Archive of Our Own ^beta

Being on the receiving end of Bakugo’s wrath wasn’t pleasant. Iida learnt that the hard way. 

He has went through at least five pairs of glasses in the last week due to Bakugo’s constant harassment and spiteful cleaning: throwing the lenses into the laundry basket, knocking them off the shelves as he dusts, “misplacing” them until half of the spares are gone, and other purposeful accidents. 

All over a hole in the wall — well, a rather large hole in the middle of the common room wall, it was impossible to ignore. Bakugo had gotten into another disagreement with Midoriya over some — likely trivial — matter and in a fit of rage, he swung an exploding hand at Deku but his agile dodging left the wall behind him to feel the fury of Bakugo’s quirk. 

And as any responsible class representative would, Iida reported the incident to their teacher; not with any malicious intention or the objective to harm Bakugo’s reputation, just in order to carry out his obligation and ensure the hole is repaired. But unfortunately in doing so, he landed Katsuki with a month of cleaning duty and dorm suspension, which he was not exactly delighted about.

Though, what irritated Iida was how his classmate did not recognise that his “snitch behaviour” was due to his foremost role of class representative; the blond acted as if Iida sought amusement by informing their superiors about the occurrence, which couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, he actually considered Bakugo’s punishment to be rather harsh , relative to what he did. But he was in no position to question Aizawa’s judgement. 

However, he couldn’t just stand around and allow the bad blood between him and his classmate to rage on. As class president, it was also his duty to ensure a friendly environment, where all students would — ideally — feel comfortable enough coming to him if they are in need of anything. And that simply wouldn’t work if he is viewed as the enemy. 

Hence, the job to befriend Bakugo and return to his good-side fell onto Iida’s shoulders. Thankfully, he’s been regarded as agreeable and persuasive by many other people he has encountered, so he hoped his endeavours would end successfully.

He didn’t let himself get too confident, though. This wasn’t a normal person he was dealing with; this was Katsuki Bakugo, the man who infamously held a grudge on some poor, formerly quirkless boy since middle school. Your everyday charm wasn’t going to work on him. 

After three consecutive knocks, Iida was rather surprised when the door started to creak open before him, halting at a mere slit to reveal a single crimson eye before it was slammed shut again, “Get lost, four-eyes!”

Once Iida regained his composure after that shocking display of impertinence, he gripped the box in his hands tighter as he announced, “I’m here to make amends, Bakugo! I am extremely sorry for my rat-like acti—”

“I don’t want your ‘amends’! Go ‘amends’ someone else! I’m fucking busy.” His disgruntled voice echoed past the walls, likely allowing the whole building to eavesdrop on their conversation, but Iida knew better than to ask him to quiet down.

With an exasperated sigh and a brief massage of his temples, he attempted to subdue his classmate with the item in his clutches, “Perhaps we could discuss this matter over some Kentucky Fried Chicken .”

Silence filled the air. Everything was still until the door slowly crept open once more, displaying a familiar eye who wordlessly surveyed Iida’s stance in search of the aforementioned item, yet he couldn't help the small gasp that escaped his lips when he saw the box of treasure which he somehow didn’t notice earlier; a whole bucket of (All) Mighty Hot Wings!

“You have five minutes.” The blond spat, and that was more than enough time for Iida to get his point across. 

“As I was saying, I’m extremely sorry for my previous actions; snitching on you definitely was not the friendly thing to do.” He paused, waiting for some sort of affirmation to continue but he was only met by Bakugo’s single red eye through the crack of his door, and somehow it was still evident that he was annoyed. “In the future, I’ll be sure to talk the situation over with you and negotiate on the right course of action from there. As for now, I’m willing to give you this bucket of All Mighty Hot Wings in exchange for your goodwill, as I wish for there to be discord between us no longer. This is my last pair of glasses.”

The chuckle Iida let out upon uttering his final comment was not reciprocated — like, at all — so he allowed it simply fade into background noise as he continued to be locked in a staring contest with Bakugo’s right eye. 

Eventually, after even more silence, Bakugo erupted into laughter of his own, but clearly not due to Iida’s joke, “You really think a box of chicken is gonna make me forgive you? After you ratted me out to the teacher for putting the tiniest hole in the wall. You’re fucking dreaming!”

This was partially expected, yet for some reason Iida didn’t anticipate how bitter the blond was about all this, “I understand, Bakugo. Being on dorm suspension must be difficult, and you’re not deserving of it at all.” He almost stuttered trying to force a calm voice and stop himself from yelling, “Howbeit, you must believe me when I say I am truly sorry and I will do anything in my power to gain your forgiveness.”

He could hear the faint click of Bakugo’s tongue followed by “pathetic” from through the ajar partition, yet he chose to remain hushed, allowing the other the time he needed to mull things over. By no means was Iida demanding absolution, but in an ideal world, he’d be granted it. 

Truthfully, at the end of all of this, Iida assumed he’d be the next victim of Bakugo’s quirk and that there’d likely be a hole in his chest afterwards — and he was ready to accept any pummeling he was given, under the belief he deserved it — so the last thing he predicted was for the door to Bakugo’s room to open further, just enough for him to lean against the doorframe and expose his outfit; jeans and a skull shirt. 

“Alright, four-eyes, if you're that desperate then I guess there is something you can do for me.” He grumbled, and if it wasn’t the fact his glare was fixated on the hallway to ensure no one else heard them talking, he probably would’ve barked at Iida for gazing at him with such sappy eyes. 

“Like hell I’ll forgive you, but if ya do a decent job, I’ll stop messing with your glasses.” His voice was uncharacteristically low, verging on a whisper. “Deal?”

Hearing that his lenses would be freed from Bakugo’s indignation was enough for Iida to blurt out a “Deal!” before he even had the opportunity to think over his decision. 

Almost cracking a smile at how eager the specky-bastard sounded to conform to his will, he said, “Alright. Swing by my dorm at half-three tomorrow, we’ll talk about what I want ya to do.”

Before Iida could even open his mouth to get a question in, the bucket of chicken was snacthed from his arms and the door was slammed shut right in his face; yet he barely flinched because this really wasn’t shocking behaviour from Katsuki Bakugo. Adjusting his glasses on the bridge on his nose, he started his journey back towards his own dorm room, yet the whole time thoughts of the blond’s shenanigans plagued his mind. It was a mystery what deal he just got himself bound to; for all he knew, he could’ve agreed to be a hitman!

Though, it was unlikely that an aspiring hero would order Tenya to do anything heinous, so that reassuring fact alone put his racing mind at peace for the night. 

___

At exactly quarter-past three, Iida was already knocking on Katsuki’s door, yet he stumbled backwards when he was shoved aside by the boy in question, who had only just hobbled up the stairs, “How the fuck did you get here so quickly?” Despite how he tried to hide it, the tiredness in the blond’s voice was painfully clear; he was basically panting. 

“You sound exhausted. Don’t say you tried to keep up with me?” Iida smirked as the shorter boy aimlessly fiddled with his keys until he was able to enter his room, casting a dirty glare over his shoulder as he did so. It was evident by his uneven breaths that the blond had completely forgotten about their arrangements, and Iida even briefly saw him rushing to get inside before he did.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m naturally fast.” He grumbled out a reply as he tossed his bags to the side before dropping himself onto his desk chair, relaxing while allowing himself to catch his breath. 

He only acknowledged Iida’s presence once the taller boy began to snicker at Bakugo’s display of weariness, “I’m impressed. Your quirk truly is versatile.” Too worn to pay attention to the four-eye’s remark, Bakugo sat up in his chair before gesturing to his equally plain-looking bed. “Sit.”

He commanded, and Iida obeyed; not wanting to pick a fight after Katsuki kindly invited him into his — rather average — dorm. The only thing that stood out to him as “very DynaMight” was the few weights laying in the corner and the random hero posters plastered on his walls. Besides that, the room looked fairly normal, or perhaps Iida just thought that because it appeared vaguely similar to his own dorm.

“I’ll cut to the chase. I need you to cover for me on Sunday — tomorrow.”

Snapped out of his realm of thought, Iida frantically attempted to reply, “Cover for you? Where will you be going?”

“No where.”

“Then why do you need me to cover for you?” He chuckled heartily, clearly amused by how secretive Bakugo was, and he did not appreciate that one bit. 

“Why do you always gotta stick your fat nose into my business?!” Bakugo barked, furrowing his brows and spinning in his desk chair so he was facing away from Iida, not wanting to even lay eyes upon such an idiot right now, “But if you gotta know, I’m going to a convention.”

The class representative shared an understanding nod — not that Bakugo could see it, or even cared — with a small frown tugging at his lips; breaking the rules in order to let his classmate nerd-out at a convention didn’t sound very moral, or necessary. “What convention? Where is it located?” 

It was inevitable at some point in this conversation Bakugo would flop back in his seat and drum an elongated groan, followed by a snide remark about how even his mother isn’t as uptight. “It’s just some hero convention, just outside Musutafu. I’ll take the train and I’ll be there and back in no time.”

