is anyone in the class.” 

For some reason, Katsuki’s eyes start to burn again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about you fucking--”

“I know you’re not quite ready yet, but you need to--” She takes a deep breath. “You need to tell him soon.”Another pause, and then, like an afterthought, 

“I don’t want to watch you die.”

Him.

She knows. 

How does she know? Who told her? Was it Aizawa? That fucking piece of--

Wait. 

If she knows that means there’s something to know. 

“I’m not--”

Ashido sits down on the mattress next to him and pulls him into a side hug. He tenses, but forgets to move away when Ashido starts talking again.

“I do love you, okay? No matter what, dummy. And when you tell him, I’ll be right there with you.” 

Mina’s voice is the gentlest it’s ever been while speaking to Katsuki, and, just for a moment, Bakugou lets his guard down with her. He allows the first few tears to fall down his cheeks and leans further into her side. 

So they sit like that, staring at Katsuki’s wall while he sniffles and cries quietly. Bakugou doesn’t say anything more, because Ashido already knows.

And Katsuki does, too. 

Chapter Text

When Ashido leaves his dorm room to catch the last half of math class, Bakugou allows himself to really, truly cry. 

While Mina was with him, he’d sniffled and choked, maybe let out a few dumb sobs. But Katsuki was committed now. He was ready for some good old fashioned curling in a ball and openly sobbing until his mind went numb. So that’s exactly what he does. 

He can tell how pathetic it sounds, especially with symptoms from almost drowning and Hanahaki. Katsuki silently thanks Aizawa for keeping Kirishima and Deku in the USJ. No one is allowed to witness this. 

After a few hours of on and off tears, Katsuki is no longer sure what he’s crying about. Originally, it was “ Why couldn’t I have just been in love with Ashido?” Then, it was “ I’m not gonna have anywhere to stay over the summer.” Which led to the thought “ I won’t have a family anymore.“  

His entire world was shifting and Katsuki was reassessing every choice he’d ever made. Maybe--he thought--maybe this is the universe’s punishment for me being an asshole.

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki whispers, sniffling into his pillow. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry .”

I’m sorry for not being who you wanted me to be. I’m sorry for being second best. I’m sorry that I make people frown and cry. I’m sorry that I blow up gifts people give me and that I am so unlovable that I can barely earn it from my mom. I’m sorry that I like boys and that I can’t live to be a hero unless I kiss one. I’m sorry that I can’t be better, that I wasn’t good enough to take on One for All. 

I see it now-- why he chose Deku.

Deku . Deku who had followed Katsuki his whole life. The butterfly that Deku’s net could never capture. The green haired boy whose notebooks Katsuki burned in middle school while he spat out bullshit--telling the quirkless kid to kill himself.

This was karma. 

For the rest of his life, which might end up only being two weeks, Katsuki would be paying for his actions. He already had been. All Might had chosen Deku. 

Deku now looked down on him because somehow, he had known that Katsuki was weak and deserved to be looked down upon. Katsuki was no longer being chased, he was desperately running to catch up with someone miles ahead.

Hell, Deku’s so observant, he probably knew Katsuki liked boys the whole time. 

Yet another reason I deserved to be punished. 

“I get it,” Katsuki said to no one as he spoke into the void of his dorm room. “I get it. I know I deserve this. I understand your fucking point ” A sniffle. Katsuki’s eyes began to sting again, signifying another round of tears was coming. “I’ll be a hero. I’ll be better. I’ll make sure that I save every goddamn person in Japan if I have to,” A shaky breath. “But please-- ” He was fully crying again. “Please just make it stop.”

Katsuki is still crying when his phone dings. It’s in his bag, next to the swimsuit he’d changed out of after Ashido left. Other than that, nothing had moved since then. 

Shit, Classes must be done.

Sure enough, the clock on Katsuki’s lock screen reads 3:00, signifying that everyone else’s school day had ended. 

The text that set off his notifications is from Ashido, who wants to know if she should pick him up some soup from the convenience store before coming back to the dorm. At the mere idea of it, Katsuki’s stomach growls. 

He sends a thumbs up emoji in response. Then, on a whim, adds a quick “Thx”, to which she responds with a string of heart emojis in various colors, making Bakugou instantly regret thanking her. 

Soon enough, the chatter of people entering the dorms and heading to their respective areas fills the hallway outside Katsuki’s room. He can tell by the sound of the footfalls who is walking, and rolls his eyes as soon as Kirishima’s footsteps stop outside his door. 

“Baku-broooo~” Shitty Hair singsongs, knocking gently. 

Katsuki groans and forces himself out of the fetal position he had returned to after getting his phone. His bones pop a bit as he walks over to the barrier between him and Kirishima. He cracks the door open a millimetre. 

“Do you have the soup?” Katsuki deadpans. 

“If you want soup, you have to come downstairs. Ashido’s not allowed up here so the handoff has to happen in the commons.” 

“Bullshit. She was just here.” 

“Not my rule. Sorry, my guy. If you want the soup you chill with the troop.” 

“Did you rehearse that joke in the bathroom before coming over here?” Katsuki snaps. Kisishima simply sighs and pushes the door open further. 

When Katuski becomes fully visible, Shitty Hair’s eyes widen an astronomical amount. 

I must look like ass .

“Dude… you look-- are you okay? ”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” 

“Fair,” Kirisima shoves his way into Katsuki’s room and grabs Katsuki’s sleeve so he’s being tugged around in his own space. “Now, go get freshened up.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You have tear stains on your face. Like..streams of-- do you wear eyeliner? ”

“It’s supposed to be waterproof.” Katsuki grumbles, pulling himself free from Kiri’s grip and heading into his bathroom to clean off his face. 

Looking in the mirror is like looking at a ghost. 

The eyeliner stains really complete the hopeless dying loser look. Sunken in eyes, post crying reddened nose, little black rivers of eyeliner. Someone should dress as Bakugou for halloween this year. Although, he might actually be dead by then, and that doesn’t seem very tasteful. 

Kaminari might do it if I ask him in advance.

Katsuki snorts at the thought and finishes cleaning off his face. He pulls on a hoodie over the shirt he was wearing to cover the floral scented bloodstain down the front of it. 

“Am I presentable now, your highness?” Bakugou growls, folding his arms. 

“Yes, I’d say so.” Kirishima smiles, grabbing Katuski’s sleeve again and tugging him out of the room and towards the commons. 

••

Eijirou Kirishima is a fucking liar who deserves to burn in hell. 

As Katsuki steps out of the elevator with the bastard by his side, practically the whole fucking class was in the common area. Around sixteen heads whip around at the sound of the ding, all of them now looking straight at a “freshened up” (but still arguably a mess) Bakugou. 

As if on cue, Ashido waltzes through the dorm’s front door with a plastic bag. 

“Oh! Hey, Baku! Good to see you up and attem!  I totally would have just sent this up to you, though.” Mina’s tone is the same as it usually is, but there’s some sort of weird internal conversation that happens between her and Katsuki through eye contact alone. 

Bakugou turns to give Kirishima a death glare, and he has the fucking audacity to smirk a bit. 

“You need to be social, dude. Can’t land a chick if you avoid them all.” Kirishima murmurs quiet enough that only Katsuki can hear. 

The blond is suddenly very glad he was not holding the soup yet, as it probably would have exploded wth on how hard his stomach just dropped. 

All of these people think I like a girl except Mina. 

“Ashido. My room. Bring the soup.” Katsuki grumbles before turning on his heel and heading back into the elevator. 

Several people whoop and cheer, thinking that the confession was going to happen over soup. 

Sorry, extras. Already tried that one.

Ashido takes the stairs, and reaches Katsuki’s room with the soup only 45 seconds later than Bakugou himself. Which is nice, because she hands over the convenience store bag holding the soup container as soon as she crosses the threshold of his room. 

Bakugou didn’t realize how starving he was until he started eating, and for a few seconds, Ashido simply lets him slurp down the food. She’s spinning on Katsuki’s desk chair as if she belongs. 

I wish she did.

“Why have I been summoned, Blasty?” Mina asks when the soup cup is halfway empty. 

Katsuki sets it down, cracks his knuckles, sighs, and then speaks. 

“The extras are gonna know that I’m... you know. ” 

“Huh? That you’re gay?” Ashido tilts her head to the side in confusion “I mean...yeah?”

“They’re gonna think I’m a little bitch. That I’m weak. They’re gonna know I’m a fuckup.”

“Whoa there, bud. I am not the person you need to unpack that box with. But...no? They’re not? Everyone’s chill with Aoyama, and he’s gay.”

“He is?”

“Oh my god, Baku. You’re hopeless . Yes, he’s gay! His hero name is Can’t Stop Twinkling! That has ‘twink’ in the name!”

“Oh.” 

“You just made a face. Got a thing for twinks?” Ashido’s shitty raccoon eyes are twinkling as she asks, pointing an accusing finger at Katsuk

“Wh-- no.”

“Okay, so...muscular guys? Want someone who can pick you up? What’s the criteria?”

“ First of all, Raccoon eyes, I don’t remember signing up for a fucking interview. ” 

“You didn’t deny it!”

“Mind your own fucking business.” 

“You asked me to come up here.”

“ Because I wanted SOUP!”

Ashido is laughing at Katsuki for the second time today, and it’s just as frustrating as it was the first time. She’s giggling so hard she hiccups as she turns around on Katsuki’s chair to face his desk. Without asking for permission, she erases the whiteboard that hangs above it and, in bold black letters with an Expo, writes “Muscular”.

“We are not listing this.”

“I think we are~” Mina singsongs. “This might help you! You like the strong ones, that’s a start. Any other leads..?”

Katsuki, against his better judgement, pauses to think. 

“People--uhh--guys who don’t take shit. They’ll talk back a bit. Smart. A good smile would be nice.” 

Ashido writes down the little list of requests, drawing tiny cartoon hearts around the words. Shes grinning that dumb toddler grin, so Katsuki ignores her and takes another mouthful of soup. 

“What about dick size?”

Katsuki spits out the soup.

Mina absolutely loses it laughing. 

“Got it, size doesn’t matter.” 

“I’m kicking you out. You have lost your rights to be in here, shitstain. Get out.”

“Awwww, don’t be like that! I was only joking!!”

“ Out Ashido.”

“Fine, fine,” she waves him off and prances out of the room. Before closing the door, she spits out a “When you’re ready to confess to someone, run your plan by me first. You’re too hopeless to do this on your own.”

“Oi! OUT!” 

The door shuts with a click. 

Katsuki glares at the whiteboard and Ashido’s tiny, comical, and slightly patronizing list of what he likes in a boy. 

• Muscular
• Smart
• Sass (can deal with/get used to Blasty’s bullshit)
• Cute smile
• Shorter than Blasty (to feed his ego)

Everything clicks. 

••

Kirishima is an inch shorter than Bakugou. This is the final variable that causes Katsuki to solidify that it’s Shitty Hair he’s in love with. 

Katsuki has no fucking idea how to feel about it. 

He’s definitely not going to go to Mina for advice on this. Although she’s been helpful (which he would NEVER admit) this seems like something a little beyond her skill level. It’s different if she’s friends with both parties. 

It’s 6:00 and Katsuki’s been staring at that stupid whiteboard since Mina left his room two hours ago. 

On one hand, he’s relieved that he finally knows who it is. He can see it now, with Kirishima being someone he likes sparring with weekly, and usually tolerates the presence of. He could definitely pick Katsuki up, too. Not that something as stupid as that played a major part. Probably. 

The side of him that’s not relieved is making him feel like there’s cement in his stomach. Hell , a whole demolition site with a bulldozer and debris. He feels like he’s being destroyed from the inside out. 

You are, dumbass . Katsuki reminds himself, now worried about when his next round of flowers and pain will be. You’re dying. 

But I won’t be once I tell him. 

Katsuki cannot consider the possibility that he will be rejected. If he is, maybe Aizawa will let him die on UA records. Since the death wouldn’t technically be his fault. 

That makes Katsuki feel even worse . Kirishima doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would cope well with being responsible for the death of a friend. 

Well, fuck it, I guess. Bakugou thinks to himself before pulling out his phone to call Aizawa and ask about the qualifications to get to die a martyr. 

The phone rings three times before Katsuki’s homeroom teacher picks up. 

“Yes, Bakugou?” Aizawa deadpans.

“How did you kn--”

“I put your number in my contacts in case you had an emergency . Which I assume this is, yes?”

Katsuki hesitates and thinks about what could be considered an emergency. 

This had to do with how quickly he would die, so, that probably counts. 

“...Yes.”

“Okay, what’s the emergency?”

“Two questions.”

“Go ahead,” A pause “I don’t have a lot of time. We’re eating soon.” Aizawa tacks on. 

“One,” Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose. “If the person says no , and I die, can I die on UA’s hero student records?” 

He hears Aizawa sigh. 

“I suppose. But you have to actually try to--”

“Gimme a fucking second! I’m getting there! Question two,” Katsuki takes a deep breath. “How the fuck do I ask a boy out?”

Aizawa is silent for what feels like hours, leaving only dead space for Katsuki to listen to. Then, finally, his teacher speaks. 

“Would you like to come over for dinner, Bakugou?” 

••

The staff residential buildings are a lot nicer than the student dorms. Which is saying something, since the student dorms are pretty nice. You would think that Aizawa’s apartment would be organized and pristine with a few sleeping bags laying around here and there. Maybe some papers to grade. But, other than those ideas, Katsuki was expecting an ikea showroom with a dark academia aesthetic. 

He was not expecting pure and utter chaos. 

When Katsuki knocked on the door with the right room number, he expected Aizawa to answer. Instead, he is met with the strangest, most haunting thing he has ever seen in his life. And that’s saying something.

Present Mic with his hair down.  

Well, not down pre se. Rather, in a fucking man bun. What the fuck what the fuck abort mission. He’s also got normal clothes that aren’t leather on. Yet another twist Katsuki was not prepared for

Both blonds just stare at each other for a few seconds, clearly surprised to see the other person. 

“Sho…? There’s a.... gremlin here to see you!” Mic breaks the silence, which is a talent of his.

“OI!!” Katsuki’s indignant yelling is cut off by Aizawa, from somewhere inside the apartment, calling out.

“Go ahead and let him in! He’s eating with us!” 

Mic shrugs, and opens the door all the way to allow Katsuki into the space. 

Originally, Bakugou had worried he’d be scrutinized for being underdressed in his current hoodie and basketball shorts combo. But upon seeing the state of the living space, he thinks he’ll blend in well. 

There’s a patchwork sofa in a sitting area with a very soft looking rug in front of it. Although, it can barely be seen with all of the children’s toys spread out over the space. Stray crayons litter the coffee table and are illuminated by the muted TV playing. 

There’s a cat tree in the corner, and perched atop it is the fluffiest black cat Katsuki has ever seen. It glares at him. He glares back. 

Aizawa pokes his head out of a doorway that presumably leads to the kitchen while holding a spoon. He also has normal clothes and his hair back. It makes Bakugou want to throw up. 

“‘Zash, take over for me on the stove for a second. I need to give the gremlin the house rules.” 

Katsuki shoots a death glare at Aizawa as the spoon is handed off and Mic disappears, leaving just student and teacher in the living space. 

Immediately, the cat leaps off of it’s perch and heads straight to Aizawa to wind itself around his legs. 

“No swearing. No photos of anything . No quirk usage from you. The explosions will scare Eri. The agreement of you keeping your mouth shut from before remains the same. You do anything that upsets Eri, and you’re out. Got it?”

Katsuki is too busy staring at Aizawa’s sweater ( a sweater!) to care enough to object to any rules. 

“Where is--”

“Kacchan!”  

Katsuki’s question is answered before it fully leaves his mouth as Eri comes from the opposite direction of the kitchen, clutching a stuffed bunny in one small hand, and pointing at him with the other. 

