Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Midoriya,” Shouto says to Izuku during breakfast. “I mean. Izuku.”

Izuku smiles at him as he chews on his rice, gesturing for Shouto to continue.

“About last night...” Izuku looks away immediately, shoulders hiking up to his ears. Damn. “I wanted to ask something. But if you aren’t comfortable with that, I can drop it.”

He takes a few quiet moments to swallow his food and stares solemnly down at his plate. “I guess that depends on what you want to ask?”

“That’s fair,” Shouto agrees. “You made those lists of reference material for my siblings. I was wondering if you might be able to make one for me, too.”

Izuku’s eyes widen, and rice falls from his chopsticks back into his bowl. Shouto quickly checks for signs that this might be because Izuku’s hands are cramping up, but it appears to just be from lack of attention. “Wha—really?”

Shouto nods. Once they returned to school, it took very little time for Shouto to decide that he wanted to do his own research into quirklessness. 

He wants to be informed on the topic. For a few very clear reasons: First and most importantly, so Shouto never accidentally says or does anything to upset or hurt Izuku again. Second, because the experience at dinner has made him aware of how ignorant he is of much of the world, and he doesn’t want to be an ignorant person. 

But mostly...selfishly...it’s because he wants to understand Izuku better.

Shouto is not going to force Izuku to talk about his experiences, as much as he wishes he knew about them. Upon reflection, it would also be inappropriate for him to try and extract that information from Bakugou. Bakugou wouldn’t even be that reliable a source, anyway.

So instead, he’ll do the next best thing and ask Izuku for reliable sources. 

“I could look into it on my own of course,” Shouto explains. “But I’ll be far more confident in whatever sources you recommend than anything I might stumble into. As you mentioned, not everything that’s readily available is necessarily reliable.”

Izuku stares at him, and Shouto is anxious that he might be about to cry. His eyes do get glassy, but Izuku sits up straighter with that determined smile on his face. The one he gets when he’s trying to keep a lid on overwhelming excitement. “O-okay! Sure! What sort of information were you looking for?”

At that, Shouto shrugs. “Nothing in particular. Whatever you think might be important or useful to know.”

Izuku nods vigorously. “I can do that! Just give me a few hours, I’ll email it to you!!” He shovels food into his mouth impatiently. Shouto raises an eyebrow, but he can feel nothing but fondness.

“I appreciate it.”

————————————

When Shouto receives Izuku’s list later that day, it’s considerably longer than the ones his siblings received. Likely due to the fact that it wasn’t hastily thrown together in a bathroom with nothing but his phone. He resolves to comb his way through it, in between schoolwork and training.

One of the first things on it is a short book on the history of the relationship between those with quirks and those without. Izuku provides a digital copy which he got from who knows where, because he apparently checked and there are no copies of it at the school library, and his personal copy is at home. Shouto downloads it onto his phone and manages to burn through it in about four hours.

It’s honestly a fascinating read. He can see why Izuku would recommend it. Shouto has of course read plenty about the history of quirks in school textbooks, but it was all very basic information. This book is perhaps the first thing Shouto has read that goes into any real detail about the history of their ‘superhuman’ society. 

Something interesting the book points out is that even when the quirkless were still the majority, there was a distinct imbalance of power—while those with meta abilities faced violent discrimination and prosecution, on average, their abilities tended to give them a noticeable advantage. While this was the obvious reasoning behind the decisions of many governing bodies to restrict the use of meta abilities as weapons by law inforcement, it was also a large part of why researchers developed the theory that meta abilities were ‘the next stage of human evolution’.

Izuku also provided an article which highlights the fact that this theory was never actually confirmed. There were (and still are) multiple theories regarding the nature of quirks, and none were ever supported with hard evidence. And yet, the ‘evolution’ theory is the most commonly supported and well-known, often printed in textbooks as if it were fact. When it isn’t. 