Bakugo wore a smug grin — as if he had just won an award for “World’s Most Cunning Individual” — nevertheless it was promptly wiped off as Iida’s overbearing questions persevered , “No time, huh? What exactly do you plan on doing at this convention then? Also, who will be joining you? Must I remind you that last time you went out on your own you were kidnapped by—”

“Can-it, four-eyes! I didn’t ask for your input!” He spun around in his chair and roared, acutely aware of how mad he looked in comparison to Iida, who’s demeanor didn’t waver. So hastily, he forced himself to repress his irritation, “If you want me to leave your specs alone, you’ll cover for me. Otherwise, you can get the fuck out of my dorm.”

Unaffected by his classmate’s deafening exhibit of annoyance, Iida continued to pry, but now with a more civil tone so it didn’t sound like prying. “Apologies, let it be known that I trust you regardless of your history with the public—”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?—”

“Nevertheless, I think it would be in your best interest to allow me to tag along on your little trip.”

Before Bakugo had the chance to spit a crass exclamation in proximity to “Fuck right off!” or “You’re dreamin’!” Iida waved a hand to suggest he still had to explain. And surprisingly enough, Bakugo slowly shut his mouth and allowed the blue-haired boy to continue — not without rolling his eyes first, though.

“I’ll come with you to the convention, but you have my word I won’t get in your way, I’ll simply be there to ensure your safety and punctuality. Plus, am I right in assuming the outskirts of Musutafu are quite foregin to you?”

A sheepish frown and averted glare was all Iida needed to see, as a knowing smirk played on his lips, “Well, then, I suppose we’re in agreement. I’ll accompany you to your convention! We’ll wake at seven in the morning, and be back by — latest — eight at night. This arrangement will leave us with two hours to complete your cleaning duties before Mr Aizawa arrives at the dorms for lights-out.” 

He began rambling on about the plan for tomorrow, the politeness in his voice contrasting greatly with how condescending he came off as — to Bakugo, at least. Everyone always thought of him as the rowdy, brutish one in Class 1-A, but Katsuki’s seen for himself that Iida isn’t far off the mark himself; he just does a better job at concealing his emotions. As he watched the class rep hop off his bed and venture towards the door with mechanical movements, speaking so kindly after manipulating this whole situation to his liking, Bakugo realised that they weren’t as different as he initially thought. 

Yet, he was unsure as to whether that was a good thing or not.

“Did you get all that, Bakugo?” Iida asked abruptly, standing in the doorway, ready to leave once he got the confirmation from the blond. However, he just sat stunned at his desk, not having realised Iida was talking the whole time he was daydreaming. He roughly scratched his neck as his features involuntarily contorted to display his bemusement. 

“If you want, I could go over the plan again—”

“Don’t worry your speccy head about it! I got it.” He lied through his clenched jaw, aggressively ushering Iida out of his dorm after he was caught giving the blond funny looks through the lenses of his glasses. Lenses that weren’t going to last very long if he continued being smart-assed.

“By the way,” Bakugo grabbed a hold of Iida’s collar just as he stumbled past the door, bringing the much taller boy down to his height so his fiery breath could burn fear into the class president’s soul — which it didn’t, but he did feel his cheeks ablaze slightly. 

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll fucking kill you. And goodnight.”

With those final kind words, the door swung shut right in front of Iida once more. He couldn’t help but beam at how this was becoming a little thing they had going on together, and how Bakugo trusted him despite his poor record of keeping secrets. The feeling of rule-breaking wasn't a nice one, but Iida went into this with the knowledge that he’d have to defy his values at least once or twice. Hopefully it will ultimately be worth it when he gains the respect of his classmate. 

Plus, if violently closing doors and cursing was Bakugo’s special way of showing affection, Iida’s heart leaped at the thought there might even be an intimacy blooming between the two. And if all went well, by the end of this mission, perhaps they might even have established a friendship , or something greater. 

____

At exactly ten-past seven on the dot, Bakugo was abruptly awoken by harsh knocks on his door; usually he’d be able to tune the noise out but today the sound seemed to pierce through his defenses until he dragged himself out of bed to make it stop. Swinging the door open, he glared at the boy he knew would be standing on the other side, “What do you want so damn early?!” His words were sharp yet hoarse, preventing the whole floor from being woken up by his voice. 

“I just came to remind you — because you appeared rather distracted yesterday — to change into a disguise, rather than your usual attire. We don’t want people recognising us.”

Gritting his teeth at the shamefully helpful reminder, the blond hissed before lazily shutting the door, “I was going to do that anyway, four-eyes.” Only after did he realise that he didn’t even catch a glimpse of what Iida was wearing, but quite frankly, he’d like to keep it that way. 

Though he didn’t show it, Bakugo was in a hurry to get this all over and done with, hence he threw on the only “disguise” he had at a scarily rapid pace, while Iida stood outside and suppressed a snicker at the blunt stumbles and falls he could hear from inside. “Be careful.” 

“Shut up!” This time the only thing that dulled his roar was the thin walls, and Iida cringed, ignoring his initial instinct to shush Bakugo, because knowing him, he’d only become louder. 

Eventually the door swung open with another loud bang, but before Iida had the opportunity to reprimand Bakugo for his impetuousness, he was being dragged out of the building by the boy of a smaller stature, who held a surprisingly strong grip on his wrist; though Iida wasn’t sure if it was his body that heated up under Bakugo’s touch, or if the blond’s quirk was activated. 

Either way, it was a straining position he was released from once they exited the building, only to be yanked behind a large tree which would hardly conceal them from prying eyes. Surveying their surroundings closely for snitches, Bakugo tried his best to ignore the biggest-snitch-of-them-all breathing inquiries down the back of his neck.

“Shut your trap, glasses!” He hissed, taking final glances around the campus before turning to Iida with a fiery gaze, “No one’s ‘round. Try keep up.”

The taller boy opened his mouth to ask what the other meant by that statement, but his question was soon answered as he watched Bakugo launch himself towards the gates of the school at an alarming rate; the miniature explosions erupting from his quirk surely alerting teachers or other students. If Iida wasn’t fast, he’d be caught in Bakugo’s dust. 

Fortunately, his quirk revolved around being fast. In no time, after revving up his engines, he had caught up to Bakugo, whose smug expression dropped into a frown as he noticed Iida race past him, flashing an annoyingly chivalrous smile as he reached the gates first in a puff of smoke.

Settling on his feet and resting his quirk for now, Bakugo didn’t waste a second in entertaining small talk with four-eyes and instead continued his trek to the train station without a word. He wore an irritated pout, hence Iida couldn’t help but think losing that little competition had set Bakugo in a bad mood, but perhaps he should’ve thought of that before challenging a member of the Ingenium lineage to a test of speed.

Though, Iida understood if Bakugo simply didn’t want to talk. It was still early in the morning, after all, maybe he was just lethargic. Thus they spent the journey to the train station in comfortable silence; appreciating the warm weather and clear skies, albeit it was a shame they would have to spend such a lovely day cramped inside some convention venue.

Upon arriving at the station, Iida began to worry that their disguises might prevent them from successfully showing their Student ID — which granted them free train rides on weekends — but somehow the ticket examiner saw right through their camouflage, hence they were permitted to remain on the train. 

Turning to Bakugo as soon as the inspector left their carriage, Iida said, “I’m surprised that person was able to recognise our identities through our expert get-ups.” He should’ve omitted "our" for “my” in that statement, as he finally noticed that Bakugo’s disguise was comprised of a pair of jeans, a blue shirt with the text “Hope” on it, his signature derbies, a few dots of eyeliner on his cheeks and a slight green tint in his hair which looked as though he had bought low-quality blond hair dye; overall his appearance wasn’t drastically altered.

Unlike Iida who was wearing his outfit, coincidentally, from their plan to save Bakugo from the League of Villains. Fake mustache and everything!

Apparently, he must’ve found something funny about this situation as a hearty chuckle was ripped from the blond’s throat at the sight of Iida’s ensemble, “Why do you look like an old-timey pimp all of a sudden?—”

The carriage wasn’t as crowded as one would expect for rush-hour on a weekend, but there were still enough people that Iida felt the need to slap his hand over Bakugo’s mouth to quiet him down. Thankfully, he removed his hand before it was burnt to a crisp, but Katsuki was barely letting this shit slide. He’d take revenge on the class rep one day, just maybe not today.

“If we’re asking questions now, then I have two.” The overly cheery grin he wore caused a groan to rumble at the back of Bakugo’s mouth at the mere sight of it. “First of all, why is your disguise so — how do I phrase this politely? — lacking?”

“The fuck do you mean ‘ lacking’ ?” He jeered, yet a slight furrow of Iida’s brows was enough to remind him to remain hushed; so he continued in a much quieter voice, but not dropping his spiteful tone, “I’m disguised as that shitty Deku. So if I get caught breaking the rules, he’ll get the blame.”

