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Chapter Text

Deku was an extra that didn't know his place. He should be beneath Katsuki's notice- just another pebble on his road to greatness. But Deku, the fucker, decided to take inspiration from his stupid green hair and kept popping up in Katsuki's life like a fucking weed. Instead of melting quietly into the background, Deku would insist on playing hero for whatever chump Katsuki just so happened to be training with. The fact that his training partner was recruited involuntarily wasn't important- of course these weaklings were scared to face him and his quirk! But Katsuki still had to train if he was going to be number one.

And yet here was FUCKING Deku, getting in the goddamn way again. Like he was challenging Katsuki. Like he thought they were EQUALS.

Katsuki did what he had to do. He put the nerd in his place. The coattail hangers laughed awkwardly and seemed like they wanted to say something whenever he did, but Katsuki didn't have time to listen to the worthless opinions of background characters. He had shit to do.

Izuku looked down at her slightly burnt All Might T-shirt in despair. Ever since Dad left to work in America, money had been kind of tight. She knows Mom splurged a bit on this shirt- normally she got Izuku the cheap knock-off brand All Fight clothes; they were awful quality but they were stretchy, unisex, and most of all *affordable*. Having her one genuine All Might Brand tee get scorched like this- well, it made her sad. She sniffled a little, rubbing at the small burns and nicks left on her arms from Kacchan's latest "lesson".

Then, she smiled.

There was a lot that hurt, ever since her diagnosis. It hurt that her amazing and strong and cool best friend was mean to her now. It hurt that Dad called less and less. It hurt that Mom was gaining weight from the stress of having to raise a quirkless daughter. It hurt that Izuku didn't really know how she could help, being as young as she was. It was scary, the way people looked at her when they found out. The nicer ones seemed resigned, like they knew what was coming to her and felt sorry for her. The others... they saw someone who would have a very hard time saying 'no'.

But not Kacchan.

He may look at her like she was a bug, but at least he saw her and not some stupid statistic, some sad little victim. He didn't treat her like she was made of glass, he didn't ever say she was only good for "one thing."

Sure, maybe he called her worthless all around, but that felt a hell of a lot safer than what she heard whispered by "concerned teachers" and "supportive classmates".

They were... polite, if opinionated. To her face, at least. The things they said contradicted themselves- don't dress like you want attention, something bad may happen. And yet somehow she was supposed to keep track of her appearance so she could nab a 'suitable husband'?

(She was eleven, why would she be looking for a husband now??)

The things they said when they thought she couldn't hear them were much, much worse.

Izuku sighed, mentally letting go of her once-beloved tee. The shirt and the cuts and the burns were a small price to pay for the sense of security Kacchan gave her.

...She maybe kinda was looking forward to middle school, however. At least uniforms were easier to replace than limited edition hero merch.

The opening ceremony for Aldera Middle School was a complete waste of time, in Katsuki's opinion. School history, pride, hope for the future- all that crap being presented as new, as if every student here wasn't from their shitty Aldera Elementary graduating class. Even the uniforms were shit. The collar scratched at Katsuki's throat, irritating him. As if he wasn't already pissed to be here, getting droned at by some bald geezer about who-the-fuck-cares.

Catching a smudge of green at the corner of his eye, Katsuki smirked to himself. Useless as he was, Deku made for a pretty decent stress-relieving punching bag. He began to walk over to him, but paused.

...

......

.......

Why the *hell* was Deku wearing a *skirt???*

Chapter Text

Deku stood there, mumbling to himself, oblivious to Katsuki's incredulous stare. Was this a punishment game? When did Deku get so much free time that he could go to school, chase hero fights across town, make creepy ass notebooks, get beat up by Katsuki, AND apparently still have time to get bullied into cross-dressing on the first day of middle school?

If it was a punishment game, it wasn't doing a very good job. The nerd didn't look humiliated, just his standard level of stroke-inducing anxiety. Maybe he developed a creepy hobby? As if he didn't have enough of them, the fuckin' stalker. No one seemed phased by his uniform though- if there was one thing Katsuki could count on, it was the shittiness of people; by now somebody should be tearing Deku a new asshole, but nobody was.

