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Katsuki Bakugou is strong.
If you were to ask him, he'd probably say he was the strongest , and then he'd yell at you for asking him and threaten to blow you up.
(He's working on that. The scorched remains of many, many stress balls sit in the wastebasket of his dorm room.)
He doesn't always feel very strong, though.
Sometimes, he doesn't feel strong at all.
"It's your fault to begin with for being so weak!"
Katsuki flinches ever so slightly, then shakes his head as if he could physically scatter the memory from his mind. He talked with his mom, after much, much pushing from the people he unfortunately calls his friends, and she recognized that it was not true nor was it okay to say. She was better now, a little nicer to him. It's…weird. But she doesn't think he's weak. Nobody thinks Katsuki Bakugou is weak.
Nobody, except, of course, Katsuki Bakugou.
Sure, he's stronger than a lot of his classmates, which is saying something because, although he'd never say it out loud, his classmates are some of the strongest people he's ever met. Sure, his teachers and peers have always praised his strength. Sure, the media talked about his power and the strength he exhibited at the sports festival.
But Deku, Izuku, is not far behind him at all and his classmates are way too close to being in his league, and none of his teachers or peers understood the strategies and techniques he had come up with and always zeroed in on his powerful quirk, and the media was quick to turn around and paint him as a fragile victim (for the second time) after the shitshow at the training camp and everything that came after.
He's not strong enough. He never is.
If he was, he wouldn't have failed the provisional license exam.
If he was, he wouldn't have needed to be saved, and wouldn't have caused All Might to…to…
If he was, he wouldn't have been taken in the first place.
If he was, maybe Todoroki wouldn't have held back at the sports festival, and he could have actually earned that medal, and maybe that meant he could've avoided the muzzle and restraints, which was utterly humiliating and felt far too much like sludge encasing him and holding him still as it poured down his throat, up his nose, into his lungs, suffocating him-
His fingernails dig into his palms.
If he was strong enough, that stupid villain wouldn't have been able to make him cry in his bed when he got home, and he wouldn't have had to deal with the newspapers, the photos, the social media posts, the news footage, the pity, the way everyone started to look down at him with sad eyes because he was just some victim, the constant reminder that he would have died if it weren't for All Might just because he was too weak.
Not to mention the…whatever this is. The times when he can't help but remember the way he struggled for control of his own body, the way thrashing and scrabbling did nothing to stop the sludge that poured into his airways, the way everybody there just watched, his weakest moment broadcast to everyone, and he's going to die, he can't breathe, oh god he can't breathe-
No no no, stop it, stop, no, he can't be there again -
"Bakugou?"
He blinks blearily, looking up through teary eyes to see Eraserhead standing in front of him. He towers over him like this, when did Katsuki sink down to the floor? It doesn't matter, it's hard to focus through the phantom slide of sludge over his skin, around his throat, over his chin and into his mouth and nose-
The angle makes it hard to read his expression, his face mostly obscured by his scarf, and the tears in Katsuki's eyes certainly don't help, plus his eyes keep skittering along their surroundings like a cornered animal. His back is literally against a wall currently, the coolness of it seeping in through his uniform, so maybe it's an accurate description.
He makes a strangled sort of noise, he thinks, and his hands move from where they'd apparently fisted in his blonde hair at some point down to his mouth, scratching at something that isn't there but is, because he's choking and he can't fucking breathe-
Eraserhead, Mr. Aizawa, very carefully kneels down in front of him, putting his hands up in some sort of surrender when Katsuki instinctively tries to push himself backwards even though he can't move any further back.
He should say something, but just thinking about the concept of opening his mouth provides the image of a thick and dark substance pouring in with ease, and he nearly whimpers at the thought.
Mr. Aizawa's brow creases.
Scratch that, apparently he did whimper at the thought.
"Katsuki." He says, gentler than before, and Katsuki glares at him the best he can manage with watery red eyes. He doesn't want more pity, more treating him like he's made of glass, painting the picture that Katsuki Bakugou is fucking fragile.
He coughs and sucks in a breath that he chokes on, one hand scraping his nails at his throat as the other paws helplessly at his mouth.
Maybe he is fragile.
"Katsuki, can you describe to me what nitroglycerin looks like?"
What?
" What?" He chokes out, his mind halting to a stop as he processes the absurd request. "The- uh. It's, um, it's a colorless liquid. Viscous." He manages.
Eraser moves slightly closer and Katsuki is too caught off guard by his next question to feel the need to flinch back.
