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“Half an hour until dinner! Keep it up!”
A chorus of groans fills the air. Dozens of teenagers take a moment to sag and breathe before getting back to their gruelling work with varying levels of enthusiasm.
For his part, Katsuki just rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, and gets back to it. Yes, the training is rough and yes, he’s tired beyond reason, but he’s at the top of his game. He feels alive. The exhaustion weighing down his limbs is only a reminder of his hard work and willpower. The pain throbbing through his muscles with every movement is proof of improvement, of torn muscle fibres waiting for rest to grow stronger still.
Slick sweat coats his skin, pools at his chin and falls to the dirt beneath his feet. Katsuki uses his sweaty arm to wipe off his even sweatier face, then submerges his hands into the hot water once more. He has never tried this kind of training before: enhancing the parts of his body that his quirk needs to strengthen it. Over the years, he put countless hours into his training, working until he dropped and forcing himself up once again. He has pulled muscles, broken bones and on a few memorable occasions, concussed himself quite nastily.
Through it all, his drive hasn’t wavered; he is a locomotive set on its path, unceasing in his vehement pursuit of number one. He’s worked his ass off to get where he is today, and he will work even harder to reach the top.
Around him, his classmates are in varied states of exhaustion, the most tenacious of the lot finally beginning to flag. Katsuki is no stranger to working his ass off, so of course he’s one of the few who kept up the pace throughout the day.
Uraraka is pale and shaking, worn down after hours of overworking her quirk. Iida has taken five breaks in the last hour to refuel and massage his calves. The screaming from the cave Tokoyami was in has died down. Kirishima and Tetsutetsu are both covered in cuts and bruises.
And against all odds, in defiance of all the truths ingrained in Katsuki throughout his childhood, Deku is one of the people still going strong. Where so many have slowed significantly, Deku simply wipes off his sweat and keeps pushing as though this is the first hour of training and not the eighth. He is single-minded and ferocious, built up of grit and gravel as he spars against Tiger. Even from the other end of the training area, Katsuki can see the way Deku’s eyes are focused to hard emerald and lips pulled back to bare his teeth.
Despite the exhaustion, each movement Deku makes is measured, not a single drop of energy going to waste. It’s a jarring change from the start of the year, when his moves were so unrefined and clumsy, and he broke his bones on what felt like every second day.
It’s almost infuriating how much progress he’s made. Were Katsuki as irrational as he used to be, he’d blame it on some kind of cheating—but here and now, as he sees the glint in Deku’s eyes and the steadiness of his fighting stance, he knows his skill was honed with blood, sweat and tears.
Deku’s stance wobbles for a moment and Tiger sweeps out his legs, Deku falling hard to the ground. Merciless, Tiger strikes down at him, forcing Deku to twist and roll away. He gets back up on his feet on wobbly legs, panting harshly, and settles back into a seemingly steady ready stance.
He turns his gaze to Tiger, fire burning in his eyes, and all but commands, “Again!”
The hero grins at Deku, and then they’re moving, just blurs of violence and grunts of effort.
Katsuki nearly growls to himself. Deku and that stupid backbone of his. With him, it had once melted, but lately, it seems to be solid steel.
Deku has always climbed up when he got knocked down, but never like this. Never so surely, like he’s just daring the world to try knocking him down again.
Just looking at Deku, annoyance and discomfort and itching familiarity rise in Katsuki.
Why does looking at Deku feel so much like looking at himself?
Katsuki can’t let that damn nerd show him up. He rolls his shoulders once more, pain bursting through him like the harsh beat of his heart, and pulls tingly-numb fingers from the hot water they soak in. With a great cry, he lifts his hands above his head and forces a thunderous explosion into the quiet air.
“Bakugou,” Aizawa calls, in that bored-but-chiding way of his, “this is also an exercise in control. Don’t forget that.”
Katsuki gives him a snarling grin, wiping droplets of sweat from his chin as his palms throb. “That was control, sensei! Don’t doubt me!”
And with that, he sets off another explosion, force more concentrated than the last, and power reverberates through the air.
Aizawa spares a moment to narrow his eyes at Katsuki, before turning away to watch Kirishima and Tetsutetsu beat the snot out of each other.