“Where’d you learn that name, twerp?” Katsuki folds his arms and prepares a scowl, but Aizawa clears his throat--making Bakugou think better of it. Instead, the blond squats down to Eri’s height so she doesn’t have to tilt her head up to speak to him. 

“Deku! He talks about you lots!” Eri’s eyes light up. She gives Katsuki a smile that could probably end wars. “He told me that’s your name!”

“Did he now…” Katsuki grits his teeth but attempts to keep a neutral expression. He was not fucking up his chance at gay lessons and free food by pissing off a child. “Do you see Deku a lot?”

“Sometimes,” Eri giggles. “Papa always says he’s too old for me.” 

Bakugou almost chokes on his own spit. Aizawa groans. 

“Your Papa is right . He is too old for you, bub. No falling for any of my students.” 

It’s strange to see Aizawa so domestic. He reaches down after teasing his child and moves to tickle her. She squeals and scurries away to the kitchen, presumably to seek refuge with Mic. 

Bakugou’s lip quirks up into a soft smile as he watches her go. 

A timer goes off, and soon enough there’s food on a small dining table with four chairs that are situated in the kitchen by a window. There’s a nice view of the campus, and Eri excitedly tells Katsuki that her seat is the one facing the window so that she can watch clouds. 

The food is good. Hella good, actually. Mic and Aizawa ignore him a little bit, caught up in what seems like a routine of telling each other about their days. Eri chimes in when she hears a name she recognizes, but Katsuki simply eats quietly and watches. 

He tries to put himself in their place. A gay pro hero with a spouse and a ranking and an apartment and a kid. Him and Kirishima with a cat and a window seat in the kitchen for a child to watch clouds. 

Kirishima seems like he’d be an alright dad. He’s nice enough. 

“Honey,” ( honey!? Did someone just call AIZAWA ‘honey’?!?!?)  “why is the child here if he’s not even going to speak?” 

Aizawa, mid bite, with rice still in his mouth and as if it’s the most casual thing in the world, turns to Mic and says “He’s got boy troubles and god knows I’m not gonna deal with it so I figured you could take one for the team.” 

“Sho! You can be romantic! I’ve seen it! You could help Bakugou with asking out...Midoriya?” Mic’s looking to Bakugou for confirmation. Eri suddenly turns to Katsuki too, intrigued. 

“Wha--NO. It’s Kirishima.” Katsuki insists. 

Mic and Aizawa exchange a weird telepathic look. 

“Okay,” Mic tries again. “So we’re asking out Kirishima. What are we nervous about? Internalized homophobia? Rejection? External homophobia? Although I wouldn’t worry about that too much with 1-A’s reaction to Aoyama....”

“I just don’t know how to ask someone out.” Bakugou refuses to make eye contact, staring instead at the cup of water he had been given to drink. 

“You’ll be fine, Bakugou.” Aizawa speaks up once more. 

“You invited me over here just to pretend you’re gonna give me advice? Just to say that I’ll be fine?! I’m not fine! This is not fine!” Katsuki was really struggling to control his frustration around Eri.

“I invited you over here so you could see what was possible for you, kid.”

“...Wha?”

“You can have a family. You can be a pro. You can have a life. Hell, the hard part’s already done for you. You’ve already got someone to love. All that’s left is for you to step up to the plate and own it.” Aizawa takes a sip of whatever’s in his cup. Probably straight vodka or something. “This is attainable for you. If you let it be.” 

I can have a family who love me. I can have this. 

Yet I won’t be allowed to obtain it. 

I’m being punished. This is part of the punishment. Yes, I could have this. But I won’t be able to. The world is showing me something I’ll never get no matter how hard I try. My parents will hate me more than they already do. Kirishima will say no. Deku will finally get to laugh at me to my face for being gay like he’s been doing behind my back. 

I don’t deserve this kind of love. And I’ll never get to have it. 

But fuck, am I going to die trying

Chapter Text

It’s Sunday. Meaning there’s around twelve days left until Katsuki would die if he didn’t confess. Kirishima would spar with him in the afternoon as usual, and Katsuki was going to do it. 

He’s jittery all day. 

In the morning, he throws up some flowers and has a little cry. Then has a shower and eats lunch in his room. (leftovers from his visit to the Aizawa residence, where he had stayed surprisingly late in order to play go fish with the family of three before Eri was told to go to bed). 

Kirishima texts him at around 1 to confirm the 3 o’clock sparring time, and Katsuki sends him a thumbs up emoji.

Katsuki’s hands are sweating a lot more than they normally do, a small blessing, since he knows he needs to win this sparring match to at least uphold a shred of dignity before confessing his love to someone. 

He wonders if he should wear anything special. Something different from his regular sparring shorts and tank top. No, that wouldn’t make sense. Besides, Kirishima’s seen him look way worse. 

Like that time when he helped to save Katsuki from the league. Or when he almost drowned yesterday. Or when they fought villains in the USJ. Or when he failed his provisional licensing exam. 

This would be fine. 

Katsuki arrives at their usual patch of field for sparring at exactly three, even though he knows Kirishima will show up about seven minutes late, smoothie in hand, like he always does. 

Today Kirishima’s  smoothie is substituted with a protein shake. It’s vanilla, apparently. Katsuki has a suspicion it's actually just a regular milkshake and Eijirou lying to him. But he supposes if he loves someone, something like that shouldn’t matter. 

“You ready to start?” Kirishima grins, cracking his knuckles after they’ve both stretched. 

No. If we start then it ends and I have to do this. This is my last day or I’m expelled. I need to be a hero. I need to tell you I love you. 

Katsuki grits his teeth and gives Kirishima a manic grin. 

“Fuck yeah.”

The rhythm of fighting with Kirishima is staccato. Choppy and thrown together. The redhead doesn’t really strategize when fighting someone. Instead, he uses the logic of “hit the thing until it breaks”. In some cases, that system works. But not when fighting Katsuki. 

Bakugou continuously propels himself into the air using explosions in order to land hits on Kirishima’s back. It’s lazy, almost. With Shitty Hair whipping around to face him and trying to block while Katsuki lands explosions and punches with ease. 

That doesn’t change the fact that he’s off his game today, though. Normally, where Bakugou can land three hits, he’s only landing one. He doubts Kirishima notices, since he’s too focused on hardening and maintaining stamina as he takes the hits. 

Around halfway through what has so far been a pretty easy battle, something changes in Kirishima’s eyes. He has a new strategy. The next time Bakugou propels, Kirishima grabs his foot and yanks him down, landing a punch straight at the blond’s jaw. Katsuki hears the cack and tastes blood. It’s refreshing. 

Bakugou’s really smiling now, yelling out taunts as Kirishima starts to put up a genuinely good fight. Just like last week. 

Shitty Hair pulls a few other new maneuvers that show promise if he works at them more, and Katsuki feels a sense of pride knowing that he might actually end up with a few bruises. Normally, Kirishima’s not able to get to him like that. 

Maybe Katsuki’s just not playing defense well enough, but he’d like to think his friend is improving. 

The tussle becomes even closer range, and at some point they wordlessly decide to stop using quirks. It is simply Katsuki and this boy with ugly ass hair and a nice smile who could put up with his shit and is one inch shorter. 

Kirishima pushes Katsuki to the ground, and Katsuki lets him. 

Surprised, Shitty Hair topples forward and they land on the grass next to each other, panting. The sun has been blasting them all day and it shines down from a clear, blue sky. The ground is bright green, and it feels like the saturation on the earth has been turned up. 

Bakugou takes note of the tiny scar above Kirishima’s right eye. 

It’s now or never.

“Oi, Kirishima.” Bakugou tilts his head so that they’re facing each other.

“What’s up bro?”

I love you. I am a boy and I love you and I’m sorry and I know you don’t love me back but I need you to lie so that I won’t die and I can be a hero and I can finally catch up to stupid fucking Deku. I need this. I need you. 

“Kiss me.”

“What?!” Kirishima’s eyes widen and he sits up, clearly taken aback. 

“Kiss me so I stop barfing up flowers and shit.” Katsuki sits up as well, giving the most determined look Kirishima has ever seen. 

“You love me?!”

Play it cool.

“No, dumbass, I want us to kiss because I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Jeez! Okay! Fine! I like you too! I just—didn’t think this was how it would play out. Y’know? I thought it’d be more...manly? Like you’d maybe get me flowers or something.Oh! Or I’d--uhh--take you to dinner at that one hotpot place!! Or maybe--” 

“Shitty hair! You gonna kiss me or what?”

And he does. 

Bakugou had never really been one to fantasize about his first kiss. Probably because most people stopped talking about them by the time he’d considered caring. Most of the boys in his grade had already gotten theirs. With girls.  

Regardless, Katsuki’s expectations had been extremely low. And he had absolutely nothing to base this kiss off of. 

It was nice. In a weird sort of way. 

He had absolutely no idea what to do with his hands, so he keeps them on his knees as he leans forward. Kirishima was doing most of the work in the ways of mouth moving, and Katsuki was just following along. 

It was...wet? And sort of awkward. He didn’t know how else to describe it. Warm, maybe? It was sweet. Yeah, that was a good way to put it. Kirishima is sweet. 

The kiss only lasts about three seconds, but when Kirishima pulls away, Katsuki is winded. 

“It was me all along?” The redhead smiles as he asks, and Bakugou wonders if he’s just as breathless. 

“Don’t let it go to your head.” He finds himself smiling a bit, too. 

I kissed a boy. 

The smile drops.

Oh fuck I kissed a boy

••

Katsuki’s hands are always sweaty, and before he kissed Kirishima, it was worse than usual. The issue had only magnified, and it felt like Katsuki had just washed his hands. Kirishima’s fingers are laced through his regardless, acting as if it’s not noticeable. 

Shitty Hair is swinging their arms back and forth lightly as they walk back to the dorms to shower. He’s babbling about something to do with their relationship, but Katsuki is too focused on the feeling of someone holding his hand to pay much attention. 

Kirishima’s hand is warm and calloused. Katsuki feels strangely secure in his grasp. 

“...So is it okay if I do that?” 

Bakugou only catches the end of the sentence and simply mumbles something along the lines of “uh huh”, hyperfocused on the feeling of Kirishima’s thumb running over his knuckles. 

“Sweet! Thanks Kacchan!”

Katsuki breaks the handhold. 

“What did you just call me?” 

Kirishima’s face contorts into something similar to a kicked puppy. 

“Kacchan? I figured since we’re...y’know, together, I’d get nickname privileges. Like, you can call me E or Eiji or something if you want. I figured you liked Kacchan since you let Deku call you it all the time...is that one too much?”

“Are you Deku?” 

“No, heh. I guess not,” Kirishima reaches for Katsuki’s hand again. “Is there a reason I can’t say it?”

“...It’s just weird.” 

“Alright, then.” Kirishima shrugs “Sorry, Bakubabe. ”

“How long have you been sitting on that? ” Katsuki groans, slamming his palm into his forehead. 

Kirishima giggles a bit and bumps their shoulders together. 

“A while.” 

“You’re an idiot, Shitty Hair.”

“At least I’m your idiot.” Kirishima shoulder checks Katsuki once more. Bakugou returns the favor. 

“That can be changed.”

“Dude! You’d die!”

“Maybe I’d prefer that to kissing you , dumbass.”

“Fine, I guess I won’t kiss you again.” Kirishima’s voice is mocking being offended, but he’s still smiling. 

“Guess not.” Katsuki smirks, already tilting his head down for a peck. 

When they reach the doors to the 1-A dorm, everything becomes real. Katsuki had kissed a boy, twice , and now he was going to walk into a situation where every single person would know. Because he wasn’t going to be sick anymore. 

He supposes he could pretend it was Ashido and he’d confessed over soup, but that would mean possibly kissing Ashido. And, quite frankly, Katsuki’s opinion on her mouth coming near him had not changed. ( It would be fucking gross).

Kirishima makes eye contact with Bakugou before grabbing the door handle, sensing the blond’s nerves. 

“We don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.” 

“You think I’m fucking scared or something?” Katsuki challenges. 

I am. I’m fucking terrified. They’re going to laugh at me. At us. I ruined my chance at being number one hero because my brain is broken and likes kissing boys. 

“You’re not scared of anything.” Kirishima smiles softly, and turns the handle. 

••

Somehow, everyone immediately knows. A lot of people are spread out on sofas or study tables, and their heads all turn to face Katsuki and Eijirou. 

Fuck, he’s still holding my hand oh my god fuck fuck fuck.

Hagakure squeals and starts frantically clapping her hands like a demented seal. Sero’s jaw drops to the floor. Uraraka starts beaming when she sees the intertwined fingers, turning to shake Deku by his shoulder in excitement. 

Deku.

Katsuki makes eye contact with the nerd, and glares to cover up that he’s bracing himself for an “Of course Kacchan is one of those”

Instead, Deku’s mouth quirks up into a sympathetic smile. 

And somehow, that’s so much fucking worse. 

“Anyone says shit to him,” Katsuki tilts his head to gesture at Kirishima, “I fucking blast your brains out of your shitty heads. Got it?” 

Yaoyorozu nods from her spot at a study table, where she seems to be tutoring Sato on something. 

“You know we support you and--” She starts to say something encouraging, but Katsuki cuts that shit the fuck off.

“LALALALALALALA DON’T CARE CAN’T HEAR YOU LALALALA DON’T WANT YOUR MUSHY BULLSHIT!” Katsuki breaks the hanhold to plug his ears with his fingers. “I’m going to do homework with my boyfriend away from all of you extras.” He grumbles before heading towards the elevator, a sheepish Kirishima trailing behind him. 

“Use protection!” Kaminari calls out, causing Bakugou to immediately turn on his heel and charge at the dumbass, hands firing off small explosions while he screams bloody murder, face cherry red. 

“Baku! He was joking! It’s a joke!” Kirishima is calling after him, hardening and trying to restrain the angry bomb. 

••

“E, you’re still doing it wrong. You have to add a zero as a placeholder so that the synthetic division is set up right.”

“But there’s no zero in the polynomial!” 

“Because it’s a placeholder , shitdick. Here, give me your pencil.” 

It almost feels normal. Doing homework in Katsuki’s room with Eijirou. Both boys are sprawled out on the floor overtop of the shaggy black rug that now reminds Katsuki just a bit too much of Aizawa’s apartment. 

Fuck. Gotta tell Aizawa so he doesn't expel me tomorrow. 

“Oi, need to make a phone call real quick, then we can go back to math.” 

“Mmkay.” Kirishima nods before rolling over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. The dumbass closes his eyes dreamily. 

The phone rings it’s usual three times before Aizawa answers..

“Hel--”

“Did it. I’ll be in class on Monday to learn because this flower shit is over .” 

“I take it you figured things out?” Aizawa seems relieved. 

“Yeah, do you wanna talk to him for proof? I’ll put it on speaker.”

“Please don’t--”

“YOU’RE ON SPEAKER! SAY HELLO TO SHITTY HAIR!” Katsuki cuts off his teacher for the umpteenth time. A new habit during their phone calls. 

“Mr. Aizawa…?”

“Hi…... Kirishima ….”

“See? We’re together and everything. Take that. ” 

There is silence on the other end of the phone, and for a moment Bakugou wonders if Aizawa hung up. 

“Congratulations, you two. I’m glad this is over.” 

The line goes dead. 

“Why did you call Aizawa ?” Kirishima looks more confused now than he did when the duo were doing math. 

“We had an agreement. Don’t worry about it. Everything’s okay now.” 

Everything’s okay now. 

••

Katsuki eats dinner with the class for the first time since he contracted Hanahaki at Kirishima’s request. The food is nice, and sitting curled up on the couch (there’s not enough dining space for everyone at once) with his friends is nice, too. 

Eijirou's arm is slung over Katsuki’s shoulders (something that was very aggressively protested out of embarrassment.) But that did not deter the redhead from pulling the blond closer and stealing a bite from Bakugou’s bowl of udon. 