Shouto wonders what Izuku thinks of all this. He wants to ask, but Izuku is either incredibly busy or surrounded by their other friends who he probably wouldn’t feel comfortable discussing this topic around. 

So, Shouto texts him. It gives him an opportunity to change Izuku’s contact name in his phone, which makes him happy.

Shouto scrolls through the list absently and finds one of them. The headline is Quirkless Man Burned Alive By Hate Mob. It’s about ten years old. 

He thinks of his older brother Touya, who he barely remembers. Who burnt to death around that same time.

Unbidden, Shouto’s mind produces an image of Izuku being set on fire by an angry mob. It’s just a flash, but it makes him violently nauseous, to the point he has to bring a hand to his mouth. His heart races, and for a moment he considers bursting out of his room to find Izuku and ensure that he’s fine. But obviously he’s fine. If Shouto did that, it would be weird. So he doesn’t. 

Instead, he wonders about how Izuku must have felt, when he read this article. It doesn’t help settle his stomach at all. 

————————————

Shouto’s mother smiles brightly at him, when he next sees her. She’s holding the last letter that he sent her. It’s both sweet and foreboding.

“Shouto,” she says. “How have you been?”

He nods at her, swallowing thickly, eyeing the letter warily. “...Fine.”

“I’m happy to see that our last conversation ended up being at least a little helpful.”

Shouto’s cheeks warm, and he fusses with the sleeve of his shirt. “I...guess it was.”

It’s not that Shouto is embarrassed about what he wrote to her. He feels just as strongly about it as he did when he talked to Natsuo, and he wanted to tell his mother. That’s why he did it. It’s just that now, he has no idea how to have an actual conversation about it...with his mother. 

“I hear from your siblings that they met your friend,” she says. Shouto grimaces.

“What else did they tell you?” He hopes, at the very least, they didn’t repeat what Shouto had explicitly asked them not to repeat. It’s not that his mother isn’t trustworthy, it’s just that it’s not their secret to share. 

She frowns a little. “They mentioned that they may have upset him on accident. Is he alright?”

“He’s...” Shouto reflexively goes to reassure her. But then he hesitates. Is Izuku alright? “I don’t think he blames any of us. But I don’t know if he’s alright. It’s hard to tell with him, sometimes.”

Izuku is quick to smile and reassure and deflect away from his problems. But Shouto can’t shake the way Izuku trembled in his arms, the way his voice sounded when he wondered why he'd had to suffer for so long. (He hadn’t said it in so many words, and maybe he himself doesn’t even think of it as suffering. But it seems obvious to Shouto, what Izuku meant.)

“I wanted to ask if I could meet him as well,” his mother says. “But now I’m not so sure if that would be a good idea.”

Shouto shakes his head. “He’d love to meet you, I’m sure. What upset him has nothing to do with our family.”

“If you say so...”

“I’m just...” Shouto sighs. “Worried about him, I guess. I feel like he silently shoulders so many burdens, and I have no way of knowing the sheer scale of it. Every new thing I learn about him, the weight he carries looks heavier and heavier. How can anyone be okay, living like that?”

His mother smiles at him softly. “I’m sure he has you to rely on. That must be something, right?”

Shouto’s fists clench in his lap. “But he doesn’t really rely on me. I feel like I barely do anything. And what little I do, I have to practically force on him.” Shouto would worry that it was something wrong with him specifically, if Izuku didn't seem to be that way with practically everyone. “I...I want to tell him how I feel. But what if I do, and that just burdens him more?”

The thought is so agonizing that his ribs feel like they’re going to cave in on themselves. Not to mention that he doesn’t even know if he can tell him. Shouto might be so fundamentally damaged, so ruined, that he can’t even tell the people he loves that he loves them.

His mother frowns, and after a moment, she gently pats the space next to where she sits on the bed. “Shouto...come here,” she says. 

Shouto hesitates, but complies, standing from his chair and sitting next to her. The closeness is strange—they’ve always kept careful distance from each other for unspoken reasons. He wants this, but it also makes him anxious.

