Chapter Text
Katsuki Bakugou didn’t know how to feel when he got his acceptance letter from UA.
It felt surreal, as he read the words that would steer the direction of the rest of his life. He didn’t know why he was so shocked. Getting into this school was something he swore would happen ever since he was a child. He could feel the disbelief filling his chest, making him feel strangely light, and his hands trembled with uncertain excitement.
This is it. This is what we’ve been dreaming of .
Something cold washed over him. His fingers felt numb as he read the words, over and over, in his mind. Only his mom broke him out of his stupor when she wrapped an arm tightly around him, giving him a suffocating hug that felt more like a chokehold.
“You’d better make us proud, brat!” Mitsuki exclaimed, grinding her knuckles into his hair despite his snarling protests. His father only smiled at them, giving him an approving thumbs up from where he sat on the couch.
By the time he wrestled himself free from her grasp, he swore enough times to put a sailor to shame. He glared at her all the way to his room, where he slammed the door shut out of spite.
As he sealed himself into the isolation of his room, he let out an annoyed scoff. He collapsed into the chair at his desk and gripped the letter tightly in his hands, eyes trained on the words once again.
Three shadows hung back behind him, watching the display with mixed reactions.
The smallest one appeared next to Katsuki and gazed up at him with gleaming green eyes, his tiny fists clasped together in front of him with excitement. Katsuki’s grip on the letter loosened ever so slightly at the sight.
“Kacchan, Kacchan! We get to become heroes together, just like we wanted to!” Izuku beamed, and the sight of his wide, eager smile sent an aching stab of nostalgia through Katsuki’s heart, “Isn't it exciting?”
Before he could think to respond, Midoriya appeared in his peripherals, gazing anxiously down at the letter. The boy wore their old middle school uniform, always creased and dusted with dirt. He raised his fingers to his mouth to chew relentlessly at his nails, looking lost in his worried thoughts.
Katsuki regarded him with an irritated look but said nothing in his silence. The creep could lurk if he wanted to, it’s not like Katsuki had a say in it anyway.
The tallest of the three remained behind them, keeping his distance. His face wasn’t visible, hidden by shadows that weren’t there, yet the locks of green hair were unmistakable.
Katsuki knew what was coming, but he wasn’t ready to hear it. He never was. Still, he braced himself, leaning back in his chair with a scowl.
“Who are you to believe you’ve earned this?” Deku’s voice sent a sobering chill through Katsuki as he said exactly what he didn’t want to think, “Living off of a stolen dream. Shame on you.”
Izuku’s cheeks puffed out in annoyance, and he waved a hand in dismissal, “Don’t listen to him, Kacchan. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. We’re going to have so much fun together at UA!”
He knew the words were intended to soften the blow, but the innocence behind them only succeeded in making him feel worse. He couldn’t bring himself to share the youngest boy’s excitement. The guilt gnawed at him more than ever as gentle green eyes met red, and he tore his eyes away as if he’d been staring at the sun.
Katsuki threw the letter to the side, feeling nauseous.
* * * * * *
Of course, Midoriya would be the one following him today, on his first day at UA. He’d barely made it halfway to the bus stop before he noticed the boy trailing behind him, his feet scuffing against the sidewalk.
It almost felt like they were both back in their first years of middle school, walking to school in the early morning. The thought dredged up an amalgamation of emotions that Katsuki wasn’t ready to face, so he shoved it back down until only irritation remained.
It didn’t help that it was impossible to block out the non-stop stream of hushed words that fell from Midoriya’s lips.
“Oi shithead, stop muttering , will you? It’s making me fuckin anxious,” Katsuki snarled over his shoulder, voice dangerously low. He watched as a flash of panic fell over Midoriya’s face, body going rigid. His jaw snapped together with an audible click , and his wide eyes grew glassy before he dropped his gaze to the ground below.
Katsuki might have felt bad, but frankly he was too annoyed to care. It was way too early to be hearing Midoriya’s muttering nonsense. Katsuki narrowed his eyes at the pathetic sight, then turned back around with a scoff.
He picked up speed, trying to create some distance between the two of them, but every time he glanced over his shoulder, the relentless creep was at the same exact distance.
He gave up, facing forward and instead shooting up a middle finger in Midoriya’s direction, uncaring of whether he saw it or not. He had a feeling he did, anyway.
By the time they got on the bus and made it to the gates of UA, Midoriya was back to muttering again, seemingly having forgotten Katsuki snapping at him.
There were other students around now, so to avoid looking like the weirdo himself, he shoved his hands into his pockets and ignored the ghost behind him.