Round Face practically coos from the sofa across from where Katsuki and his friends are situated. IcyHot just seems confused as he offers Deku some more of his food. The dumbass declines, ( that idiot needs to eat more) and attempts to continue the conversation the four were having. 

“Something up, floaty?” Bakugou calls from across the room. 

“I just think it’s nice to see you getting along with someone! It’s been too quiet down here without your nagging.” She giggles as Katsuki immediately ignites his palms. 

“Oi! I’ll show you nagging!” 

“Kacchan, she’s just joking.” and “Dude, chill.” come from Deku and Kirishima’s mouths at the same time. Both parties look surprised, and their eyes widen for a second.

“Midoriya, dude,” Kirishima throws a thumbs up and then points to his stupid head. “Same wavelength.” 

Deku chuckles awkwardly and makes a facial expression as if he is contemplating death. Which he better not be, because Katsuki can’t beat him at everything if he’s six feet under. 

The dunce better live a long life.

“Maybe Kirishima should leave you for Midoriya, Blasty!” Kaminari speaks up from his perch on the couch armrest. “Deku’s pretty cute. I’d tap that.” 

Deku turns tomato red, and Katsuki shoves Dunce Face off of the couch, sending him toppling face first into the remainder of his dinner. 

“Thank--thanks, Kaminari. Heh, you’re alright, too.” Deku’s attempt at flirting(??) with Kaminari is so abysmal that Katsuki barks out a laugh. 

“You two idiots would be good for each other. Quirks you can’t control and dumbass brains. Go ahead and gay it up .” Bakugou’s smirks as he triumphantly looks at the facial expressions of both Dunce and Deku, expecting embarrassment from them but only receiving confusion. 

“Bro, you’re practically in Kiri’s lap right now. I don’t think you get to talk about what’s gay or not.” Sero butts in with him dumb and useless opinion. 

“YOU KNOW WHAT?! YOU’RE GAY! HOW ABOUT THAT FOR TALKING ABOUT WHAT’S GAY!? IT’S YOU, SCOTCH TAPE. YOU’RE THE GAYEST ONE HERE!”

“I am a heterosexual,” Sero sighs. “You, flower boy, are not.” 

Katsuki shouldn’t have been as bothered by that statement as he was. Everyone knew. There was nothing taboo about saying it out loud. 

“Whatever.” 

He finishes his food in relative silence. Simply listening as Ashido distracts Sero and Kaminari with a dumb story, Kirishima adding something occasionally. 

“You good?” Kirishima whispers in his ear. It was probably so no one would notice the two were talking but it caused Katsuki to jump a bit. “Sorry.”

“I’m fucking peachy.” Katsuki murmurs back. 

“Hey! No canoodling in the common areas!” Teacher’s pet is standing now, pointing directly at Katsuki and Eijirou. 

“FUCK OFF, PANTY TWISTER! WE’RE JUST TALKING . I’LL SHOW YOU FUCKING CANOODLING! ” Katsuki is yelling back, and before he can think too hard about what he’s doing, he slides into Kirishima’s lap fully, pulls the redheads arms from his sides and wraps them around his waist like a seatbelt. “THERE!” Katsuki shouts “IF YOU’RE NOT CAREFUL, MAYBE I’LL CANOODLE YOUR MOM! OR YOUR DAD ! WOULD YOU LIKE THAT, LIGHTNING McQUEEN ?! WANT ME TO SNUGGLE YOUR DAD?!”

Dunce Face and Tape Boy are rolling on the floor in silent laughter. Raccoon eyes has got her mouth covered by her hand and her phone recording. Katsuki can feel the shaking of Kirishima’s laughter from underneath him because oh my god I’m in a boy’s lap and I just threatened to be romantic with someone’s dad????? 

“I’d prefer it if you blew up my father, Bakugou.” Todoroki speaks up. 

And, for some reason, that’s the last straw that causes Midoriya to absolutely explode with laughter. 

He’s clutching his stomach, folded over like a lawn chair, with pure glee painted across his features as he wheezes and giggles. He even lets out a few good snorts. Katsuki swears that he can see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. 

Dumb Deku’s not even laughing at Katsuki, but it still makes his mouth run dry. Something about it makes him feel antsy, like it has to do with him. 

Katsuki frowns as the shot of energy he’d accumulated wears off. 

“I’ll blow up everyone’s dad.” He grumbles. 

Kirishima snorts in Katsuki’s ear, head now perched on the blond’s shoulder. As if noticing Katsuki tense, Kirishima pulls back a bit and loosens his grip, allowing the angry teen to slide out of his lap and back into his spot on the couch. 

“Hey, leave mine alone! I like my dad!” Sero complains. 

“Too bad, you’re dad’s getting snuggled and then blown up. Double trouble.” 

“You wouldn’t dare!” Sero is smiling and he throws a useless punch in Katsuki's direction. It’s easily blocked. 

“Oh, Tape Bitch, I would. And I’ll be the big spoon.”

Sero lets out a war cry and then shoots tape at Katsuki, who, having predicted the move, ducks and allows for Kirishima to be hit in the face. 

“I’ve been hit! Avenge me, Bakubabe!” Kirishima dramatically pretends to die before wrestling with the tape now on his face, trying desperately not to wax an eyebrow off my accident. 

“Alright, Tapey! That’s it! I’m blowing up your whole patriarchy! First you, THEN your dad!”

Chapter Text

Waking up on a Wednesday morning to a text from Shitty Hair that says “Good morning babe!” is one of those things that if the current Bakugou told Bakugou from two months ago about it, past Bakugou would laugh in his face. 

And yet here we fucking are.

The light of Katsuki’s phone screen in his still dark room causes the blond to squint as he types out a “gudmornin” to send back to Kirishima. Once the telltale sound of the text being sent rings through the otherwise quiet room, Katuski immediately shuts the phone off and shoves his face into his pillow. 

There is another ding that is highly likely to also be Kirishima. 

Katsuki hasn’t been sleeping well.He stays up much later than he’d like to, mulling over the feeling of Kirishima’s mouth on his. His finger ghosts over his bottom lip at the thought. 

It’s been three days since the first kiss, and there is already a new routine in Katsuki’s life. Wake up at the normal alarm, shower, and then meet Kirishima outside of his room to walk down to the kitchen together. Kirishima likes his coffee just as sugary, so, to appear tough, Katsuki’s been drinking it black. 

Katsuki shakes his head at the idea of having to drink another cup of the bitter substance, and finally rolls out of bed to actually start his day. 

He’s oddly serene as he goes through the motions, a new bliss having overcome him after the disappearance of the Hanahaki symptoms being enough to solidify that Katsuki was not going to die. 

When he’s ready to go down and eat some cereal, Katsuki sends another text to Kirishima that says “I’m coming over” and locks his door for the day. 

Eijriou’s sleepy smile is a nice thing to see in the early morning, and he greets Katsuki with a quick peck on the cheek. 

“Hey, how’d you sleep?”

“Great. You know I don’t have bad nights.” Katsuki lies.

Kirishima chuckles a bit before he starts walking with the blond towards the elevators.

The morning sun shines gently through the large windows of the common area, casting a soft glow over the couch, where, once again, someone is snoring. 

Katsuki dramatically sighs and walks towards the Deku lump, this time opting to smack the nerd on the head with one of the notebooks from the floor. 

“Get up, fuckjuice.” 

“Kachannnnnnnnn. Go ‘way” Sleepy Izuku mumbles, lazily swatting his arm out in a shitty attempt to defend himself. 

“Idiot, if you don’t stop sleeping down here I’ll have to blow up the couch.”

Deku sits up and rubs his eyes, his tank top is too big and hangs off his frame, dipping low and showing off collarbones.  Holy shit, there’s freckles on his collarbones, too? I never noticed.

“Why not blow up something productive?” Deku is mid yawn as he lazily snaps back. “Like your bad report card?” 

It’s a low blow, even for the nerd. 

“I’m smarter than you’re whole goddamn family you motherfucking--”

“Ka-- Bakugou . It’s too early for this,” Kirishima grumbles before dragging Katsuki away and towards the kitchen. He pauses to turn his head and say “Morning, Midoriya!” and then continues his quest for sustenance. 

As usual these past few days of the new morning routine, a fuzzy haired and bleary eyed Deku eventually waddles over to where Bakugou and Kirishima are eating breakfast, and joins them. It’s not awkward, and if it was, all three would be too sleepy to notice. 

Today, Izuku’s up from his spot a bit faster than normal, and is present for the making of coffee. Katsuki scoffs at Kirishima’s sugar cocktail and moves to take a sip of his disgustingly bitter drink. 

“Kacchan, you okay?” Deku’s tilting his head like a confused puppy as he drinks from his own mug.. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Katsuki grits his teeth, glaring. 

“You hate black coffee.”

“No he doesn’t? He’s been drinking it every day!” Kirisima grins, lightly patting Bakugou on the shoulder. Out of reflex, Katsuki flinches a bit. Kirishima does not notice. 

Deku gives Katsuki a weird mix between a pointed look and a confused one, shrugs, and then sets his All Might mug down so he can stretch his arms above his head and crack his back. 

The rising sun is streaming through one of the large common area windows in soft rays, illuminating tiny particles of dust that dance around Midoriya as he shuts his eyes and breathes deeply. As his arms work their way back to his sides, the front of the tanktop dips and shows collarbones and the top of his pectoral muscles. The morning light makes his hair look even more like a halo, and his nose scrunches up as a yawn comes over him. His small, pink lips part delicately as the yawn happens. 

“--kugo! Bakugou!” 

Katsuki whips his head towards Kirishima, who’s waving his arms. 

“Huh?”

“Dude, you were totally zoned out, there! Finish your coffee, babes. Hah, you had such a weird look on your face…” Kirishima trails off, sniggering to himself. 

“I don’t look weird.” Is all Katsuki says before chugging the rest of his mug and sulking off to put on his uniform. 

••

Bakugou has already turned in all of his missing work. He’s that smart. There was no way he was gonna let Yaoyorozu get such a big lead. 

It’s nice to be back to a sense of normalcy. The whole class seems to be relieved that they don’t have to deal with Katsuki being a living time bomb. 

Aizawa still gives the blond strange looks, but Katsuki’s learning to ignore them despite the discomfort they cause. 

The normalcy is rudely interrupted by Bakugou’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his pants. He risks taking a look at it despite Aizawa’s policies, and he regrets it immediately. 

1 new message from: Hag

Katsuki knows that if he ignores the message, she’ll keep texting. Or worse, she’d call him. And if he didn’t answer that, the bitch might even resort to calling Aizawa, and that is not something that Bakugou would appreciate. She probably wants details on his health and Aizawa seems like he might be a snitch and if she catches wind of him and Kirishima... nope not going there.

His best bet is to answer the text. 

Unlike Dunce Face, Katsuki knows better than to try and sneak a text back to his mother during Aizawa’s class. The man’s got freaky eyeballs and they see everything . In fact, Katsuki is lucky the guy didn’t notice him checking his lock screen. 

The blond sighs, and raises his hand. Which is relatively weird for him to do. However, he needs Aizawa to actually agree. 

“Yes?” Aizawa calls on him, eyes narrowing. 

“Need to piss.” 

“Go ahead. Hurry back, though. Don’t stroll the hallways.” 

“Whatever.” 

Katuski strolls through the hallways and towards the bathroom, pulling out his phone from his pocket. He lazilly unlocks his phone, rounds the hallway corner, and scrolls to the message app. 

He’s glad he’s in the bathroom once he reads the test, because the distance between where he’s hiding and the classroom should be enough of a sound buffer for the strangled sound Katsuki lets out. 

Hag: School called. Said you’re all good. When will we get to meet her? 

Shit fuck damn ass fuck shit fuck fuck shit fuck shit.

Being with Kirishima had put Bakugou in a haze. A false sense of security where he could simply hold a boy’s hand and feel as though he matters. That safety bubble has now popped, spat in his face, and called him useless.

What do I tell my mom?

 “What makes u think she wants to meet u?” 

Is what Katsuki ends up typing back. He holds his breath as the thought bubble appears on the screen, indicating his mother writing out another message. 

Hag: I created you, little shit. Of course she wants to meet me. 

Something in the line “I created you” makes Katsuki feel a little sick to his stomach. Objectively, his mom was right. She was the reason that he was alive. Additionally, she had given him food, shelter, and a home. Mistuki Bakugou was the reason for Katsuki’s temper, for his motivation and desire to impress. Everything Katsuki does, when it comes down to it, is for her. To prove to her that he can be as good as

“Kacchan..? You okay? Aizawa sent me to find you. You’ve been gone a while.” 

“Fuck off, Deku.” 

Katsuki pockets his phone, ignoring as it buzzes again, signifying another text from his mother. 

“If you’re done, we should go back. The teachers are switching soon and we’re starting a new math unit. And you just got caught up so it would be a shame if--”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Katsuki folds his arms. 

“Do you ever treat people kindly? Or is that just saved for Kirishima?”

“YOU FUCKING--”

Katsuki is cut off by the unmistakable sound of an All Might ringtone, and he quickly fishes his hand into his pocket to turn his phone off. Before hitting decline, the blond shoots a quick glance at the caller ID and grimaces. Katuski looks at Deku, and then at the phone in his hand, internally debating who he would rather deal with right now. 

The answer is clear, but Katsuki sucks it up and answers the phone nonetheless. 

“What?”

“IS THAT ANY WAY TO GREET YOUR MOTHER?!” Mitsuki’s angry voice shoots through the phone at such a high volume that Katsuki is positive Deku can hear every syllable clearly. 

“I need to go back to class. What do you want?” Katsuki keeps his phrases short to hide the tinge of fear in his voice. 

“You’re lucky I’m even letting you go to that stupid, usless school! You’re supposed to be training to be some hero, but all you do is get yourself kidnapped or sick! You have done nothing but embarrass yourself! The least you could do as thanks is introduce me to the girl that for some reason is choosing to deal with you!” 

Katsuki’s mouth goes dry as he stands there with the phone up to his ear. 

Deku’s still there, because of course he is, standing there with his fist clenched and a pained expression on his face.

He pities you. You deserve this.

“She’s busy.” Katsuki responds into the phone. 

“Is she? Does she have a work study? It is Uraraka, isn’t it? She’s always been great! I can’t wait to ask her what she sees in you.” 

“I’ve gotta go.” Katsuki grumbles. 

“Katsuki. I want her here by 11. This weekend. Got it?” 

“Fuck off.”

“YOU GODDAMN BRAT! AGREE BEFORE I COME OVER THERE MYSELF!” 

The mere idea of Bakugou’s mom making her way to campus again makes Katsuki’s blood run cold. 

“Fine.” He grumbles. And before his mom can respond again, Katsuki hangs up. 

Midoriya’s still standing there like an awkward tree. He keeps opening his mouth like he wants to say something, but then closing it again. It’s pissing Katsuki the hell off. 

It’s always Deku that sees him like this. No matter how hard Katsuki tries to rebuild the image that he was once seen as. There’s always gotta be something where Deku just has to worm his way into Bakugou’s business at the worst possible time. 

Katsuki is tired of the pitying looks. He’s tired of being looked down upon. He’s just tired .

“If you’ve got something to say, fucking say it.”

Iuzku clenches his jaw before letting out a huge sigh and running a hand through his hair. 

“Kacchan,” the dork looks pained. Like he has to force this out of his mouth. “you could tell her, you know.” 

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Bakugou responds, putting his phone back into his pocket once more so that his hands can form shaky fists. 

“Auntie wants what’s best for you. She loves you so--”

Katsuki has no memory of moving towards Deku. All he knows is that one moment, he was by the sinks and Midoriya was by the bathroom entrance. The next moment, his fist was colliding with Deku’s jaw. 

“ You don’t get to tell me who does and does not love me.” Katsuki snarls, pulling his hand back and winding up for another punch at Deku’s face. His nose would look good broken. It’d bring out his eyes. 

Deku puts his hand out and easily stops the hit. 