Katsuki considers the tight, hot stiffness in the skin of his hands, and continues his practice. He dials the power back, though he’d love to keep making the earth quake.
Burning pain flares through his wrist with every explosion he sets off. He’s nearing his limit; if he goes too far now, his training will be hindered for the rest of the camp. He can't afford to do that to himself.
(Deku is a prime example of the difference between perseverance and bull-headedness, after all, and Katsuki will be damned before he stoops to Deku’s level.)
So he tones it down, but does not relent. Stubbornly, with self-discipline honed through years of training, Katsuki keeps it up until the clock hits 5.30 and the pro heroes tell them time’s up.
The announcement is celebrated with a few half-hearted but happy cries, and at least half a dozen students immediately collapse to sit on the ground. Katsuki does neither, only pulls his hands from the water and wonders how long it’ll take for normal feeling to return to the abused appendages. He refuses to let his exhaustion show, especially before so many people who don’t deserve to see his weakness.
Along with everyone else, Katsuki starts walking back to their camp site. Too tired to bother with socialisation, he allows himself to hang back, simply watching as his weary peers cluster together in quiet groups, leaning on one another as everyone shuffles towards the promise of food and rest.
Ahead of him, Todoroki and Iida converse. Well, Iida is the one doing all the talking, but his verbose enthusiasm is enough to carry the conversation for the both of them. Bits of ice cling to Todoroki’s hair, while small droplets fall from red strands. Beside him, wisps of exhaust float up from the engines in Iida’s legs.
A little ways away from Katsuki, Jirou, Asui, Yaoyorozu and Uraraka walk, paired up to help each other back. Uraraka clutches tightly at Asui’s arm, pale-faced and unsteady, but still keeping pace. Yaoyorozu is in much better condition, walking mostly on her own, but must be feeling quite weak with the way she leans into Jirou’s grip around her waist.
And just a little bit ahead of Katsuki, Deku walks, zombie-like, so tired he’s actually silent for once. Like Katsuki, he isn’t showing it blatantly, but Katsuki of all people knows what Deku looks like when he’s drained and trying to hide it.
Suddenly, not quite sure what he’s doing or why he’s doing it, Katsuki catches up to Deku, to walk by his side.
He wants to ask him something, Katsuki decides, when Deku looks over to him curiously.
They keep walking, air stiff with expectation, as Deku waits for a question Katsuki isn’t sure is coming. Katsuki thinks about Deku’s fighting style, the growing power in his lithe form, the burning look of determination he wears that reminds Katsuki so much of himself.
Katsuki’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice Deku stumble until it’s almost too late. Deku wobbles dangerously, buckled knees sending him towards the ground, but Katsuki catches his arm before he falls too far.
Deku’s eyes are wide and wakeful as he whips around to look at Katsuki. “Kacchan! Ah, I’m so sorry!”
Katsuki drops his arm and keeps walking, though more slowly. Deku immediately begins to follow, walking slightly behind him as expected.
“You’re dead on your feet. It’s a fucking miracle you’re still standing.”
Deku smiles, looking down to his bruised knuckles and misshapen fingers. “I can really feel myself improving. It feels great to work this hard. Oh, and you, Kacchan, those explosions you made were so powerful! It’s really amazing that you can keep working so hard for so long!”
That. Isn’t what he expected.
The warm flutters that brush over Katsuki are quickly offset by a cool and sickly pondering; Is he mocking me?
Why else would he take Katsuki’s little jab and return it with such a stupidly earnest-sounding compliment?
He squints his eyes at Deku, but he can’t see any hint of derision or falsehood in his eyes. He hasn’t seen anything like that for so long, and Katsuki’s beginning to wonder if he ever truly did.
Katsuki doesn’t think he truly knows Deku; not anymore, at least. And if he doesn’t know Deku now, did he ever? Has their relationship ever had an ounce of truthfulness or understanding?
(Had Katsuki been mistaken all these years?)
Katsuki grunts in response to Deku, unsure of what the fuck he’s supposed to say but hesitating to ignore him completely. His manners have improved tremendously since starting at U.A.
