Chapter Text
Scars.
Traces left forever on the skin, evidence of ancient wounds.
Each person has a different way of dealing with them. Some hide them as something shameful, proof that they’ve been hurt, weak. Others show them with pride, because they’re proof that they’ve survived.
For heroes, scars were inevitable, even if not all were so visible. But no one could remain indifferent to the sight of these marks.
For Izuku Midoriya, a student in class 1-A at UA, scars were always a source of curiosity and admiration. Whenever he saw one, he always wondered what the wearer had gone through to get it. Had they been scratched by their cat? Or had they survived a car accident? He didn’t know, and that fascinated him.
But what fascinated him even more was when he knew why a scar was there, because behind every scar there’s a story.
Behind the scar on All Might’s side is his sacrifice in his fight against All For One to keep them all safe.
Behind the scar under Aizawa-Sensei’s right eye lies his heroism and fighting spirit, which saved their lives at USJ.
Behind the scars on his own arms and hands are all the efforts he had to make to master the quirk that is now his.
“While we all have scars, yours are impressive Midobro!” Kaminari exclaimed, observing his comrade’s right hand, full of scars.
“Ah, you think so?” Said the green one simply.
“Totally! Your arms are covered in impressive scars, showing all you’ve been through, it’s super manly!” Kirishima rejoined.
“It’s true that the only scars I have are far less heroic than yours, Deku-kun.” Uraraka said, looking a little pensive.
“Don’t say that Uraraka, I’m sure your scars are interesting too.” Midoriya argued.
From that moment on, all the students in 1-A began to share the stories behind their various scars. And between all twenty of them, they have a very large range of scars, from Momo who had been bitten by a dog when she was little, to Shoto who had been scalded by his mother because of his father’s abuse, not forgetting Ojiro who had fallen while skateboarding when he was younger and Iida who ran into a wall.
Stories flew in all directions, with everyone laughing more or less, depending on the seriousness of the situation.
But even though the atmosphere was friendly, Midoriya soon noticed that one of his comrades was absent. Or rather, he quickly noticed than one of his comrades had left in the middle of the discussion. Indeed, taking advantage of the fact that all attention was on Jirou as she recounted how she had cut her arm open by falling off the stage, Bakugo had slipped away quite discreetly. Quietly enough for no one but Midoriya to notice, anyway.
And if others noticed his absence, no one made any remarks. Indeed, it wasn’t unusual for Bakugo not to participate too much in this kind of loud-talking, laughter-filled moment. Because even if he had improved, he was still himself.
But Izuku knew why his childhood friend had left, and he didn’t like it. His eyebrows were furrowed, pondering this, when he was snapped out of his thoughts by Tsuyu.
“Everything okay Midoriya, kerro?”
“Ah, yeah, yes, everything’s fine Tsuyu. I just remembered I forgot something in my room, I’ll be right back.” The green teen quickly apologized before getting up and heading for the stairs.
He climbed them two by two and soon reached his floor. Wasting no time, he headed for his room to fetch a special kit, before emerging and heading for his childhood friend’s room.
Once outside the explosive’s bedroom door, he hesitated for a moment. It was true that Bakugo had really calmed down recently and that their relationship had greatly improved, but he wasn’t entirely sure how the blond would react.
But he wasn’t one to give up and let a friend suffer alone. So he gathered his courage and knocked twice on the door.
The only response he got was an indistinct grunt.
“Kacchan? Can I come in?” He asked.
Another grunt before a clearer answer is given. “It’s open.”
Midoriya turned the handle and entered his friend’s room, closing the door behind him. Bakugo was stretched out on his bed, his arms crossed behind his head, which he hadn’t even bothered to raise when the green entered. And although this movement, or rather absence of movement, might seem trivial, Izuku knew it was a rather incredible show of trust.
“What do you want?” Bakugo asked, still not moving.
Midoriya took a deep breath before beginning his explanation. “I know you left because you don’t like it when people talk about scars.”
“Where’d that come from, nerd?” The blond’s voice was devoid of almost any trace of animosity, and while some might find it merely kind of him, for Izuku it was proof that the blond was even worse off than he let on.
“Because of your quirk, your skin heals too well for you to have scars.”
“I shouldn’t even be surprised you know that.” Muttered the blond.
“And I also know that you don’t like it, because you feel that nobody realizes what you’ve been through to get here, simply because your skin doesn’t bear the evidence.”
A silence, not entirely pleasant but not uncomfortable, then settle over the room, before Bakugo sighed and half-straightened, looking the green teen in the eye.