"Good. What's the water solubility of nitroglycerin?"
Katsuki frowns. He knows this. He just has to- to think, to think about anything other than what it felt like to have those black dots swimming at the edge of his vision, to hear Izuku's muffled cries as he tried desperately to get him out-
He can answer this. His mind just needs to be quiet for a second.
He ignores everything other than Eraserhead and the nitroglycerin facts he memorized after his quirk manifested.
"The-?" He takes in a short, shaky breath and it burns, but it's still air. He's not fully suffocating, it's just- Difficult. He can handle difficult. "1.4 grams per Liter."
"Good." Aizawa repeats. "How about you just tell me some things about it?"
"Mnn," Katsuki's brow furrows, pushing further past the feeling of sludge and oxygen deprivation to answer his teacher's stupid pop quiz. "It's also called glyceryl trinitrate. It tastes sweet. S'got a high freezing point, um. Um, it's." His throat tightens. Aizawa waits patiently. Katsuki has never bombed any academic test and he isn't going to start now. He focuses on the floor beneath him, the wall behind him, the fading light coming through the windows; they're in the halls of UA. "13 degrees Celsius and 55 degrees Fahrenheit."
He glances around again, much less erratically and panicked than before. He is a cornered animal that has found escape routes, and he won't die today. The hallway is thankfully empty except for them. It seems like it's about time for everyone to go to bed and get ready for tomorrow's workload, judging by the dimming light from the windows.
The sludge villain isn't here.
He takes a deep breath in and a deep breath out.
He'd stopped scratching when he'd started focusing on the questions, instead he simply balled his hands into fists and kept his arms up in a protective, shielding way. Embarrassing. Worse, they're trembling . He drops his hands abruptly into his lap and stares at Eraser, who stares back, albeit with a weird look on his face.
Neither of them say anything for a moment and Katsuki mulls over the best threat to use to get him not to mention this… freakout to anyone else.
"Are you hurt?" Aizawa asks. Katsuki raises his eyebrows; he'd been expecting the dreaded 'are you okay', said as if they already knew he wasn't and expected him to start crying when they asked.
He rubs his throat and neck. His skin is a little irritated and his throat is sore but it's nothing too bad.
"Nothing I need to see Recovery Girl for." He mutters.
Eraser frowns slightly at him, but doesn't push it.
"...you wanna talk about what that was about?"
" No ." Katsuki says immediately, scowling at him. "No, it's- no. It doesn't matter. Just don't tell anyone and I'll go to my dorm-"
"Bakugou."
He shuts his mouth and glares at him, but his teacher doesn't seem bothered by it.
"I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to." He promises. "But you should talk about this, even if it's just to your friends."
"Or you?" Katsuki says sarcastically. Aizawa says nothing and he scoffs. "Yeah, right. Look, it just- it happens sometimes. Don't worry about it."
It seems to have the opposite effect, making Eraser's expression just a little more pinched.
"How often?" He asks.
Katsuki realizes, suddenly, that this isn't just going to disappear. His sensei has a stubbornness that rivals his own and he's made his stance on this clear.
He grits his teeth but forces the words out, if only to get it over with.
"Usually, I catch myself ahead of time so I don't get far in thinking about- uh. Thinking about it." He rubs the front of his throat with one hand and looks away. He isn't chastised for the lack of eye contact. "I was, uh. Remembering the, the fucking-" he glances at his teacher but receives no reprimand for the curse that slipped out, so he continues. "The fucking…that sludge villain."
"Ah."
"I couldn't breathe." He adds, quieter. "I was suffocating in front of a bunch of people and I would have died there if it weren't for All Might. At the, uh, at the sports festival, when I was- when I was muzzled and chained up, it felt like…" He trailed off.
"I'm sorry." Aizawa says, startling him slightly.
He looks at him again, narrowing his eyes, tensing up a little. He doesn't want any more pity.
"What?"
"I'm sorry." Aizawa repeats. "I didn't have a say in that. They never asked me about it, they just…" He looks frustrated for a moment, although it clearly isn't aimed at Katsuki. "I'm not sure why they thought muzzling and restraining a child and forcing him to take a prize he didn't want, all on live television, was okay. It wasn't okay, and I'm sorry."
Katsuki stares at him.
"Huh." He says after a moment. "I thought…I thought you agreed to it. You never mentioned anything about it afterwards."
Eraser sighs.
"I promise you I didn't agree to it and wouldn't have if they'd asked. I should have checked on you, that was my mistake."
"Oh." Katsuki relaxes slightly. "Well. Good, I guess."