While Bakugo was visibly struggling to repress his maniacal cackles, Iida would've seized the chance to go on a long-winded lecture about how framing your classmates and fellow heroes for your own wrongdoings is vile act of callousness, but in reality, he knew that if someone saw Bakugo in that outfit committing a crime, their initial thought would not be “Is that hero-in-training Deku?” so he kept his mouth shut regarding that topic for now.

Instead he chose to move on to his second — and hopefully final — question, “Do you mind telling me why exactly we’re even going to this convention? You don’t seem like the type to break the rules solely for fun .”

Bakugo couldn’t help but frown at how the four-eyes’s teasing grin caused heat to rise to his cheeks. He didn’t want him to think they were friends, because they were the furthest thing from it. Bakugo was simply letting this idiot tag along since it’d be a pain in the ass to navigate the area independently, so Iida was nothing more than his personal GPS. After this was all over and done with, they’d likely go back to being distant classmates; rarely conversing, or on occasion exchanging queries about the classwork. 

But the way things were looking so far, this four-eyed freak might find a way to slip into his life like the snake he is.

“I don’t have to tell you shit.” He grunted, lazily leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed over his stomach, to which Iida stifled a snicker at the sight. “You’re right, Bakugo. You ‘ don’t have to tell me shit’, but this will be a painfully uncomfortable journey otherwise.” 

Glaring at the taller boy’s equally crimson eyes, Bakugo huffed a sigh before mumbling a response, hardly moving his mouth, “For a shirt.”

“For a what?—”

“Are you deaf or something?! A shirt!” 

Bakugo’s scowl slowly contorted into a concealed smirk as he watched Iida burst out laughing, slapping his knee in delight and snorting like a goddamn pig; it was so ugly that Katsuki couldn’t contain his own laughter. 

“A shirt, really?” His voice almost cracked as he wiped a brimming tears from his eye, resulting in Bakugo’s choked chuckles turning into wheezes, “Yes, a shirt! Dammit, why are you always in my business?” 

As their cackles eventually died down to join the absent chatter of the rest of the cart, Iida found the lung capacity to inquire further, “So, what exactly is so special about this shirt you are after?”

Visibly struggling to catch his breath after such a hearty laugh, Bakugo almost flinched upon sensing a hand rubbing tender circles on his back, belonging to the man who sat patiently waiting beside him. He didn’t appreciate being touched so casually though, which manifested itself as a full-body jerk away from Iida’s palm. 

“It’s just a shirt. They are giving ‘em out for free at the convention.” 

“Is it, by any chance, an All Might shirt?” Iida’s harmless question was instantly met by a piercing, wide-eyed stare from Bakugo, gaping at him as if he had intruded on one of his darkest secrets. There was a mix of bewilderment, dread and shock all at once; since Bakugo had something that was commonly regarded as an “expressive face” .

“How do you know?” The blond mouthed the doubt plaguing his mind with great despair written on his features, only to be met with another one of Iida’s bashful snorts, “Oh, just a hunch.”

After that, the rest of the journey was dead silent. 

The next time they somewhat interacted was when Iida checked up on Bakugo to confirm he still had his Student ID on his person, followed by a scoff of, “Yeah, duh”. Once they briskly exitted the train station, Iida led the way to the convention center, but after Bakugo continuously got lost in the crowd, he was then guided by the class representative’s hands on his shoulders. 

It felt unnecessary to him, yet with that method they managed to reach the venue in five minutes, when Google predicted seven! “Alright,” Iida said, stretching his arms over his chest as they approached the imposing building, with ticket booths on either side of the entrance, “What a work-out. Anyway, have you brought our tickets?”

“Eh?” Bakugo cocked a brow, cracking his jaw and absently surveying the surroundings until Iida’s words clicked in his head, “Oh, tickets? Nah. I don’t think we need ‘em.” Just as he said that, he noticed the guards standing by the entrance and despite how he couldn’t see exactly what they were doing from the distance they were at, contextually it was clear that they were scanning tickets — tickets that neither of them pre-ordered.

“No matter.” Iida started, placing a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder to direct him to the queue for people like them who forgot to book as well, “We’ll just buy them right now. They are only—” Iida averted his attention onto the large sign that hung above the ticket booth and hissed upon taking a glance at the unreasonable number, “Nine-thousand, three hundred yen. And that figure includes our student discount.”(9300)

“Ouch.” Bakugo tutted, pulling the pockets of his jeans inside-out to emphasise how he had nothing on his person besides his Student ID. “I think Imma need you to spot me just this once, glasses. I’ll pay you back later, I just forgot my wallet.”

Bakugo acted nonchalant about it, meanwhile Iida’s face contorted to mirror the sheer panic building in his chest, “I was under the impression you’d be handling our fees. Hence why I only brought my phone and these one hundred yen coins!” He dramatically pulled the pair of coins out of his pocket, waiting for some sort of reaction from the blond but to no avail. He showed about as much concern as a statue.

“Pull out your phone then. Don’t you have Google pay or something?”

“I’ve yet to set up Google pay.”

“How about Apple pay?”

“As you can see, I have an Android.”

“Amazon Pay?”

“What?—”

“Shit, we’re screwed.” Bakugo kicked at the air before halting to massage his temples. There was no fucking way he came all the way here just to turn back now so he was going to find a way into that damn convention. And due to his elite problem-solving skills that he’s developed throughout the hero course, it was only a matter of seconds before a cunning idea sprung to mind. 

Without wasting another second, he explained it to Iida, but considering the premise was rather unlawful, he was hardly surprised when the class rep outright denied his proposition in favour of marching up to the guards and attempting to negotiate with them; using his family name and all that shit. 

Iida’s defiance was undoubtedly annoying hell, but it just made it all the more hilarious when he got a faceful of ground after his request was sourly denied. 

“I guess we’re going with my plan, then.” 

“I suppose so.”

It didn’t take much time to set up either. In fact, all they had to do was move a few paces closer to where the guards stood before mercilessly swinging at each; baring teeth and letting out the heaviest grunts possible. They both knew they were acting, yet they fought like their lives were on the line. Their brawl warranting the attention of masses, soon followed by the guards. However, as soon as they stepped in to separate the two boys, they had both already pivoted on their heels towards the entrance, rushing inside without even exchanging eye contact — there was just an unspoken mutual understanding between both of them. 

From there, once they had escaped the view of the horde outside, they both speedily walked towards the most crowded area of the venue, blending in perfectly among the nerds. Then, they were both able to release the contained breaths they’ve been holding from the beginning. 

“Shame.” Bakugo panted, placing his hand on his hip to brace himself, while Iida was completely hunched over and only able to offer a ‘hm?’ in response. “They had to interrupt just as I was starting to enjoy kicking your ass.”

At that comment, they both chuckled faintly until Iida regained his composure and stood straight, offering Bakugo a warm smile as he placed his hand on his shoulder, “I agree. Since that performance was probably the only way you’d stand a chance against me in a fight.”

Ready to retort with similar remark, Bakugo lifted his head to meet the scarlet eyes of his opponent, but his bold expression instantly fell into a frown as noticed the massive crack along the centre of Iida’s glasses, as well as with the obtrusive injury on his nose, “Dude— you’re bleeding.” Was all he could think to utter.

The taller boy blinked a few times, as if he was waiting in vain for his vision to clear, pending his hand slowly reaching up to take off his glasses and examine them, “Indeed. And my lenses are broken too.” 

“No matter.” He huffed a breath of resolution, calmly folding his glasses and slotting them into his pocket, not allowing himself to be despirited over such a minor setback, “I’ll clean myself up. Meanwhile, perhaps you could practise your moves; your kicks were a tad sloppy.”

Smug bastard, Bakugo thought to himself, his lips pulling into a sneer as he shrugged the hand off his shoulder. He wondered if Iida has always been this cocky, or if this a new part of him that he’s now comfortable with sharing? Not like Bakugo cared, definitely not, he’s just surprised that their austere class representative was physically capable of partaking in banter.

“We can put your theory to the test tomorrow at lunch then, eh?” Riling people up was just so fun to Bakugo, but he was disappointed when he didn’t get the reaction he anticipated. Upon further scrutiny, he noticed that Iida’s attention seemed to be focussed on something behind him. Following his gaze, Bakugo’s eyes eventually fell upon the scene of a group of small boys — probably around eight or nine years old — just outside the men’s bathroom. 

Three of them were dressed as power rangers while the other was dressed as Ash Ketchum, but that probably wasn’t why Iida was staring. The boy in the Ash Ketchum costume was holding a folder, likely filled with pokemon cards, and one of the power rangers was trying to wrestle it away from him as he cried pleas along the lines of “Please leave me alone! They’re mine!” yet the power rangers continued to snigger and taunt the poor boy, not giving it a rest. 

It was a classic Bully vs Victim scenario, in which Ash Ketchum would have his extortionately overpriced pieces of paper stolen from him if someone didn’t intervene.

It was ironic that after just committing a crime, Bakugo suddenly felt the urge to be a hero but he knew if no one else was going to help, he had to. Hence, he invited his intimidating presence into the situation, glaring daggers down at the power rangers until they released the folder of cards, “Oi, what do you brats think you are doing?”