“What do you want, Deku?” He repeated.
Midoriya didn’t answer right away, fiddling with the fastener of the case in his hands. “Do you trust me?” He asked, rather than answering clearly.
Bakugo held Midoriya’s gaze before sighing. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this, and if you repeat it to anyone I’ll blow you away, but you know I do.” He sighed.
Izuku couldn’t help but smile at this and trotted over from the blond’s bed, sitting down next to him and setting his kit down beside him. “Give me your right arm.” He then asked.
Although still puzzled, Bakugo held out his right arm to the green-haired teenager. Midoriya then opened his case and took out several products. It was then that Bakugo realized it was make-up.
“The hell are you doing?”
Izuku didn’t answer immediately, but began to draw small lines under the blond’s elbow.
“Your scars can’t be seen, so I’m going to draw them, so that everyone can see them.”
Bakugo didn’t answer right away and Izuku could almost imagine the red eyes widening, not having expected this.
“Tch.” The blond man simply mumbled, turning his head away.
Izuku didn’t react and continued to paint the scars on his friend’s skin. And Bakugo had to admit he was impressed. Of course, he knew the location of all the scars he should have had, but he was surprised that the green teen knew them so well. Because once Midoriya had finished with his elbow, he immediately attacked his shoulder, without any hesitation, applying the make-up exactly were it had been opened during his fight against Nine and his gang.
Midoriya worked for a good while in silence, under Katsuki’s watchful eye.
“How come you know how to do that so well?” He asked once Izuku had managed to make what looked exactly like a burn on his right calf, a memory of a scooter test ride when he was 14.
Midoriya simply shrugged without really answering. If he knew how to draw scars so well, it was because he’d had to disguise his own to hide them in middle school, but he didn’t want to talk about that with Bakugo. Not because he still held a grudge, but because he knew that the blond hadn’t forgiven himself for his actions. And he really didn’t feel like talking about it right now, so he didn’t answer, knowing the blond wouldn’t push.
And indeed, Katsuki didn’t insist, concentrating instead on the scars Midoriya was slowly revealing on his skin. And with each finished make-up, he felt better. As if, at least, all his pain and trials were out in the open and his suffering was legitimate. As if he were at last completely himself.
Not all scars evoked the same reactions. The one on his finger when he’d cut himself learning to cook was easier to look at than the hand-shaped burn on the back of his neck, but they were all part of him, and Midoriya didn’t want to leave any of them out. Not even the ones on his face.
And if Katsuki said nothing when Izuku created the souvenir scar from a corner of the wall he’d seen a little too closely, he tensed even more when the green teen approached the bridge of his nose and cheekbones.
“No…” He breathed out, grabbing Midoriya’s wrist. “Not those.”
Izuku looked up slightly and smiled reassuringly at his friend, without pretending it didn’t affect him.
“I know you don’t like them, but they’re part of you. And your not alone. Shinso has them too. And so does Present Mic.”
“Yamada-sensei?” Katsuki exclaimed.
Izuku didn’t answer verbally, but nodded gently. He added nothing more and gave the blond man time to think. And after a while, Katsuki finally agreed, gently letting go of his friend’s wrist and letting him continue, even if he seemed a little more reserved.
“Thank you, Kacchan.” Izuku murmured softly as he picked up his make-up. The blond didn’t answer, but he knew that the green didn’t really expect an answer, so they continued this make-up session without really talking.
By the time Izuku had finished with most of the scars, Bakugo’s arms and legs were covered in them.
“I never really realized I had so many.” Katsuki said as he examined each mark.
The other teenager laughed softly. “You’ll have more scars than me.”
Bakugo chuckled a little before resuming. “Considering the state of your arms and hands, I’m safe.”
“Oh, but I’m not done with you yet. Give me your hands.”
Understanding which scars Izuku now wanted to paint, Katsuki hesitated. These were the scars he’d received while training his quirk. They were proof that he had trouble mastering it. They exposed his weakness.
“The scars on my hands and arms are from One For All, when I hadn’t yet mastered it.” Izuku said.
Bakugo opened his mouth to reply that he already knew, but Midoriya was quicker and kept talking.
“Kaminari has traces of electrical burns from the first time his quirk activated. Shoji has scars on his arms from when he hadn’t yet mastered his extensions. Tsuyu’s tongue is covered in cuts from training to strengthen it. Iida has burns on his legs from burning himself with his engines. Kirishima cracked his skin several times before mastering his hardening.” Midoriya said softly. “We all have the marks on our bodies that we had trouble mastering our quirks. Showing everyone that you’ve burned your hands more time than I can count says nothing about your current ability to control your explosions. It just proves that no, you didn’t get to where you are today without trouble.”
