Chapter Text
It’s snowing on the first Monday of March when Katsuki makes his way over to the teacher’s offices before class.
Izuku has been begging him—literally got down on his knees and begged—to visit the UA campus for months now. Only problem is: it means Katsuki has to go request a visitor pass, which also means he has to tell Aizawa that he has a friend. And that he wants to bring this friend to campus and show them around like he’s a fucking tour guide.
Fuck, this is so going to ruin his rep.
He’s put it off for a long time, but with graduation less than a month away he’s run out of excuses.
He saunters up to Aizawa’s desk, hands in his pockets
His teacher is leaning on the desk, chin in hand and clicking at something on his computer. After a few moments, he glances tiredly up at Katsuki.
“Is there something I can help you with, Bakugo?”
Here goes nothing.
“I need a visitor pass.”
“For who?”
“Someone.”
Aizawa’s brow twitches. “Does this someone have a name? The school has to run a background check before granting entry to a visitor.”
Ugh, now Katsuki is going to give Izuku’s name, and shitty Aizawa is going to ask questions. He hates it here.
“Izuku Midoriya.”
Aizawa’s eyes widen, and he shifts to properly look at Katsuki.
Well, that’s not what he expected.
“A friend of yours?”
“Yeah,” he has to resist the urge to avert his eyes, still finding it hard to admit this out loud after all these months. The word friend holds more weight when it comes to Izuku. Always has.
“You said his name was Midoriya?”
“You need a hearing aid or something?” his scowl deepens.
Aizawa, ever the blunt and straightforward type, seems to choose his words carefully for once. “It’s just that Midoriya is a very wealthy name. They own Japan’s largest pharmaceutical corporation and have strong ties to America.”
It’s news to him. Sure Izuku went to a prestigious medical school and had mentioned his father was a businessman in pharmaceuticals, but he’d never indicated his family was rich. Katsuki isn’t sure whether he should be offended about the lack of disclosure from someone he considers his closest friend.
“You weren’t aware, were you?”
He flinches at the insulting question, irritation rising within him.
“I suppose it makes sense. They’re an extremely private group and, well, really the name is more notorious within medical circles than among the general public. Gotta wonder how you casually stumbled across one of them, though. How did you two meet?”
“I saved his sorry ass a couple times and he stuck around like a moronic leech,” he answers and it’s not completely true but Aizawa doesn’t need to know that.
Aizawa’s mouth quirks up into a teasing smirk. “Sure, I’ll buy it. So you just stumbled across this kid from a mega-wealthy family and they just happened to take a liking to your sunny personality?”
The sarcasm grates on him but he makes an effort to remain at least somewhat composed. “What, you think I’m lyin’ about that shit?”
“Not at all,” Aizawa responds with a completely straight face, but he looks like he wants to laugh. “This is just a very odd scenario to wrap my head around. Where did you say he’s from?”
“I didn’t.”
His teacher is silent for a few seconds, waiting for Katsuki to answer the question. Katsuki groans. He fucking knew this one simple request would end up being a whole mission and a half. All for a stupid nerd who annoys the hell out of him day in and day out.
“Jeez I don’t know his whole damn life story! He lives in Hosu and goes to the med school there.”
“Hosu Med? I have to say Bakugo, this all sounds superbly strange coming from you, but I’ll bite. I’m sure the request will be approved.”
“So you’ll get him a pass?”
Aizawa sighs and slumps back into his chair. “I’ll see what I can—“
His teacher’s phone starts ringing on the desk, and Aizawa deftly answers after checking the caller ID.
“I see…the one in Utsunomiya?…I’ll be there.”
Aizawa shuts the phone and gets up. “I’ll put in the request later. There’s a hostage situation at a bank and I’ve been called to help.”
While Aizawa asks Present Mic to cover for him, Katsuki’s mind starts piecing together what he said. Utsunomiya is where Hosu is. It’s the first Monday of the month. Izuku always goes to the bank on the first Monday of the month…
“You have to take me with you!”
Aizawa stops and turns to face him. “Oh, and why’s that? I’m not going to let you tag along just to skip class.”
“It’s not that,” he groans, pulling at his hair until it hurts. Why does Izuku always have to pull this shit on him?
“You’re not gonna believe this…”
Kacchan is so not going to believe this, is the first thought on Izuku’s mind as he stares down the barrel of an assault rifle.
Katsuki is always getting on his back about putting himself in dangerous situations to save people. And, okay, Izuku will hand it to him; he’s right almost a hundred percent of the time. But this time it really was just a coincidence that he was at the bank when the thieves came in. What was he supposed to do—have the precognition to know that the bank he visits every month like clockwork would get robbed at this exact day and time?