Katsuki, for the first time in his life, doubted if he should be the one to step up and do the ass-tearing. Then he threw that doubt out the fucking window with prejudice, because Bakugo Goddamn Katsuki doesn't DO doubt, fuck you very much.

He stormed over to the nerd and watched with some satisfaction on how he jumped to attention, snapping out of his creep-o monologues.

"H-hi, K-K-Kacchan," he said, giving a sorry excuse of a wave in greeting.

"Don't you 'h-hi k-k-kacchan' me, asshole. What the hell do you think you're wearing?" Katsuki glared at Deku's bare legs. Did he make Auntie Inko buy two uniforms? He was just *asking* for an ass-kicking at this point.

"U-um. My uniform, Kacchan." Deku had the fucking gall to look confused.

"No shit it's a uniform, smartass. But why the hell did you get the one with the skirt, haah? You a goddamn pervert now?"

Deku startled, before doing something Katsuki didn't think he'd ever see.

Midoriya Izuku, worthless quirkless extraordinaire, glared back at Katsuki. He all but puffed out his chest and firmed his stance, not a quake to be seen. His hands were clenched in fists, not in front of his face like awaiting a blow, but at his sides as if he was holding himself back from putting them up.

"The student handbook says that all female students are to wear the Aldera seifuku, skirt length to the knees, with socks that reach the calf," Deku said, strangely cold. "Failure to abide by these rules can lead to disciplinary action by the faculty and moral committee, up to and including suspension. It's not a freaking fetish, Kacchan. I have to wear this."

Katsuki... wasn't actually sure how to respond to that. But the nerd's know-it-all-tone pissed him the fuck off.

"All *female* students, fucker. Just cuz you're a pussy doesn't mean you actually have one," Katsuki growled.

Something happened too quick for Katsuki to see, and then-

he woke up in the infirmary.

What the hell?

Chapter Text

Okay, so, maybe Izuku over-reacted. Just an itsy-bitsy bit. It was a bit embarrassing, really- Mama raised her better than to punch her friends and classmates.

It all happened so quickly, though. One minute she was talking to Kacchan and the next she was nursing bruised knuckles and getting a lecture from the principal. If she had to describe what happened between now and then, all she could really say for sure was that she... got mad.

Really, really, *really* mad.

The principal continued to lecture her, but Izuku was having trouble focusing on what he was saying. Was this what Kacchan felt like every day? How did he live like this?

Izuku made up her mind. She'd visit Kacchan and apologize. And then they could brainstorm together on relaxation techniques. Now that she knew what it felt like, maybe she could help him manage his anger! This had to be awful for his blood pressure.

Normally, Izuku wouldn't presume to tell Kacchan what to do. He was Kacchan! He was amazing and strong and would be a great hero one day. But this made it all the more important for him to learn that what he said was Not Okay and could Never Be Said Ever Again.

Izuku's brain stalled on the idea of getting Kacchan to apologize for what he said, but then glossed over it. He'd apologize in actions, not in words. As long as he turned back into the Kacchan she knew and not the weird anomalous sexist Kacchan from this morning, everything would be fine.

Everything was not fine.

Izuku seethed as she stormed out of the infirmary, nursing a new set of bruises on her non-dominant hand.

She felt a bit betrayed, honestly. The foibles of puberty always seemed too mundane for Kacchan. He was better than this! All her life, he gave her the strength to keep pushing on just one more day. Every bruise was like a badge, a badge that said she could take it.

And yet.

And yet.

Maybe she was being unfair. Kacchan, no matter how amazing, was just as human as anybody else. The influx of hormones, societal pressures, and social norms could be overwhelming for anybody.

Once she calmed down, she'd visit him again. And apologize. Again.

...And then Kacchan would say sorry verbally, too. As much as she loved him, she couldn't let him get away with a non-apology. Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but three times is a pattern. She owed it to her friend to make sure that it didn't develop into a pattern, and for that he would have to actually acknowledge what he did wrong.