“Are you a child?” He sounds exasperated as he steps out of Bakugou’s reach, one for all crackling through his veins just in case the blond tries to hit him again. 

“THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!” Katsuki yells, already gearing up to send a blast at the shorter idiot’s face. 

“You’re like a kid!” Deku groans, pulling on the ends of his own hair in frustration while continuously side-stepping out of Katsuki’s reach. “Someone says something you don’t like and you just throw a tantrum! You can’t just punch your problems away, Kacchan!”

“Seems to be working so far.” Katsuki growls, closing the space between the two teens and body slamming Deku into the bathroom wall. 

It’s vaguely reminiscent of the incident after hero training when Katsuki had threatened him in the locker room. Both are glaring at each other, a bruise blooming beautifully on Deku’s lower jaw. The nerd stands his ground, not moving to escape from Katsuki’s arms caging him in. He simply fumes, his quirk dancing around his features and making his eyes glint and reflect red. 

Katsuki can’t really remember the last time he saw Deku this angry. 

“You’re a dick.” Deku says. His voice is calm, level, and foregin.

“WHA?” Katsuki is exasperated as Deku lightly shoves him backwards so that he can walk back towards the bathroom exit.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Kacchan. Go ahead and bring a girl to your parents. Go ahead and let yourself be miserable. It’s not my fucking problem.” Deku’s shaking now. Katsuki isn’t sure why. “I’m going back to class. Show up when you feel like it. Or don’t. I’m sure Kirishima can give you the notes.”

And just like that, Deku’s gone. 

••

Katsuki does, eventually, come back to class. Ectoplasm is halfway through the math lesson when the blond finally makes his appearance. 

“Ah, feeling better, Bakugou? Midoriya said you were constipated.” Ectoplasm welcomes him back to the classroom, and Katsuki doesn’t even have snark to retaliate with. He just slips into his seat, and feels nothing.

There are no eyes burning holes into the back of his head. 

The lesson is simple enough that Katsuki catches on quickly. There will be no need to borrow Kirishima’s notes. In fact, Bakugou will probably have to help Shitty Hair study the material. 

Take that, fucking Deku. I don’t need anyone’s help. 

Why Deku had been so pissed about Kirishima, Katsuki had no idea. Why Deku had been pissed in the first place was a bit of a mystery. Yeah, Bakugou had punched the guy, but it’s not like that isn’t a regular occurrence. Midoriya swearing was definitely new. Katsuki had heard it happen before, but not any combination swears. Never one after the other. 

Good for him. Pulling the stick out of his ass.

Ectoplasm is spewing some crap about finding end behavior of a function, but Katsuki isn’t really listening. 

He’s looking out his usual window at the clouds, and it causes his mind to wander to a little girl in an apartment with a shitty sofa. She likes her window seat in the kitchen so that she can gaze at the world while she eats with her family. 

Her family with two dads. 

Bakugou wonders, just for a moment, what would happen if he did tell his mom. How would she react if he walked through the doors of his childhood home with Shitty Hair on his arm? 

She would probably get mad, accusing Katsuki of not showing her the real person. She would make it out to be some sort of twisted prank.

That’s what you are. Twisted.

The rest of his classes come and go, with Katsuki not really paying attention to any of them. Quirk History was boring, there was no hero training today, Midnight still was talking about dumb statues in Art, and Mic kept stopping in the middle of his lecture on relative pronouns to yell at Mineta for throwing notes at Asui. 

All in all, a pretty lame day. 

When the final bell rings, Mina bounces her way over to Katsuki’s desk. She’s got Sero, Kaminari, and of course Kirishima trailing her. The group has started congregating so that they can all walk back to the dorms together. 

“Hey, Bakubro, can you go over the thing we did in math again with me? Oh, shit! You only got the second half, nevermind I can ask--”

“Of fucking course I know how to do it, Raccoon Eyes” Katsuki cuts Kaminari off, smacking him upside the head as he shoulders his bag. 

“Oh! Sweet! You don’t mind if I borrow him too, right, Kiri?” Denki jokes, jabbing Shitty Hair in the ribs and smirking at his own joke.

Kirishima only blushes and lets out an awkward laugh. 

“Nah, you can have him. Just make sure he has his nap.” 

“OI! I DON'T FUCKING NAP YOU IDIOTS!” Katsuki immediately takes the bait of Kirishima’s teasing, moving to smack all four of the fuckfaces surrounding him as they all make their way towards the front doors of the school. 

It’s raining outside. A sunshower, to be exact. 

Immediately, Ashido squeals with delight and sprints out into the rain. Several other students seem to be enjoying the weather as well. Momo’s making umbrellas for anyone who asks by the door, and Katsuki grabs one, giving her a curt nod as thanks. 

“You don’t like rain without the sun, what difference does it make?” Katsuki complains, watching his friends get soaked.

“It’s the vibe, Blasty! The vibe is better!” Sero insists.  He tilts his head upwards and lets his face get sprayed. 

They walk back to the dorms like that, with four idiots pressing around in the water and probably ruining their homework while Katsuki trails behind with his umbrella. It’s a nice scene, watching the dumbasses have fun. Sero and Kaminari are jumping in puddles, Ashido is spinning in circles, and Kirishima keeps looking behind him, back at Bakugou with a very sweet grin. 

Most of 1-A is still outside when they reach the porch. Asui is jumping around in the water with Kouda and Uraraka. Tokoyami is underneath the shelter of the porch, watching fondly. Jirou waves excitedly at Kaminari and races back into the water to chase him. 

Katsuki, against his better judgement, lowers his umbrella and allows the rain to hit his hair when Kirishima pokes him and says “Tag!”, trying to get him to join Jirou and Kaminari’s game. Their bags are deposited underneath the shelter and soon, all who are still outside are participating. The group gets bigger, and Deku’s lame friends join the game as well. But Katsuki doesn’t really care as he bolts across the wet lawn in an attempt to tag a screeching, giggling Kirishima. 

 Because the universe hates them, the amount of rain increases tenfold, absolutely pummeling the students with water. It gets harder to see through the spray, and classmates turn into blobs of color. 

Katsuki is smiling ever so slightly even as the clouds roll in and the sunshower becomes a storm. 1-A begin to grab their bags and accept towels from Yaoyorozu before heading inside to dry off. Kirishima’s holding his hand, and no one even comments on it. Because at this point, it’s starting to be normal.

After everyone has dried off, the class sits around the common area as normal. Katsuki’s group is on their regular sofa, fighting over a bowl of popcorn like a pack of wolves. Behind them, Momo is holding her study group at the dining table. Hagakure is braiding Tsu’s hair by the TV. 

 Parallel to the Bakusquad, is dumb Deku and his friends. Todoroki is being used as a space heater by Uraraka, who is snuggled into his side. She yawns, and Iida starts lecturing her about her sleeping habits. 

Through all of this, Deku stays quiet, smiling, but clearly elsewhere. The nerd is rubbing at his jaw where the bruise Katsuki gave him earlier today is. His hair is still damp, and sticks to his forehead in tiny green curls. His mouth is in a pout. His eyebrows are furrowed. 

And then he looks up. 

He looks up and meets Katsuki’s eyes. From the opposite side of the room, Katsuki is frozen like a deer in headlights simply by the weird look Deku is giving him. It’s not anger. It’s not pity. 

It’s disappointment. 

••

Katsuki is seven years old and eating a popsicle. Deku’s trailing behind him, as usual, while they walk the usual route from their primary school to the street they both live on. 

The blonde’s got one hand outstretched in front of him, letting off tiny explosions, while the other holds the treat up to his mouth, staining his lips a teal color. Deku’s using both of his hands to hold a chocolate ice cream cone. 

“Are you sure your mom won’t be mad that we used the money to buy ice cream?” Small Deku asks tentatively between bites. 

“Nah,” Katsuki grins, letting off a particularly big explosion. “We bought what she wanted.” The blonde gestures at his pocket, where a lottery ticket is tucked away. 

“But what if she wanted the extra money back?” 

“Deku,” Katsuki groans. “You’re such a baby. If she gets mad you tell her it was my idea and then you won’t get yelled at.” 

Deku stares at Katsuki with eyes full of wonder and a mouth full of chocolate. 

“Really, Kacchan?! You’re so brave!” 

“Yeah. I am.” 

When the two arrive home with sticky fingers, and Mitsuki begins her yelling, Katsuki takes all of the blame. Deku walks home, knowing he won’t see Katsuki for a while due to him being grounded, and has the same fucking look on his face.

Disappointment.

••

Katsuki coughs. 

Just once. 

It’s dry and barely noticeable. 

Nothing he couldn’t handle. Because he’s not a bitchboy. 

Everyone in the room seems to fall silent nonetheless, turning to face Bakugou. Kirishima tilts his head in confusion, eyebrows furrowing.

“You good?” Sero asks before Kirishima can.

The class holds its breath for his answer. 

Katsuki scoffs and ruffles his own still wet hair. He opens his mouth to speak, but there’s some sort of blockage in his throat. He clears it quickly, grimacing slightly at the scratchiness it causes. 

He coughs again. 

A third time. 

“Baku…?” It’s Kirishima this time, and he reaches out to place a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. The redhead pats him on the back. Once. 

No.

Katsuki knows. He knows when his back gets pat. He knows when he feels his lungs tighten slightly from the contact. He knows when he feels his eyes tear up and water as a crowd of concerned classmates begin to surround him while he coughs and sputters. 

Please no.

Bakugou turns and looks Kirishima in the eyes, desperately trying to communicate with silence.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry I knew I didn’t deserve you. I knew I couldn’t have this. I knew I didn’t deserve this. 

A single rose, fully in bloom and brightly colored, comes up from Katsuki’s mouth and lands in his lap.

I am unlovable.

Chapter Text

The day Kacchan had gotten his quirk, Izuku had watched it happen. The whole of their preschool class had circled around and marveled at the tiny explosions fired from Bakugou’s palms. The sparks reflected in his red eyes, and Izuku remembers thinking “Wow”

He still thinks “wow” when he looks at Katsuki. There’s a lot to be in awe of. His bravery, his drive and determination, the way he moves with such confidence, the way he laughs when he knows he’s succeeded at something. Izuku could go on. And he has.

Notebook after notebook of analyses. Pro Heroes, yes. Well known quirks, of course. But also pages upon pages of Katsuki. Possible hero costume designs that would benefit his quirk, a rundown of fighting tactics he used, sketches of his hands. Always, always Katsuki.

So, it had been hella weird for Katsuki to be the one who woke him up when Izuku had fallen asleep on the common area sofa. 

All around him were notes on both Hanahaki and Kacchan himself. Izuku must’ve passed out from exhaustion. He had been researching possible antidotes that would allow Kacchan to live without being in love with someone. 

“Oi. Shitstain. Wake up.”

“Mmmmm” Hearing Kacchan’s voice first thing in the morning was a weird bridge between what Izuku’s dream had been about and the real world. “M’tired.”

“Fucking obviously. Sleeping out in the commons. Come on, wake up.” 

Bakugou had hit Midoriya’s face until his eyes opened. On instinct, Izuku had tried to shield his face with his arms. It felt nostalgic in a way, and for a moment Midoriya catches a whiff of the smell that Katsuki’s childhood bedroom had when they’d had sleepovers. 

“Kacchannnnnnnnnn,”He groaned, arms still covering his face. If he shut his eyes again, he could pretend they were six. No terminal disease, no league of villains, just two little kids who wanted to be heroes. “What time s’it?” 

Katsuki had rolled his eyes, scoffed, and then stared for a moment. He looked worse for wear, but from his spot on the couch, all Izuku could do was look up and think wow.

“6:30. Hour before bell. Coffee should be ready.” 

The two had drank their coffee together, sitting on  or leaning against the counter. Midoriya pretended not to see Katsuki drown his coffee in sugar and cream, just like he pretends not to know Katsuki’s favorite candle scent, color, or zoo animal. 

They had been close to each other, so much so that they almost touched. If a shoulder or leg shifted, there would be contact. 

Izuku had so much he wanted to say.

••

When Kacchan had nearly drowned in the USJ, Izuku hadn’t thought twice about throwing the relay race in order to help him. His body moved on its own, abandoning the assigned task in favor of wrapping an arm securely around Katsuki’s waist and breaching the surface. The only thing on Izuku’s mind, as always, was Kacchan.

Everything was so loud. The gasp of his classmates, the sound of rushing water, his own panicked calls for help. 

Of course, Aizawa had known what to do, and once Kacchan had started to breathe again, Izuku was ordered to be his pillow while everyone waited for the blond to awake. 

Katsuki’s face had been eerily peaceful in his unconscious state. No furrowed eyebrows, no scowl, no lip turning into a snarl. Simply Katsuki in his raw and organic form. 

Wow .

Izuku hadn’t really thought twice about the blond’s head being in his lap until said blond startled awake with a cough and actively tried to get away from him. 

And then he’d gotten sick. Again. 

It was hands down one of the most horrifying things Izuku had ever seen. Kacchan, doubled over and helpless, tears in his eyes, coughing up flower after flower. That scene was permanently burned into Izuku’s brain, sitting next to the memories of Katsuki’s kidnapping, Eri’s rescue, and All Might’s resignation at Kamino. 

All of these memories were swirling around Izuku’s mind at once as he sat on a sofa, staring blankly out a dorm window. Classes for the day had finally ended, and everyone was sitting around and pretending that Bakugou hadn’t nearly died again. 

Mina was out picking up some soup for him. She’d asked Izuku before leaving what Katsuki’s favorite kind was. Izuku gave his top three answers and told her to pick whatever was cheapest because Kacchan likes the artificial taste when he’s sick. 

And boy, was he sick . 

“Deku?” 

Izuku shifts his gaze from the window to face Uraraka, who just plopped down in the empty seat next to him. She gives him a tight smile that seems a bit forced. 

“Hmm?” 

“You’re spacing out.” Ochako pokes him on the nose.

“Oh! Heh, sorry.” 

“Did you want to go get boba with Tsu and I? We were thinking of asking Todoroki and Iida, too.” 

“I think I’ll pass on this one, but thanks for asking!” Izuku turns to face the window once again. “I’ve got some homework I need to do.” 

“Are you sure? I think going out might take your mind off of--”

DING!

The sound of the elevator doors opening distracts the duo, and they both look up. Kirishima stands there, holding onto the wrist of a very disheveled Bakugou.

Kacchan.

Saying he looks awful would be an understatement. He’s got on that hoodie he only wears when he’s sick, but it’s got a bit of blood stained around the collar. His eyes are sunken in and his face is pale. Blond hair sticks out so far he looks like a Pomeranian. If it weren’t for the obvious tones of illness, he’d look cute with the bedhead. 

Stop it. Thinking like that is counterproductive. You’ve analyzed plenty of Hanahaki cases at this point, Izuku. There is absolutely nothing cute about the way that Kacchan’s palms are covered by the sleeves of that hoodie or how he’s too worn out to scowl. And even if there was then that doesn’t give you the right to think something like that. You aren’t sure that the person he loves is you, yet. Although it would be amazing if it was. Imagine what you two could accomplish as a hero duo? All Might would be so proud. Speaking of All Might, you should text him. Give him an update. And maybe mom, too? Or Auntie. She’s probably worried so--

“Oh! Hey, Baku! Good to see you up and attem!  I totally would have just sent this up to you, though.” Ashido waltzes through the dorm front doors with the convenience store bag. Kacchan looks pained. He glares at Kirishima, and it’s almost a relief.

He’s still in there.

Kirishima murmurs something to Bakugou that no one else can hear, and it makes Kacchan’s face go tomato red.

“Ashdio. My room. Bring the soup.” 

People start to cheer as Kacchan pushes Kirishima off the elevator and closes its doors to go back up to his floor. From beside him, Ochako claps excitedly and yells encouragement to Mina as the pink hero in training makes her way towards the stairwell. 

“Wh--why are you clapping?” Izuku scratches his head, confused at his friend’s enthusiasm. 