He gasps when the barrel slams into his forehead harshly, sure to leave a bruise that’ll match the others he received moments ago. The criminal with the rifle is glowering down at him. “Stop that mumbling! Tell me what was in those needles!”
The first bit of the heist seemed to go well for these guys. Their plan, from what Izuku could see at the time, was smart. Not flawless, though. Pro heroes along with the police currently have the place surrounded.
Izuku and the other civilians in this bank are now hostages.
Really, he’d actually done nothing this time to warrant being lectured. Except…well they were learning wound care in school this week and he had his kit on him, stocked with basic pain and allergy medications among other things.
And maybe he shouldn’t have used the moment their guards were down to attempt to incapacitate two of the criminals using high-doses of antihistamines. Regrettably he’d only been half-successful with that little stunt due to the other guy having magnetic skin. The needle curved and bent back as soon as it was within an inch of his body.
So freaking cool. Izuku wonders if the guy can manipulate the polarity of his body to attract or repel where he wants. He must be able to, otherwise he likely wouldn’t be able to hold a gun. Unless his gloves have special gear…
Izuku’s brain is running a mile a minute thinking about the possibilities of such a quirk, but he needs to focus on the problem pointed at his head right now.
Thankfully, the one he did take down had a dangerous offensive quirk. It took a bit for the effects to kick in but soon she was stumbling, unable to hold herself up. He’s not sure if she’s unconscious or not where she sits lying on the ground against a desk, but she’s sedated well enough and with her out of the equation, the heroes should have an easier time devising a rescue plan.
Izuku: 1, Bad Guys: 0
It is not his fault at all that he’s become part of an active hostage situation.
It is entirely his fault that Magnet-man is about to put a bullet straight through his skull.
If these guys don’t kill me, Kacchan definitely will.
He can’t tell them what was in the needles or he’ll lose the leverage he’s gained. But, he still has one more gambit to play.
“Hey…” his eyes are narrowed at the three remaining criminals, feigned confidence betrayed by his trembling voice. “Did I mention who—”
The lights go out.
Glass shatters.
Figures haloed by the morning light flood in.
The metal against his forehead is pulled away.
A gun goes off.
Ringing. Pain. His back hits the ground.
His vision becomes dizzy, but for a brief, fleeting moment, he regains focus long enough to see snow drift softly in through a broken window, hitting the ground near his head silently.
The ringing amplifies. His eyes roll back.
Nothing.
Izuku: 1, Bad Guys: 1
Katsuki is tapping his foot impatiently at Izuku’s bedside when he finally wakes up. Izuku jolts, eyes flying open and a shaky breath releasing. He brings his hands up to cover his ears immediately and shuts his eyes tight.
“Ow, ow, ow,” his voice is a strained whisper.
Katsuki stands from his seat and pulls Izuku’s hands away by the wrists. “Stop whining for fucks sake, they healed you and gave you a cocktail of pain meds.”
Trying to speak without raising his voice is hard, but he keeps reminding himself that the doctor said Izuku’s ear is still sensitive to loud noises and is susceptible to further damage over the next few days.
The pros didn’t let him take part in the takedown and rescue operation, the nature of his quirk not suited for the situation and not needed regardless, but he ran straight into the bank as soon as he heard the all clear over the comms.
He found Izuku the way he always seems to find him during a crisis: bloodied and bruised.
Moments before, watching the security footage outside with the police, he’d seen Izuku try to play hero and watched that one jackass point a rifle right at his head after giving him a beating. But the pros and the police had a plan. Izuku wasn’t supposed to get hurt.
Katsuki had almost panicked at the sight of blood pooling under Izuku’s head, mingling with the melted snowflakes.
Izuku squints his eyes open, accompanied by a small smile. “Kacchan, what are you doing here? What happened after…wait, what happened at the bank? How did I get here? Why won’t my ears stop ringing? And that one girl, I drugged her, did she get proper treatment?”
“Slow down, nerd,” he releases Izuku’s wrists and stuff his hands in his pockets. “The pros executed a rescue plan, but the guy who had the gun on you fired a shot when they were knocked away,” he pulls out his phone and opens the front-facing camera, hands it to Izuku.
“Bullet grazed you but your ears suffered concussive damage and it knocked you out. You woke up twice in the ambulance but I guess you were in too much pain to remember. Doc wouldn’t tell me much since I’m not family or an emergency contact, but I’ll go tell them you’re awake.”
Izuku seems like he’s only half-listening. His eyes are fixated on Katsuki’s phone, his fingers tracing the brand new scar that runs just past the corner of his eye, stopping in his sideburn and starting again along his ear, where heavily scarred flesh is at his earlobe.
“You didn’t say why you’re here. Did you help with the rescue?”