Despite the sense of foreboding she felt, Izuku held on to her optimism. Kacchan could be a little stubborn, but that's what gave him his drive. He was Kacchan! He was super strong AND smart. This bout of puberty-induced idiocy would pass. She just had to help it along.

It was going to be kind of annoying to explain this all to Mama, but Kacchan was worth the trouble. She'd save him. Even from himself.

Chapter Text

Midoriya Inko couldn't help but feel that this was at least a little bit her fault.

The very second Izuku was diagnosed quirkless, Inko panicked. Her bright and cheery baby girl was devastated, but Inko couldn't muster up the strength to comfort her while she cried. She was too busy mentally replaying each and every hardship Inko had faced growing up with a relatively weak quirk. Each and every instance that Inko promised that she would prevent happening to her own children.

The world could be a terrible place. Inko learned that fairly early on, growing up in the foster care system as she did. What people did in the dark to unsuspecting young girls, girls too small and scared to even cry out for help... it didn't bear thinking about.

It might surprise those who knew her, but Inko did not used to be so prone to tears. It took a lot of therapy and emotional strength to change from the dead-eyed child she used to be, the child that learned how to be as unobtrusive as possible, as invisible as possible.

When she found out she was pregnant, she swore that her child wouldn't live that way. Her baby would not be scared to cry, not scared to let others know that they were in distress. Her child would not quietly quake in dark corners, hoping to go unnoticed. For her unborn baby, she put in the effort to learn to be a good example.

Then that doctor visit happened, and Inko didn't know what to *do*.

Izuku was enrolled in self-defense classes the very next day. It made Izuku happy; she saw it as hero training and a quiet encouragement to follow her dreams. Inko didn't have the heart to correct her as to Inko's true motives.

The bruises that Izuku would come home with were proof that it was working.

She made sure that her baby girl was as safe as Inko could possibly make her, and that meant letting Izuku know that it was okay to be ruthless. She drilled her on human anatomy, on the quickest, safest take-downs Izuku was physically capable of. Inko encouraged Izuku's hobby of quirk study, turning it into a game of 'how to use a person's quirk against them'. She did all this on top of bluntly teaching Izuku how to look out for dangerous warning signs in different people and how to use society's views to her advantage. People underestimating her was a *good* thing; it meant that they wouldn't see the blow coming until it was too late.

Her beautiful Izuku blossomed under tutelage, showing a work ethic and intelligence that made Inko weep with pride.

Then, on the first day of middle school, Izuku beat her friend Katsuki into unconsciousness.

Oh dear.

Chapter Text

Katsuki stewed angrily in his bedroom, glaring up at the ceiling.

So apparently Deku was a girl. That, in itself, wasn't all that important in the grand scheme of things. He... SHE was still a quirkless, worthless Deku, and having a friggin' vagina wouldn't change that.

The PROBLEM was that Deku was apparently Katsuki's MOM'S flavor of "girl".

Which, first of all, gross.

Second of all, confusing- Auntie Inko was nothing like Mitsuki, how the hell did Deku end up like this? His (HER, fuck) dad wasn't around, so she didn't learn it from him.

Katsuki chalked it up to it being Deku's fault. Fucker couldn't even girl right, despite having a perfectly good role model. Katsuki always thought that his mom was a fluke. A freak of nature that his dad paired up with for the good of humanity and a special brand of perverse self-flagellation. Learning that there could be other Bakugo Mitsuki's running around loose in the world was fucking concerning.

Especially now that he had to deal with two of them.

Earlier That Day

His mom picked him up from the infirmary after school, learned what happened, and cracked the fuck up.

"How?" she cackled like the fucking harpy that she was. "You- you said you were going to MARRY her when you were TWO!"

"That didn't fucking happen!" Katsuki yelled, wincing when his own volume hurt his already aching head. Katsuki did not have to fucking explain himself to the deranged lunatic choking at his bedside. So maybe a dumbass toddler equated being married to mean 'this person isn't allowed to leave me ever' and applied it to his best friend. That was BEFORE Katsuki realized he was the greatest person in the universe and didn't need anyone, least of all his failure of a crib-buddy.

