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“Katsuki, this is Mrs Midoriya and her son, Izuku. We’re neighbours now. Say hello.”
Five-year-old Bakugou Katsuki tries to pull away from his mother’s hold, adamant. He does not want to meet new people or make friends.
“Hello.”
There’s something soft and nice about that voice so he looks into bright green eyes, ready to claw something. That urge dies fast.
He scowls. “Go away.”
The boy before him blinks in surprise before he laughs and kneels to level his gaze at Bakugou’s height. “I’m Izuku. Nice to meet you, Kacchan.”
***
Bakugou Katsuki is nine years old, and like most nine-year-olds, he has dreams. But what makes him different from the rest is that he knows he’ll achieve them.
He stops walking and stares across the road. Unlike that fucking Deku who’s cowering before a group of boys, hiding something behind his back. One of the boys grabs Deku by the collar and Bakugou can hear their disgusting laughter all the way from here.
He strides across and curls his fingers, smoke swirling around his fingertips.
“Hey!” he hollers.
The boys turn around to look at him, and the biggest one sneers. “Whaddya want, kid?”
Bakugou shrugs. Evidently, the delinquent thinks he’s a small fry.
“Kacchan! You should go home!” Deku cries, his green eyes pathetically wide.
Bakugou gives him a glare. “I’m not the Quirkless one here.”
Deku bites his lips and looks down, and as much as Bakugou can’t stand his pathetic tries to play the hero, he hates anyone else messing with the older boy. He’s the only one who can insult Deku - no one else.
“Fuck off,” he sends a blast in their direction. For a nine-year-old, he knows he has an impressive arsenal of curses. The boys look shocked, and they stumble backwards.
“I’ll roast you all,” Bakugou says, and he’s not joking. They stumble away with shrieks and take off. Bakugou smirks in their direction before looking Deku over. He’s clutching his stupid Hero Observation notebook in trembling hands.
“Why don’t you stop that?” Bakugou snarls. “You can’t be a hero if you don’t have a Quirk. Get over it.”
Deku gives him one of those revolting smiles again. “Thank you, Kacchan. But- I will be a hero. Just you wait and see!”
“Yeah, and get yourself killed,” Bakugou hisses, but he grabs the older boy by the wrist and drags him home. He notes with satisfaction that the small circle on the inside of Deku’s wrist is as it has always been, and Bakugou’s certain it will stay that way for the rest of his life.
***
All it takes is a year for everything to change. One moment, Deku is Quirkless and pathetic, and the next, he is un-Quirkless and still pathetic. Bakugou is taken aback when his mother grabs him and exclaims that “Izuku has a Quirk! He’s been accepted to U.A.!”
Some part of Bakugou refuses to believe it. This has to be some elaborate joke. In all the five years he’s known Deku, the boy has never had a Quirk.
He’s walking down a street, kicking a drink can in a cloud of anger, so much so he doesn’t notice that the surroundings are eerily silent. He goes down screaming when something slithers into his mouth and chokes him, trying to engulf him and Bakugou thinks he’s losing his mind. He activates his Quirk, explosion after explosion, but he’s losing his sense of self and his breath at the same time.
“Kacchan!”
His eyes widen - there - a mop of green hair, in a blur, rushing towards him.
“Get away from Kacchan!” the older teen shouts, making futile grabs at the sludge monster as the slime slips through his fingers. God, he’s going to die, and this stupid Deku is going down with him.
Just when it feels like everything is over, he hears everyone gasp. Black dots float in his vision and he loses consciousness, but not before he sees the familiar figure of the beloved Hero, All Might, and next to him, fucking Deku, tears streaming down his face.
***
After the attack from the sludge monster, Bakugou’s popularity spikes even more. He’s been praised by his saviours, the media and everyone around him. He’s sick of it. Sick of it all. Because the one who was brave enough was Deku, really. Fucking Deku.
Deku, who is attending U.A. now, and learning to be a Pro Hero. They broadcast the Sports Festival and Bakugou can’t quite believe that the boy who launches himself in that minefield all the way to the front is the Deku he has known since he was five.
Bakugou swears that he will overshadow Deku when he gets into U.A.
Bakugou also doesn’t like that curl of anger when he sees Deku face-off the half-and-half brat. Doesn’t like that he relentlessly destroyed himself to try and help his opponent. Fucking Deku.