Katsuki speeds up to leave Deku and these incessant uncertainties behind. But like he’s done for years, Deku doesn’t let him walk away; he matches Katsuki’s pace easily, keeping half a step behind him as they walk in not-quite-uncomfortable silence.
The silence comes to an end when they finally reach their lodgings. Katsuki is going to grab his clothes and shower, and he thinks Deku plans to get straight into cooking.
Deku smiles at him as they part ways, expression stupidly big and bright. “This camp is going to be great for all of us, I’m sure of it!”
Dishes clatter and clink as everyone digs in to their meals. For once, the rowdy group is quiet, the silence of the room broken only by the sounds of eating. But of course, after a few minutes of semi-peaceful face-stuffing, some of the others come back to themselves and remember how loud and annoying they usually are.
(If Kirishima rants one more time today about how manly this training is, he’s gonna find Katsuki’s foot shoved so far up his ass he won’t be able to keep bloody talking.)
Personally, Katsuki is too busy to take part in the slow-growing conversations; he’s much more occupied by the hot food spread out before him. He eats robotically, blinking slow and shrugging off the weight of his exhaustion.
Refuel now, rest later. He chews and chews, dodges a rogue elbow, flips his chopsticks and snatches up the last piece of capsicum tempura before Kaminari can get to it.
Beside him (and just when did he get beside him, Katsuki wonders) Deku is also busy stuffing his face, jumping between rice and fish and tofu and hardly taking a breath between each huge bite. It’s kind of gross, really, but seeing Deku’s hunger only serves to intensify Katsuki’s own voracity. He swallows the tempura and picks up his rice bowl to shovel it down, seeking to outpace Deku’s eating. He refuses to lose here; he’ll eat way more than him and finish up far more quickly, and as he thinks this, he almost chokes.
Katsuki is searching for his drink through watery eyes when a full glass is placed beside him. His eyebrows twitch, but he takes the glass anyways and chugs down great big mouthfuls to clear his esophagus.
Deku isn’t looking at him when he puts the glass down.
No longer at immediate risk of a humiliating and anti-climactic death, Katsuki continues eating, but more slowly; he’ll take this one unspoken loss. (It’s not like Deku knew of his spontaneous, self-imposed competition, anyway, so it doesn’t really count.)
Across the room, Katsuki hears the distinct sound of Sero being smacked, and then his whines about it. He wonders idly what stupid thing Sero could have done to earn the girls’ wrath. Pissed off Jirou, probably.
He laughs to himself, making a mental note to mock Sero over it later.
Deku looks at Katsuki for a moment. When Katsuki is about to snap at him, though, he finally turns away from him, looking flustered.
What a weirdo.
Katsuki eyes the food set out on the table, spots fish to his left and spicy meatballs to Deku’s right. Without bothering to finish his mouthful first, Katsuki reaches over to grab the dish of fish, then nudges Deku and nods towards the meatballs. Wordlessly, they swap the dishes, placing them in the vacated spots and helping themselves to their preferred foods.
Deku sends him a bright smile, lips closed around his full mouth, which Katsuki ignores.
He looks firmly away and spots the very last pork cutlet lying on its dish before him, crisp and oh-so tempting.
Katsuki reaches for the cutlet. Deku’s elbow bumps his and they look at each other at the same time. Katsuki glances between his target and Deku, and Deku does the same. The fucker always did like pork. Though the bump was no more Deku’s fault than it was his, and he certainly has as much of a right to the food as Katsuki does, he still jabs a retaliatory elbow into Deku’s side.
Deku pulls away from him with a frown. Smiling in satisfaction, Katsuki reaches for his food again when Deku’s shoulder knocks violently into his own, causing Katsuki to bump his glass and spill water all over the table.
That wipes the smile from his face.
Katsuki is sure to put his weight behind the blow he deals in return.
Then their arms are colliding once more, Deku pressing him back with his forearm, looking at him in challenge. It devolves quickly into a strange, one-armed wrestling match, with a lot of elbow jabs and bumping shoulders and slight grunts of pain.
“It’s mine,” Katsuki says, pushing Deku’s face away with his hand, “I was reaching for it first!”