The principal sat off to the side, looking uncomfortable. "I assure you, Bakugo-san, Midoriya-kun was sent home with a note for her mother and three days suspension; we here at Aldera take discipline very seriously, and-"

Mitsuki waved him off, still snickering. "If the boy can't defend himself from a little love-tap from Izu-chan, that's his problem," she declared, before bursting into more laughter. "Cancel the suspension, we're not going to sue over a playground lover's spat!"

"WHAT?!" Katsuki yelled. "Are you going fucking DEAF, you old hag?! She fucking decked me! Twice!!"

Mitsuki, showing exactly zero fucking maternal instinct OR common sense, smacked Katsuki on the head. "It's your own fault," she scolded. "Don't go blaming Izu-chan for you being a weakling. Man the fuck up."

Knowing a lost battle when he saw one, Katsuki stormed from the room, ignoring his mother's gleeful chatter with the limp-dicked fuckhead principal. What the fuck ever. He didn't need the school to punish Deku, he'd take care of this his own goddamn self. ...Just as soon as his headache went away.

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Katsuki may have miscalculated a bit, here. It wasn't something he advertised much, but Katsuki knew how to be self-critical. To be the best, he had to have high standards for himself. And he had very high fucking standards.

Which was why this whole situation was pissing him off, honestly.

The next day at school, Katsuki had attempted to continue business as usual. Corner the nerd, let the nerd what a fuck up he- SHE was, pop off his quirk for emphasis, everything was going according to plan up until Katsuki tried to grab Deku's shirt and push her against the wall.

He got to the shirt-grabbing part and hit a road block. Two of them, actually.

"Holy shit, you have tits?" He blurted, giving an involuntary squeeze. He had just enough time to whip his head up to look at Deku's face, and then-

He woke up in the infirmary again.

Fuck.

Okay, so don't go in double-fisted. Easy enough. They repeated the same song and dance, Katsuki got to the shirt-grabbing part, and instead of grabbing the fabric, he grabbed at the stupid-ass knot all seifuku seemed to have. Success.

Except that opened up the collar quite a bit. Katsuki had just enough time to think 'Of course it's an All Might training bra' before he was knocked unconscious. 

The next day they didn't even get to the threatening-with-quirk stage because Katsuki, in his VERY rare mercy and generosity, tried to let Deku know that hero-themed underwear was cringe, even if it was a bra. Katsuki woke up in the infirmary with a slap mark on his cheek, along with the expected head-bump.

Rude as fuck. See if he is ever nice like that to the nerd again. Let her get made fun of during gym, ungrateful asshole.

The bed in the infirmary was starting to imprint Katsuki's shape, so Katsuki decided to take a self-care day. He skipped class after homeroom, knowing that if he tried to stay at home the hag would just kick him out of the house as soon as she felt that he didn't have a fever. He hung out on the roof, reading his textbooks (just becuase he was skipping didn't mean he was going to allow himself to fall behind), only to get hunted down by an ugly, pissed off bush with a disappointed frown.

No, wait, that's just Deku.

"It's not good to skip class, Kacchan," she scolded as she dragged him to second period. He'd punch her in the fucking teeth if she hadn't somehow made his arms and legs useless. As it was, he was angrily biting at her sleeves and growling. It didn't stop her, but it did let Katsuki express his displeasure at this blatant disrespect.

Middle school fucking sucked.

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Katsuki had a fucking crisis on his hands.

People were starting to talk. Or maybe they had been talking this whole time and Katsuki only just now registered it? Who fucking knows.

Katsuki had never once put weight in the words of failures and background extras, but it has recently come to his attention that maybe having an ear to the ground could prevent Katsuki making an ass of himself. If Katsuki paid attention, the confusion over Deku's gender wouldn't have happened. The fact that he had to waste precious mental space on useless shit was grating, but Katsuki labeled it as reconnaissance to make it more palatable and called it a day.