***
Bakugou doesn’t see Deku all that often anymore. He’s too busy learning to be a Hero. On the rare occasions he does, he lashes out and avoids the older boy with vehemence. He hates the feeling at the pit of the stomach when he sees a stupid melancholy smile on Deku’s face.
Finally, finally, Bakugou enrolls in U.A, three years after Deku started working with All Might. His existence is one well-documented by the fools who seem to adore him, awkward media presence and all.
Fucking hypocrites, all of them. He’ll rise to the top and overwrite everything that Deku has achieved in his years in U.A. Bakugou will become a Hero better than him - the only one deserving of the Number One position. He will make Deku acknowledge that he’s the best. Still better than Deku himself.
Bakugou is sitting with Kirishima, looking through one of the homework sheets Aizawa has assigned to them, when the girls suddenly break into ear-piercing gasps. He growls but continues looking at his paper, but all semblance of concentration is lost as they begin to discuss the news loudly.
“There’s rumours that Deku and Shouto are dating!”
Bakugou's fist tightens around the paper in his hand.
“But that’s just rumours right?”
“I heard they were really close in U.A. And in the article they posted on HeroMag, there’s pictures of them holding hands and just being close.”
“It’d be really cute if that’s true, huh?”
“I wonder if they’re soulmates?”
Bakugou kicks the table to the ground and storms out of the classroom. Behind him, Kirishima shouts and follows. “Hey, man, what’s up with you?”
“Fuck off, hair-for-brains,” he hisses. He wants to incinerate something.
***
The rumours continue to grow, until one day, everyone waits with bated breath as Todoroki Shouto and Midoriya Izuku turn up at the press conference they have promised the people.
Bakugou is watching against his wishes, what with his mother pulling him to the couch and pushing him firmly into the seat. He watches as Deku enters the conference room first, a faint pink dusting his cheeks, and he bows to the host. Following him is Todoroki Shouto. He’s too fucking close, Bakugou thinks. The man shows no emotion on his face, and he looks neutral as they begin talking.
A quarter of an hour in, the host asks what everyone has been waiting for.
At last, Deku looks up. And he smiles. Lifts up his hand and shows it to the audience. There’s a collective gasp as the ring glints in the bright lights, and he turns to Todoroki who slowly lifts his, revealing an identical band around his ring finger. He entwines his hand with Deku’s and leans closer to him.
“I’m sorry we kept our relationship hidden,” Deku bows, and Bakugou can’t watch this disgusting farce anymore. He’s had enough.
“We were still going through a lot and figuring things, so we decided to take our time until we were ready. And recently, Shouto- Todoroki-kun proposed to me. We talked things over and decided to officially reveal our relationship.”
There’s a lot of clapping and screaming, and the announcer teasing Deku about his fuck-up with Todoroki’s first name.
Bakugou tears himself away from his mother and looks at the circle on his wrist. It looks just as it did when he was a child. He knows they did it intentionally - that moment where they zoomed into their wrists, revealing identical blooms on both Todoroki’s and Deku’s wrists. Soulmates.
Bakugou laughs into his hand, and his tears soak the pillow.
***
The next time he sees Deku, the moron’s grinning stupidly and occasionally fingers the ring on his finger. When he reaches over to congratulate Bakugou on getting into U.A., he pushes the hand away with a snarl, noting the growing blooms on Deku’s wrist. He towers over him now, but he’s never been terrifying to Deku.
Because Deku will continue to look down on him as the little kid he knew.
***
When he gets the call from his mother, he could’ve lied to himself that he hadn't run to the hospital as if his life depended on it. Bakugou doesn’t bother knocking, only tries to slide the door open slowly. But he hears voices, so he peers in through the crack.
“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I couldn’t-“
That pathetic sobbing voice could only belong to one person. But what he hears next makes his blood boil.
“Izuku, you can’t save everyone. You almost lost your life today. I can’t imagine a world without you. Thank you for coming home to me.”
There is a choked sob.
Bakugou sees, for the first time, the patchwork of scars and insecurities that fill the cracks of Midoriya Izuku’s cheerful, fearless façade. It is a vulnerability Deku has never shown him. Never will.
The cerulean on the inside of Deku’s wrist blossoms like sunflowers rising with the sun, circling his hand and darkening as he reaches out to cup his fiancé’s face.
