Chapter Text
All things considered, Katsuki wasn't having the worst time of his life. In fact maybe, just maybe, he was even beginning to enjoy himself. He'd expected Parents' Day, from the start, to be a dreadfully boring experience where he'd be forced to meet all his friends' oddball families against his will. And yet, when he came into school that day with a frown on his face and an even more prominent slouch in his walk, he was pleasantly surprised to find that none of the parents of his friends were anything as weird as them.
Kirishima's moms were the type of sweet to bring cookies shaped like hearts to the event, and Sero's dad was big into explosive science, a topic Katsuki could ramble on about for hours on end if he was given the chance to. All in all, the only "weird" parent was Auntie Inko, but he'd already known that for a while now. He kind of enjoys her version of weird.
The major upside to Parents' Day is that Katsuki's parents are "busy on a business trip," and therefore can't come. That's all a lie of course, but it's a lie he's comfortable with telling if it means Mitsuki stays at home for this one and nobody asks why.
He's just gone toward the snack table when all of that changes.
The sliding door slams open, nearly closing again from the force before being halted by a well-manicured hand that Katsuki would recognize anywhere. Mitsuki's backlit form stands tall in the doorway, and she is, unsurprisingly, pissed. She storms forward, offering hollow apologies to all those she nearly bumps into just to make her way across the room to her son.
Katsuki swallows down the anxiety that begins festering in his throat in the form of a lump. When she's close enough that Katsuki can smell her breath mints, she clamps a hand on his shoulder that he resists shrugging away. With any luck, he can de-escalate the situation before all hell breaks loose and he makes a fool of himself in front of his classmates and their parents.
"What the fuck, Katsuki?" Mitsuki demands, voice level and yet furious at the same time. "Why the hell did I have to find out about Parents' Day from an email, and not from your mouth?!"
Keeping his voice low, Katsuki grits back, "Because I knew you'd react like this, bitch!"
The back of Mitsuki's hand strikes Katsuki's face, whipping his head to the side with the force of it and he doesn't immediately move from his new position. By this point, all eyes are on him and his mother, and the room has fallen silent. With the loud thwack that rings in the air, even more so. He can already feel the bruise blooming across his tender cheek as Mitsuki's burning rage spreads to her voice.
"Don't speak to your mother like that, brat!" She snaps coldly, hand tightening around his bicep. "Let's fucking take this outside so that you can stop bothering all these lovely people with your bullshit!" She gestures widely towards the room, but Katsuki doesn't look at any of them. He keeps his gaze pinned on the floor as she shoves him out the door, into the hallway. When they're no more than a few feet beyond the classroom, she whirls on him and yells loudly enough that Katsuki is sure the people inside can hear it, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
And because Katsuki no longer knows what to do, he yells right back, disregarding his embarrassment from the earlier scene and the dull pain that still lingers undeath his skin. "Why does there always have to be something wrong with me, huh?!" Sure does seem to be a common thread lately. "Maybe the problem is fucking with you, Hag!" She's only stopped from slapping him again by the thread of a hair; the door slides open and Aizawa's dark form steps into Katsuki's view. There's an undeniable anger buried there within his otherwise dull eyes.
"Excuse me," he grumbles, tone devoid of any sort of greeting. "I don't believe we've met."
Mitsuki turns around, lowering her raised palm. "Ah, Eraserhead, right?" She paints on a placid smile. The perfect face of a liar. "I'm this brat's mother, Mitsuki. Please excuse me for being so late! He didn't tell me about Parents' Day. I only just found out!"
"That's quite alright," Aizawa assures gruffly, but the distaste in his voice is evident. "May I have a word with your son?"
Great, what has he done wrong now? Is Aizawa here to lecture him for causing a scene like his mother foretold? He's pretty sure the Hag can do that well enough herself.
Mitsuki tenses, gaze immediately glazing over with suspicion. "Why? We were just about to leave. You can talk to him tomorrow." The 'after I'm done with him' goes unsaid.
Katsuki's eyes, though they remain pinned to the ground, glisten with loathing. Can't Aizawa just fucking leave him alone already? Can't everyone? He's sure they're all listening in like the nosey brats they are, wondering why the hell Katsuki lied about his mother being away. It's shameful, but more than, it's weak. The last thing he wants is for Aizawa to rub salt into his gaping wound. "Yeah, just fuck off. I'm fucking fine anyway. Seriously." He's telling the truth this time. Whatever the Hag has in store for him, he can take it. He's always been able to in the past after all. Even seven-year-old him was tougher than this. You should be embarrassed Katsuki.
Though he can't see it, he can feel Aizawa's glare boring into his slumped form. If his homeroom teacher is angry, that just about means hell for the rest of the week too. Fucking great.
"Okay," Aizawa settles on, eyes never once leaving the blond. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bakugou."
"Yeah, whatever."