Deku twists his head and knocks the offending hand away. “You can’t just claim all the food you want! It’s- ow,” Deku grunts when Katsuki catches him under the ribs. “It’s no one’s until it’s on a plate!” He struggles as Katsuki attempts to pin his arms together. “Damn it, Kacchan-”
“You don’t even need it, there’s plenty of other things you like.”
Deku braces his feet on the ground and starts to push Katsuki off the bench with his body. “And there’s plenty you like, so just this once, I’d like to get something that I want.”
“Fuck,” Katsuki grunts, “you!” He’s losing ground, and fast. The tenacious little nerd is strong.
“Uh, guys?” a voice breaks them from their fierce battle.
Deku’s pushing stops abruptly, causing Katsuki to overbalance and almost fall into Deku’s lap. He catches himself with a hand on Deku’s thigh before realising he’s touching Deku’s thigh and jerking away. He doesn’t fall from the bench, but it’s a very near thing.
Once he’s recovered, he looks to his newest enemy and current number two on his ‘to-murder’ list: Uraraka, the battle-interrupting snake.
“What?” he snaps.
“The cutlet’s gone.”
“Someone just took the cutlet while you were fighting over it,” Asui adds oh-so-helpfully.
“Aw,” Deku says, but Katsuki hasn’t lost hope.
He looks around the table, scrutinising everyone’s plates. There’s no sign of the cutlet anywhere. “Who took it? That was mine, damn it!”
No one pipes up even after Katsuki glares viciously at all of them, so he takes the loss and directs his glare at Deku.
Deku has the nerve to look sheepish as he deposits his olive branch, a spicy meatball, onto Katsuki’s plate. “I’m sorry. I guess I can’t help but get competitive when it comes to you.”
The shit that comes out of this guy’s mouth, Katsuki swears to god-
“You’re a devious little shit, Deku, and I can’t believe everyone’s blind to it.”
Deku laughs lightly. “I promise, I didn’t exactly plan to fight with you over a cutlet.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.”
Deku puts his hands up innocently, but laughs a little more.
Katsuki hates how nice it sounds.
The activity they’re doing is apparently practice for reconnaissance and spy work. The students are split into two groups: guards and spies. Spies have to hide, with the goal of getting from point A to point B without getting caught by a guard.
So basically, they’re all playing an over-glorified game of hide and seek.
Stupid exercise or not, Katsuki’s been killing it. Naturally.
The round is winding down now, with many of the spies already found or within their safe zone. As a guard, Katsuki has been prowling through the forest, catching out sloppy extras and scaring them out of their hiding places. Catching Uraraka, Todoroki and Hagakure had been especially pleasing, but he has one more person he’s determined to find.
Deku. He’s on the spies’ team. There’s no way to know for certain, but Katsuki doubts the stubborn idiot has gotten himself caught yet. He’s not in the safe zone, though, so Katsuki is sure that he’s still out there somewhere. If Deku is out there, Katsuki will be the one to find him.
Growing up, hide and seek was the one game Deku had been good at. Katsuki would love nothing more than to steal that title from him now.
There’s only one place Deku would be in this kind of terrain. Katsuki heads to the rocky area he’d spotted before, just a little out from the safe zone.
If Katsuki knows Deku (and he certainly does), he’s somewhere just out of sight, waiting for his moment to make a break for the safe point. Katsuki approaches the rocky outcropping and spies a small alcove low to the ground.
There’s a subtle trail of displaced dirt and broken shrubbery leading to the alcove. Gotcha, Katsuki thinks, slowing as he approaches.
Crack.
Katsuki almost bites through his tongue with the effort it takes not to swear. Damn it! How’d he miss that fucking stick?
He stills, listening carefully for any indication of movement, but there’s nothing. If Deku heard him, he’s not running yet. And as long as Katsuki doesn’t actually see Deku, the little bastard hasn’t lost. He takes a few more steps, more careful now, muscles coiled and ready to pounce. The alcove is just in front of him.
There’s a sudden rustle, and the air is full of dirt and dust and leaves, and his eyes burn.