“Because Bakugou’s going to confess! To Ashido! Why else would he ask to see her in private?” 

Midoriya snorts. He can’t stop himself in time. It evolves into a quiet chuckle that he tries and fails to lower the volume of.

“What’s so funny?” Todoroki makes his way over to their sofa, looking deeply confused. 

“Deku’s laughing at Bakugou for confessing.” Uraraka rolls her eyes, glaring at Izuku in exasperation. 

“No, no,” Deku calms himself down. “I’m laughing because that’s what you think is happening.”

“What else would be happening?” 

“He’s embarrassed . Kacchan doesn’t like being seen as weak, and he looked surprised to see so many people. Also, judging by the glare he gave Kirishima, he did not want to come downstairs in the first place. He was most likely bribed. Add on to that the shocked looks on most people’s faces due to his arguably bad condition, he simply wanted to escape the public eye and have his soup in peace. Ashdio will be back downstairs in a few moments.” 

Ochako and Todoroki exchange a weird look. 

“You sure know a lot about Bakugou, Midoriya.” Todoroki deadpans. 

“Heh, yeah. I guess I do.” 

As Izuku predicted, Ashdio comes back downstairs after about fifteen minutes. Hagakure, Kaminari, Sero, Jirou, and a few others swarm her asking for details. She just giggles and shakes her head. 

“No, Blasty isn’t in love with me,” she snorts “He just wanted his soup.” 

“Are you sure? You two seem awfully close…”Hagakure prods. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, he’s like my lame older brother! I wouldn’t date him even if he wanted to.” 

The crowd of snoops quiet down and Izuku gives Uraraka and Todoroki a smug look. 

“Told you.”

“Impressive,” Ochako says with a roll of her eyes. “Are you absolutely positive you’re passing on boba with the gang?”

Midoriya nods firmly. 

“Okay! Have fun yearning, then,” She grins, standing up and crackling her back. “Let’s go, Todo! We have to find Tsu and Iida.”

“Whoa whoa whoa! Wait--wha--what? What do you mean by--” Izuku lowers his paranoid shout to a whisper “You think I’m yearning?!”

“Um, duh? You like Bakugou, right? That’s why you’re being so weird about this Hanahaki stuff?”

“I’m ‘weird about it’ ” Izuku mocks Ochako’s voice ”because I don’t want Kacchan to die ! Hanahaki can be deadly!” 

Besides, yearning is not currently in my schedule. This is solely reflection time. I have homework to do and I still haven’t texted my mom back. All Might wants to go on a run in an hour or so. Would I have time to do all of that before dinner? No, probably not. But if I divided up the math work and saved art history for after dinner then I might be able to fit in some time to--

“I don’t want Bakugou to die...”Todoroki scratches his chin and Midoriya yelps as he breaks from his stupor. “Am I yearning, too?”

“No.” Uraraka and Midoriya speak at the same time.

“Yearning means you have a crush , Todoroki!” Ochako tries to explain.

“Midoriya wants to crush Bakugou?”

“No, silly! Deku wants to kiss--”

“I think that’s enough!” Izuku cuts her off. “You guys go and have fun. I’ll be here.”

“Yearning.” 

“.....I’ll be here.” 

••

The commons had been relatively empty on Sunday. Deku had been lazing around with his friends, homework finished and mother texted. The doors had swung open, and Midoriya hadn’t thought twice about Kacchan and Kirishima walking inside together. It wasn’t until Hagakure squealed that it hit him. 

It’s Kirishima.

Of course it’s Kirishima. 

Who else would it be?

••

Izuku eats breakfast with Kirishima and Bakugou a few times. Neither of them notice the tension. Or, if they do, they don’t say anything. 

I wonder how many times they’ve kissed?

••

Kachhan’s phone buzzed before math class. 

Izuku watched him check the message. 

Katsuki’s face had paled for a split second, and the blond began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He asked to go to the bathroom. 

Six minutes pass.

“Midoriya. Go check on him.”

Aizawa had barely finished the order before Izuku was shooting out of his seat and down the hall towards the bathrooms. 

Kacchan is there. On his phone and looking more sick than usual.

“Kacchan..? You okay? Aizawa sent me to find you. You’ve been gone a while.” 

“Fuck off, Deku.” 

Of course. Why would he want to talk to you? It’s not like you could help him. You’ve never been good at helping him.

“If you’re done, we should go back.” Just try to gently get him calm “ The teachers are switching soon and we’re starting a new math unit. And you just got caught up so it would be a shame if--”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Katsuki folded his arms. 

“Do you ever treat people kindly?” What the fuck am I saying? This is dangerous. “Or is that just saved for Kirishima?”

Oh my god I’m dead why did I--

“YOU FUCKING--”

Yep. I’m dead. I’m so so dead. Sorry, All Might. Sorry, mom. It’s too late for me. It was a nice run. 

Kacchan’s phone rings. 

Should I leave? 

Katsuki picks up.

I should definitely leave.

Deku turns to do so, but the sound of Mitsuki’s voice raging from the other end makes him pause. She hasn’t changed a bit. But Kacchan…

Izuku stares awkwardly at Katsuki, who is biting his own tongue and looks mildly afraid.

….he’s changed so much.

“If you’ve got something to say, fucking say it.” Is the first thing out of Kacchan’s mouth once the call ends. 

It’s not my place.

“Kacchan,” I am a fool and a buffoon who needs to stop immediately “you could tell her, you know.” 

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” 

Yes, I do. 

“Auntie wants what’s best for you. She loves you so--”

Deku sees the punch happen more than he feels it. He should have been ready, since he poked the beast himself. This was the predicted outcome. 

“You don’t get to tell me who does and does not love me.” 

I know.

Deku stops the hit, and even considers punching back.

It’s not fair. All of my life I’ve chased after this boy. After a quirk, yes. But to catch up to him. To be a hero with him. And now I’ve got the best quirk of them all and it just makes him mad. And he loves his best friend who loves him back because how could you not? How could anyone turn a blind eye to the incredible, passionate, amazing person that I’ve known since I was a kid. God he’s such a fucking brat sometimes. Why couldn’t I like someone else? Todoroki seems nice. Kacchan can just act like a

“Are you a child?”

WHAT AM I SAYING???????????? THIS IS SO BAD. STOP IT. STOP BRAIN. STOP IT NOW . Why would I call him out? What was the point? Now he just hates you more you dummy! 

“THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!” 

“You’re like a kid!” Izuku dodges another hit. “Someone says something you don’t like and you just throw a tantrum! You can’t just punch your problems away, Kacchan!”

“Seems to be working so far.” Katsuki growls before slamming Izuku into the bathroom wall.

Fuck. I deserved that. 

“You’re a dick, Kacchan.” 

I love you.

“WHA?” 

“You’re a fucking asshole, Kacchan. Go ahead and bring a girl to your parents. Go ahead and let yourself be miserable. It’s not my fucking problem.” Why won’t you let yourself be happy? “I’m going back to class. Show up when you feel like it. Or don’t. I’m sure Kirishima can give you the notes.”

••

Izuku feels bad. 

He feels bad for what he said to Katsuki,  for being so shitty about the Kirishima thing, that Kacchan doesn’t trust his mom, that he’s wasted all this time trying to obtain the only thing that has remained unreachable in his life. 

Also, his jaw hurts.

But,when it comes down to it, Kirishima makes Kacchan happy. And that was what matters. 

Maybe Izuku had caught himself staring at the couple a bit more than he should. Maybe it just came off that he’s happy for them. Which he is. Because Kacchan definitely needs someone. 

Yeah, he’s been feeling pretty bad, lately.

But when Katsuki, in front of everyone, barfs up another flower, Deku feels awful.

Kacchan had been so close to feeling happy. Izuku could tell. Yes, there was angst but he’d finally found the support he needed to work through some emotions. He was finally starting to accept love from others. He was changing and it was good. But something had stopped him.

What was it?

Izuku thinks back to his notes. The ones he took and studied every night on the common room sofa, sometimes falling asleep in the process as he poured over a way to ensure that Bakugou Katsuki survives this. 

The first big Hanahaki episode happened when the two of them were in the kitchen. God, Izuku had been so terrified. Presumably, there had been a lighter bought beforehand, as Kacchan had not wanted Izuku to enter his room. That thought made Deku feel even worse. 

He does this by himself?

They continued regularly for a while, one in English, another one after class that one day when Kacchan was with his friends. But the next big one was at the USJ after he’d woken up and looked at Izuku.

And then there was the time after the rain, the most recent time. After their fight. When Katsuki had been talking but they’d made eye contact. 

Oh my god. 

It’s me.

It's the only logical conclusion Izuku can come to. The one Katsuki loves is clearly a boy, and isn’t Kirishima. That leaves Kaminari and Sero, since they’re the only two guys left Bakugou tolerates. Sero is straight. It’s Izuku or Kaminari. Kaminari has not been connected or associated with a single large bout of sickness. 

It’s me.

Katsuki, Kirishima, and everyone else in the room stare dumbly at the rose and the blood now staining Bakugou’s pants. 

The silence is deafening. No one knows what to say. Kirishima’s jaw had dropped, and he clenches it shut with enough force for it to be painful. 

The blond looks up from the flower and makes eye contact with Kirishima, looking just as surprised and scared. 

“I thought--”

“I did, too,” Katsuki whispers. “I-”

“Fuck off, man.” Kirishima’s flexing his fingers like he’s considering throwing a punch. In the end, he decides against it and storms off with the rest of Bakugou’s friends trailing awkwardly behind him, unsure of who to comfort. 

Katsuki seems like he wants to stand and go after them, but another violent cough and some petals make him stay put. 

Momo gets him some water.

All the while, through everything, Izuku stays silent and unmoving from the other side of the room. 

When he looks at Katsuki, he doesn’t see a hero. He doesn’t see courage or ambition. He doesn’t see an incredible quirk. 

Midoriya sees fear, pain, regret, and panic. 

And yet all the same he thinks

I love you.

Chapter Text

I am unlovable.

Katsuki watches Kirishima leave, and feels nothing. Kaminari and Sero follow the redhead, torn over who to give pitying looks to, and Katsuki feels nothing. Ashido hangs back a second, mouths ‘sorry’ to the blond, and then follows the group. Absoultley fucking nothing. 

More flowers are coming up now, as if that big rose had been a dam blocking the worst episode Bakugou’s had yet. Hagakure’s screaming something unintelligible, and everyone seems torn as hell over whether to help or run away. 

Momo ends up stepping up to the plate, yelling for Iida to get water. She lifts up her shirt and creates a stretcher. There are more gestures and muffled words. Uraraka scrambles over and touches Katsuki so he can be floated on the stretcher. He folds into himself, eyes squeezed shut, as Round Face of all people is his escort back to his dorm room and regular spot situated in front of the toilet. 

This is fucking dumb. Is all Katsuki can think to himself as flower after flower comes up. Of course he wouldn’t like me back.

It’s understandable that his friends would take Kirishima’s side. Who could blame them? It was crazy that Kirishima even put up with Katsuki for the few days that he had. Pretending to enjoy Katsuki’s company seemed like such a chore. It’s not Eijriou’s fault he didn’t love Katsuki back. 

Why would he?

Ochako leans on Katsuki’s sink and averts her eyes to look at his aftershave in order to avoid saying anything. She doesn’t seem to want to leave. It’s goddamn annoying.

“You can go, Pink Cheeks” Katsuki grumbles between coughs. 

“Do you need anything? Before I do?”

“What I need is you out of my goddamn face.” 

Uraraka leaves Bakugou alone as soon as it’s clear that he’s going to stay conscious while coughing up a lung, and the blond is glad to finally be alone. As fucked up as it sounds, sometimes Katsuki finds it nice to be stranded with his own thoughts. It reminds him how much harder he needs to work in order to be worth something. 

So, with flowers in his lungs, Katsuki Bakugou thinks . 

Or, at least, he tries to. 

The events of the past ten days or so are playing through his head like a film, except every scene is out of order and the movie theater is on fire which is super fucking annoying because if Katsuki gets ash on this new t-shirt he’ll probably get in trouble with his mom.

Mom.

Everything is numb and without feeling, and despite that there is still Mom. 

••

Sometimes, Katsuki wonders if life would be easier for everyone if he was never born. 

His parents probably could have moved up in Tokyo’s fashion industry, maybe design something for fucking Gucci or whatever the hell their jobs actually were. Those losers he used to hang out in middle school might have been nicer. All Might would still be the number one hero. Kirishima wouldn’t have felt the need to pretend to love him. 

But none of that matters yet, because he’s nine. 

He’s nine and his quirk is strengthening nicely. Bakugou is now able to fully blow up wood instead of singing it. He’s working on making rocks crumble after school. Sometimes Deku hides behind a corner and takes notes, but Katsuki just pretends he doesn’t notice. No point in wasting crucial quirk training on something (someone)  he already knew was flammable. 

Katsuki picks up another stone that’s a bit bigger than a baseball, holds it out in his hand, squeezes his eyes shut, and lets out a controlled explosion. The rock fragments into four or five pieces, which splinter out around Katsuki. One collides with his cheek, and a pointed edge creates a small cut. 

The blond opens his eyes and looks at his smouldering palm for a second before cheering. 

Hell yeah!

He goes through three more rocks around the same size, and then attempts one that is closer to the size of his head. The large rock isn’t one he can pick up, so Katsuki instead opts for just placing his hands on it and seeing if it will go flying. It splits in two, and the force of it sends the child tumbling backwards. He scrapes his elbow on the way down. 

Pleased with today’s success, young Katsuki makes the short walk from the park where he was practicing to the Bakugou household. It was takeout night, which only happens once every two weeks, so Katsuki is particularly excited to look at the shiny plastic menus and pick out his own meal. 

He’s got a proud smile on his face as Katsuki opens his front door, excited to tell his parents about his achievements. 

Mitsuki is on the couch, reading a magazine when the sound of shoes shuffling off and slippers going on causes her to look up and meet her son’s gaze. 

Katsuki smiles. 

Mistuki frowns.

Katsuki is starting to think he’s good at making people frown. 

“The hell happened to your face, brat?” Mitsuki sets the magazine down and makes her way over to her son, her hands clenched into fists that tighten more the longer she studies Katsuki. 

“A rock,” Katsuki responds. Despite the tension, he decides to try and cheer his mom up. “I got one to explode! I’ve been practicing a lot and--”

A whack upside the head. 

“ That’s what you’ve been doing instead of studying?! Blowing up public property?! Your grades have been slipping and you’re wasting time with rocks?”

“I still have the highest marks I can get.” Katsuki mumbles, now avoiding his mother’s gaze. 

“Bullshit. I know for a fact your math teacher is offering extra credit.” 

“If I wanna be a hero like All Might I’ve gotta practice my quirk, too.”

“ARE YOU TALKING BACK TO YOUR MOTHER?”

“NO! I’M NOT I WAS JUST--”

Mitsuki’s fist konks Katsuki on the head to shut him up.

“ Heroes ,” she hisses “know that no matter how many rocks they explode,”Mitsuki squats down to make eye contact fully with her son, “they’re worthless if they don’t have support behind them.” 

Katsuki’s eyes widen, but his mouth turns into an intense scowl. Mitsuki lifts her finger to keep him quiet, and finishes her thought.

“Don’t make me take that away from you.”

••

Katsuki’s hand lets out a blast that blows up the toilet. 

The porcelain splinters everywhere and a mixture of debris, toilet water, and flower petals now decorates his bathroom. He coughs, clears his throat, and then does an awkward crawl-shuffle towards his shower so that he can still keep the blood coming up somewhat contained. 

Bakugou finishes out the Hanahaki episode like that. Just sitting in his shower, bathroom full of toilet water, trying (and failing) to feel anything. 

Katsuki leans back and lets his head hit tile with some sort of fucked up grin on his face. He barks out a laugh, and holy shit does it hurt, but that doesn’t deter him.

