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“Why did you fight Kacchan?”
It had been bugging him ever since that morning, but it wasn’t until now, after school and far away from prying ears, that Izuku felt confident enough to actually ask. He wasn’t entirely sure why Lee-san had decided to tag along with him instead of going home (surely they had better things to do than follow him around?) but.....it was nice, walking home with someone again. His stomach sank when they didn’t respond, anxiety picking at his brain like too-sharp needles. “You don’t have to answer, i-if you don’t want! It’s just....you got in trouble for it, on your first day! Won’t your parents be mad? Speaking of your parents, shouldn’t you be going home? N-Not that I’m not grateful you’re coming with me or anything or trying to tell you to leave I was just curious and—!” he panicked, freezing as a large, heavy hand gently impacted his dense mass of curls.
“Mido. Wait. I’m not angry. I am......training, right? Japanese training?” they chided gently, hesitating for a moment over word choice before nodding firmly and committing. Despite himself, Izuku snorted wetly, shoving the hand away. It got the point across.
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” he sighed, leading them over to a nearby bench so they weren’t just standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Lee-san followed easily enough, likely using the time to mull over the original question and formulate a response. This whole language barrier thing would be a pain and a half if it weren’t such an interesting challenge, that was for sure.
“Ah....Who is Kacchan?” they asked finally, tilting their head. Izuku blinked, before smacking his forehead. Right, Kacchan hadn’t exactly introduced himself, and it’s not like anyone other than Izuku actually called him that! Plus, it was doubtful that Lee-san could follow a sentence well enough to pick up on his name just from context clues!
“Bakugou, from school. With the ‘bomb hands’,” he clarified, mimicking explosions with his fingers and a slight blush. Lee-san nodded, recognition dawning on their face as they smacked one fist into the other in some kind of weird parody of clicking drumsticks together. What on earth....?
“Ah! Bomb Boy!” they said, nodding. Izuku snorted, eyes going wide as he clapped his hands over his mouth and looked around like Kacchan could somehow hear them. “Mido, is Bomb-kun ‘Kacchan’? Cute,” they teased, smirking impishly. Before he could do more than sputter out a few flustered protests, they continued speaking, smile fading slightly as they avoided eye contact. “Still.....he is.....” they started, before groaning in frustration and roughly scratching at the back of their head. “Fuck!” they cursed, spooking Izuku. “Of course I need to have a tough conversation with the vocabulary of an [----------] preschooler!” they spat, glaring at the sky. “’Don’t worry, all you need is the basics!’ they said. ‘You don’t need anything more complex!’ they said! Well look at me now, Ma! Can’t even explain why I went [-------] to a potential friend because I don’t know the word for calling an [--------] asshat a bully!” they snarled, voice going high and mocking at a few points.
They huffed irritably, dragging a hand down their face and grumbling under their breath. Despite the volume, Izuku....didn’t feel scared? Honestly, they weren’t even that loud. It was just sudden, is all. Also, they did seem to forget something important. “You....remember that I know some English, yes?” he said hesitantly, spooking Lee-san almost as much as they spooked him.....apparently. They turned to stare at him like he’d suddenly sprouted Hawks’ wings, eyes so wide it was almost comical. “Some! Do not go fast!” he said quickly, holding his hands up like he could ward off a word torrent before it started. Was that what it felt like to be on the other end of one of his rants? No wonder everyone was always telling him to tone it down, they were probably too busy trying to catch up to even think about the questions!
“Honestly, I forgot. It’s been.....a long day,” they said bluntly, sighing and sagging back against the concrete wall outside the underpass they were sitting by. Izuku huffed, nodding in agreement. He’d had enough excitement today for the entire week, and it was only Monday. Lee-san sighed, shaking their head and slapping their own cheeks gently, probably to force their brain back on track. Huh. Someone else did that too? Neat. “Anyway. At first, it was because he was being a bully. I didn’t catch most of what he was yelling at you, but I could tell it wasn’t nice. Especially since he’d just [--------] your desk about five seconds before. That’s why I grabbed his hand,” they explained. “His explosions, they come from his palms, right? That’s why I kept his fist closed. Dangerous emitters like that, they still have to watch out for blowback,” they added.
Izuku blinked, awed. “You....for me? Really? ” he asked, having to stop himself from tearing up. To distract himself, he focused on what Lee-san had said about Kacchan’s Quirk. “Um....His explosions....it’s the sweat, really. The ignition is in the palms. B-But! That’s super smart! And the way you held his arm after, to stop him using his Ability to get out!” he said, fingers twitching as he itched for his notebook. He wouldn’t, obviously, he wasn’t that stupid. He’d stopped writing about Kacchan three notebooks ago, when he’d blown it to bits to warn him off his ‘creepy stalker habits’.
Well. He’d stopped writing about Kacchan where Kacchan could find it, at least.
His attention was drawn away from Quirk analysis when Lee-san mumbled something he didn’t catch, and when he looked over....oh, was that a blush? Huh. “A-Anyway, after that, it was because he lost it and attacked me after I told him to get lost. Instinct kicked in, and I had him pinned before I could think,” they explained, rubbing the back of their neck and avoiding eye contact.
Izuku tilted his head, something about that poking at a part of his brain he’d almost forgotten about. “Instinct?” he questioned. They lifted their shoulder in a sort of half shrug, chewing their lip.