Slowly, she reaches a hand up to Shouto’s face, watching him carefully for what he can only assume are signs of discomfort. He keeps stock still, transfixed. Finally, she gently cradles his left cheek in her hand. Shouto doesn’t flinch. In fact, his eyes close and all of the tension in his body leaves him at once. He leans into the touch without even thinking about it. There’s pressure and heat building behind his eyes, and a thick lump in his throat. 

His mother is touching him. Like he’s something precious. On his left side.  

“Shouto,” she says softly. “You have such a kind, warm heart. You’ve even been able to forgive a good for nothing mother like me.”

His eyes snap open. “You’re not—” he tries to protest. 

She shakes her head. “No. I haven’t been there for you. I’ve hardly been a mother to you at all.”

“It was me who decided not to come see you,” Shouto protests more weakly. 

“Fuyumi told me,” she says, her normally smooth voice trembling slightly. “That you said it was because you didn’t want to burden me.”

He swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to look away, but she gently tugs his gaze back to her. 

“Shouto. Listen to me. You are not a burden.”  

His mother’s thumb gently caresses the skin at the bottom of his scar. Shouto’s breath hitches, and the pressure behind his eyes threatens to burst. “I’m so sorry I ever, ever made you feel like you were. You are a blessing, understand? I’m so lucky to have you. Lucky that you’re even willing to give me the time of day. And I’m sure Midoriya-kun must see that, too.”

It’s a forgone conclusion. Shouto’s shoulders shake, and he can feel the tears well up. A muted sob is torn out of him against his will. 

And then his mother tugs him closer, into a hug. She cards her fingers through his hair, just like she used to. 

Shouto loses all pretense of self-control. He sinks into her warmth, clings to her tightly like he would when he was small, and cries.  

They stay like that for who knows how long. Shouto loses track of time. But his mother doesn’t pull away, even when his tears dry up. 

God. He feels so much lighter. Looser. He wonders if this is why Izuku cries so much—you feel so much better afterwards. Maybe that’s how he manages to shoulder the burdens that he does. He allows himself to cry whenever the urge strikes him, and so the weight never quite becomes unbearable.

“I love you,” his mother whispers, rubbing his back.

Oh. 

Say it.  

Shouto opens his mouth. Closes it again.

Say it.

“I...” the lump in his throat returns, and chokes him off.

SAY IT.

“I-I love you too,” he croaks. It’s this pathetic, choked whisper of a thing. But he says it. 

His mother squeezes him more tightly, and doesn’t let go.

Maybe his mother is right. And maybe, Shouto isn’t broken beyond repair. He has a mother who loves him—who isn’t afraid to touch him. He can give hugs. He can receive them. He can even cry. And he can tell his mother that he loves her back.

————————————

Another book Izuku provided in his list details the history of pro heroes and their origins in vigilantism. The first pro heroes were chosen from then active vigilanties, and the initial point of pro heroes were to be peacekeepers who were authorized to use quirks as weapons. By definition, there could be no such thing as a quirkless pro hero. And yet, the vigilantes which began it all were not solely comprised of those with quirks, and the book highlights dozens of quirkless vigilantes from around the world and throughout the ages who were well-respected and effective in their work. The tagline of the book is ‘Heroism is not limited to the quirked.’

At this point, Shouto begins to really feel like he’s coming to understand Izuku better. But it’s not in the way he thought. While each resource is informative and interesting, it’s the list itself which tells him the most.

What information does Izuku think is important? He himself must have sought out all of these resources on his own at some point, and it must have been for a reason. ‘Heroism is not limited to the quirked’? If Izuku was a quirkless child who dreamed of being a pro hero, a book like that must have spurred him on. He must have been looking for something to tell him his dream was possible to achieve. 

‘I would have given anything for just one person to tell me that I could do it.’  