The closer they approached the school, the closer the feeling of Midoriya's presence was as he wandered behind him. Katsuki bristled at the lack of proximity, and risked a glare over his shoulder.
Midoriya chewed at his bottom lip, oblivious to Katsuki, and stared wide-eyed up at the school building. His jaw twitched up and down as mostly incoherent words fell from his mouth.
“…what if they… there’s no…. we shouldn’t…”
Segments of the hushed words drifted by Katsuki’s ear, and the boy’s anxiety almost seemed to transfer between the two and dig its claws straight into Katsuki’s chest. The moment the anxiety began to morph into the inklings of panic, he decided he couldn’t take it anymore and dug his heels into the ground.
Midoriya yelped in surprise at the sudden stop, stumbling to the side and narrowly avoiding Katsuki as if he were the plague. A few passing students gave him an odd look, and he glared back at them until they awkwardly averted their eyes.
Mind your own fucking business , he wanted to snap, feeling a little overwhelmed.
He didn’t even bother looking at Midoriya, instead swerving off to the side and stomping into the shadows. The boy followed him abashedly, his uneasy gaze never leaving UA’s looming structure.
Originally, Katsuki went to the shadows to catch his breath. To calm down out of sight, away from prying eyes. And maybe yell at Midoriya a little, but that wasn’t important.
Of course he wouldn’t get that chance, because someone seemed to be waiting for him the moment he slipped away from the other students.
“You don’t belong here, Bakugou,” Deku stated coldly, as if it were a fact. His voice seemed to drip with venom as he growled, “You are no hero .”
“Tch,” Katsuki immediately turned back around, deciding he wasn’t in the mood for Deku’s remarks, no matter how much truth rang in his words, “Fuck off.”
“Yeah, fuck off!” Izuku's cheery voice echoed, making Katsuki freeze in place. The swear felt deeply wrong coming from the kid’s mouth. He clenched his fists as Izuku continued in his defense, “Kacchan is our best friend! We’re going to become heroes together just like we’ve always wanted to!”
“He’s weak .” Deku spat, uncaring, and Katsuki could feel his obscured eyes glaring into the back of his head, “He’ll never become a hero. The only thing he’s good for is becoming a villain. He may as well already be one.”
“Shut the fuck up, all of you!” Katsuki snarled, swirling around. Izuku was pouting angrily at Deku, who stood menacingly in the shadows and practically radiated hatred. Midoriya paused in his distracted ramblings to eye Katsuki with wide eyes. His glare slid between the three of them and landed on Deku, “You are all so goddamn annoying . Fucking leave me alone!”
Izuku appeared beside him with a smile, placing a gentle hand over his closed fist. He gazed up at Katsuki, eyes gleaming with the admiration he never deserved, “It’s okay, Kacchan. I think you’re strong. And if sometimes even you don’t, I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”
Disgust churned deep in his gut, but not at the boy before him. Katsuki’s face twisted into a grimace and he snatched his hand away from the child, shoving it into his pocket, “I don’t fucking care,” He growled, and he hated the way Izuku looked up at him with easy understanding, “I don’t need any of you! Its not like I asked you to be fucking following me everywhere I goddamn go, so leave me alone !” He seethed, the words hissing out through clenched teeth.
To his irritation, Deku radiated smugness at his reaction, as if Katsuki only further proved his point. He scoffed, turning up his chin, and began to make his way back towards UA. His only words of departure were an angrily muttered, “I’m going to be late to class.”
The three hung back, remaining in the shadows.
As he arrived at Class 1-A, his anger was still simmering just below explosive. Literally. He bitterly wiped the sweat from his palms, and slid open the classroom door much harder than he intended.
It slammed open with a loud thud, and all eyes turned to him. He took a moment to scan his classmates with narrowed eyes, and recognized a few of them from the entrance exam.
“The hell you assholes gawking at?” Katsuki snarled, and slammed the door shut behind him. Most of them looked away at that, slowly falling back into easy chatter, but a few of them regarded him with wary eyes.
He scowled and made his way to an empty desk, in front of a purple haired freak whose dark eyebags could rival Midoriya’s. Somehow this kid managed to look more like a walking zombie than a student. A student who was, for some reason, one of the few who had the audacity to continue staring at him.
“Tch,” Katsuki sneered at him, roughly pulling out his chair and tossing his bag on the ground next to him, “Got a fuckin problem, eyebags?”
The boy raised a brow at his words before he looked away, unimpressed.
“That’s what I thought, fuckin’ creep,” Katsuki scoffed, sitting down and nonchalantly propping his legs up on his desk. He crossed his arms and glared across the room at nothing.