Aizawa hums in agreement, eyeing him for a second or two.
"When you say you were remembering…" He raises an eyebrow.
Katsuki shrugs.
"I know he's not here and can't be, but it felt like he was and he got me again. It's stupid, but yeah. That's why I, uh." He gestures vaguely at his neck and jaw.
Eraser nods slowly.
"You were having a flashback."
Katsuki blinks once, twice.
"Isn't that something you need to have PTSD for?"
Aizawa raises an eyebrow at him and doesn't answer for a long couple of moments.
Katsuki starts suddenly, sitting up straighter.
"I have PTSD from that shit?"
"Sounds like it." Eraser nods again. "Which isn't all that surprising. It sounds horrible to deal with."
"I can't have PTSD! I'm a hero!" Katsuki hisses, panic rising quickly. How is he supposed to be number 1 if he has flashbacks to 1 small incident all the time? What if the media found out and said he was weak? What if his friends found out and thought he was a baby? What if-
"I have PTSD."
Katsuki's thoughts screech to a halt, zeroing in on Aizawa again.
"...what?" He asks. Maybe his hearing aid broke or something.
"I have PTSD." Eraser shrugs. "So do a lot of pros. It isn't talked about a lot, and it probably should be, but. Yeah."
Katsuki processes for a few minutes, and Aizawa stays there, quiet and patient.
"Oh." He says, eyes a little wide. "Shit. I mean. I guess that makes sense logically, or whatever, but I never…I just thought…oh."
"Yeah." Eraser nods. "If you ever need anything or want help dealing with it…" He trails off and Katsuki avoids eye contact again. The offer of support is nice, even if he won't say that out loud and doesn't initially plan to take him up on it. As if sensing Katsuki's thoughts, he adds a simple "You have to be strong to deal with PTSD and still be as great a hero as you are, you know."
Katsuki digs his nails into his palms again and nods sharply, hoping his body language doesn't convey how much that meant to him.
Neither of them say anything for another moment.
"Why did you start quizzing me on nitroglycerin?" Katsuki blurts.
Aizawa blinks, slowly, then shrugs again with a small hum.
"Normally, I'd run a breathing exercise, 4-7-8 breathing, but you seemed to be having more trouble with that than usual." He explains. "So I did a grounding exercise of sorts. There's a lot of those. The one I did was meant to make you focus on something else instead of whatever was making you panic."
Katsuki frowns but nods, drawing his knees up and resting his arms on them.
"Makes sense, I guess." He admits. "It worked."
"Indeed it did." Eraser glances up at the windows. The hallway is darker than before, so Katsuki figures it's probably night, or very close to it. "You should get some rest, kid."
"Yeah, I know." Katsuki mutters. "I still don't want you telling people about this. I don't need to be seen as weak when I'm- when I'm not. " He snaps.
Aizawa tilts his head slightly.
"I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to." He says again, slower. "Not because it'd make you look weak, but because you deserve your privacy and it's not my business to be telling."
Katsuki grunts a little and pushes himself up onto his feet.
"You're not weak, Katsuki."
He closes his eyes, briefly, letting those words wash over him.
He opens them again quickly and scoffs.
"Obviously." He dismisses, deliberately ignoring the warmth in his chest. He holds out his hand to Eraser, who seems to take it mostly out of pure surprise over anything else, then helps pull him up.
Once he's on his feet, Katsuki jerks his hand back as if burned, shoving it into his pocket and staring up at the ceiling with far too much interest.
"I'm gonna go to bed." He declares.
"Night." Aizawa says, nodding. "Get some rest."
"Yeah." Katsuki glances at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Uh. Mnngh. You- uh, you, too? Whatever. Tomorrow's class better not waste my time." He scowls and turns on his heel before Eraser can respond, heading off to his dorm.
He feels Aizawa's gaze on his back up until he turns the corner, which is when he allows himself to slow down a little and sag slightly.
"Weird fucking teacher." He murmurs under his breath. Maybe he will take him up on that offer; it would, probably, be nice to talk to someone who actually gets the whole…remembering thing. (Flashbacks?)
Katsuki rubs his neck absently.
Aizawa had PTSD and although he wouldn't ever tell him to his face, Katsuki considered him to be one of the strongest heroes he'd ever seen.
Maybe he's still strong.
Maybe, sometime in the future, he'd be strong enough.
For now, he's…content, almost. He is as strong as he needs to be right now.
Eraser thinks so, at least, and Katsuki allows himself to trust his judgment on this.