Shouto isn’t so tactless as to ask Izuku about that. He does ask him for his thoughts on some of the vigilantes in the book. Who his favorites are, if he knows anything about them that’s not in the book. Things like that. In return, he gets an absolute mountain of text messages that reveals quite a lot in of itself. 

Izuku tells him more about the vigilante Nightstalker, who was a master of stealth. Raves about Star Man, an early vigilante whose martial arts prowess was so unparalleled that he was more than a match for most ‘quirked’ people. He crows about Armsmaster, who was among some of the first pioneers to really make use of support items to the fullest in fighting crime. Armsmaster specifically was an inspiration to Izuku—he made him believe that even he could keep up with modern heroes, so long as he had the right equipment and knew how to use it.

There is very little footage of most of these vigilantes at work. But whatever was out there to find, Izuku had collected. His collection is archived online, and he enthusiastically gives Shouto the link. It’s a mostly private archive because Izuku had attempted to upload it all to some of the more public archives and wikis at one point, but the pages were so aggressively vandalized he’d been forced to remove them.

Shouto peruses that archive. Most of what’s in it is grainy or otherwise poor quality. But it was all clearly important enough to Izuku that he felt the need to preserve it. Tangible evidence that these people existed and were good at what they did. 

Izuku has mentioned, once or twice, how he believes he’s behind in comparison to their peers. How he ‘needs to work much harder than everyone else’ to catch up. Shouto always dismissed this, because in his eyes Izuku is clearly at the top of their class. He assumed that Izuku simply put the rest of his classmates on a bit of a pedestal because of how deeply he admires them. Now Shouto understands that since Izuku had so little time to develop his quirk compared to everyone else, reaching the position he’s in now must really have required insane levels of dedication and hard work. (Which Shouto admires, of course.)

But Izuku still seems to think of himself as behind, even if that’s clearly not the case anymore. Shouto wonders if maybe Izuku grew used to the assumption that becoming a hero would always be an uphill struggle for him. He hasn’t adjusted his expectations to account for having a quirk, now. 

Shouto doesn’t know for sure how Izuku feels, and isn’t going to ask. He doesn’t think he can realistically deny that attempting to become a pro hero without a quirk would have been incomprehensibly difficult. If he had never known Izuku, he might have also dismissed the idea outright as impossible. 

Perhaps his judgment is clouded by his infatuation. But Shouto thinks that if anyone could have become the world’s first quirkless pro hero, it would have been Izuku.

————————————

There’s something that’s been bothering Shouto. A gut feeling that’s gotten worse as he does more research

When Izuku spoke on behalf of Aoko—Fuyumi’s student—he seemed to choose his words very carefully as to not say anything too concrete about his own experiences. He’d alluded to the fact that his own ‘situation’ had been bad, without saying it in so many words.

Most concerningly, though, he’d mentioned that ‘quirkless children tend to be bullied pretty badly’, and ‘people don’t usually notice or care’. He had tacked on a ‘statistically’ at the end, but the implication had been clear: Izuku had been bullied badly, and few people noticed or cared.

It makes his blood boil just thinking about it, so he tries not to. And he’s especially not going to try and go behind Izuku’s back to get information that he wouldn’t want Shouto to have. 

But the implications have cast a concerning shadow over Bakugou in particular. 

Shouto considers Bakugou a good friend, so it’s been bothering him. 

If Izuku really was bullied, Bakugou would have been at the same school. Had he noticed? If he had...did he care? 

Even worse...had he contributed?

Normally, Shouto wouldn’t entertain such a thing about one of his friends. But Bakugou is a bit of an exception. He’s rough around the edges, and Shouto can easily picture his outbursts of rage causing harm when isn’t careful. (In fact, that’s almost certainly why he didn’t initially pass the provisional license exam.)

Bakugou has always been particularly prickly when it came to Izuku. Especially towards the beginning of the year.

