Chapter Text
What really makes a hero?
When Izuku Midoriya was a kid, he was so hellbent on becoming a hero that he never stopped to think about what being a hero meant. Heros saved people: that's what Midoriya thought. But then, why was it limited to those with a license?
When Midoriya found out he was quirkless—that he could never even dream of being a hero—he was inconsolable for days. He wouldn't eat unless his mother practically begged him to; he wouldn't leave his room. It was a struggle to even get him to go to preschool.
He was only five and his life was already over.
The Bakugos had gotten together to buy him a gift basket. Bakugo knocked on the door, his parents standing behind him with warm smiles. The newest All Might figurine was placed in the middle of the basket despite it being worth more than 19000 yen.
And it had worked, Midoriya cheered up; he started eating normally again, he played outside, and he didn't even fight against going to school. He just needed to know someone was there for him; he was only five.
Inko had profusely thanked the Bakugos, offering to pay them back. Mitsuki laughed her off.
"I'd rather buy Izuku something than my brat!" She had joked.
Then... middle school happened. Hormonal pre-teens who were insecure with themselves and to cope, took it out on others, running rampant in one place. And who better to take it out on, than the only quirkless child in the whole school? What made it worse for Midoriya, was that Bakugo didn't talk to him as much anymore, at least in public. He didn't bully him though—not yet—but he didn't exactly do anything to stop it. But after a year of getting gassed up by everyone else; ("You're so cool, Bakugo!" "Your quirk is amazing! You'll definitely be number one someday!") He let it get to his head (at least, that's what Midoriya believed happened).
Now, no one was there for Midoriya anymore.
He started getting worse again, but this time he was older and smarter; he didn't want to inconvenience his mother with his problems because that's not what heroes did, was it? So he didn't; he lied and told her everything was ok.
She didn't notice, but someone else did. Izuku could never hide anything from Katsuki.
One night—the night everything changed—Midoriya was shaken awake by knocking at his window. He stumbled through the dark, half-dressed and with tangled hair, towards the sound.
"K-Kacchan!?" Midoriya almost fell on his ass when he saw who was knocking, "What are you doing here?! It's two in the morning!"
Bakugo rolled his eyes and pushed past Midoriya as he climbed through the window with a tsk.
"Who the hell cares what time it is, nerd." Bakugo would have yelled if it wasn't two in the morning but he did the closest he could, "What the fuck is wrong with you recently? And don't even think about lying to me."
"I... don't know what you're talking about, Kacchan," Midoriya mumbled.
"I said not to lie to me; You're a shit liar, Deku!" Bakugo hissed.
"S-sorry!"
"Don't apologize, just fucking tell me!"
"I think it's pretty obvious what's wrong with me since I've been getting bullied for it my whole life-" Midoriya murmured to himself.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Bakugo grabbed Midoriya by the shoulder, "You've been moping because you don't have a goddamn quirk?"
"I'm not moping!" Midoriya argued.
"You are!" Bakugo squeezed his shoulder, "You're moping because you think you can't be a hero without a quirk, oh my fucking god!"
"I can be a hero!" Midoriya pleaded, gripping Bakugo's arm with a surprising strength.
"Then be a hero and stop moping around school like an emo." Bakugo rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and hadn't just uprooted years' worth of self-doubt.
"But- I'm... How?" Midoriya stumbled over the multitude of thoughts running wild in his head, "I'm quirkless, what can I do?"
"If you're that worried about it, then, I'll just come with you to protect you... duh," Bakugo seemed... oddly smug about that claim.
"Oh."
And thus, a strange arrangement was born. The next night, Bakugo came in through the window again. This time, however, he brought a bag with him. He launched the bag through the window—was it intentionally aimed at Midoriya's face?—before hopping through himself.
"What's... uh... in the bag, Kacchan?" Midoriya held the bag as if it was a large box, or maybe a fat cat.
Wordlessly, Bakugo snatched the bag from Midoriya and began ruffling through it.
"Go put this on, and for the love of god, put on some pants." Bakugo pelted Midoriya in the face with a ball of fabric, presumably clothing.
"O-okay!" Midoriya squeezed before scampering off into the bathroom.
Midoriya slipped on a hoodie and then a pair of jeans. After he finished, he mumbled to himself for the entirety of the short walk back to his room.
"So... why am I wearing clothes right now?" Midoriya whispered as he re-entered his bedroom.
"We're going out to be heroes, obviously." Bakugo crossed his arms, and Midoriya took the time to observe what the blonde was wearing.
Bakugo wore more anonymous clothing: A t-shirt that Midoriya had never seen him in before, black, of course, and a jacket from some American university over it; Bakugo must have had the hood up at some point since his hair stuck up unnaturally. Bakugo, as usual, wouldn't be caught dead in jeans, so instead, he wore some camo cargo pants. There was a disposable black medical mask on his chin.
"Like going outside and fighting criminals?" Midoriya looked at Bakugo with comically wide eyes.
"Yeah- here," Bakugo handed him a mask like the one he was wearing.
"Oh."
They never did find any criminals that day, but the fact that they were out at night with that intent solidified their place in society.