The world dims. Bakugou turns on his heel and shoves the nurse as he strides out of the hospital, insides stained a bloody red as his heart shatters.
***
Bakugou doesn’t believe in fate. Destiny. Soulmates. But if there were such a thing, then whoever is in charge must be a fucking piece of shit choking on popcorn at his expense.
“Kacchan, imagine meeting you here!”
He reaches out, hand splayed out as if to ruffle Bakugou’s hair like he had when they were children. For a moment, he is frozen. Wants to feel fingers carding through his hair. Bakugou’s eyes rove over Deku’s companion and the illusion shatters. With a venomous snarl, he slaps the callused hand away and pushes himself out of his chair.
“Don’t touch me.”
Deku’s expression pinches, but the smile stays on his face. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a while. I only hear about how you’re doing from your mom. Congratulations on graduating!”
“Stop acting like you’re better than me!” Bakugou hisses as Todoroki wraps an arm around Deku’s waist and tugs him back. There is too much noise pounding away at his head.
“Bakugou, come on.” A tug on his shirt. He tries to pull away, but the grip is firm.
“It’s so awesome see you, Shouto and Deku,” Kirishima says, a bright grin on his face.
“All the best with your hero work!” Deku chirps and Todoroki gives them a nod.
“We’ll be going ahead.”
“Of course, have a good Christmas!”
The merry mood has long fled but Bakugou could care less. The only reason he’s here at this stupid meet-up is because Kirishima pestered him until he gave in just to shut him up.
“Well, we’ll make a move first,” Kirishima says with a smile, gathering his belongings and giving Bakugou a light push. “Thanks for today, guys!”
The walk to their shared apartment is quiet. Normally, the redhead talks Bakugou’s ears off but it seems he’s actually using his head for once.
As soon as the door shuts behind them, Bakugou slams Kirishima against the door and swallows the questions before he can ask them. There is nothing beautiful about the way they kiss — it’s teeth clashing and bitten lips, angry bruises down Kirishima’s neck that will purple come morning.
When they fall into bed, Bakugou ignores the way Kirishima’s eyes linger on the bandages that conceal his wrist.
***
“It’s him.”
Bakugou narrows his eyes. “What?”
“Hero Deku. You love him.”
With a snort, Bakugou throws the blanket off them, uncaring of their nakedness. It wouldn’t be the first time. He rummages through the cupboard for a pair of boxers. “Didn’t know you can literally fuck someone’s brains out.”
“Stop playing it off.”
“And who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” Bakugou turns around, irritation scratching at his throat.
“The one who’s stuck through your bullshit all these years.”
The expletives sound wrong when they come from Kirishima’s mouth. His expression is grim. A little melancholy. There is no trace of the smile he’s always wearing.
“You need someone to talk to, I’m here. You know that.”
“What are we, some dumbass kids sharing secrets at a sleepover?”
A teasing grin slants the corner of Kirishima’s mouth. “We can be. Maybe that’s all you’ve needed this whole time.”
***
The stabbing pain recedes into a dull throb. When he sees gossip rags about what disgustingly sappy thing Shouto and Deku are up to this time, he isn’t overwhelmed by an urge to blast it into smithereens.
Something is changing.
He doesn’t know what it is, but the noise in his head unravels.
***
Bakugou doesn’t believe in fate. Destiny. Soulmates. But the next time he rolls into bed with Kirishima, the circle on the inside of the man’s wrist lightens and bleeds gold, ever so slightly. Two pathetic petals form.
And when Bakugou unwraps the bandages in the bath, two ruby-red petals stare back at him.
***
“Kacchan, can you believe we’re on a mission together?” Deku asks, but Bakugou ignores him. He adjusts his gauntlets and gazes out at the buildings that glint under the bright summer sun.
“I’m not doing this right, am I?”
Finally, Bakugou turns to look at the older hero. Same verdant eyes and smattering of freckles. Cheeks a little gaunt.
“Nice to meet you, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.” He snickers, that same stupid smile lighting up his face. “I’m Deku.”
Bakugou’s exposed wrist itches, where more flowers have taken root.
“If you don’t take my hero name seriously, I’ll beat your ass,” he bites out.
Deku laughs again, clear and relieved. “Come on, let’s go!”
He shoots off the roof, crackles of light following his path to the next building. As Bakugou follows suit and overtakes Deku, he snaps the last shoots of feeling and buries them where they will never again see the light.
He’s free.