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Izuku’s jaw almost hit the floor when Bakugou walked into class that morning. Not only was Bakugou twenty minutes early today, but he was wearing his uniform properly. He was also silent, alarmingly so. Izuku scrambled for the reasons as to why this would happen.
Bakugou always made a point to stick to his schedule within the parameters of ten minutes. A schedule change of twenty minutes was practically unheard of. The last time this had happened was the week after Bakugou’s kidnapping. Izuku tried to figure out any recent events that would illicit this large of a schedule change, but he couldn’t think of anything. Maybe someone had messed with Bakugou’s laundry supplies. This would fit into why his uniform was a more appropriate size.
If someone messed with Bakugou’s laundry supplies, Bakugou would not be able to wear his usual uniform. Izuku knew from experience how dangerous Bakugou’s clothing was after one use if the nitroglycerin was not properly neutralized. One memory in particular Izuku remembered was the time Bakugou accidentally exploded his Bronze Age All Might jumpsuit because he forgot to wash off the residue nitroglycerin. Bakugou nor Auntie had not been happy about that.
That being stated, the Bakugou family became more diligent about neutralizing Bakugou’s clothing immediately. The part that still made no sense to Izuku was that Bakugou was wearing the uniform properly. Just because his uniform was better sized did not mean that Bakugou has to wear it properly. In fact, Izuku was sure Bakugou’s refusal to wear his uniform properly had something to do with Bakugou rejecting classic signs of conformity. Just another one of the things that Bakugou implemented to separate himself from the rest of the extras.
On the other hand, Bakugou could easily be doing this to mess with the class. Izuku spared a quick glance at his phone to check the date. It wasn’t April Fools, so that takes that theory off the list. The only time Bakugou would expend this level of energy for something this petty would be a day meant to catch people off guard. It was a stupid theory anyway. Bakugou hated lying, and his behavior at the moment went against everything he stood for.
Izuku scanned the reactions of his classmates. Only a few of them were in attendance and from their lack of interest in Bakugou, they had not even noticed the blonde’s uncharacteristically quiet entrance. No one noticed anything was off, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t something off. Maybe it was Toga? Izuku shivered at the thought of the blood thirsty teenager. Her obsession with him was both familiar and alien.
Izuku observing Bakugou was different. Right?
By the time Bakugou reached his desk, Izuku had gone through the first three stages of grief, but nothing could mentally prepare him for the smile Bakugou sent his way. It was like nothing Izuku had ever received from Bakugou. Bakugou’s eyes were lightly crinkled at the edges and the vicious edge Bakugou had in his smile was gone. It was wrong.
In moments like these Izuku was reminded that Auntie Mitsuki is a world renown model, and, as her son, Bakugou shared a startling resemblance with her. The smile was too perfect. It was too plastic for someone like Bakugou. Izuku hated it.
“Good Morning, Midoriya.” Bakugou said, not at all perturbed by the look of confusion of Izuku’s face. Izuku was not even mildly embarrassed about how those words sent him stumbling out of seat, tripping over his bag. Being slapped would have hurt less to Izuku than hearing Bakugou calling him Midoriya. How could Bakugou say that? How could he act like he and Izuku had no history?
Izuku could not even form words as he stared at Bakugou. His hands lightly crackled with All for One as he got ready to attack Bakugou. The theory of it being Toga becoming more apparent. Bakugou never greeted him. It was always Izuku who greeted him, only to be ignored. On the rare occasion Bakugou would answer with a light grunt. It was the way it was in their dynamic.
“Y-you aren’t Kacchan.” Izuku growled. He curled his fist. The look of concern on the imposter’s face made a small giggle escape Izuku. Bakugou would never allow his concern to be painted so obviously on his face. It would be more subtle. It would be shown through a quiet beratement about Izuku being a freak. Not this.
The imposter made no move to get out of the way of Izuku’s punch. In fact, he seemed to accept it. Izuku’s breath stuttered as he met the gaze of red eyes that were both so familiar yet so foreign. There was no anger, no fight in those eyes. There was only acceptance, and it was so cold.
“I’m not going to fight you, Midoriya. It’s not worth it.” Bakugou said. Bakugou spoke in a normal voice instead of his usual yelling. If it had been any other time, Izuku would have been punched. Instead, Izuku was watching Bakugou wipe his bloody nose. Izuku wondered if it was broken. A vindictive voice that Izuku usually quashed sure hoped so. Especially if it meant this imposter was in pain. There was no way this was Bakugou. Bakugou never gave up. Bakugou would never back down from a fight.
Izuku desperately grappled for the collar of Bakugou’s uniform, making him and Bakugou stumble and fall onto the ground. Izuku continued to search the imposter’s eyes for answers.
“Why are you calling me that? Who are you?” Izuku asked, growing aware of his classmates’ stares. The imposter laid a placating hand on Izuku’s shoulder. It burned.
“Zuku, it’s okay. It’s me, Bakugou.” The imposter replied. Izuku paused at the nickname. It had been so long since Bakugou had used it that Izuku had almost forgotten about it. He couldn’t forget it though. How could he when it indicated days long passed when his relationship with Bakugou was not so precariously scripted and unstable?
Izuku choked out a gasp as the imposter brought him closer, pressing Izuku’s face into the crook of his neck. Whether it was a gasp of anger or surprise, not even Izuku was sure. Trembles wracked Izuku’s body as his mind scrambled to cope with the situation he was in. Izuku’s hands that had been gripping the collar of Bakugou’s shirt slowly slid down. At that moment Izuku instinctively knew that, despite how strangely he was acting, it was Kacchan. Only Bakugou could make him act like such a mess. Also, Toga’s impersonations were more accurate.
Izuku felt so empty. Why did Bakugou being nice to him make him feel so empty?
“Zuku, why are you crying?” Bakugou asked. Izuku leaned away from Bakugou and brought his hands up to his face. His cheeks were wet. Izuku did not understand why he was crying. He looked up and Bakugou with his lower lip wobbling. The concern etched all over Bakugou’s face was his breaking point. A sob ripped from somewhere deep inside Izuku. He dove for Bakugou, tucking himself as deeply as possible into Bakugou’s arms. To his surprise, Izuku felt arms wrap around him, and in that moment Izuku felt like he could pretend. He could pretend that maybe Bakugou decided to finally be nice to him. He could pretend that he and Bakugou were normal friends.
“I don’t kn-know, Kacchan.” Izuku wailed. Bakugou’s hand rubbing soothing circled on Izuku’s back was not helping. If anything, Bakugou’s kind actions increased the fervor of Izuku’s cries. Izuku probably looked disgusting right now. He was probably getting tears and boogers all over Bakugou’s jacket. His classmates probably thought he was a freak, but right now, Izuku could only focus on trying to stop the tremor and sobs wracking his body. The hand rubbing circles into his back paused.
Izuku looked up to see why and made eye contact with Aizawa-sensei. The older man sighed and muttered something about problem children. Then he cleared his throat.
“As many of you have noticed by now, Bakugou has been acting strangely. Last night on his way to the dorms, Bakugou got hit by a personality reversal quirk. I was hoping to tell you before anything like this happened.” Aizawa droned, gesturing at Izuku and Bakugou who were still on the floor. The blood drained out of Izuku’s face. That’s why Bakugou was acting so strangely. That’s why he was being nice to Izuku. Izuku couldn’t believe he had even let himself pretend for a second. How could he let himself hope for something that Bakugou would never provide him?
Izuku stood up and ran out, ignoring the calls echoing behind him. He was not dealing with whatever aftermath crying on your childhood friend slash bully would create, and if Izuku went to the restroom to cry some more, who was to judge him.