More rustling, footsteps a few metres away-
Eyes watering and half-closed, Katsuki trusts his instinct and jumps. His target falls in a heap beneath Katsuki and he pins them, allowing ample time for him to clean his eyes and glare down at the other. Deku looks up at Katsuki with wide eyes, covered in dirt and hair full of twigs.
“You lose, you conniving little shit.”
“Ugh, damn it!” Deku squirms. “I thought for sure no one would find me in time. Of course it’d be you who found me, Kacchan,” Deku says, speaking with an almost impressive combination of frustration and admiration.
Katsuki sits back and releases Deku’s arms to rub at his eyes. He glares down at his opponent in silence. The annoyance falls off Deku’s face in an instant. “Ah, did I get your eyes? I’m so sorry, I guess I must’ve misjudged the distance.”
“No shit.” Part of Katsuki doesn’t want to get off Deku. But that’s a stupid part of him he shouldn’t listen to, and he’s annoyed that he hadn’t anticipated Deku’s back-up plan. He got too cocky. Deku always has a back-up plan.
If Deku had reacted any faster, Katsuki would be eating his dust right now.
Katsuki stands and watches Deku pick himself back up and dust off his clothes. There’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek, and he doesn’t seem to notice the twigs still lodged in his hair.
“I won’t lose next time,” Deku says. The steel of his spine is betrayed by the waver in his voice, but Katsuki’s just impressed he had the balls to say that in the first place.
Katsuki raises an eyebrow at Deku, and Deku looks away from him, flushing.
“That’s what I thought,” Katsuki says, and sends him a smirk. “Obviously I’m gonna beat your ass in every round.”
Deku follows Katsuki at his side, just half a step behind him. He takes a moment to consider Katsuki’s statement before responding, “We’ll probably end up on the same team in one of the rounds, though?”
“Then I’ll just do way better than you, obviously.”
“Ah, yes. Obviously.”
Speaking of winning, the game is still ongoing. Katsuki has more pressing matters to attend to, like kicking ass. Why is Deku still here? Is he trying to make fun of Katsuki or something?
Katsuki sighs. How does he say this without making Deku cry… “Can you scram? Just ‘cause you lost, doesn’t mean I’m letting you take me down with you.” Ah, perfect execution. Gentle as always, Katsuki.
“Hm?” Deku sounds confused, pace faltering for a moment before understanding dawns. “Oh! Right. Sorry, I got caught up thinking.” And then Deku smiles at him, this big, bright thing that shows off his teeth and his squishy dimples, and Katsuki is struck by how open and genuine it is. “I’ll get out of your hair. Good luck, Kacchan! Not that you need it, of course.”
Katsuki grunts in response. Deku waves and walks away, leaving Katsuki to stand frozen in the middle of the forest, mind abuzz with strange new questions and doubts.
Pixie Bob stands before the group, face serious as she seems to survey the students gathered before her. “As you all know,” she begins, authoritatively, “this camp’s purpose is to hone your quirks and hero skills. We’re pushing your quirks to the brink so they grow stronger, more dependable. But the strength of a quirk means nothing if it isn’t used effectively. So for the first training activity today, you’ll all be participating in a sparring session,” she smiles, “with a twist.”
Katsuki grins. He likes the sound of that. He’s exhausted and aching, but every new activity is a new opportunity for growth, so he’ll give his all and worry about his body’s complaints later.
“The rules are simple.” Mandalay steps forward. “Quirk use is allowed, following the same sparring rules we’ve been using: no attacks with the intent to injure, tapping out in the event of injury, and so on. This activity is a free-for-all, and the objective of the game is to tag your opponents in order to get them out. The last student standing wins. The only catch is, you can only tag someone out if you tag their knee. Any questions?”
Katsuki cracks his knuckles. A quirk-enabled free-for-all? This should be pretty interesting. He can already predict who’ll last the longest; Iida will be hard to catch with his speed, Hagakure will be tough with her stealth and lack of visible appendages, Todoroki will be able to protect himself through sheer firepower alone. Katsuki shudders to think how he’ll tag Yaoyorozu if she creates herself knee guards. Even Monoma, the slippery bastard, will go far if he uses his quirk right.