Until now, Shouto felt like he wasn’t in a position to judge Bakugou for his anger issues. After all, Shouto had plenty of his own anger that he also sometimes took out on others. In a very different way, but still. Besides, Bakugou has clearly been putting effort into learning self control recently. At this point he is almost entirely bark with very little bite.

Still. Shouto wants to know. It’s going to keep bothering him otherwise.

Bakugou has been spending a lot of time cooking, lately, so all it takes is finding a moment where he’s alone in the kitchen to corner him.

He’s busy chopping vegetables when Shouto enters. Unsurprisingly, he’s ignored, so Shouto clears his throat.

“Bakugou.”

He continues to be ignored. Entirely to be expected. So he repeats himself. Bakugou grumbles, not turning his attention away from the cutting board.

“The hell do you want, Half n’ Half?”

“I have a question.”

“Then spit it out already!”

Shouto hesitates. Should he try and lead up to it at all? Bakugou will probably continue to be impatient, and he won’t like the question no matter what Shouto does. So...

“...Was Izuku bullied in middle school?”

Bakugou freezes, pausing in the middle of cutting chives. His attention is immediately on Shouto, expression guarded. “The fuck did he tell you?”

That...is not nearly as explosive a reaction as he had expected. A strange one, too. Shouto’s eyes narrow. “He didn’t tell me anything. He implied that he might have been bullied at some point, and that’s about it. But he also seemed very uncomfortable talking about it, so I didn’t want to press. I figured you would know.”

Bakugou doesn’t answer him. He glares at Shouto for another few seconds before returning to chopping chives, more angrily this time. He’s probably hoping that Shouto will just drop it. Well, he’s not going to. He frowns. “That’s an odd reaction.”

“It’s none of your damn business, Icyhot,” Bakugou growls. “Take the fucking hint.”

If being tight-lipped like this is in an effort to protect Izuku’s privacy, Shouto can respect that. However, if the answer were no, Bakugou would have just said as much. So that in of itself is telling. And what with his initial reaction...

Shouto didn’t want to believe it. He still doesn’t want to believe it. But it’s starting to look like a real possibility, and if that’s the case, he can’t just ignore it. Maybe he probably should, but nearly everything in him is demanding to know the truth. 

“Did you bully him?”

Bakugou flinches, and he nearly cuts himself with his knife. He sinks the blade violently into the wood of the cutting board and rounds on Shouto with rage in his eyes. “What the FUCK kind of question is that?!”

Shouto doesn’t back down, arms crossed, carefully taking in Bakugou’s body language. He doesn’t really like what he sees. “One that should be pretty easy to answer, I thought.”

“Fuck off!”

“...Since you’re not denying it, it must be true then.”

Bakugou stiffens, gritting his teeth, fists clenched tightly at his sides. He doesn’t say anything to defend himself. Shouto’s heart sinks.

Of all things, he feels betrayed. More deeply than he expected. Shouto likes Bakugou. Respects him. How is he supposed to accept this? 

The only solace he has is that he knows Izuku clearly still trusts Bakugou. Surely, then, this situation isn’t black and white. It’s always been obvious that whatever nasty thing there is between them, it’s very complicated. This just...sheds new light on that, Shouto supposes. 

When more time goes by and Shouto doesn’t say anything else, Bakugou stiffly returns to his cooking. The silence between them is deafening. 

Shouto wonders whether Bakugou bullied Izuku because he was quirkless. He’s tempted to ask, but doesn’t. It isn’t a fair question. There’s no answer Bakugou could give that Shouto would accept. There’s no reason or excuse he could provide that would make it acceptable. The why simply doesn’t matter, as much as Shouto wishes he could understand.

So Shouto asks a different question. And shamefully, it’s colored by his own jealousy. “Why does Izuku still trust you?”

At that, Bakugou just snorts with a shrug, dropping his cut vegetables into a pan and stirring with a spatula. “Search me. I have no idea. It’s just the way he is, the idiot.”