Confronted by the human manifestation of their literal nightmares, the kids feebly mumbled incoherent spurts of “sorry, sir!” and “we won’t do it again!” , dropping everything in their possessions — including a small box of orange juice — before rushing back to whatever hole they crawled out of. “Just like magic.” Bakugo hummed, a proud grin forming on his features until he felt a gentle tug on his trousers, dropping his gaze to meet the star-filled one of Ash Ketchum. 

“Thank you, sir! I thought I was gonna lose my pokemon cards for good.” 

Bakugo picked up the carton of juice before spinning on his heels, already heading back to the area he stood with Iida while waving at the boy from over his shoulder, “Yeah, whatever. Don’t mention it. And learn how to fight so those kids don’t pick on you again.” 

The boy yelled something in response but Bakugo was already out of ear-shot, approaching Iida’s clapping form, “Wow, bravo! I was about to step in, however you handled that more efficiently than I ever could have. Props to you.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s just go get that damn shirt, and fast. Those dudes are probably searchin’ for us.” Bakugo muttered, wandering towards where he recalled catching a glimpse of an All Might stand when they flew in, with Iida trailing after him like a lost puppy. 

“ 'Those dudes' ? Are you referring to the guards?” 

“Yeah, who else?” Bakugo scoffed, ironically keeping his head up high while discussing how they were on the run from security, “Stay on the ball, they probably know what we look like too. Take this.”

Opening his mouth to inquire about his statement, Iida’s lips were immediately sealed by the underhand carton of orange juice that was prodded against his leg, which he gladly accepted. “Ah, thank you, Bakugo.” He hummed, breaking the straw off the carton and piercing it through the plastic hole before taking a large gulp of the liquid, basically chugging the box in under ten seconds. 

Then he proceeded to dispose of his litter as they arrived at the end of a lengthy queue; solidifying their notion that this was where they’d be able to get a shirt. Hopping onto his toes, Bakugo attempted to peer over the many heads of the people lined up in front of them, only to furrow his brows with impatience, “I’m not waiting in this long-ass fuckin’ line when there are guards searching for us!”

Before Bakugo was able to rush off — likely to cut some poor kid in line — Iida held a firm grip on his shoulder, pulling him back and naturally subduing the explosions erupting in his palms, “If you want to draw more attention to yourself, then sure, be my guest. Even so, I think it’d be a smart idea to remain inconspicuous back here.”

Heat rising to his features, Bakugo clicked his tongue while forcing Iida’s hand away, rolling his eyes as a means to avoid his stern gaze, “Yeah, whatever.” He muttered, scowling more as he heard a merry chuckle from behind him, “The fuck are you laughing at?!”

“Why, nothing.” He hummed innocently, though Bakugo just let out a grunt in response; not at all convinced. “Say,” Iida started, leaning close to the blond’s hot ear with an inquisitive tone, figuring that if they were going to wait in a queue for ages, he may as well try to make it entertaining. “Why is it that Midoriya calls you ‘Kacchan’ ? I’m guessing it’s a portmanteau of your given name and an honorific, but is there any significant meaning behind it?”

Now, they both shared a similar puzzled expression, but Iida’s was more from curiosity rather than pure confusion, “Eh, who’s Midoriya?” The blond uttered, eyes lifeless as if he was being genuine — regardless, surely he had to be joking. Right?

“Um,” Iida was unsure where to even begin with his answer, “Our classmate.”

Bakugo’s resting bitch face didn’t falter. 

“Izuku Midoriya.” 

Still Nothing.

At this point, Iida’s eyes were rolling back in his head from total vexation as he rubbed his temples. Bakugo sure knew how to push his buttons to the point where he could barely contain his frustration over the most trivial issue, “Hero-in-training Deku! The one you are currently in an awful cosplay as!”

Suddenly, it was as though realisation struck him down with a spear and he visibly perked up upon hearing that name, “Oh! Him.” Bakugo said, only holding his smile of accomplishment for a few moments before it dropped into a disgusted lower, “You could’ve just said shitty Deku.”

Having to massage the bridge of his nose after that onerous task, Iida strived to clear his face of tension, until his hand was yanked away by Bakugo, who pointed out the blood leaking from his wound once again, “I thought you said you cleaned it up.”

“I thought I did.” Iida almost stuttered, eyes wide upon observing the crimson liquid smeared on his hand, stare fixated on the horrid sight before his focus shifted onto the foreign touch against his skin. The coarse — yet clean, he could tell by the faint waft of alcohol — hands would lead back to the blond below him, who felt the urge to be the hero, again. 

“Stupid bastard,” He snapped, sharp words greatly contrasting with the gentle swipes of his finger, ridding the wound of excess blood but resulting in Iida hissing the process; the sensation of hand sanitizer in a cut wan’t pleasant. However, Bakugo didn't appreciate the sudden movements, hence he held a tight grip on his jaw to keep him in place. “Why didn’t you take your glasses off before the fight?” 

Iida offered a wobbly smile in return, struggling to focus when his bones were on the verge of being crushed by Bakugo’s killer grasp, “It was wrong of me to assume you’d go easy on me, considering it was a fake fight and all.”

He shook his head in response, a proud glint flickering in his irises as he pulled away to admire his work. He had successfully cleaned Iida’s gash, so now all he had to do was pray that it would prevent any further bleeding. “So, were you not using your full power?” Bakugo asked, relatively calmly.

“I was not.” Iida spoke nothing besides the whole truth. He risked a hostile reaction, but he saw no benefit in lying right to his teammates face. 

Conversely to his expectations, the single change in Bakugo’s demeanour was the shit-eating grin that infected his features, accompanied by a rasp of, “No wonder you got your shit handed to you then.”

“Well,” He chortled, squinting to see the blond without his glasses, “I’m grateful that it was by none other than the adroit King Explosion Murder.”

Something about that comment caused the thumping in Bakugo’s chest to halt for a moment — and only a moment — while the tips of his ears began to burn with passion. The kind most familiar to him was rage, but this felt different. He knew it was different; what normal person would get mad at a compliment?

Why, Bakugo Katsuki, of course. However, before he got the chance to start barking unintelligible insults at the class rep, their shared concern was stolen by the deafening wails of a child standing in front of them in line, hastily followed by their mother shushing them, “ Quiet down, please! I already told you, the real All Might isn’t here; it’s just shirts!” Despite her desperate pleas, the toddler's shrieks never stalled.

Taking initiative like the goody-two-shoes he is, Iida slid in their interaction with a mellow aura, exchanging looks of empathy between the child and the mother, “Is everything alright here, Ms?”

Scooping her resistant son into her arms, the lady jumped out of Iida’s path with slanted brows and wobbly smile, “Ah, sorry, young man. You and your friend can go ahead of us.” The child continued to kick and cry until she placed him back on the ground, “ He just doesn’t understand the concept of reality and fiction yet. I promised him an All Might shirt but now he’s making a fuss because the real All Might isn’t here. The whole reason I bought these stupid wristbands was to get him one of those shirts.”

Iida shared a nod of compassion, casually throwing his arm around the equally defiant Bakugo and drew him close to his chest, “I completely understand how you feel. Kids can be pains sometimes. My son has been putting up a fight all day; I basically had to drag him here.”

“Son?!—” Bakugo roared, jerking his head up to glare daggers at Iida, but his advance was reciprocated by a wide-eyed stare accompanied by an even scarier, toothy smile.

“Yes, son .” He spoke with bared teeth. 

Immediately averting his gaze, Bakugo angrily crossed his arms over his chest in a true “moody teen” nature, unintentionally selling their act to the lady, “Whatever.”

Iida’s expression dropped into his regular friendly one once again as turned to face the lady and her son, “Anyway, what was that you were saying about the wristbands?”

The mother pressed her lips into a fine line, attempting to hold a conversation with Iida while also preventing her child from escaping her grasp, “The wristbands? I bought them with our tickets for an extra 6000 yen. You need to buy one if you want access to the free merchandise.” It took a single glance at both of their arms for features to fall into a frown, “Did you not buy one?”

They didn’t even need to look at each other to know the other one was grimacing at this  outrageous information, “No. I wasn’t aware of the whole wristband arrangement. Nobody told me.” Iida punctuated each word of his last sentence with a discreet yet forceful prod on Bakugo’s shoulder. “However, I share a mutual friend with pro-hero All Might. If you want, I could get him on the phone right now.”

The mere utterance of his idol’s name influenced the child into momentary silence, causing a relieved sigh to leave the mother’s parted lips, then turning to gaze at Iida with pleading eyes, “Please do, sir. Or else he’ll be crying for the next week about this. You can have our wristbands in exchange! Or I have around fifteen thousand (15000) yen on me, if that works—”

“Just the wristbands will do, thank you.”

“I’ll take the fifteen thousand yen!” Bakugo interjected with a bold smile, reaching out for the woman’s purse until Iida swatted his hand away. 

“No, you won’t.” Iida hummed, pulling out his phone from his pocket and opening Midoriya’s contact, silently praying that All Might was on campus today, otherwise he just lied to this poor woman’s face. Plus, her son would likely start sobbing even more. Please pick up, he thought.