It didn’t take long for him to notice Deku standing off in a corner, just watching. Observing. Katsuki pointedly ignored him, turning his chin up and looking off to the side.
After a moment, a shadow fell over Katsuki and for a moment, he wondered if Deku had wandered closer in a rare moment of boldness. Normally he preferred to keep his distance. He turned his head, prepared to glare at him, and stopped short.
Stood in front of him was a tall boy with dark, blue-tinted hair, glasses glinting as he stared down at him with an expectant look. His body was stiff, shoulders firmly in place, and he looked nervous to have approached him.
Katsuki glared up at him, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, he drawled, “Well?”
He didn’t think it was possible for the dude to be more tense than he already was, so he was almost impressed when his joints locked further into place.
“Don’t put your feet up on the desk.” He forced the words out and pushed his glasses up with a frown.
“Hah?” Katsuki glowered at him, hunching his shoulders. Of course someone would try and order him around when he was already in a bad mood, “What’s it to you?”
“Don’t you think that’s rude to the UA upperclassmen and the people who made the desk?” The boy waved his hand up and down in a strange chopping motion, and Katsuki couldn’t help but aim at him a scathing glare.
“Nope,” he growled, and he ignored the way Deku’s gaze burned into him. A mocking smirk instinctively crawled across his face, “What junior high did you go to, side character?”
“S-side character?” He looked like he didn’t know whether to be shocked or offended. His frown deepened, then he raised a hand to his chest, “I attended Somei Private Academy. My name is Tenya Iida.”
Katsuki leaned forward, tilting his head, “Somei? So you’re a damn elite, huh? Looks like I’ll have fun crushing you.”
Iida recoiled as if he’d been burned. “ Crushing ?” He echoed incredulously, glasses glinting from the ceiling lights, “That’s cruel! Do you truly aim to be a hero?!”
Katsuki froze. His gaze automatically wandered back to Deku, who only stared back. Katsuki might not have been able to see his face, but he knew he was smirking. He swore he could almost hear him saying I told you so .
“Tch.” He scoffed, focusing his eyes on his untied shoes, the laces hanging limply to the sides.
“Are you going to put your feet down?” Iida asked again, rather impatiently.
“Hell no,” He snarled, crossing his arms with a stubborn huff, “I could do this all day, asshole.”
Iida glared at him and opened his mouth, probably to scold him some more, but someone else beat him to it.
“Hey.” Purple-hair’s voice came from behind them, sounding more than bored, “Bakugou, was it?”
Katsuki tilted his head back to see him leaning his chin on his palm, head cocked to the side. Just the look on his face made him want to blow it up.
“Hah? The hell you want, shithead? Got something you wanna say?” Katsuki sneered, hands feeling dangerously warm as he glared into the boy’s eyes. He returned the look, face remaining apathetic, but then his lips quirked upwards into the ghost of a smirk. Katsuki might have almost missed it.
Then, without warning, his face went slack as a light, dizzying pressure washed over him. It felt like his mind had been pushed away from the wheel, head fuzzy and plunging into fog. He almost didn’t realize when his body began to move on its own.
Slowly, his legs gently lowered from the desk until his feet pressed flat against the floor. His hands moved together, clasping respectfully in front of him. It felt like he was a puppet, limbs being pulled into place by invisible strings. His mind screamed at him to take back control, and he tried to resist, tried to move, but his body remained heavy and out of reach. He hated it. He didn’t know what was going on, and his mind wasn’t even clear enough to be able to figure it out. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he stared blankly at Iida.
Iida glanced between the two of them with suspicious, narrowed eyes. His eyes landed back on Bakugou before nodding slowly, satisfied, “…Thank you.”
And suddenly, clarity washed over him, replacing the fog as if it had never been there at all. Katsuki blinked. He was back in control.
Fuming, he slammed his palms against the desk, chair skidding backwards as he stood, “What the hell? I didn’t-“
He cut himself off when he noticed every eye was on him again, but this time they weren’t looking at him out of curiosity. Deku was watching like he knew exactly what was going to happen, as if he were waiting for the fuse to blow. There was a mixture of reactions from his classmates, but the majority of them looked... concerned. Iida was the only one looking mildly offended at his outburst.
“The hell you looking at, hah?” He snapped at them, feeling uncomfortably hot. The room was silent, save for a soft, amused exhale from behind him. His head twisted towards the sound, at the purple-haired boy. Katsuki jabbed a finger at him, snarling, “It was you, wasn’t it? What the hell did you do to me?”
Eyebags innocently raised his hands, feigning confusion, “What are you talking about?” Yet, the ends of his lips quirked upwards in a subtle smirk.
