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Bakugou couldn't breathe. He strained against the chains that held him down. The muzzle that made him feel like a feral animal. He watched everyone around him do nothing. They just stood there. Just like they did when the slime monster attacked. "And they wonder why I hate everyone so much." was all he thought before he gave in to his rage.
He screamed in anger against the muzzle and pulled at the chains like they were sucking the life out of him. They might as well have been with how they seemed to choke him slowly. Dragging him down. But he couldn't just fall so easily. He fought for so long. Why should he back down now? His tears mixed with his sweat, hiding his silent sobs. He could feel his hope shatter when All Might, his hero, forced the medal onto him. A medal he didn't earn. One that he didn't want. Another thing he couldn't say no to.
Dabi stared at the screen in disgust from their base. "And the heroes wonder why we follow Stain's ideology." He murmured under his breath. Shigaraki ended up decaying the whole table in his rage as they watched the sports festival. How "Heroes" chained up a 15-year-old boy who clearly had PTSD from the sludge villain last year. On live television with thousands of people watching. "I think we found our new recruit."
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Bakugou stopped asking Aizawa for advice. He didn't realise when it stopped, but it did. "Hey, kid? You doing ok now?" All he got was a grunt as Bakugou slung his bag over his shoulder and stalked away. "Looks like he's back to his rude ways. And here I thought I was finally getting somewhere."
It wasn't even the kidnapping that truly showed the extent of the damage done to Bakugou by the heroes. It was when he left. When he went to become a villain. When he started to agree with Stain's idealogy, but it was too late for them just to apologise. What was done was done, and nobody could change it.
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Bakugou woke up in a white room. White walls. White bed. White clothes. White cuffs. He sat up, dazed as he drunk in his surroundings. Not much he could see when everything was white. He looked down in confusion to notice that he wasn't chained up. The only modifiers on him were quirk dampening cuffs, and that was pretty reasonable considering how dangerous his quirk was.
He immediately tensed up as Burnt Cigarette walked in.
Shigaraki only watched the surprisingly small figure in the corner through the one-way glass. He prayed that Dabi wasn't wrong in saying that he could handle Bakugou. After all, even he could see the similarities between Bakugou and the LoV. But the similarities were much more between Dabi and Bakugou. Shigaraki rubbed his wrists and hoped that Dabi wouldn't ruin their last chance at getting someone as strong as Bakugou on their side.
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Dabi stared at Bakugou's defiant snarl. It was so reminiscent of himself when he was younger. Always pushing himself to be better. Pushing and going until he burned out. "Kid. You don't need to say anything. I'll make you a deal. If I win, you join the villains and don't backstab us. If you win, we all turn ourselves in." He grinned at the way his eyes lit up at the blatant challenge.
"Before I tell you the deal, let me give you a little bit of backstory. I have a fire quirk, and that's how I got all these burns. These burns were because I tried too hard to please my _father_. Blisters for years. Tears and pain and the only thanks I got was that I wasn't enough. I was pushed down again and again until I realised the only way for me to really be the best is to not be on the same side as the strong ones. How do we get better if we only fight weaklings?" Bakugou might not have been saying anything, but it was evident from the look on his face that he was listening and he agreed with most of what he was saying.
"You get them too, don't you? The blisters and the scars. But your quirk heals them up. No one ever sees the pain you go through. No one ever considers the dedication you put into honing your quirk like you do. How many times has someone told you good job for the effort you put in? How many people look at you and see someone strong emotionally and not just a brat with a strong quirk? Which is why I see myself in you. And that's why I'm going to make a deal with you."
Bakugou looked around pensively and nodded. Dabi smiled and rubbed his hands together in glee. "So the deal is that if no one notices your PTSD of restraints or apologises for the sports festival within two months, then you come work for the LOV. If someone does notice, I'll willingly turn myself in and give you all the information you need. You're not allowed to mention this deal to anyone or ask for an apology or tell someone about your PTSD. Do we have a deal?"
Bakugou muses over the deal. It seemed really easy to win. The heroes would definitely notice by two months. No one is that oblivious. He nodded, and Dabi clapped his hands shortly before opening the door to let Shigaraki in. "Your friends should be here in a few minutes to save you so play along. I'm wearing gloves even if you can't tell so when I lunge for you, you better escape." Bakugou nodded slightly when he heard someone knock on the door. Dabi made a motion with his hands, signalling that it was time.
Bakugou broke free of the quirk restraints, and the battle began.
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He waited. He waited for so long. Every day, his hope diminished more and more. Were they so oblivious? All Might was there when the sludge villain attacked. He's a hero. He should know something, right? Anything. Anyone. Please. But no one came. And it dawned on him. No one cared. Absolutely no one gave a fucking damn about him. And why would they? He was stupid in thinking someone would realise. They all saw the world in rose-tinted glasses, only seeing what they wanted to see. Bakugou broke his pair a long time ago. Saw the disgusting creatures that lurked. The ones that you can't see without knowing they're there. The ones that come out and choke you when you sleep. The ones that whispered in his ear at night. The ones that you could only see when they want you to see them. And he hated it. Every single moment he saw them, creeping from the shadows. He wanted to hurl. They reminded him of the deal. Whispered in his ear about his failures. His inflated ego and pride.