“Hello? Iida, where are you? I’ve not seen you around campus. Are you alright?”

An audible sigh escaped him upon seeing his friend’s face pop up on the screen, “Yes, hello, Midoriya. I’m doing alright, just on a little outing. Anywho, I ran into a child who is a big All Might fan and well, one thing led to another, and I promised his mother that I could get his hero on a face-time call.”

Midoriya gasped, focussing on the wrong part of the image in front of him and happened to catch a glimpse of a certain rowdy blond in the background, “Is that Kacchan!? You’re out with him ? Out where? On a date? Wait, isn’t he on dorm suspension?”

A pink tint dusted over Iida’s features, that he swiftly hid by pinching the bridge of his nose, “He’s supposed to be, yes. But this trip is of great importance, so I trust you won’t inform our higher-ups.”

Smiling fondly at his phone camera, Midoriya said, “It must be serious if you broke the rules to sneak out of the school with Kacchan, of all people. My lips are sealed.” He zipped his mouth shut with his fingers, “So, do you want me to get All Might on the line? I’m outside his office right now.”

“That would be very helpful. Thank you, Midoriya.” Iida bowed his head, receiving a final smile from Izuku before the call was put on hold. Taking advantage of this moment of tranquility, he allowed himself to exhale a deep sigh and relax the majority of his tense body; not flinching as familiar, blistered fingers came in contact with his wrist while slipping the wristband on. 

“I managed to get them off that kid and his mum but the little brat put up a fight. He threw better punches than you too.” 

Iida snorted, assuming that statement was hyperbolic considering Bakugo didn’t really seem like the type to get into physical altercations with children, and win. “You were victorious against a child half your age that hasn’t even developed his quirk yet. Well done, Bakugo.”

“Whatever.” He huffed through his nose, peering over the class rep’s shoulder to identify who he was calling. And something about seeing Deku’s name on his screen caused his mouth to taste bitter, yet he knew exactly why Iida chose to ring him. He hated to admit it but he probably would’ve phoned Deku too if he needed to get in touch with All Might; that’s if he had the nerd’s number saved in his phone, which he does not. 

He had Iida’s number saved, though. The precise name of the contact escaped him but the fact he had it saved was conclusive. Most of his classmates were given stupid nicknames that Bakugo created at the start of the year, so Iida’s was probably “specs” or maybe “glasses”, but that didn’t sound right. Bakugo would have to make a mental reminder to ch—

“I am here!” 

The sudden shout from Iida’s phone was strident enough to startled everyone in it’s proximity, except for the young boy whose face instantly lit up with joy and he scampered over to the source of the noise, doing grabby-hand until the device was placed in his — fleshly sanitized, due to Bakugo’s insisting — hands.

“Hi, All Might!” He chirped with a cheesy grin, as if he hadn’t just been bawling his eyes out to seconds ago. And he seemed to have received that trait from his mother, who now wore an equally merry expression, despite verging on a breakdown earlier.

The pair of masterminds glanced at each other briefly before Bakugo began walking forward, reclaiming their rightful spot in their queue while Iida arranged to collect his mobile from the lady once they had reached the front of the line and obtained the shirt. Neither the boy nor his mum matched the typical description that one might class as “shady” so he highly doubted that they’d steal his phone. 

A brisk jog was all it took to catch up with Bakugo, who previously pouted as if the queue had moved centuries without them. “Look, we’re almost at the front.” He said in a rather flat tone which made Iida question whether he really wanted this shirt or not, but he didn’t bother to quiz Bakugo on the matter, especially since Iida doubted the blond himself even knew what he wanted. 

"Indeed." He said, glancing at his watch, his lips curling to form an 'o' shape, which swiftly caught Bakugo's attention. 

"What's the matter?" 

"It's only noon." His eyes were fixated on the expensive analogue cycle adorning his left wrist, "At this rate, we'll be back at the dorms a lot sooner than I predicted." 

"Eh?" Bakugo quirked a brow, visibly proud of himself for picking up on the slight disappointment in Iida's tone, "That's a good thing, right? Less chance of people noticing we're gone." 

"I suppose," He started, his gaze finally meeting Bakugo's much fiercer one, "But it's going to be a hassle to sneak back in during the day while everyone is hanging around in the courtyard. I propose that we wait till dusk, when everyone is beginning to filter back inside."

Intuitively, Bakugo shifted his glare elsewhere, avoiding eye-contact between them at all costs. He was consciously doing so, yet he couldn't explain why. Usually he loved striking terror into others with his signature death stare, but Iida was different. It was unsatisfying and vain to attempt to build upon a fear, when the victim wasn't scared in the first place. 

So far, he's met tons of people in UA who could beat him — in a physical competition or a test of wits, but none quite like the class representative. Who Bakugo tried so hard to defy and disrespect in the beginning, in order to shake the power structure, yet in the end, here he was with the guy he wanted to hate so badly. Agreeing with each other; a mutual understanding. 

"Sure, whatever. I just don't want to get ratted in, again ."

Tenya couldn't help but roll his eyes at the joking spite laced in Bakugo's comment, "That settles it! We'll preoccupy ourselves with other business, and head back at around seven. That will leave us with plenty of time to get our chores done before bed." 

" Around seven? Maybe I should knock your lights out again, just to make sure there isn't a villain hidin' inside you?" He chuckled, roughly pinching Iida's "skin" for inspection purposes. 

Yanking the blond's hand away with an odd venom, Iida's lips curled into a smile, "I can be lax if I want to. They call it, The duality of the Ingeniums ."

All he got in return from Katsuki was a deadpan stare, "Nobody says that." 

Expression not faltering, he uttered, "Right, again, Katsu—" 

"Next!" Before Bakugo could process what he just heard, a foreign sound entered his senses; that of the man working the t-shirt stand, calling them over for their wristband check.

Briskly walking up to stall — with Bakugo tagging after him hurriedly — Iida greeted the vendor with a hum of, "Good afternoon, sir! We're here to—"

"Show me your wrist, please." 

Though abrupt, Iida forgave the poor man for his impatience since he's probably had to deal with endless problem-children today, and of course he could empathize with that. So without another word, he stuck out his arm so the man could scan the little barcode on the wristband.

Once the machine let out a small chime, the man dumped a paper bag from under the table onto the surface, and pushed it into Iida's grips. "Enjoy your free All Might shirt. Next!" There was not a single emotion to be detected in that man's voice, even when he was hollering commands at people.

Departing from the stand quietly, Iida turned to Bakugo with a teasing wiggle of his eyebrow, "Did you hear that? My free All Might shirt; have fun standing in that line and waiting for yours." Before he even got the chance to motion to the queue that had almost doubled in size since they arrived, the bag was snatched out of Iida's grips and being surveyed by the blond, his crimson eyes darting over the most minute details on the fabric. 

"Polyester. Cheap as hell." Bakugo mumbled, rubbing the fabric between his fingers as he clicked his tongue.

Somehow his profession and expertise switched from 'aspiring hero' to 'fashion critic' in under a second, as he was even scrutinizing the way the design was sewn on, "The stitching is shit too! I hope the kids in the sweatshop are getting double pay for this, because there is no other way this bullcrap should retailing for over fifteen-thousand yen!" (15000) He yelled while shoving the shirt back into the paper bag, which Iida knew was destined to rip soon if it isn't soon freed from Bakugo's merciless clutches. 

"Fifteen thousand yen? Is that really how much they are selling this for?" Bakugo's unimpressed silence was enough of an answer for Iida to continue, "Well, no wonder you wanted to get your hands on it for a discounted price, then."

The blond glowered, aggressively folding the shirt before forcing it back in the bag of shame, "Yeah, why else would I want it?" 

"Uh, I was just under the impression that you were a hardcore All Might fanboy—" 

There was less than a second between Iida upright near a cluster of stalls, and him being tackled into a random photo booth by Bakugo.

The disheveled blond was hushing Iida before he even attempted to speak. Covering his own mouth, the pair sat in tense silence. Though, Bakugo was evidently aware of something that Iida wasn't, as all the class rep's senses were able to perceive was the still body pressed against his own and the faint sound of their hearts beating in unison. It was oddly tranquil for what was supposed to be a suspenseful moment.

"Clear." A deep voice called out from outside the booth, accompanied by a static beep. The curtain was whipped closed right behind them, but from under the small opening at the bottom, Iida noticed that the shoes of the figure resembled those of the guards from outside. 

Not daring to move until the guard was well out of proximity, Bakugo finally let out the breath he had been holding once the heavy footsteps faded into background noise. His thoughts were mostly filled with relief, yet he continued to fret over what could have happened if they got caught. It was terrifying to think that his whole career as a pro-hero, the tireless training and studying might've all been stripped from him in the blink of an eye. He couldn't think straight.

His distress was abruptly interrupted by a shrill beeping noise and flashing lights on the screen in the centre of the photo booth. "Ah, it worked!" Iida cheered with triumph, shuffling into a more comfortable position while trying to align himself with the camera on the opposite wall. 