Now, Katsuki simply had no more excuses, and so he sighed, holding out his hands, palms up, towards Izuku.
The shorter one gave him a small smile and concentrated on the make-up. It was undoubtedly the scars that took him the longest, because they covered the whole of the blond’s palms, and had several layers. Midoriya wasn’t a professional make-up artist, but he thought he’d done a pretty good job.
To make all this make-up stick, Izuku then applied a good coat of hairspray to all the fake scars. And once he’d finished, Katsuki removed his hands and looked at his scars, and he had to admit he felt better, whole, with those marks on his skin.
But as he lifted his head to say so to the green one, he saw that Midoriya hadn’t put his make-up away – on the contrary. In fact, the smaller teen was in the process of removing his sweater, tugging at his compressive sleeve to pull it off.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m going to make up my scars to erase them. That way other people will focus on your scars for once, not mine.”
“No, that’s bullshit.” Contradicted Bakugo as he grabbed his friend’s arm, preventing him from removing his compressive sleeve. “I don’t mind you combing my scars and all, but taking away yours isn’t going to be too much either, Deku. So stop your shit, put your fucking medical sleeve back on and we’ll go back down with the others.”
Izuku didn’t reply immediately, but ended up chuckling a little, a smile on his lips.
“What at your laughing at, nerd?!” Katsuki exclaimed violently, fully back to himself.
“I always knew you cared.” Midoriya said, still smiling.
Bakugo felt like blowing his face off for saying something like that, but he just grunted a little before replying.
“You got no self-preservation instincts, somebody’s gotta watch your ass for you, dumbass.” He muttered, almost aggressively pulling Midoriya’s compressive sleeve up, but still making sure it was comfortable before shoving his hands in his pockets.
Izuku smiles broadly. “Thanks Kacchan. I’m glad to know it’s you watching my back.”
“Hm, whatever. Now stop talking shit and let’s go.”
“Aye!” Exclaimed the green teen happily, nodding enthusiastically.
The blond muttered again, but headed for the door. He reached out to open it and saw his scars once again. He paused for a moment, looking at them.
“Kacchan?”
“Isn’t that too much?” He asked.
“Hmm?” Izuku asked, not understanding.
“My scars. That’s a lot, isn’t it?”
Izuku really wasn’t used to seeing and hearing Katsuki so insecure. But luckily for both of them, he knew what to do about it.
“It proved everything you’ve been through. It shows everyone just how strong the future Number 1 is.” Midoriya replied.
Bakugo longed to answer honestly and say that he thought only the little green man at his side could ever rise to the rank of No. 1, but he had a reputation to uphold.
“Of course I’m the strongest!” Bakugo exclaimed loudly as he violently opened his bedroom door, all trace of hesitation seemingly gone.
Midoriya laughed softly and followed in the blond’s footsteps as he headed for the stairs with a determined air. The two of them soon reached the common room and when the others turned their heads and saw them, especially Bakugo, a great silence fell over the room, all eyes fixed on the blond. Or rather, on the fake scars that marred his entire body. Not even his face was spared, a small scar across his right eyebrow from when he’d smashed his eyebrow into a wall being clearly visible.
And even though he tried to pretend it wasn’t getting to him, and was succeeding rather well, Midoriya knew from his clenched fist that he was more nervous than he cared to admit.
Momo was the first to snap out of her stupor, looking alternately at the two childhood friends. “Boys, what does that mean?”
Midoriya exchanged a brief glance with Bakugo, making sure he had his consent before focusing on the class vice rep and explaining. “Because of his quirk, Kacchan’s skin heals too well and he has no scars. All these marks are where he would normally have scars if he didn’t have this side effect.” The little green man explained.
There was another small flutter in the room before Kirishima broke the silence.
“Woah! That’s so manly, man! I didn’t know you had so many scars!” He exclaimed loudly.
“Kiri’s right! You look even more badass with all that on!” Kaminari joined, with the same energy as the red one.
Katsuki seemed to relax at the two boys’ words and chuckled a little before stepping forward, hands in his pockets, quickly joining his group of friends and joining the discussion on scars.
Midoriya stood back a little and couldn’t help but smile freely at seeing his childhood friend seem so at ease with others, fully himself.
And if, a little latter in the evening, Izuku was approached by Hagakure and Ashido to demand that he join the class girls at their make-up parties because he obviously knew a thing or two about it, well, let’s just say it gave him a new reason to blush and ramble.