Two months passed, and so did Bakugou Katsuki. Assumed dead in his dorm after finding excessive blood and no corpse, the funeral was held in which only the bare minimum went. He stood at the top of a building and watched bitterly. He wasn't Bakugou Katsuki anymore. He was now Roscoe. A villain that would create havoc throughout Japan. He tucked his pistol into his waistband and stared at his sweat-absorbing quirk dampening gloves and curled up his hands. He no longer had any expectations to live up to. And that was probably the most terrifying and exhilarating thing he would ever experience. He grinned from under his black mask and leapt from the roof, going unnoticed by those at Bakugou's funeral.
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Roscoe went on to create absolute havoc all over Japan. Stealing prized possessions under the heroes thumb, vandalising hero agencies and gaining the support of many civilians who agreed with his idealogy of corrupt heroes, Roscoe quickly grew to be one of the most influential villains. No one ever even saw them completely. Even their gender was a complete mystery. The appearance of Roscoe had left multiple pro-heroes stumped and at a loss of words. No one even knew the motivations behind Roscoe's actions. All they knew was that Roscoe had a strict rule against killing anyone and injuring civilians.
"Code 238! I repeat code 238 at the Nezu Museum! It's Roscoe! Bring reinforcements!" This announcement blasted in every single hero agency. Everything died down for a few seconds until everything exploded. Everbody threw the paperwork into the air in a frenzy, and the pro-heroes immediately jumped into action. Sirens were going off in every direction as police cars, fire trucks, ambulances and pro-heroes drove to the crime scene.
Deep down, Roscoe knew. This gimmick had been going on for five years. he was bound to get caught eventually, and he has executed this particular mission very sloppily. He pressed on the gas pedal, swerving between the heavy mid-afternoon traffic. He hadn't stolen anything, but he had utterly trashed the main rooms. He took a deep breath when he approached the bridge. Something was wrong. The police were slowing down, and they didn't get on the bridge. All his senses went into hyperdrive, screaming at him to leave the bridge.
With horror slowly dawning on him, he realised. They were lifting the bridge. While he was on it. They planned on letting him die. Taking his hands off of the steering wheel momentarily, he pulled off his gloves. He let himself admire the sparks that flew from his palms for a moment before focusing on the road again. He unbuckled his seat belt, wondering how he was going to pull it off when he hadn't used his quirk in 5 years, but it was either try or die. Right where the bridge got cut off, he swerved the steering wheel sharply as he drifted so suddenly he was flung into the air. The blood was rushing into his skull as he let off a series of unmistakable explosions before landing on the other side of the bridge.
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The heroes watched the explosions with a vague sense of nostalgia and loss, unable to recognise where they had seen it before but knew that they should recognise it. All the guns were pointing towards Roscoe. Helicopters, pros, sidekicks, police, everyone had gathered. Top hero Deku had arrived to capture Roscoe. What they hadn't expected was for Roscoe to drop his guns and raise his hands in defeat.
"I'll come willingly on one condition. You don't unmask me until I tell my story of why I became a villain." And with that, Villain Roscoe was arrested.
Kirishima sat down at the interrogation table opposite Roscoe, looking at him contemplatively before taking a sip of his coffee. "So. Bakugou Katsuki. Why did you do it?" Roscoe- no Bakugou looked up in shock. "How did you know? Was it my quirk?"
"Partially. The quirk was what confirmed it. I knew it was you a year in when we first cornered you. And don't ask me how. I just know you Bakugou. I know your behaviours. The way your hands twitched and how you braced for impact even when there was nothing there? You did the same thing after the Sports Festival five years ago."
"So you noticed so much about me... but you never realised my fear of restraints? You did nothing when the heroes chained me up like an animal? You saw the blisters I had after I tried to escape! You saw how much pain I was in! You knew... And you did nothing? You knew about my PTSD from the sludge villain. I opened up to you! Why didn't you do anything?"
Bakugou felt numb. If this were happening a few years ago, he would have been furious, exploding with rage. Not anymore, though. His wrath used to be like a short inferno, blazing, but only for a while. Now it was like a blue flame, almost cold to look at, and he kept on feeding it slowly and surely until no one would recognise it anymore. When they least expected it, he would lash out and burn everyone who ever dared cross him to the ground. But it was Kirishima. The first person whom he opened up to, the first person who he considered a friend and the person who led him into his new home in the Matsuzawa hospital for the criminally insane.
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Bakugou Katsuki walked out of Matsuzawa as a free man 17 years later.
"Bakubro, it's been a long time, hasn't it?"
"It has shitty hair. It really has."