"What worked?" 

"I inserted my one hundred yen coin into the slot." He motioned to the screen, which displayed words in bold asking them both to look at the camera, "And now we can take pictures." 

Bakugo rolled his eyes while shuffling closer to Iida so they were both in the frame, "We could've got caught like ten seconds ago and now you are taking pictures?"

"What better way to celebrate?" The class president offered Katsuki a cheesy smile before turning to face the camera and hovering his finger over the start button, "Ready?"

With narrowed eyes and an uncooperative scowl, the blond gritted, "Whatever." Thankfully he was already squinting, otherwise Bakugo would likely have been blinded by the bright flash of white that echoed his response. 

"What the fuck?" He hissed, searching for the source of the shine but instead frowning upon laying his eyes upon a rather unflattering image of himself — with Iida posing beside him — presented on the monitor. 

"Delete that!" He immediately pounced at the screen, trying to press the large red button but when it came to speed, Iida always had the upper hand.

Before the blond had time to react, the countdown for the next pictures began, resulting in a frustrated groan drumming in this throat — which was perfectly captured by the next image snapped by the godforsaken booth. 

All he could do now was force a smile and wait for this nightmare shoot to end. Too lazy to come up with his own poses, he cast a glance at Iida and simply mirrored his stances, which he soon came to regret when he realised how nerdy he looked in the picture preview. 

As soon the quiet beeping began, indicating the last photo, Bakugo nudged Iida’s shoulder, flashing him a scheming smirk through the screen, “Copy me this time!” He announced, acknowledging Iida’s polite nod before throwing up a metal hand sign and sticking out his tongue, stifling a chuckle as he watched Iida’s features contort to mimic his. 

In a final flash, their last image was temporarily shown on the screen; the only one Bakugo was pleased with. (See the link in ending author’s note)

Soon after, the strip of pictures were printed out, gliding out of the slot and gracefully landing on Bakugo’s lap. Iida’s chin neared his shoulder as he watched the blond run a thumb along each image, grunting at every one until he reached the final one, then he let out a chuckle. “We look badass!” He said, heart rate increasing as he turned to look at Iida, who was not only scarily close to his face but also wearing a frown. 

“I’m not a fan of that one. I can’t see it perfectly without my glasses, but I look like a brute.” Was all he had to say, to which Bakugo scoffed and replied, “Well, it’s the one I look the coolest in. So it’s going in here whether you like it or not.”

Iida tilted his head in question as he watched Bakugo rip the special image off the strip and slide it into his pocket, where he kept his student ID. Iida didn’t get a chance to comment on how endearing he thought that was before the rest of the strip was being hurled at him, “Take this shit! I don’t need the rest of them.” Laughing, he obliged and folded the rest of them, placing it in his pocket too. 

“Once I get my phone back, perhaps I can put the photos in my photocase?” Iida hummed, losing himself in thought once again while Bakugo led them out of the booth, guiding them outside, but not without checking around each corner for the guards. “I’ve seen Uraraka and Asui do something similar. It’s quite unique, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, well,” Bakugo grumbled, struggling to survey their surroundings and remain stealthy when Iida was breathing questions down the back of his neck, “I don’t know who either of them are, but they're probably close friends. I don’t want people thinking we’re like that. Now, shut the fuck up.”

Unsurprisingly, that first statement was more effective in silencing Iida than the latter, because how was he supposed to reply to that? By informing Bakugo that Uraraka and Asui are his classmates? Or perhaps by reasoning with him; a pros and cons list would surely do the trick in convincing him to form an intimate friendship with Iida, right?

The most unfortunate thing about this was how Iida couldn’t even explain why he felt such an admiration for Bakugo. He wanted to assume that it was his friendly nature, but he has never been attracted to someone so greatly before, to the point where rejection felt like a thorn through the heart; debilitating, almost. It was verging on embarrassing; to him, emotions have never been a thing he wanted to hide, but rather control, yet today he seemed to have lost his ability to do so. Everything felt so overwhelming, and he was enjoying it until now. 

Once they eventually arrived outside, Iida gasped a much needed breath of fresh air, attempting to compose himself and hunt for the little brat with his phone, while Bakugo had to deal with another brat pulling at the leg of his jeans. Casting his gaze down, his eyes met those of the boy whose pokemon cards he saved from bullies earlier, and although he inwardly groaned to himself, he tried to offer the little shit a kind smile — which in reality, looked like a maniacal grin.

“What do you want, kid? Did your cards get stolen again?”

He shook his head, pulling out his card folder from behind his back and opening it to a random page, slipping out a card which he held in front of Bakugo’s face with two fingers, as if he was about to perform a magic trick, “No, but I want to show you my quirk.”

“I don’t really ca—” Bakugo choked on his words, watching in awe as the Gyarados EX pokemon card transformed into a two thousand yen (2000) note, that was being thoroughly inspected by Bakugo within less than a second of it’s creation. “What the hell? Is this note real?” From what training he had, there was no obvious sign that the note was counterfeit. 

“Yeah. That’s my quirk.” 

Bakugo froze, furrowing his brows with skepticism as his eyes darted between the hyperrealistic note in his hands and the little boy, “Can I keep this?” He uttered, figuring there was no room to be heroic when he didn’t have any cash on him. 

“Sure.” The boy's words trailed off as Iida came into view; the class rep’s mere presence near both of them caused his mouth to hang open. Well, until Bakugo forced it shut, “You’re letting the flies in, boy!”

“Are you best friends?”

“Huh?” Bakugo snarled, and thankfully the kid was entranced by the older boys together, otherwise he probably would’ve burst into tears at the sight of Katsuki’s expressions.

“You look just like Cilan and Cress!” He bounced on his toes, excitedly hopping around the duo in circles, “Where’s Chili?”

“Who are these people?!” Bakugo roared, clenching his fists as a large hand was placed on his shoulder, followed by a whisper in his ear of, “They’re characters from Pokemon. Just go with it.”

Locking eyes with the kid once more, Bakugo sighed in preparation for the second smile he had to muster for the sake of ‘children’s feelings’. “Whatever you say, kid. Now, scram. I bet your mum is looking for you.”

Nodding enthusiastically, the boy wasted no time in scurrying away, waving over his shoulder as he did so, “Goodbye, Cilen! Bye, Cress!” He shouted, hence Bakugo replied, “See ya. And thanks for the cash!” With that, the boy disappeared inside the building, and they both silently hoped he made it back to his parents safely. 

Bakugo wasn’t even granted the opportunity to recover from his previous interaction before a phone was shoved in his face, “That’s Cilan and Cress. We look nothing like them, besides my blue hair and your — temporary — green hair.” Iida pointed out, gesturing to the google image he had searched for.

“I had no idea you are such a pokemon nerd.”

“I’m not!” Iida instinctively made a chopping motion with his arm that caused Bakugo to burst out in cackles, “I just happened to watch a few episodes with my brother in our youth, is all.” 

“You’re still in your youth, dumbass.” Bakugo scoffed, reminded of the note in his hand by the faint crunching it made when he clenched his fist. Hence, like any good friend would, he waved it in front of Iida’s face with a teasing smirk, “While you were inside, doing fuck all, I was getting paid.”

Iida rolled his eyes, taking the initiative of walking away from the building and of course Bakugo pursued him, but solely so he could brag more. “A whole, crisp two thousand yen. I could buy two Whopper meals with that.” He mused, examining the note as if this was his first time laying eyes upon currency.

“Bring out some candles and it’s a date.” Of course upon hearing his commentary, Bakugo’s initial instinct was to trip up Iida as he walked — to enact revenge — but he fully anticipated this and he dodged, which only infuriated Bakugo more. 

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.” The sarcasm in Bakugo’s voice was crystal clear, yet Iida still grinned as though his words were genuine, “You talk a lot of shit for a dude who embodies virginity. Have you ever even made eye-contact with a girl before?”

“I don’t plan on doing that until I’m married.” Iida joked, hastily changing the subject by gesturing towards the street sign behind them that pointed in the direction of the mall. “There’s a Burger King over there, if you’re hungry. I know I am.”

A long hum was drawn from Bakugo’s throat as he mulled over his option, all while subconsciously glaring at the sign that hung above Iida’s head. There was food at UA so it would be wasteful to spend his money on junk food when it could be spent on something of greater value, like weights. But then again, in accordance with their plan, they weren’t going to head back to school for at least another six hours, and Bakugo was starving right now.

“Alright, fine. Let’s go to Burger King.”

“Excellent.” Iida declared, swiftly turning on his heels and marching in the direction of the mall, expecting Bakugo to follow suit, which he did, “On our way, you can tell me about the countless romantic endeavors you’ve been on, since you seem to be an expert on the topic.”

This request caught him rather off-guard, he must admit. To the point he almost stuttered in his immediate reply, “You wish, four-eyes.” Nailed it, Bakugo thought to himself, certain that with such a convincing performance, Iida would never guess that he’s never had a partner before. 

But unfortunately for Bakugo, Iida assumed as much. 