It’s funny at this point. Him getting the love disease. Absolutely goddamn hilarious . The universe really dealt Katsuki a heaping scoop of karma. Of course Kirishima didn’t love him back. Instead the poor guy pretended for a few days in the hopes it would keep Bakugou alive. That must be it. 

But why? 

What had Katsuki done that made Kirishima want to keep him alive? Especially now. He seems to be mad that Bakugou got an episode in front of a bunch of people. It makes him seem bad, probably. Makes both of them look like idiots.

You are an idiot, you idiot.

Out of frustration, Katsuki aims a small blast at his showerhead. It shatters just like the toilet had. A piece hits him in the face, and causes a small cut on his cheek. The wound is shallow and barely noticeable. 

But Bakugou still splinters into shards. 

Something breaks inside of him. That seems to be a trend as of late. Walls falling down when he definitely does not want them to. Emotions coming to play that definitely were doing just fine being repressed. 

Katsuki is screaming and it hurts so fucking bad but he can’t stop, prefering to allow the reverb to cut through his throat. It’s a mixture of words like “stop” and “no” as well as sounds just to be sounds. It’s not the motivating yells of someone jumping into battle. Rather, it is the sound of someone who has already lost. 

 His eyes are squeezed shut so hard he can hear rumbling in his ears, which is nice, because it drowns everything out.

Drowning. 

He’s drowning. No one loves him and he’s stuck underwater with limited oxygen and soon he’s going to pass out and some fucking loser will save him just to prove how worthless Katsuki is. The water is blackened and so thick with debris that Katsuki cannot see his own hands in front of him. There is nothing but a steady compression of his lungs as they squeeze tighter and tighter, suffocating him. 

Bakugou lets off more explosions, his hands lit in a continuous firework show as he screams and drowns. Suffocates and cries. Desperately trying to feel anything . Wondering if maybe his mom was wrong, and he could just smash all of this to smithereens. If he destroyed enough of this room, maybe he’d wake up back in the bedroom of his childhood, All Might poster on the wall. Maybe if he just--

And then his quirk stops working. His quirk stops working and suddenly he’s reminded of when he was being slowly killed by the Sludge Villain. He’s reminded of being called inside from playing in the yard by an angry mother. Reminded of how useless a quirkless person can truly be. 

Helplessness and fear intertwine as Katsuki thrashes, wondering to himself if this was the end. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Dying quirkless, just like you deserve. 

He still can’t see and he’s still yelling but his safety net of explosions has been shut off and there’s something wrapping around him. Cloth, and then strong arms.

Katsuki tries once more to shoot out explosions blindly, with no avail. He coughs up another round of blood and flowers instead, momentarily causing enough quiet to be able to hear a voice right by his ear, belonging to the person holding him close and erasing his quirk.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” 

Despite the clear tone of Aizawa, Katsuki can’t help but hear his mom.

“I’ve got you.”

••

Bakugou is tired. 

He’s fucking exhausted and his hands are shaky as he brings the cup of chamomile tea to his lips. The boy is not coughing, not screaming or exploding things. Whether or not he’s crying is debatable. 

Aizawa’s sitting in a chair next to his infirmary bed looking at Bakugou with such intense concern that Katsuki’s skin itches. Neither of them speak for a moment. Or, maybe it was an hour. Bakugou’s not sure. 

Regardless, Bakugou cannot help but once again think about how much easier his home room teacher’s job would be if the need to babysit Katsuki wasn’t always prevalent. 

Eventually, Katsuki finishes the tea and shakily sets the empty cup down on his bedside table. 

“Kid,” Aizawa starts. He places a hand awkwardly on the bedspread and shuts his eyes for a second as if he’s praying for death. “Can you talk?”

Bakugou shrugs. 

“Can you try ?”

“Nah,” Katsuki’s response is more reflex than anything. He wasn’t going to let a chance to talk back slide. “I don’t think I can.”

“Hilarious.” 

The silence that follows is one of the most awkward situations Katsuki has ever been placed in. The blond is almost thankful when All Might opens the door, also looking tired. 

“Young Bakugou…” All Might sighs, clearly not knowing what he’s supposed to say. 

Katsuki lifts his hand in a crude parody of greeting. 

“What do you want, Grandpa?” 

All Might almost smiles at the sound of Bakugou’s usual sass. 

“I talked to Recovery Girl to help her ensure all of the legal documents are still in order.” 

“Like what?” Bakugou folds his arms and narrows his eyes.

“Agreements over what the procedure will be if you don’t find the person within a week.” 

Oh.

“Oh.”

All Might grimaces. The awkward silence returns and blankets the room. Everything is slipping underwater again. The tug of wishing to feel nothing seems to get a better grip around Katsuki’s throat. 

“Stay with us, Bakugou.” Aizawa shifts his position so his hand is on Katsuki’s shoulder. “Breathe.” 

“Wow, never thought of that. Thanks for the suggestion. You’ve always been a real genius.” 

The water level lowers back to normal. 

Aizawa sighs. All Might sighs.

Katsuki is good at making people sigh. 

“So...a week? That’s what I’ve got left?” 

“Around there, yeah.” Aizawa responds, finally retracting his hand from Katsuki’s shoulder. 

Bakugou laughs again. This time, just a few short giggles. Comedy and pain have always walked shoulder to shoulder in Katsuki’s life, and even with a terminal illness, this does not change. 

“How soon can we schedule?”

“What?” 

“You heard me,” Katsuki repeats. “When can they get me in at an actual hospital?” 

“You want to die….in the hospital?” Aizawa deadpans, exasperated.

“No, dumbass,” Katsuki smiles. Truly smiles. “I’m gonna take the flower out.” 

••

Aizawa apparently had to make some calls to see where the procedure could be done.

 While waiting for an answer, Katsuki remains numb. Everything is so funny and weird. He’s never going to love again. Which, in the end, doesn’t really matter since no one actually loves him back. All Might stands awkwardly in the corner, playing with his too long fingers and not knowing what to do. 

“You were my hero, you know,” Bakugou finds himself saying. He lets out another dry laugh at the sheer absurdity of the thought. “I wanted to be you.”

“Stop talking like you’re going to die, boy.” 

“Hypocrite.”

All Might glares at Katsuki. Katsuki glares back, triumphant. 

“You are a complete mystery to me, Bakugou Katsuki.” 

All Might seems as taken aback by his response as Katsuki is, and yet, the man continues.

“Never before have I seen someone so angry at the world around him, and yet so determined to fix it. You win, over and over again, but it’s never enough. You have to be the best, as if everything is a competition over who can help the most people. You win in order to save,” All Might takes a breath, “and yet here we are.” 

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“We have finally reached a roadblock where, instead of blowing through it, you’re giving up and stepping down. Why?”

Because I can’t win. I am not loved. I am not worth loving. I do not know how to love anyone correctly. I tried and I tried but every time something was wrong and I can’t fucking take it anymore. I need to be a hero. I need to pay for what I’ve done so the universe will leave me the fuck alone. I need more time that I don’t fucking have and I will not die because of something as lame as a fucking plant. I won’t. 

“I--”

Aizawa walks back into the room before Katsuki can answer.

“There’s a hospital in Nagano that can do the procedure on Sunday. That cuts it a little close with the timeline, but we can get you there.” 

“Alright,” Katsuki glares at All Might before turning back to Aizawa. “Full steam ahead.” 

“Would you like me to notify your parents, or would you prefer to do it yourself?” 

Both Aizawa and Bakugou already know the answer.

“You can go ahead and do it.” 

Aizawa sighs again. 

“I’ll make the call at seven. That gives them another hour to settle after work.” 

“What time is it now?”

“Six.” 

“Okay.”

“If you think you can walk, you can go back to your dorm if that’s preferable. There might be some maintenance workers in your bathroom, though.” 

Katsuki grimaces, then pauses to consider his options. Even without construction to fix whatever ended up being left of his bathroom, going back to the dorms means seeing his classmates. Talking with his teachers has already been bad enough, so Bakugou cannot imagine the mental torture that would be looking at concerned extras who are all in his business. 

“No fucking thank you.” 

“Bad word.” 

All three heads in the room whip around to face the door, where Eri is firmly gripping the corner of Mic’s jacket with her hand. 

“Sorry,” Mic throws an apologetic smile at Aizawa. “We thought you’d be finished up here and Eri wanted to go on a walk.”

“It’s fine, we’re about wrapped up here.” Aizawa stretches his hands above his head and cracks his own back before beckoning Eri over to him. 

The little girl shuffles towards her dad, smiling politely at All Might as she passes him. Sensing she’s being watched, Eri pauses for a second to greet Bakugou.

“Hi, Kacchan.” She says sweetly.

“Hey, dork.” 

“Mean word.” 

“Good observation.” 

She giggles to herself for a second, clearly lost in thought trying to come up with a response.

“You’re silly. That must be why Deku likes you.” 

“Hah?”

“That’s enough, Eri,” Suddenly Aizawa is scooping the girl up into his arms and setting her on his hip. “Let Kacchan rest.”

She nods obediently, and waves goodbye happily when Aizawa leaves the room with her, Mic trailing behind. 

All Might gives Katsuki a weird look. 

“What now?” Katsuki groans.”Got some more weird riddles to spit at me?” 

“No, no,” All Might shakes his head. “Just….thinking.” 

“Well? You have the fucking talking stick. Go ahead and use it.” 

“It’s not important. Do you want me to grab anything from your room? I’m going to pay the other students a visit.”

“Phone.” 

“Ah, I see. Anything else?”

“Nah.” 

“Okay.” 

All Might makes his way over to the door. He stands in the frame for a second, debating with himself. 

“Do you want this open or closed?” 

It’s not a weird question. It shouldn’t be. All Might is literally just asking if Katsuki wants a view out into the hallway or not. But despite that, something about the tone in the way he said it, Bakugou cannot help but have a suspicion that there’s something more underlying. This is a weird fucking test.

The two stare at each other for a few moments. Not as a UA student and teacher, but as a dying boy and the man who was once his hero. 

Katuski knows his answer. 

“Closed.” 

They’re still looking at each other when All Might shuts the door.

Chapter Text

The door to Katsuki’s room in the medical wing opens after hours that might have been seconds. Time is strange, just like the world. Strange and ugly and so fucking confusing.

Regardless, Bakugou looks up to see All Might awkwardly standing there with his phone. During the handoff, Katsuki mumbles something that might be similar to thank you, but neither person is quite sure.  

Katsuki isn’t sure of much these days.

The younger in the room takes the phone and stares blankly at a lock screen loaded with hundreds of text notifications. He grimaces, and sets in on the end table next to the hospital bed. All Might is still there, looking constipated. 

“Who shit in your pants?”

“Who... what?”

“It’s an expression, Grandpa.” 

All Might smiles weakly and folds his arms. 

“I’m glad to know you’re still in there, Katsuki.” 

“‘Mnot fuckin dead.” 

“No,” All Might sighs, turning to head back out the door, “I suppose not.”

The hero leaves it open this time. Just a crack. 

Once the footsteps of All Might walking away fade into silence, Katsuki makes a jump to actually look at his phone. There are 376 texts from various people that he should probably at least read at some point, but he really can’t be bothered to do so right now. Instead, Bakugou jumps straight to his search engine, and begins to type

Hanahaki removal surgery process

He clicks on the third result down, as the first was the synopsis for a movie that looked disgustingly mushy, and the second was just an article about the first reported case. 

As Katsuki begins to read, he starts to feel more and more unsettled.

The Hanahaki removal process has a low risk level if someone with a healing quirk is present for the surgery. Physical recovery time with proper treatment will last about 48 hours. However, emotional recovery time can take several years. It is recommended that the recipient of the surgery seek professional psychological therapy indefinitely in order to cope with both memory loss and frustration. 

Despite medical research, there still appears to be no true way to remove the plant mass in the lungs that does not result in the loss of memories associated with the loved one. This is due to the roots connection to the bloodstream. When cut, the connection between the body and the plant is severed, and the feeling goes with it. For more information, please visit the RIKEN Institute of Physical and Chemical Research,  Tokyo, Japan .

I’ll forget the person altogether.

He scans more articles after clicking the suggested link, and the walls feel like they’re beginning to close in. 

Is forgetting my first love worth being a hero? 

Katsuki mulls this over. He thinks about what love means to him, thinks about his mom. Kirishima didn’t love him, so none of that counted. Ashido didn’t love him, because she let Kirishima hurt him. His mom, however, did love him. She’d always told him that. The screaming, the yelling, the pushing him to always be better was done out of love. If Katsuki doesn’t even like the only person he knows for sure loves him, what’s the point? Who’s to say the person wouldn’t be just as indifferent, just as spiteful towards him? 

Bakugou does like hero work. He likes the feeling of his quirk coursing through his palms. He likes the danger, and the excitement, and beating the shit out of people who deserve it. 

Would I give that up for a love that might just be one-sided?

I won’t know who I forgot, because they’ll be forgotten. 

It won’t hurt me. 

Love won’t hurt me anymore.

Fuck, wouldn’t that be nice? To simply erase all of this? These weird fucking weeks of pain and vomiting and dying and learning that he is not worth loving? Even to save his life? It’s the perfect deal. The right choice. He will live and he will forget and that is what was meant to happen. 

So then why am I crying?

Of course he was crying. It’s all he ever does nowadays. He doesn’t even notice it until the sobs are wracking his body. The walls to the dam have broken so many times, over and over, to the point where they’re not being rebuilt fast enough. Katsuki will cry at a still breeze if he’s got bad thoughts floating around. 

Katsuki is good at crying. 

Good at hurting. 

ᆞᆞᆞ

There’s another knock at the door. It’s Aizawa this time and he doesn’t wait for a response before coming in. He doesn’t comment on the tear-tracks. 

He doesn’t have to.

“I called your parents, and they would like to see you before accompanying you to the surgery.” 

Katsuki frowns at that. 

“Why do they even have to be there for the damn operation? It’s not like they can watch it happen.” 

Aizawa pinches the bridge of his nose before responding in something a bit more gentle than his regular drawl. 

“They’re still your parents , Bakugou. A kid getting hurt is--it’s scary.” 

“They didn’t seem all that fucking scared when I went missing.” 

It’s a low blow, and it tastes bitter on Katsuki’s tongue when he says it. Aizawa scratches his nose to cover up what was unmistakably a grimace. 

“I already emailed them the passes to get onto campus,” a pause. “They’ll visit with you after class tomorrow,” Aizawa grits his teeth before quietly mumbling “sorry.” 

Class. FUCK!

Bakugou feels his eyes widen at the idea of going to class tomorrow. Shit, he’s so behind. And don’t they have a math quiz? If he doesn’t do well then Yaoyorozu might pass up his percentage in the class. It’s one of the only classes he’s consistently beating her at. His mom is definitely going to ask about his GPA and if he has to explain that he’s not number one again it’s gonna be a whole fucking thing. It’s always a whole fucking thing. This is stupid. He’s stupid. He’s stupid and dumb and has been neglecting classwork in favor of feeling things (which is fucking gross) and now

“-Kugo. Bakugou!”

The blond snaps back to attention. 

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to go in tomorrow if you’re not up for it. I can make arrangements for you to do the classwork from the dorms, or be exempt from assignments altogether.” 

That would make things worse.

“No, I don’t need your pity.” 

“Bakugou, there’s nothing wrong with seeking help when you need it.”

“That’s why I’m getting the damn surgery.” 

The two in the room stare at each other, eyes meeting in matching glares. Katsuki can’t really read what Aizawa is feeling, but he’s got the sinking feeling that the older of them knows exactly what’s going on inside his mind. It’s goddamn annoying. 

Of course, because he doesn’t have freaky eyeballs, Bakugou blinks first, looking away. He fixates on a ceiling tile, trying to gauge what angle he would need to hold his hand at in order to cause a blast that would cave the ceiling. 

“All Might will walk you back to the dorms. In case you get sick again. Non negotiable.” 