Or he would have, if what he was hearing wasn't so fucking upsetting.

From what intel he could gather, there were at least three rumors surrounding Katsuki. One rumor was that he was an abusive piece of shit villain who regularly beats up his girlfriend. Another rumor was that he was a perverted piece of shit who likes it when he is regularly beat up by said girlfriend. The third rumor was that all this drama was the result of pigtail pulling on both parties and that Katsuki and his girlfriend just needed to kiss already.

Katsuki could handle these rumors if they weren't all united by one fact: EVERYONE thought he and Deku were dating.

Fucking gross.

The concept was, unfortunately, something Katsuki was familiar with. He mostly heard it from his mother, and as with most things she said, Katsuki let it float in one ear and out the other. It was the easiest way to deal with her; if Katsuki had to contest every bullshit thing his old hag said, he'd never have time to do anything else.

At least with his mom Katsuki knew she was mostly saying shit to get a rise out of him, but these fuckwads seemed to genuinely think that Katsuki had a thing for annoying, creepy-ass nerds.

This blatant disrespect was dealt with the same way Katsuki dealt with most things: a liberal dose of explosion-flavored violence. Sadly, explosions don't cure people of being fucking idiots. All it cures is people being fucking idiots in his vicinity- they avoid saying shit where he can hear. Normally, that would be enough for Katsuki. Out of sight, out of mind.

So why did it still bug him, knowing people talked about him and Deku being an item?

...

....

.....

He's NOT dating her, is the fucking thing! Its like people are going around saying Katsuki has a piece of shit stuck to his shoe. Or more like, people are going around saying Katsuki likes the smell of shit and so he steps into it on purpose?

Fuck analogies, point is: there is no WAY Katsuki would EVER lower himself by putting his lips anywhere near Deku's. The fact that people thought it could happen was a goddamn insult.

So. How to get them to stop thinking it?

Kicking everyone's ass, while soothing, doesn't seem to be working. Kicking Deku's ass in particular seems to just encourage people into believing their shitty hypotheses.

NOT kicking Deku's ass, maybe? Treat her like the fucking pebble that she is, get everyone on the memo that she is so far beneath his notice that it isn't even funny.

Yeah. People didn't deserve the charity Katsuki has been doling out for years by keeping Deku in check. Katsuki would just avoid her and then she'd be somebody else's problem.

Easy.

Chapter Text

Izuku sniffled, wiping her tears in-between each punch to the now-slightly-crumpled log that served as her training dummy. She's trying to be environmentally concious and not contribute to deforestation, but this was already her 6th log just this month.

Middle school has been *awful* so far. The female faculty policed her conduct to a frankly ridiculous degree, to the point where one teacher has her pressing a 5 yen coin between her knees all period and giving her detention if it fell to the ground.

She got that it came from a place of frantic concern and out-dated values, but it all just reeked of victim-blaming; as if her posture would prevent criminals from attacking her in that way. It was ridiculous.

Some of the male faculty were... worse. She honestly prefered the ones that treated her like she was invisible. She even tolerated the ones that did little to disguise their derision or disgust when interacting with her.

No, her least favorite teachers were the ones that were *nice*. The ones that spoke softly to her and invaded her space "to comfort her". The kindness that they showed her made her feel like she was covered in tar. It clung to her, heavy and dark and no amount of scrubbing in the shower seemed to make it go away.

The lingering hands that clasped gently on her shoulder as they encouraged her to come to them with her concerns in private made her want to scream.

Her body was changing, and her world along with it. It didn't feel fair that she had to endure uncomfortable cramps and a sore back on top of everything else.

Izuku bit back another sob. The thing was, none of this was unexpected. Mama had been coaching her on how the world would view her and her body for almost as long as she could remember. She taught Izuku how to be safe. Izuku knew she could have handled everything, if not for one glaring detail:

Kacchan was avoiding her.

The wood underneith her knuckles buckled. It most definitely gave her splinters, even through the protective tape wrapped around her hands. But Izuku couldn't feel it.

All she felt, was sad.