But that makes them obvious targets, priorities to tag out before they have to be faced one-on-one. With enough time, the group’s size will be more than enough to bring them down. They’ll all take each other out. If Katsuki just sticks out the first onslaught, he’ll win this game easily.
The only one Katsuki ought to contemplate is Deku. He’s a driven, competitive little shit, and having copied Katsuki’s own dynamic fighting style, he’ll be able to flit through the masses like they’re nothing, taking unsuspecting extras out as he goes. As much as Katsuki hates to think it, Deku might be the only one with the speed and dexterity to get through his defences.
Katsuki scans his surroundings as everyone spreads out. Like hell will Katsuki let Deku beat him.
Once everyone is ready, Mandalay signals the beginning of the game. The tense quiet of the training ground erupts into chaos and violence, friend targeting friend, quirks unleashed without hesitation.
Katsuki jumps into the fray. It becomes clear that many people are targeting him, attempting to outnumber him in order to take him down. Katsuki blows them all away. He dodges and flies and generally shows off as he picks off opponents, growing more vicious as the herd thins.
He eyes Deku as he formulates his plan. For now, Deku is occupied with the five idiots who are chasing him around like stubborn ducklings. He isn’t a threat yet. It'll be harder to take Deku out if they get down to one-on-one, but that is exactly why they won’t target one another just yet.
Once most of the extras are out of the way, he turns his sights on Iida, who is still unscathed.
Iida is quick, but lacks foresight. Katsuki manages to herd him between two converging masses of students, where the ground is covered in mushrooms (and shit, whose quirk is that?). The instant they’re surrounded by the disorder, Katsuki lunges for Iida and taps his knee as the cramped space makes him falter.
“Bakugou, you-!” Iida, for once, seems at a loss for words.
Katsuki grins at his felled classmate. “Better try harder next time, four eyes!”
Who’s next?
Hagakure is running around on the other side of the clearing, outline visible thanks to the odd mixture of dirt, mushrooms and slime that covers her. It takes some time for him to spot Todoroki, who is sitting out with all the other losers, Yaoyorozu by his side. Disappointing.
Tagging Hagakure will be embarrassingly easy with her so—
A blur of movement is the warning he gets before Asui strikes at his knees. Their fight is brief but intense, with too many close-calls for Katsuki’s comfort, but he managed to tag her in the end.
Finally, huffing and sweaty, Katsuki turns around and finds Deku is the only one left.
Deku smiles at him with dirt on his knees and a bruise darkening on his jaw. “Come and get me, Kacchan!”
And of course- of course Deku made it here, lasted this long, just to face off against Katsuki. He bares his teeth in a smile.
“You’re dead, nerd!” Katsuki screams, not quite murderous as he blasts towards his old friend.
Deku meets him head on.
For all that Deku seems to look down on him, he and Katsuki have been in a constant push and pull against one another all year. Deku has his stupid, borrowed quirk and he has All Might’s favour but still, he looks at Katsuki like he sees him.
(It really seems like Deku holds genuine respect for him, despite everything.)
They fight like it’s a dance, a synchronous back and forth of attacks, blocks, dodges. Deku slides away from every one of Katsuki’s lunges, and Katsuki blocks and blows away every one of Deku’s.
They go on like that until Katsuki’s lungs beg for oxygen and his every muscle burns, until Deku makes a mistake that Katsuki can use.
Deku loses his footing after one of his explosions, his stance shifting lower to the ground, and Katsuki takes his chance. His first attempted tag misses just slightly, but it throws off Deku’s balance. He doesn’t react in time to avoid Katsuki’s tackle.
Deku lands heavily on the ground with a winded little “Oof,” and Katsuki slaps his knee with glee.
“Gotcha,” Katsuki pants.
“Guess you win again, Kacchan.” Deku sags in defeat, equally worn out beneath him, and suddenly Katsuki wants to laugh. It’s always, always Deku, isn’t it?
He’s so warm beneath Katsuki.
Katsuki stands and wonders what would happen if he offered Deku a hand. Instead, he watches once more as Deku picks himself up and looks at him with eyes that vow, “Next time, I’ll win.”
Katsuki can’t reach out to him yet.
He doesn’t understand Deku yet.
But one day, he will.