Katsuki slammed his hand on his desk and grabbed the collar of Purple-hair’s uniform. He dragged him from his seat, sneering, “You think I’m an idiot? I know you did something, asshole.”
“It’s Hitoshi, not ‘asshole’. Hitoshi Shinso,” he drawled, thoroughly unimpressed. He seemed to think for a moment, then, with a smirk, he murmured, “ Asshole .”
Katsuki snared his teeth, palms crackling dangerously.
“W-woah, calm down, you two!” Iida piped up from beside them, hands outstretched, “It’s almost time for class to start! You don’t want the teacher to-“
As if on cue, the classroom door slid open, slamming to the side. Katsuki jolted, releasing Hitoshi, who fell back into his chair. The whole class seemed to collectively let out a breath of relief.
“I hope I wasn’t interrupting something,” A voice droned, and Katsuki turned around with a scoff, dusting his hands off on his shirt. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see, but he definitely wasn’t expecting the dark, dead eyes of a man tightly enveloped in a bright yellow sleeping bag. Only his face was visible, long dark hair falling over his eyes, and just by his eyebags alone, Katsuki might have assumed he and Hitoshi were related.
The contrast of the man and the sleeping bag was startling enough that the sight of him caught Katsuki off guard, and all the anger seemed to leave him in one fleeting second. Katsuki stared at him, somehow managing to mask his bewilderment with a glare.
Something tugged gently at his sleeve, and he resisted the urge to look down, “Kacchan,” Izuku whispered, voice filled with awe, “Kacchan, those goggles! That-That’s Eraserhead! A pro hero! Do you think he’s our teacher? Oh man, I really really hope so!”
Eraserhead, also known as Shouta Aizawa. Katsuki didn’t need Izuku’s input to know who he was--Aizawa was the number nine hero after all, and it wasn’t like Izuku was the only one keeping up with those sorts of things. (Even if researching and talking about heroes was all Izuku loved to do.)
Aizawa raised an eyebrow at Katsuki’s silence, an unimpressed look on his face. When it was clear Katsuki wasn’t going to say anything, he turned to face the rest of the class, “Everybody take your seat and we’ll get started.”
As everyone hurried to sit properly in their seats, Katsuki sunk back into his chair, shoulders hunched. He could feel Hitoshi’s eyes burning into the back of his head, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. All he could focus on was Deku. Deku, who radiated hatred from his dark corner, and the feeling seemed to slowly crawl across the room and latch its fangs onto Katsuki like a snake.
Go away , Katsuki snarled in his mind. He glared daggers at Deku, hoping he would take the hint for once, Leave me alone, go the fuck away.
Despite his efforts, Deku’s hatred continued to sink deeper and deeper, slowly seeping into his bones.
God, he hated this. He hated Deku. He hated Hitoshi, and Iida, and Midoriya and Izuku for not leaving him alone. He hated himself and his impulsive actions and harsh words. He hated how he could never say or do the right things. He hated his temper, and his lack of heroism.
He hated how he could pass off as a better villain than a hero.
A hero . Why did he want to be a hero, again?
“You want to be the best.” Deku whispered, his voice traveling across the room to him as if he were right beside him. Katsuki knew Aizawa was talking, but his words seemed to be drowned out into the background as Deku spoke, “You want to be the greatest hero there is. But how can you possibly do that when you’re the lowest of the low?”
Katsuki blinked, almost sluggishly. Deku said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He wanted to deny it, but the words felt true, and he hated it. He hated it, he hated it, he hated it .
There was no way he could be a hero like this. Was there?
“Bakugou,” Aizawa’s voice snapped Katsuki out of his thoughts, and he looked up to find him standing in front of him. He’d ditched the yellow sleeping bag at his desk, and was now crossing his arms as he stared down at Katsuki, “Did you hear a thing I said?”
Katsuki’s eyes flicked back towards Deku, but he was gone. In fact, everyone was gone, Katsuki realized. All the desks were empty, and he could feel the inklings of Midoriya’s panic blossom in his chest. It was just Aizawa and him.
“I… uh--I didn’t m-- know th--” He cut himself off, frustrated at his lack of words and feeling discombobulated. How long had he been sitting there? How long had he been completely wrapped up in Deku’s hatred?
If Aizawa noticed something was off, he didn’t say. He dropped something that looked like a dark blue uniform onto Katsuki’s desk, and headed towards the classroom door, “Get dressed and meet us outside. Try not to be too late.”
The door shut, and he was alone. Katsuki blinked, feeling oddly hollow. He took the uniform in his hands and slowly rose to his feet, following after Aizawa without another thought.
He noticed, distantly, the lack of ghosts around.