That’s a fair answer, Shouto supposes. Forgiveness is simply in Izuku’s nature. But Izuku’s nature is also to suffer in silence, and Shouto can’t help but think of all of the reading he’s been doing. Everything he’s learned about the way Izuku must have grown up. Who did he have to lean on, through it all? 

Shouto desperately wishes he’d had the opportunity to share Izuku’s burdens before they became quite so heavy. Bakugou had that opportunity, and he squandered it. That’s the thing that makes Shouto the most angry. 

“...I don’t know if I’ve ever been more disappointed in anyone before,” Shouto growls. “Unlike the rest of us, you were there. You could have made things better for him. Easier. But instead, you chose to be cruel.”

Bakugou’s spatula clatters into the countertop. “I know!!” he snaps. “I know, okay?! Do you think I’m proud of it or something?! I don’t need to be reminded of how bad I fucked up!”

Shouto blinks in surprise. Some of the tension eases out of him. At least he understands the gravity of what he must have done. Enough to regret it. Good.

“I’m not going to hurt him anymore,” Bakugou says under his breath, subdued in a way that’s extremely unlike him. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

Shouto scoffs. “I would hope so. That’s sort of the bare minimum.”

“Duh,” Bakugou huffs. “And I don’t do bare minimums.”

Shouto raises an eyebrow. “So what else are you doing, then?”

“You’ve crashed at least three of our training sessions at this point,” Bakugou says. “Why else do you think I agreed to spend all this goddamn time with him? It’s not much, but...”

Shouto nods in agreement. It isn’t much. But it’s something. And Shouto knows it’s making Izuku happy, too...jealous as it makes him.

“Are you going to apologize?” Shouto asks. That feels like the next logical step.

“Obviously.” Bakugou returns to stirring what Shouto now realizes is curry. It smells delicious.

...Shouto can’t find it in himself to hate Bakugou for this. He can’t even really stay angry, not after he’s demonstrated that he’s trying to do better. He still isn’t sure how to move forward, but it isn’t Shouto’s place to determine whether Bakugou deserves forgiveness. Izuku is the only one who can choose to forgive him or not, and Shouto is honor bound to support whatever decision he makes. 

He’s never thought about it before, but Izuku must have his opinions on Endeavor. And yet he’s never voiced them. Izuku wisely chose to give Shouto the space to process his own feelings, and he only now realizes how much he appreciates it. The bare minimum Shouto can do is give Izuku that same freedom, loathe as he is to compare Bakugou to Endeavor. 

“You’re alright, Bakugou,” Shouto says. “I apologize for springing this on you.”

“Whatever,” Bakugou grunts, watching his curry simmer. “Is whatever this is over? Are you done?”

Is he done? Regardless of the apology, this still feels like a sour note to leave the conversation on. Shouto wants to keep being friends with Bakugou, even if Bakugou still refuses to admit they’re friends.

Maybe Shouto could...

He’s wanted to talk to someone, he just wasn’t sure who. And it’s not like Bakugou is the type to gossip. 

“Well...” Shouto starts. “There might be something else. I’m not sure.”

Bakugou groans. “Holy shit. What?!”

“I suppose I could use your advice on something.”

“Okay...and...?” Bakugou narrows his eyes at him. 

Shouto fidgets slightly. Breathes out. 

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with Izuku.”

Bakugou chokes on air. “WHA—?!?!?” He gapes at Shouto like he’s just grown two extra heads. 

That’s certainly an entertaining reaction. If nothing else, Bakugou is hardly ever boring to be around. It’s part of why Shouto likes him.

Shouto scratches nervously at his cheek. “It’s just...despite all this, you’ve obviously known him the longest. I was wondering whether or not you might think it’s a good idea for me to tell him.”

“You’re asking me?!” Bakugou shrieks. Shouto nods. “Holy fuck. What the fuck? What is happening? What the fuck is my life?!”