And just like that Aizawa’s pulling a phone out of his pocket and walking out of the room, nose pointed down as he types using a single finger on the keyboard like some kind of boomer. 

It’s pretty annoying how Katsuki is being passed between two of his teachers like a sack of potatoes or a health class project that needs to be cared for. Bakugou makes this annoyance clear when All Might makes his way back into the room and stands awkwardly by the door, waiting. 

Katsuki swears that over half of his bones cracked or popped as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands on slightly shaky legs. He can tell he’s dehydrated, and it makes him feel lightheaded. 

All Might doesn’t comment on this, and the two of them start the walk down the hall in relative silence. Their footsteps fall in time with each other, creating an echo off the empty medwing halls. It sounds almost like a pulse--a reminder that somehow, Katsuki was still alive.

This super deep analysis and vibe are immediately shattered when All Might decides to open his stupid ass mouth. 

“I’d love to meet your parents tomorrow, if you’d permit me.” The hero says it while still looking forward, not bothering to make eye contact as they round the corner. 

“Not happening. Go flirt with Deku’s mom instead.” Katsuki spits, eyes just as focused ahead. 

“Let me rephrase,” All Might stops walking and crouches down to Bakugou’s height. It makes the younger feel like a toddler, shifting his weight anxiously. “Shouta mentioned to me that there might be some tension between you and your parents. Or, a negative atmosphere you have failed to mention so far. Do you want me there as a buffer?” 

Katsuki continues to shift his weight and pick at his fingernails absently while he considers the offer. 

“I can handle myself,” he starts walking again “I don’t need you trying to play Handy Manny and fix shit that isn’t broken.” 

All Might begins walking once more, and their steps stay out of sync. 

ᆞᆞᆞ

When the front porch of the dorms is before him, Katsuki hesitates. It’s still early enough in the evening that there will be stragglers populating the common areas, and the idea of so much as making eye contact with another human being in his class has Bakugou wondering if another round of vomiting might be preferable. 

All Might notices the apprehension, and puts a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder in a crude attempt of comfort. His hand is really boney and feels kind of like a skeleton.

That’s your fault.

Katsuki shakes him off, and makes his way to the doors without another word, determined to not look back. 

Upon opening the door Katsuki is greeted with the blessing of relative silence. None of his friends (is he allowed to call them that, still??) are still downstairs and the main lights have already been substituted for the floor lamps that give off less of a harsh glow. 

It’s almost normal. 

Bakugou shuffles out of his shoes and into slippers and makes his way to the dorm kitchen to grab a water bottle. And maybe something to eat. Maybe. Depends. Does the fridge still have that bag of shredded cheese? Fuck, that sounds good right now.  

His cheese quest is thwarted before it can truly begin when Katsuki rounds the usual corner and sees Todoroki situated at the counter, doing a puzzle. 

The two-toned bastard turns and makes eye contact, but doesn’t seem phased to see Bakugou at all. 

“Oh, hey. Back already?”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean, fridge oven?”

“Thought you would have been kept overnight.”

“Nah,” Katsuki stretches his arms above his head and walks to the fridge “You should know I don’t go down that easy, fucknuts.” 

“You have a terminal illness.” 

“Shaddap.” 

Katsuki unscrews the cap of a water bottle and chugs it within seconds. He sets the empty plastic on the counter and continues to dig in the fridge for the cheese, deciding to go for it despite the audience because he seriously doubts that IcyHot is one to be talkative about the nighttime eating habits of other classmates. 

Todoroki seems to have obliged by Bakugou’s request to shut up, and the silence is so uncomfortable that Katsuki feels the need to break it again. Which is weird, because he shouldn’t be bothered by what Half and Half thinks. 

He thinks you’re weak. Just like the rest of them do.

“Since when do you do puzzles? That’s nerdy even for you.” 

“They give me time to think.” 

Katsuki hums at that, considering it while chewing the cheese that he had dropped into his mouth. 

“Did you want to help? You’re staring.” 

“You’re one to talk.” 

Todoroki rolls his eyes and fits another piece into the picture. It looks like cats in some kind of barrel. What a lameass. 

“I think if you weren’t so stubborn, you’d be able to figure it out.” 

Katsuki looks up from the cheese bag at that, completely confused. 

“It’s a cat puzzle, shitdick. It’s not that deep,” Katsuki puts the bag back and closes the fridge. “You’re fuckin’ weird, you know that?” 

Katsuki doesn’t see Todoroki roll his eyes again as he makes his way towards the elevators. 

ᆞᆞᆞ

Bakugou’s room is the same as it always is. 

Messier than it should be, smelling like a florist, and full of sour memories. The UA staff had made quick work of fixing his bathroom, so at least that was back to normal. 

After a change of clothes and an internal debate, while sprawled across his comforter, Katsuki makes the move to unlock his phone and check his messages. 

RACCOON EYES: 45 MESSAGES

TAPE FUCK: 11 MESSAGES

DUNCE: 9 MESSAGES

DEKU: 3 MESSAGES

CLASS 1-A GROUP CHAT: 95 MESSAGES

SHITTY HAIR: 1 MESSAGE

Against his better judgement, Bakugou clicks on the singular message. 

From: SHITTY HAIR

“why?”

The blond stares at the text for a long time. 

“why?”

It was a fair question. In fact, it was one that Bakugou had been asking himself this whole time.

Why me? Why am I unlovable? Why couldn’t I have been good enough? Why does everything have to be my fault? Why do I have to forget my first love? Why am I hurting why am I crying why why why why 

Katsuki doesn’t answer the message. He wants to, and he knows he should, but there isn’t a single properly formulated answer that he can give. There is no fucking why at this point. Everything just-- is.

And it fucking sucks. 

ᆞᆞᆞ

Katsuki has to pee. Not that badly, yet, but enough that it’s slightly uncomfortable. Of course, there are things far more uncomfortable and pressing right now, such as how he’s on hour three of being tied to a chair. 

Tomura Shigaraki is sitting on the counter of a shitty, run down bar. On a stool beside him is that freaky blood bitch, and standing in the corner is a guy who looks like he lost a bet with a deep fryer. 

They’re needling him, as they have been for ages. Asking about information, telling him he should join them. 

Bakugou has denied their requests enough times that they seem to be growing bored with asking him for shit and have instead taken to general argument. 

“Do you not see how corrupt hero society has become? Has All Might tainted your mind that much? This is why the master finds you all to be so foolish.”

“Can you see with that hand covering your face?”

Toga snorts. She doesn’t even try to hide it. 

“This is such a shame. I really like this one,” she pouts and folds her arms. “Can I kill him now?” 

“LIKE HELL YOU WILL! I COULD TAKE YOU ON RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW! BRING IT!”

“Way to go. You set the dog yapping again.” Extra crispy groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I’M NOT A FUCKING DOG! I’LL KICK YOUR ASS!”

Dabi straightens from his position of leaning against the wall and makes his way over to the chair where Katsuki is bound. He smirks, and leans in until they’re eye level.

“Then do it, hero. If you’re so powerful , break the restraints. Come on, kick my ass.” 

“Aw, you made him sad! That’s mean! Look, his lip’s quivering!” Toga cheers from the sidelines.

“Is the little hero gonna cry? Gonna show us how weak you really are? Tch, winner of the sports festival and yet the heroes taught you nothing. You’re still useless, even with that quirk,” Dabi straightens up again and heads towards a door that leads fuck knows where. “It’s a shame you have to room with us for a few more days as a hostage. I’d quite like to be around to watch you die.” 

The memory starts to get fuzzy, and morphs into something stranger. The walls turn to purple smoke that looks strikingly similar to the haze of Kurogiri’s warp portals. It makes Katsuki cough and starts to fill his lungs. The smoke surrounds him, but Shigaraki is still there, poised on the counter causally. 

He stands up, scratching his neck furiously, and removes the hand covering his face. His eyes are an angry red, and for a moment, Katsuki fears he is looking in a mirror. 

Shigaraki stretches out a hand, and positions it so it’s hovering directly over Katsuki’s face. 

“Remember this, little Kacchan,” He smiles. “You were nothing even before I turned you to dust.”

The ceiling caves in. 

It always does around this moment. 

No matter how many times the cloudy dream memory is replayed in katsuki’s mind, right before he can be killed, there is always an explosion.

Kirishima grabs his hand, as always, but it’s not Kirishima. It’s Kirishima’s body with a puzzle piece for a head. Bakugou can’t tell what he’s saying, because he doesn’t speak puzzle language. Iida is there, also a puzzle. Momo is there, once again, a puzzle. 

A cloud in the sky as they begin to fly away morphs until it has Todoroki’s face, and in his chilled monotone voice says “You were never a hero, were you? Figure it out.” 

Katsuki wants to scream. Maybe he does. It’s hard to tell as his lungs fill with sludge and he begins to suffocate. It feels real this time, and even in his sleep, while tossing and turning, tears pinprick at the corner of Bakugou’s eyes. It seems like he’s actually, truly about to die, but then the sky lights up red and crackles with lightning.

Because it’s Deku. 

Bakugou really should’ve known, since pretty much every time he has a variation of the weird dream/flashback, Deku breaks him out. Sometimes he’s morphed, sometimes not, but always green hair and freckles and eyes squinting from the wind. 

So Deku’s there, because of course he is, and he punches Katsuki in the nose so hard that the sludge dislodges from his throat. That’s probably not possible but this is a dream and Bakugou can’t even begin to care as he experiences the punch with a weird mixture of helplessness and lucidity. 

He feels the bone in his nose crack.

And then wakes up.

It’s still dark out, probably the middle of the night, and the only sounds are Katsuki’s heavy breathing and soft rain from outside that must have started up again. 

Bakugou reaches for his phone, winces at the brightness of the screen, and unlocks it. He goes straight to his messages. 

TO: SHITTY HAIR

“u up?”

Chapter Text

Bakugou scrunches up his nose as the first blast of cool, night air from his balcony hits his face. The moon is bright enough that he doesn’t need to use his phone as a flashlight, but he keeps it in his hand anyways so that his fingers have a distraction if need be. 

Five feet away, on a balcony of his own, and separated from Katsuki by a few simple railings, is Kirishima. The redhead looks worse for wear. His eyes and nose are red and irritated, and his dumb shitty hair is falling into his eyes. 

That’s your fault. You did that.

They stare at each other. 

Katsuki’s been doing a lot of that lately, come to think of it. Staring blankly at people with absolutely nothing to say except infinite apologies that simply won’t leave his mouth. 

This time, he tries to say them anyway, and actually gets a word or two out.

“I’m sorry.” 

Kirishima folds his arms in an attempt to look upset, but the shock on his face at Bakugou apologizing is still evident. 

“I just don’t get it.” Eijirou sighs in frustration. “I don’t get you! You get Hanahaki and waste valuable time you could be using to save your own life to fuck with me! You play house with me for a few days, and then embarrass me in front of everybody! What was the goal!?”

Katsuki opens his mouth to cut in, but Kirishima isn’t done yet.

“And then you have to go to get med help again because your stupid plan didn’t match up with your death calander , you ignore everyone’s texts, and I’m thinking--I’m like--’ Fuck! What if he died? What if he died and the last time I saw him I was mad? Like, I am totally allowed to be mad and stuff but like--DUDE! ’So here I am thinking you’re dead and then you text me at 3 AM like ‘YoU Up BRo?’ Umm, yes I’m up! I’m one room over writing your fucking eulogy because who else would?! Who else except the person who loves you!?”

Eijirou is panting, and there are crocodile tears forming in his eyes. 

“So, I’m gonna ask you again, and you better answer, Bakugou Katsuki,” he wipes snot from his nose. “ Why?”

“You love me?” 

Kirishima yells in frustration and yanks on his own hair, probably waking up everyone within a mile radius of campus. 

“Of course I do! You already know that! That’s why you fucked with me! Is this revenge for something? Did I hurt you that bad and you plotted this to get me back before running off into the sunset?”

Katsuki has never been more stunned. 

“I thought it came back because the love has to be reciprocated.” The blond whispers, looking at Kirishima’s feet.

“ Huh?” 

Shitty hair looks like a confused puppy. 

“I do love you, Shitty Hair.” 

Kirishima’s eyes widen. 

“Oh my god.” 

“What?” 

“You’re so dense oh my god,” The redhead starts to smile a bit. “Ashdio mentioned that--oh my god dude.” 

“What in the hell is suddenly so goddamn funny?!” Katsuki complains. “And what’s Alien got to do with it?”

“You don’t love me, dude.”

“WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP SAYING THAT!?!”

“I mean, yeah you love me. But you don’t love me.”

“You said the same fukcing word twice, hair for brains.”

“You love me as a friend, bro.”

“Friends don’t--”

“ Yes they do. You feel safe and happy around me, right? Like it when I’m in a good mood? Want to see me succeed? Wouldn’t mind a hug or two?” 

Katsuki doesn’t answer outright, but the huff of annoyance and aversion of his eyes is enough of a yes for Kirishima. 

“But you don’t really want to kiss me.”

“It wasn’t like-- bad.”

“That’s not what I said, dude. I know I’m manly as hell and great at kissing,” Kirishima sighs and leans on his balcony’s railing, taking a deep breath. “So, you thought it was me?” 

“Yes,” Katsuki suddenly has the urge to jump the gap between their balconies to be held. “I really, really did.” 

They’re both crying a little bit and neither one really remembers who moved first, but the hug is the most bittersweet thing Katsuki has ever felt. Like walking into a place you used to go to when you were a kid, but it’s changed just enough to feel wrong. 

“It’s gonna be awhile before I get over, well, you,” Kirishima pulls back first, smiling and wiping his eyes. “But I’ll get there.” 

“I’m glad it wasn’t you.”

“Dude, I know we just made up and shit but, wow , bad timing.”

“No,” katsuki slams his palm into his forehead. “I meant that I’m glad I won’t have to forget you.”

“Huh? What D'ya mean?” 

“I’m getting the surgery.” 

“Wait, for real? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Three days from now.” 

“Bakubro, are you like-- sure that’s what you want to do? Like, that’s a no backsies kind of thing. You’re just gonna forget a person altogether. Bam! Gone! What if it’s someone important?”

“If he’s important, I won’t know that because I’ve already forgotten.” 

“Damn.” 

“I have to do this.” 

“I’ll be there for you when you come back,” A pause. “Maybe not right away, but I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, E.” 

“Nah,” Kirishima laughs. “You lost ‘E’ privileges when you broke my heart. Stick to Shitty Hair.”

“Oi! You guilt tripping motherfu--”

Katsuki is cut off by the sound of Kirishima turning around, hopping the balcony gap, and walking back into his dorm room. While the blond walks back inside, there’s a new text on his phone. 

FROM: SHITTY HAIR

“ Glad you’re not dead” 

ᆞᆞᆞ

Some days, Katsuki wishes he were dead. Today is one of those days. 

An infinite abyss of nothing, or even a fiery pit seem better in comparison to waking up to a call from Aizawa telling him not only that he’s not allowed to come to classes today, but also that his parents would be there at twelve. 

His only solace is that he has the dorm to himself until then.

Bakugou’s not the best cook in the world, but he’s better than any of the other damn extras in the class. Sugar Man can hold his own with baking, but Katsuki was the reigning champion of everything else. It’s around 10 in the afternoon, two hours before he’s forced to talk to his parents, and Bakugou is plating a bomb ass spicy stir fry. 

While chewing and looking out the window, Bakugou thinks about all of the times he’s almost died, and if he should have in those situations. Sludge villain: nah, he should still get to win the sports festival. League kidnapping: Maybe. They had some good points about his uselessness. This Hanahaki shit: absolutely yes. Love is dumb and kicks you in the ass, and Katsuki would rather not deal with it or anything similar to a human emotion for the rest of eternity. 

More than that, he was just tired of hurting people. If he wasn’t alive, everyone would be so much happier. All Might would still be number one, Kirishima wouldn’t have gotten upset, Deku would have-

Deku.