“Yeah. Baseline [--------------].....hm. You probably don’t know that one, hang on. Bias? You know what ‘bias’ is, right?” they asked, glancing at him and receiving a nod. “Right. So, anti-baseline bias isn’t as bad in the States as it is here. Nowhere near what I saw today, for sure. But.....that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” they explained, a dark, bitter laugh tearing itself from their throat in a huff of air. “America’s good at that, y’know? Hatred.” They sighed and shook their head, getting back on topic. “Anyway, my dad....he’s police, so he knew better than most how shit it’d be out there for kids like me. He put me in some self-defense classes when I was a kid, and I bounced around a few before finding something I liked. I know a few different things, but the one I stuck with was boxing,” they explained. “It was enough to let me stick up for myself, at least,” they finished, smiling mirthlessly.
Izuku sat for a moment, processing that. Self-defense classes, huh? It’s not like he’d never considered it, of course he had. What kind of hero didn’t know how to fight? Throwing punches was like, All Might’s entire thing. Unfortunately, every gym within a reasonable distance from his apartment was either too expensive, too advanced, or ‘unequipped’ to ‘handle’ a Q uirkless student. And that wasn’t even factoring in the fact that his mom, while he loved her to death, would never let him sign up for one, too afraid of him getting himself hurt. In a way, he almost envied Lee-san for that. At least their parents had let them try, instead of wrapping them in bubble wrap and insisting it was for their own good.
He sighed, picking at his fingers mindlessly. “Your dad.....did he ever.....did he ever say you couldn’t go? Because he thought you’d get hurt?” he asked softly. They hummed softly, thinking about their answer.
“No, but....I think it was more because he thought I’d get hurt no matter what I did. Like....I didn’t live in a good area. Basically no heroes, though there were a couple Underground.....though that might’ve been a vigilante or two. Lots of crime, too. Definitely not the kind of place you want to be walking around alone, especially after dark,” they said softly, voice sounding distant, like they were lost in memory. “It didn’t matter if you had an Ability or not. Breathing fire doesn’t stop you from getting stabbed, after all,” they joked, the off-color humor startling Izuku enough that he let out a snort of laughter.
“Dad started to regret the hands-off approach when I got in more fights at school though,” they sighed, shaking their head. “I was tired of getting pushed around, so I decided to stand up for myself when I moved to high school.” They glanced over at him, hesitating for a moment. “American high school starts at 14. I had one year there before moving here, because I was a year ahead back home,” they explained. Izuku nodded, not saying much to that. A year ahead? Must be frustrating, to be smart enough to skip a grade but having to lag behind due to a language barrier. “Anyway, I would fight back at school, which led to marks on my record. When we moved here, I decided to just....go with it. Nobody knew me, so I could start fresh. I wasn’t gonna be a pushover anymore, so....I figured that I’d start by making people think I was dangerous. If I was dangerous, they’d leave me alone, and I could get through the last year with no problems,” they finished.
Izuku gasped, the dots finally connecting in his brain as he sat bolt upright. “So that’s why you act like a ‘delinquent’!” he said, almost vibrating in place. They snorted, a look of wide-eyed shock flickering over their face before it was gone. “Is the uniform part of it?” he asked, tilting his head and almost physically forcing himself to ask only one question at a time.
They froze, fists clenching in their sleeve cuffs like they were some sort of stress ball. “U-uh? What do you mean? This is the boy’s uniform, right?” they asked, laughing nervously and avoiding eye contact. Izuku narrowed his eyes, studying them a bit closer. Wait. Hang on a minute. The uniform, the avoidance of the topic, not using gendered terms, using goddamn boku ....
“I’m an idiot,” he realized, groaning slightly and burying his face in his hands. “I am....so sorry. I did not mean to pry or make you uncomfortable!” he apologized, bowing as best as he could while staying on the bench. Lee-san....no, that wasn’t right, was it? Lee-kun waved him off, hands held up like a shield and looking incredibly flustered. “You are......I do not know the word in English, but you are like Tiger! It is cool! Don’t worry!” he said, trying to reassure him as he straightened up.
Lee-kun blinked, looking like he was running a mental bluescreen behind his eyes. “Tiger? Like the animal?” he asked. Izuku shook his head, nearly vibrating with excitement as he pulled out his phone.
“No, he is a hero! Part of the rescue team ‘Wild Wild Pussycats’! Here, look!” he said, pulling up a photo of Tiger from a recent interview. Lee-kun took the phone, eyes widening. “The team has a bit of a cat maid theme, and a lot of people asked him if he was uncomfortable with it, but he just said that he wouldn’t have requested his original costume to be remade with his new proportions if he had a problem!” Izuku chattered, more to fill the silence than anything. “Anyway, you are fine! I am not a bully, and it was very mean of Sensei to introduce you as something you aren’t!” he huffed, crossing his arms. “.....Also, I meant why you have your uniform so messy,” he added, ears turning pink.
Lee-kun was quiet for a moment, before a snort broke the silence. Izuku was reaching for his tissues before he could think, knowing the sound of someone crying like the back of his own hand. He pressed the packet into his hand, politely looking away while he cleaned himself up. “.....Thanks, Mido. I....didn’t know there was a hero like me out there,” he said finally, causing a small pang to squeeze Izuku’s heart.
A hero like him, huh.......?
“........Hey, Lee-kun.....can you teach me to fight?”