___

Until they reached the Burger King entrance, most of their conversation consisted of playful jeering and squabbling over whose favourite musicians are more problematic, like a couple of twelve year olds in a YouTube comment section. (Bakugo said it was Iida because all of his favorite artists had very traditional mindsets, but Iida said that doesn’t count since most of them are dead and therefore can’t cause harm, meanwhile Bakugo’s favourite musicians constantly sing about drugs and disrespecting women in the twenty-first century!)

Anyway, once they placed their orders and found their seats, Bakugo saw that Iida just so happened to leave his phone defenceless, laying flat on the table. So while it’s owner was distracted by sanitizing everything in sight, Bakugo slipped his hand under the board, grabbed the device and pulled it into his lap, sneaking small glances at Iida just to ensure he didn’t notice.

Unsurprisingly, the phone was password protected so for now all he could do was mess with the front camera and silently cackle at the notifications. I knew that motherfucker played Candy Crush , his internal dialogue screeched. 

Eventually he put the phone back in it’s rightful spot, but like the gracious friend he is, Bakugo clogged up Iida’s storage with an infinite amount of photos of him in many rather offensive poses, and by that I mean his middle finger was up in virtually every single one. Hopefully Iida will be pleased with that.

He placed it with the screen flat on the table, hence he finally noticed a certain image tucked underneath Iida’s clear phonecase. Bakugo didn’t think he was being serious about that. It was the entire strip of photos from the booth; in all of which, Bakugo looked either distracted or straight up ugly. However, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad about it.

He moaned under his breath, grabbing Iida’s phone and messing around with it once more while he was still preoccupied at the register. If Iida insisted on being such a sap, Bakugo may as well help him do it properly, hence he did god’s work and replaced the row of images with the single — much cooler — one he had in his pocket. He managed to finish this task before Iida came back. 

"Oi, glasses." Bakugo groaned with his chin lazily propped up by his palm (that Iida urged him to sanitize first).

"Can you really call me that after you damaged my last pair, and my nose too?"

His original plan was to annoy Iida about how bored he is, but being reminded of that incident caused a snort to erupt from his throat, as he mocked, "You looked so stupid squinting to read that menu!" Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he slammed his first against the table, recalling how Iida was struggling to see the list of prices above the cash register because they were too far away. 

“And whose fault is that?” Though he put up an unaffected front, his face still paled at the memory.

“Yours—” Bakugo cut himself off upon hearing the number on his receipt shrieked from the counter. Thus, he cast Iida a slight glare before hopping up from his chair to grab his food, shortly returning to the table with a milkshake and two burgers on his tray, which Iida chuckled at.

“Treating yourself today, huh?” He teased, but only because he knew Bakugo wasn’t the type to eat junk like this every day, otherwise he probably would’ve been more careful with his wording. To be fair, there wasn’t much he could say around Bakugo without irritating him somehow, so attempting to filter himself would be pointless. 

“I guess.” The blond shrugged, shoving one burger towards Iida while unwrapping his own, “That one’s yours. Mine is the one without mayo.” Lifting the top bun, Iida could’ve sworn he saw a pleased smile flicker over Bakugo’s lips before he took the first bite into — what he verified was — his burger.

“Uh,” He almost stuttered, staring puzzled at the unwrapped burger presented before him, “I thought you said both were going to be for you. It is your money, after all.” 

“What? Are you not hungry or something?”

Eyes widening at the tone he now realised he may have come across as, Iida frantically began to wave his arms around in defense, “No, I am! I’m just,” He paused, stroking his chin as he pondered a way to describe it, “ Surprised. I was under the impression you disliked me too much to even contemplate such a kind gesture.”

“Don’t make such a big thing out of it.” Bakugo grumbled with his mouth full, causing Iida to visibly cringe. 

“Alright. Well, thank you.” He muttered, carefully unwrapping the burger and holding it up to his friend’s, wearing a dorky smile that Bakugo immediately rolled his eyes at, “Cheers?”

After a moment of consideration, he averted his narrow gaze in an attempt to hide the redness creeping across his features, as he gently prodded his burger against Iida’s, “Cheers, loser.”

___

Slurping up the rest of the milkshake that Bakugo couldn’t bare to finish, Iida placed it upon the tray — along with the rest of the rubbish — and disposed of it all in the nearest trash can, walking back to the table with a certain spring in his step that was clearly lacking before; and all the blond did was scowl. 

“That was a delicious meal.” He sung, wiping the corner of his lips with a napkin to get rid of the non-existent excess, “I’m usually not a fan of overly processed food but it was actually quite enjoyable today. Perhaps it’s because I got to share it with a friend.”

For the best, Bakugo didn’t make an effort to pretend he was listening to Iida; instead he just grumbled with his hand on his stomach, staring blankly at the ceiling, “I’m stuffed.” His eyes appeared glazed over, as if he was in a state between consciousness and oblivion, with a weak hold on both. 

Iida chuckled at the sight, getting up from his seat and motioning for Bakugo to do so as well, "Who knew the great King Explosion Murder could be conquered by fast food?" 

Jumping to his feet and tailing Iida out the food court, Bakugo yelled, "Who said I was conquered, eh?" 

When he wasn't immediately greeted with a reply, he spat a second inquiry, "What time is it?" 

Glancing at the silver accessory adorning his wrist, Iida said, "Three." 

"Three?" Bakugo quirked a brow, "No way. Let me see, blind ass." He grabbed Iida's, yanking it towards himself so he could view the time displayed on the platinum clock face. Three o'clock. 

"It doesn't feel like we've been out here for three hours."

"Well," Iida tried to reason, stroking his chin with his thumb to hide the smile tugging at his lips, "It took an hour for us to walk here, an hour to eat, and another hour for me to find for you amongst all the tall people."

"I'm 5"8, jackass!" He retorted, evidently not amused by Iida's joke, providing all onlookers with the sight of Bakugo red with anger while Iida was on the verge of tears from laughing so hard at his own joke. 

Peeved, the blond muttered, "As soon as we get back to UA, I'm kicking your ass." 

Leaning down to Bakugo's height, Iida teased, "Why wait?"

"I'm not beating you up in the middle of the mall. You'd probably enjoy it too much."

Eyebrows furrowing at the accusation, Iida frowned, hence the flustered air chopping began, "I absolutely would not! I take no pleasure in violence, especially from you. And I disapprove of the undertones of your statement. What led you to believe something like that was appropriate to say in public?"

Bakugo yawned, not even sparing Iida a glance, to show how disinterested he was.

Eventually coming to that realisation, Iida attempted to calm down with a sigh, "Also, I meant a video-game fight." He said, gesturing to the flashing sign across from them, displaying the words "Fun this way!" in bold, hanging above what appeared to be an equally vibrant arcade.

A sinister grin began creeping across Bakugo's features, wicked joy flickering in his eyes. Finally , he thought, Something fucking interesting.

"Bet." 

Before Iida had a chance inquire as to what he meant by that, Bakugo had already blasted off in the direction of the flashing lights, and if it wasn't for the fact he wanted to be mindful of his fellow mall patrons, Iida would've jetted off ten times faster — just to show him up. 

On foot, however, he was still able to reach the arcade with haste, catching up to Bakugo who was currently hunched over the Dance Dance Revolution bar, trying to catch his breath. Perhaps using his quirk at full power directly after eating wasn't such a bright idea.

“I only have one coin left.” Iida stated, and the blond simply growled at the reminder. Slowly pushing himself up to reveal his grimace, “What game are we gonna play, then?”

“I’ll leave that decision up to you.” The class representative hummed, wearing that signature beam that did nothing besides cause Bakugo to toss his head back and groan, “Why do I even bother to ask you shit?” 

Finding balance on his feet, Bakugo began his trek through the various rows of games, searching for a multiplayer one that he was particularly proficient in, with Iida absently treading on his heels; not that he minded, by now he had just accepted that fact there was no straying from the class rep. 

However, after surveying the entire arcade, they both came to the conclusion that there was not a single competitive multiplayer game in sight. All of the consoles were either single player or co-op, and the last thing either of them wanted to do was cooperate right now. 

Fortunately, there was a particular game that never failed them. 

Watching as Iida slid his last coin into the slot, causing the accents of the steering wheel to flash with every color of the rainbow, Bakugo took his seat in front of the Mario Kart GP DX screen, grousing about how unfair this situation was.

“Of course I have to play a driving game against a human car. Definitely a balanced match.”

Iida sighed, taking his seat next to Bakugo and taking a pack of hand wipes out of his pocket, “I’m not as expert at driving as you may think. I’ve never even operated a vehicle before.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.” 

“If you’d like,” Iida said, offering Bakugo a sanitizing wipe which he took begrudgingly, “I could go easy on you. It’s the least I could do after you bought me that burger.”

“Don’t you dare.” The hastiness in his response resulted in a chuckle erupting from Iida’s throat; Bakugo was truly a predictable being. 

“Very well, then.”