Deku would have more hero notebooks and less anxiety and would smile more and wouldn’t flinch when someone raised their hand up to high five him. Deku would be the next All Might and meet that goal so much faster than he is now. Deku would be better off just like everyone else. Because everything shitty that has happened to that dumb nerd has been Katsuki’s fault.

Then the dumbass walks into the dorm with his arm in a sling and a sheepish expression, and it startles Katsuki so much he almost knocks his plate off the table. 

“The fuck are you doing here?!”

“Oh!” Deku startles, surprised that Bakugou would start a conversation. “I messed up my arm during a drill, so Aizawa just sent me back for the day. I think part of it is him wanting me to check on you, heh.” 

“I don’t need babysitting.”

“I know! It wasn’t my idea!” there’s an awkward pause. “What’s in the pan?”

“Stir fry.”

“Cool,” Deku turns to walk towards his room, “well, I’ll just--”

“You can have some if you’re hungry, shitwad.” 

“Really? Thanks, Kacchan!” Deku lights up and scrambles over to the pan with the leftover stir fry. Awkwardly, with one arm, he fixes himself a plate and sits down directly next to Katsuki at the table despite there literally being an infinite amount of options for places to sit that are not near Katsuki so why the hell did he

“Kacchan? You okay?”

“M’fine.” Bakugou mumbles, shoving another bite into his mouth. 

The two eat in silence besides Deku’s random exclamations of how good the food is. It’s enough to distract Katsuki for a while, especially when both of them keep going back for more until there isn’t anything left. Deku offers to do the dishes, and Katsuki yells at him because how the hell you gonna wash a plate with one hand, huh? Gonna borrow another quirk that helps you wash dishes?” 

Izuku giggles at the snark instead of shying away, and it sends hundreds of alarms blaring in Katsuki’s ears. 

“Better than blowing up silverware by accident.” The shorter male muses, stepping back immediately as he predicted the lazy smack that Katsuki had aimed for his good arm. 

The good nature of the moment is killed when Katsuki’s alarm goes off, signifying 30 minutes before his parents show up.

“I’ve gotta go get dressed in something nicer.”

“Huh. why?” Deku tilts his head to the side like an idiot.

“Parents are visiting.”

“They’re not taking you out of UA are they?! Or is something worse with the--the you know? Or-”

“Don’t worry about it, damn nerd. It’s none of your business anyways.”

“I just want to make sure that you’re--”

“I’m peachy,” Bakugou gently flicks Izuku in the forehead. “Go do whatever nerds do when they’re bored and crippled.” 

ᆞᆞᆞ

“Ow! Kacchan that hurt!” Three year old Izuku whines after being flicked in the forehead. The toddler has gone cross eyed trying to look for what he is certain will be a red bump. 

Toddler Katsuki giggles and rolls onto his side, stretching out over the picnic blanket with something that can only be described as arrogance.

“Don’t be such a baby, Deku! It wasn’t that hard. If we’re gonna be heroes, you’re gonna have to take hits a lot harder than that.”

Izuku pauses and considers this before nodding with determination and wiping some tears from his face. 

“You’re right, Kacchan! Let’s be strong heroes like All Might! Hit me again, I can take it.” 

“That’s boring! You’re expecting it this time!”

“I suppose that would take away from the exercise a bit, wouldn’t it?”

“You talk fast lately. And use big words. Slow the hell down, Deku.” 

“Only if you can catch me!”

And just like that, the game of chase between two stubby legged toddlers in the Midoriya back yard began. The tore through the fenced in grassy area, shouting out names of attacks they planned to use once they were big and ready to fight villains more menacing than grade school kids. 

Everything is peachy until Katsuki is returned home by Inko, only to be yelled at behind closed doors for the dirt caked onto his new sneakers. 

ᆞᆞᆞ

There is a scratch on Katsuki’s finger.  This is suddenly the most interesting thing he has ever seen, and the blond decides that he will not be looking up from this fixated point on his folded hands. Especially not with his parents sitting on the dorm couch across from him. 

It’s strange, having two worlds collide like this. Bakugou had always tried to separate hero work and UA from family and his childhood home. Having his two parents situated on a sofa that was often occupied by the likes of Aoyama and Uraraka was foreign and made him feel a bit sick.

Of course, that might just be his disease. 

The true disease of this situation was definitely his mom, though. She had not stopped shouting since walking in the door, and all Katsuki could do was pray that Deku couldn’t hear her from his floor. 

“So you get rejected by one girl and suddenly love is over for you?! You’re that much of a pushover?! I thought I raised someone stronger than that!” 

“I think what you’re mother is trying to say is--”

“I’M SAYING EXACTLY WHAT I’M SAYING. THE BRAT IS WRACKING UP MEDICAL BILLS BECAUSE HE’S A DAMN COWARD! HE’S LUCKY WE’RE EVEN VISITING BEFOREHAND AT ALL!”

“I didn’t ask you to be here.” Katsuki mumbles under his breath.

“OH, AND NOW WE’RE WHISPERING OUR THREATS INSTEAD OF SAYING THEM FOR OTHERS TO HEAR! IF YOU’RE GONNA INSULT ME, AT LEAST BE A MAN ABOUT IT YOU LOUSY KID!”

“YOU WANT YELLING?” Katsuki looks up from the hand scratch. “HERE YOU GO, HAG! STOP ACTING LIKE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT WHEN YOU DON’T!”

“SO YOU THINK YOU’RE SMARTER THAN ME NOW? IS THAT IT?”

“I DON’T THINK SO! I KNOW SO!”

“Mitsuki, Katsuki, if we could please just calm down and talk things out--"

“SHUT UP!” 

No one is sure if it was Mistuki or Katsuki who hushed Masaru. In the end, Katsuki supposes it doesn’t really matter.

“KAT YOU USELESS BRAT, JUST ADMIT YOU’RE AFRAID THAT NO ONE LOVES YOU SO WE CAN FIGURE OUT WHAT GIRL YOU’RE CONFESSING TO AND I CAN GO. HOME.”

“People love me,” Katsuki looks back at the hand scratch in order to hide his stinging eyes. “My friends love me.”

“As if you have friends ! The only people that love you are the two of us . And that’s all it's gonna be until you figure out how to be a hero.” Mitsuki stands up and grabs her purse. “Or, at the very least, a functional human. Now, pick the girl you like. Confess to her. She might not love you now but she won’t want to kill you, so she’ll come around. If I end up needing to see you in two days, you will feel. My. wrath. Got it?” 

The explosions going off in Katsuki’s hands drown out his response, but it was definitely something along the lines of “fuck off” or “get out”. 

ᆞᆞᆞ

It’s early Saturday morning, 2 AM early, and Katsuki is finishing up packing his duffel bag with what he’ll need for the hotel and hospital trip. He’ll pack, put his bag by the door, take a jog, come back, shower, and leave for his train by 6. 

Bakugou doesn’t really want to think about what the wrath will be when his mom finds out that he got on the train. That he’s getting the surgery. But, he doesn’t really care, because this is the last day of throwing up flowers everywhere. Last day of suffocating. 

He just hopes it’ll be a worthy trade off. 

The bag is slung over Katsuki’s shoulder as he makes his way down the stairs, ready to head towards the gym and shower there after his run. This would be the last time in the dorms with this stupid plant inside him. 

Katsuki’s got one foot out the door when someone speaks.

“Kacchan?”

God fucking dammit shit fuck.

Izuku had fallen asleep on his usual couch, a gain, surrounded by notes and papers, again. And now he was sitting up, and probably going to try and talk to Katsuki or some shit, which he really didn’t have time allotted for in his tight schedule.

“Go back to sleep, Deku.”

“Where are you going?” 

“Not important. I’ll be back on Monday.”

“Does Aizawa know you’re leaving?”

“Yes. Now either fuck off back to your bed or shut your damn eyes again and forget this happened.”

Izuku swings his legs off the couch and sleepily stumbles over to the door. The moonlight catches on his bare shoulders, and Katsuki knows he couldn’t count all the freckles if he tried. 

“Where are you going , Kacchan.” 

It’s not a question, it’s a direct demand. And at this point Katsuki cannot be bothered to prolong the conversation so he answers.

“I’ve got a doctors appointment.”

“What’s the bag for, then?

“It’s out of town.” 

“Why? There’s a hospital like, three blocks over.” Izuku folds his arms in a “gotcha” way, even though he does not have anything. 

“Need a special doctor.”

Katsuki turns and continues to walk out the door into the night. To his dismay, Izuku follows, barefoot and bleary eyed, still pestering. 

“What could you need a special doctor for that Recovery Girl can’t--”

“SURGERY, DUMB DEKU! FUCKING SURGERY . I’M GETTING THE SURGERY TOMORROW AND GOTTA CHECK INTO MY FUCKING HOTEL BY TONIGHT. HAPPY!?”

“No.” 

“What do you mean, no?!” Katsuki is about ready to rip his own hair out and tries to keep walking off of the porch and onto the pavement. 

Deku’s hand on his shoulder stops him from getting more than a few steps. 

“If you get it, you’ll forget.”

“And?! So fucking what?! I’ll forget a classmate! I can just be re-introduced! Not a big deal!”

“You’re going to lose every memory of that person! Izuku is shaking now, and Katsuki can’t tell why. “You’ll forget everything.”

“I read the terms and conditions, damn Deku.” 

“God!” Izuku’s crying now, fists shaking. Katsuki had already shaken off the shoulder touch, and now it looked like Deku was getting ready to fucking fight him. “You’re so stupid”  

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!” 

“YOU’RE STUPID! IF YOU GET IT YOU’RE STUPID !”

“WHY DO YOU CARE SO MUCH, HUH FUCKWAD?”

“BECAUSE--BECAUSE I-- FUCK!”

Katsuki is so taken aback by Izuku screaming a swear word that he doesn’t have time to dodge the first punch. One for All at 3% slams into the side of his jaw, and his teeth knock together painfully. 

“I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!” Bakugou yells to god knows who before activating his quirk and sending explosions at Deku in the attempt to subdue him enough to grab his bag and run.

While the smaller boy is dodging, Katsuki attempts to charge across the front lawn with his bag in hand, but Izuku’s superspeed has him being tackled and slammed against a tree, hands pinned above his head.

Izuku looks fucking feral. He’s mad but also looks like he’s gonna cry and it’s a weird cacophony of emotions that Katsuki cannot place, but regardless of what they are they sure are making the blond super fucking uncomfortable.

One for All is shooting across Izuku’s skin in lighting patterns, illuminating his face with a weird red glow and using enough power to keep Katsuki pinned. The flipped power dynamic makes Katsuki’s stomach do turns, and the urge to move and do something is almost overwhelming.

“Don’t do it.” Izuku growls. 

“Fuck. Off.” Is Katsuki’s response before he jerks his knee upwards straight into Deku’s dick. 

Izuku doubles over, and Katsuki takes the chance to blast the fuck off again. He makes it a bit farther down the lawn, but is stopped again with a shoot style kick to the back of his legs that makes him stumble forward. 

Bakugou yelps in surprise but rolls easily to counter and sends a punch of his own. It connects, but not at a good angle, so Izuku probably doesn’t even feel it because of all his muscle mass. The blond uses an explosion to get himself into the upright position, and decides to forego running for the train station in favor of pummeling Deku and then running to the train station.

They circle each other for a bit, exchanging blows occasionally but using most of their energy to dodge the other person’s full fledged attacks.

Wind whipping through both of their hair, as well as smoke and ash from explosions, Katsuki allows himself to smile for a second. 

Deku isn’t holding back.

The attacks get even more intense, to the point where Katsuki’s not sure how much more of Deku’s superspeed he can actually dodge. The euphoria of actually fighting someone who wasn’t afraid of hurting him quickly dissipates to frustration over how weak he’s gotten. 

Deku goes for another tackle, and they land horizontally on the ground with Izuku pinning Katsuki. It is then that Bakugou notices that Deku is crying. Which causes him to realize that he is also crying. 

Why the fuck am I crying?

Because mom was right. No one will love you. You need this surgery or you’ll die.

And Deku’s right. You will forget everything about the person you love. You will lose your only chance, because everyone knows that the threat of your death is the only thing that would make someone stay with you. 

And Dabi from the league was right, too. You’re weak. You can’t be a hero right. You’re so bad at it the villains wanted you, and you were bad at that too. 

Even if you get the surgery, you will die unloved. 

Katsuki looks up into Deku’s eyes, and notices how close their faces are. Both have stopped hitting each other, and are now just glaring and crying and panting in a weird form of telepathic communication. 

No comment.

“I have to do this.” Katsuki whispers. He doesn’t know if it was for Deku or for himself.

“Please--”

Whatever the fuck Deku was pleading for, Katsuki didn’t bother to find out. 

Instead he swung a right hook up at Deku’s face so fucking hard that he could physically feel the nerd’s nose break. 

With Deku distracted, in those split seconds, Katsuki grabs his duffel bag and starts to run again. He’s always, always fucking running and he’s so tired of it. He’s tired of all of this. Tired of his mom and villains and work and Hanahaki and visits to the UA medical wing. All he wants to to get this surgery and escape because maybe if he can’t feel love, someone will take pity and put him out of his misery.

Wouldn’t that be nice? All of this ending?

And then Deku’s there again , just like he always is, he had to be using at least 25% power to be moving as fast as he is. He doesn’t tackle, doesn’t pin, doesn’t even attack. He’s just positioned himself directly in front of Katsuki, tears still streaming down his face.

“This is the only way, nerd,” Katsuki sighs. “Move. I’m gonna miss the train.” 

“Why would it be the only--”

“Because no one is ever going to lo--”

Izuku grabs Katsuki by the collar of his shirt, and yanks him down until their faces are millimeters apart. 

“You don’t get to tell me who does and does not love you.”

And then their lips connect.

Chapter Text

Hi. 

Me: I will be back next week!

Me two months later: 

I'm not abandoning the fic. I'm not. Feels like Home has been incredibly therapeutic for me, and I have an inherent need to finish the story. If not for anybody else, for myself. 
It's ironic, actually. I hate angst fics. I never read them. I'm always on the comedy fluff, soulmate, canon compliant falling in love slow-burns. When I started drafting this story back in August, my main intentions were for it to be funny, actually. Katsuki working his way through 1-A trying to find out who he's in love with while Izuku gets more and more frustrated. 

Of course that's not what happened, and I'm not sure if that's my brain's fault or just the way the story unfolded. 

I haven't updated because of the amount of other, more draining things happening in my life. There were some Covid issues with my grandparents. There were some other personal family matters. I had a fair share of medical issues. But none of that is things I'm going to lament about because when it comes down to it this is a gay fanfiction I turned into a coping mechanism that is for me first and all of you second. 

I've seen a lot of comments asking how I am able to portray Katsuki's frustrations, guilt, internal shit, and mom issues in such a genuine way. I am grateful for the love my characterizations get. But Katsuki's not a "characterization choice" for me. 
It's just me. 

I'm a bisexual male with a conservative mom who constantly experiences guilt over who I am. Over not being good enough. Over living in the shadows of other people and not surmounting to anything despite the fact that I am continuously told I'm intelligent. I am the letdown. But the difference is I don't have some disease that reveals I have a soulmate. So I project. I project to give myself the "illusion" that I deserve love. 

Feels like Home, quite literally, feels like my home. 

Because of that, with everything going on in my ACTUAL home, I needed to put it on pause. Still do, honestly. I'm not in a spot where I feel ready to come back to Katsuki yet. Writing in his perspective is a lot like actually addressing my feelings. It opens up certain cans of worms. 

Don't get me wrong, I adore this story. I read old comments all the time. I gush over your kudos and theories. 

I'll come home soon. I promise. 

I've just gotta deal with myself for a while, and hopefully not blow up any toilets or falsely confess to my best friend. 

I love you all, and thank you again for your understanding. 

Soon. I promise. 

-Finn <3