Shouto sighs. “Look, Bakugou...I don’t want to hurt him either.”

After a bit more gaping, Bakugou looses some small explosions from his free hand along with long, drawn out growl of frustration. “Oh my god. Oh my god, fine! FINE! Sure!! Whatever!!” 

“So...?”

Bakugou points his spatula at Shouto aggressively. “You realize I’m the last person you should be asking about this right?! We JUST got done talking about why!!”

Shouto shrugs. “Point taken. If your advice is bad, I’ll ignore it.”

Bakugou nearly snaps his spatula in half. But he takes a few deep breaths. “So like. What the fuck are you asking, again??”

“Whether I should tell him I’m in love with him.”

“Holy shit,” Bakugou gapes at him again. “You just come right out and—you know what? Whatever. Didn’t take you for this much of a sap, but today’s full of surprises I guess!! SO...” Bakugou’s cheeks even flush slightly as he seems to think over his answer. “So...look. What are your, like. Intentions, or. Whatever.”

“My intentions?”

“Why do you want to tell him, dumbass!! What are you hoping to get out of it?”

“Oh. Hm,” Shouto pauses to think. “Ideally, I’d like to be his partner. Romantic partner. Boyfriend. Whatever you call it.” The word ‘boyfriend’ makes some butterflies flutter in Shouto’s stomach. But...the word ‘partner’ feels better. More fitting.

“Should have expected that...” Bakugou mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “Well if you want me to tell you whether he’s into guys or not, you’re shit out of luck. I have no idea.”

“That’s fine. I’m mostly worried whether knowing about this will bother him. I don’t want to do that to him.”

“It might, if you’re pathetic about it,” Bakugou snaps. “So don’t be, or he’ll tear himself to pieces over rejecting you.”

“If he rejects me,” Shouto feels the need to point out. But he files the advice away. 

“Yeah sure whatever.” Bakugou waves his spatula dismissively. Then he pauses, staring thoughtfully at his bubbling curry.

“Okay...look. Look. There’s some shit you need to know about Deku, if you’re planning on...whatever it is you’re planning on,” he says. “You should have probably figured this out by now, but maybe I gotta spell it out for you, I don’t know.”

Shouto nods expectantly. 

“Deku doesn’t take himself into account,” Bakugou says sternly. “He never has, and he probably never will. All of his self-sacrificial bullshit isn’t going anywhere. You’ve known him less than a year, so maybe you’re thinking, oh I can fix him! Or some crap like that.” He shoots Shouto an accusatory glance. “But I’ve known him all our lives, and he’s been like that the entire time. You may be all goo goo over him now, but see how you feel after a few more years of him throwing himself to the wolves without a care in the world.”

This is not the advice Shouto was expecting to receive. But it feels important. It’s something that Shouto genuinely hadn’t considered. Even now, Izuku’s tendency to disregard himself causes Shouto frustration. He’d thought that becoming Izuku’s partner might mean he would be obliged to rely on Shouto more, but that was...likely naive of him. Bakugou is right. He needs to be realistic about his expectations before he even considers this.

“He doesn’t make anything easy,” Bakugou continues. “And if you’re not prepared for that, and you get in over your head and decide to drop him after a few months because he’s too much trouble, I will actually kill you. They won’t find your body, because there won’t be a body to find anymore, capiche?!”

Shouto swallows, eyes wide. Huh. He hadn’t expected Bakugou to be protective. Today really is full of surprises. “...Noted,” he responds numbly. He has no intentions of ‘dropping’ Izuku regardless of what happens, but Shouto can’t predict the future. He can’t make any promises. “I appreciate the advice. I think I needed to hear that.”

Bakugou huffs, hands on his hips. “Damn right you did. Now, we’re fucking done here. Never talk to me about this again, got that? I don’t want to hear it!!”

Shouto chuckles. “Understood.”

He leaves Bakugou to his curry. Shouto has a lot to think about. And more reading to do.