Once the wheels had been sterilized, Iida disposed of the wipes before they started preparing for the match. During the character selection, it was mostly done in dead silence, until they both got a look at each other’s final decisions. 

“Daisy?” 

“Yes, Daisy!” Bakugo shouted, glaring at Iida’s screen with the intention of taking the piss out of whoever he selected, but it was Luigi, so there wasn’t much to say. “Shut your trap and just wait until I win!” Having played the game before, Bakugo was aware that Daisy’s consistent stats were best for his strategy, and he wasn’t going to let some four-eyes mock him for it. 

“What map shall we play on?” 

“Don’t care.” 

Iida shrugged, clicking on the first options he was given, “Splash Circuit it is.”

With that, the countdown began. 

Rivals glared at each other — nothing but rage and passion burning in their pupils — yet their matching smirks exhibited the true meaning behind the race. In the end, only one of them could win, and with nothing more than an intense stare, they both communicated their unwavering confidence. 

Three!  

Actually, now that they've met eyes. 

Two!  

It was somewhat… 

One! 

Intimate. 

Go!  

And they’re off. Though locking each other in a death stare match was entrancing — perhaps to a concerning extent — they were both snapped out of it by the familiar sound of Lakitu waving his checkered flag, indicating the start of the game. 

Bakugo could’ve gotten whiplash from how fast his neck whipped around to look at the screen, but still not fast enough; Luigi tore in front, leaving Daisy in his wake. 

The majority of the next lap was spent with Bakugo hot on Iida's tail, hurling insults and profanities at the class representative, whose entire attention was fixated on the game before him; though he did take a mental note to reprimand him due to his use of such foul language once this game was over. 

Evidently, fate selected the sinner this time, as Bakugo was soon granted an All-Mighty blue shell, which devoured his competition and allowed him to seize the title of first place.

"Ha!" His exclamation was more adjacent to a spiteful scream than laughter, as he raced past Luigi, who was violently spinning off the track. 

Iida hissed, but he didn't give up just yet. He continued his pursuit of victory and ascended the ranks once again until he was mere inches behind Bakugo. 

The blond's skillful play-style made it virtually impossible to slip by him, so the class representative was left with minimal options as they approached their third and final lap. 

As well as the expert maneuvers, Katsuki created even more challenges by dropping banana peels behind him, resulting in Iida having to dodge the oncoming hazards, and such precision greatly slowed him down. 

This trend of Bakugo teasing the hell out of Iida continued until they both crossed the finish line — with Katsuki only a few inches ahead, but the winner regardless. 

"Yes!" He screamed, jolting up from his seat and throwing his fists into the air, only lowering them to point arrogantly down at Iida, who wore a mild expression, "Take that, extra! Try calling me short again after that crushing defeat." 

The class representative smiled, in a way that irritated Bakugo to no end — how could he be so happy after getting his ass handed to him again? 

Clapping, Iida said, "Congratulations, Katsuki. You are, indeed, number one."

He swallowed his words, simultaneously bemused and stunned by the name. In no way uncomfortable; simply surprised. A part of him wanted to ask Iida to repeat himself; but he was unsure whether it was because he wanted to confirm his suspicion before jumping to conclusions, or simply because he wanted to hear it again. 

"Howbeit, you're unfortunately still rather small." Iida teased, standing up from his seat, exclusively with the intention to emphasise the height difference. 

He was aware that Iida was just trying to get on his nerves at this point, yet it still worked. 

With a clenched jaw and furrowed brows — an expression that looked rather humourous from above, Iida noted — Bakugo stormed off, presumably to head to the train station. 

Iida followed, even though it was rather early; he understood how Bakugo may just want to escape all reminders of his vertical stance challenges. 

Plus, if they continued bickering on their venture, it'd likely take double the time than planned — an extra second wasted everytime Bakugo halted to push Iida a few paces behind him, because he has to be in the lead, of course. 

Then, an extra ten minutes every time Iida ceased motion to point out some tourist attraction to Bakugo and explain — in excessive detail — the history and trivia surrounding the structure.

___

The train ride back to UA was oddly pleasant. Bakugo had fallen asleep and Iida read various news articles on his phone for the majority of the journey. They barely interacted but the awkwardness of the situation had been stripped away this time, leaving them with mutual comfort. 

As soon as they exited the train station, they were greeted by the unwelcoming weather; grey skies with a lifeless hue and rain that audibly smacked the ground. The mere sight had them flinching, as they knew the journey back to school would be a miserable one. 

“Any chance you brought an umbrella?” Bakugo murmured, blankly staring out in front of him with hooded eyes that occasionally drifted closed, watching the harsh rain cause puddles to expel droplets onto his black derby shoes, creating the illusion of a sheen. 

“I didn’t.” Iida laughed to hide the pain in his voice; just thinking about how wet his clothes would be after this made him cringe, “In my defense, the weather forecast was bright and sunny for the entire day.”

Bakugo couldn’t help but chuckle too, but not for the same reason, “Out of all the people who I thought would’ve come prepared for a situation like this, you’d be at the top of the list. But here we are.”

“I suppose I wanted to be more relaxed today. I didn’t want you to think of me as an uptight weirdo.” Iida spoke gently, little vexation in his voice as he stuck his arm out into the rain, only to confirm it was pouring, “But I’m certain if I didn’t try to appear ‘cool’ , we could’ve avoided many of our dilemmas. My apologies.”

His eyes wandered over Iida’s side profile, stupidly mesmerised by the guy who has caused him so much trouble. He’d be lying if he said the thought of the class representative putting in so much effort to please him wasn’t flattering, but he’d rather die than vocalise that. Instead, he settled for speaking his second truth, “You’re an idiot. A certified idiot.”

Iida smiled at the name, because he knew it was correct; though there’s no one else he would tolerate it from, besides Bakugo. “Let me propose one of my idiotic notions, then.” He offered out his hand. 

Yet Bakugo stood unwavering with his arms crossed and brows furrowed, clearly too tired to deal with his dynamic counterpart, “I’m not holding your hand. But go on.”

“If you hop on my back, I can jet us back to UA quickly, which will minimise our time spent in the rain.” He spoke keenly, stroking his chin as if his plan was some genius, intricate concept, when in reality, it sounded like a piggyback race. “The milkshake from earlier should be enough fuel to last my engines the whole journey. So, how does that sound?”

It was almost impressive how Bakugo had the balls to be so curt in this situation, “On your back? Hell no.”

Already stretching his legs and preparing for his brisk — yet inevitably onerous — sprint, Iida said, “Well, regardless of whether you want to join me, I’ll see you there.” 

Bakugo simply grunted, mentally weighing up his options as heard the revving of engines from beside him; the only sound to be heard besides the ferocious rain hitting the ground. The noise served to remind him of his fate if he walks — or sprints — back to UA on his own. The image of his hair dripping and clothes squelching was far from a pleasant one. Plus, in all honesty, he was exhausted. Today has probably been his most eventful day since he got kidnapped by the League of Villains, and at least then he was sitting down for the majority of it. 

He wished more than anything that the skies would clear up right then and there, but they didn’t.

Instead, he was forced to swallow his pride and demand that Iida bend over so he could get on his back. And his grumbles of displeasure were mistaken for those of discomfort, since Iida couldn’t fathom a reason as to why Bakugo would be upset with this arrangement. It was just a friend doing another friend a favour. 

“If you’d prefer, I could carry you bridal.”

Okay, well, he wasn’t an idiot. He understood the implications of his offer; hence why he was unable to contain a snicker upon hearing Bakugo’s brusque response, “I’d rather die.” He grumbled, trying to stay as far away from Iida as possible, while also staying on his back. 

“Alright. Well, hold on tight!” 

“How about no—”

Within a split second, Bakugo had accidentally obeyed Iida’s recommendation which he had planned to defy. Not that he had any other choice but to hold on for dear life when they were rapidly accelerating and slicing through the air and rain like it was nothing. Sights darted past Bakugo’s eyes at a rate he couldn’t even begin to comprehend; everything around them was virtually a blur, all he could see was in front of him. 

He knew what it was like to go fast — when using his quirk correctly, it granted him immense speed — but never this fast. 

It was almost scary; if either of them let go, he'd be critically injured. Yet he was content watching the world zoom past them, because he knew that would never happen. Not with Iida.

The rain seemed to bend around them; a field of bliss splitting through the bleak air. The occasional droplet of water found its way into Bakugo's hair, or clinging to his skin, but he was too high up to care. Water nipped his skin like miniature blades but he paid no mind, not when the breeze running through his air had his adrenaline pumping, along with the sight of the world disappearing under his friend's feet. Any sign of his fatigue had been swept away by the intense winds.  

He let go. His arms shot up into the air to experience the air resistance; along with the rain continuing to pour over them. It was intoxicating. 

Iida's grip on the boy's legs tightened upon realising that the hands previously on his shoulders were missing. Of course, his first instinct was to rebuke such reckless behaviour, but as he heard fervent cheer echo against the lines of apartment buildings they raced past, he chose to silently smile instead. Seeing a hidden side to someone is beautiful; he couldn't afford to ruin this precious moment.