“No,” he answers plainly. He knows Izuku is asking for a proper explanation, but he’s too stubborn to give one. Unwilling to make certain admissions.
Izuku seems to get the hint, changing the subject. “The girl I sedated, I gave her a really dangerous dose of antihistamines…is she okay?”
Typical Deku, wanting to know if a lousy criminal was okay before finding out if he had permanent hearing damage. Because a thief’s life is still somehow worth more to him than his own life.
“Yeah, you mentioned it briefly when you woke once. I told the cops right away and they had the chick treated in time,” he takes a deep breath, truly struggling not to start shouting. “You’re crazy, you know that? Doc said you didn’t administer enough to cause a fatal overdose but that whole stunt you pulled was insane. You shouldn’t have put yourself in danger like that.”
“They were going to start hurting people to threaten the heroes and the police,” Izuku says, as if it were more than enough to weigh his life against.
“So you get yourself hurt inst—” he stops himself as soon as he realizes his voice has raised. “Fuck, you know what, I’m not having this argument with you when I can’t yell. My mom brought you a change of clothes earlier,” he gestures to the folded clothes on the bedside table.
The nerd looks down at the hospital gown he’s wearing with a small frown, as if it hadn’t reached his notice that he was no longer in his civvy clothes until now. “Oh…Tell her I said thanks.”
He won’t, only because he knows Izuku will call his mom himself.
“You really pissed me off, Deku.”
“You just said you didn’t want to argue…” Izuku pauses, his expression morphing to one of understanding, “I know. I’m sorry, Kacchan.”
Katsuki gets up.
“I’m getting the doctor.”
He walks out before Izuku can respond.
The doctor doesn’t waste time getting to the hearing tests, and Izuku can’t blame her. He’d gone to the bank early in the morning, and it was already nearing sunset.
“Your left ear didn’t suffer much damage, so we were able to completely heal the eardrum.”
Good, Izuku thinks.
They check his right ear, and Izuku has a bad feeling before the tests even start. He’s got a dull headache that the pain meds are barely keeping at bay, and there’s a constant ringing noise that’s really starting to bother him.
“Unfortunately,” the doctor starts, and Izuku’s dread settles into premature acceptance, “your right ear suffered the brunt of the gunshot. We weren’t able to repair it completely. What you have is called unilateral hearing loss.”
“How bad is it?” he asks because he feels like that’s the kind of question he’s supposed to ask. Does it matter though?
The doctor gives him a number. A percentage estimate of his hearing loss.
“Every case is different, but some common side effects of this condition include issues with localizing sounds, focusing on conversations in loud areas, and ear strain in your uninjured ear, balance issues. There are some other side effects you might experience. If the ringing you mentioned doesn't get better it might be permanent but thats unlikely in cases like this.”
“Okay.”
The doctor gives him advice for recovering, an ear plug for his right ear to use for a couple days, tells him not to return to school until the headaches cease, to give his ear a chance to heal more in a controlled environment. He’ll be sensitive to loud noises, the doctor says, so he needs to stay home or wear noise-cancelling headphones if he needs to go out.
“Okay.”
“If you don’t have any more questions, I’ll go have the nurse ready your discharge papers. Your friend is still here, I believe. I saw him yelling at a vending machine on my way here. Would you like me to send him off for you?”
He knows Katsuki shouldn’t still be here. He’s going to get in trouble for breaking UA’s curfew over a non-emergency. But the stress of today and the ringing in his ears is making him feel selfish for once, and he doesn’t want to be alone right now.
“Actually, can you send him back in?”
The doctor smiles, but it’s a practiced, professional smile that doesn’t offer any warmth. “Of course. Remember what I said about loud noises. If you have any concerns, you be sure to follow up with your family doctor.”
“Okay.”
He knows why he feels so awful right now. Not just physically. He’s always gotten away with his “heroic idiocy” as Katsuki likes to call it. Sure he got hurt every now and then, but nothing permanent. Nothing lasting.
The doctor leaves and bile rises in Izuku’s throat as he comes to the understanding that he was an inch away from death today.
Izuku, meet consequences.
After letting the nurses know Izuku was ready for the doctor, Katsuki goes to the nearest vending machine, but when it fails to release the candy bar he paid for his frustration from everything today bubbles to the surface.
He’s aware that yelling at a vending machine and assaulting it is earning him a lot of alarmed looks, but he doesn’t have the capacity to care.
A hand falls on his shoulder, and if it had been anyone else it probably would’ve pissed him off even more, but he knows this hand, so he pauses his attack.
“It dropped your candy four kicks ago,” Aizawa says, his mellow voice slightly muted by his scarf.
Katsuki exhales, inhales, exhales, slumps against the stupid vending machine because he’s been on edge since this morning and now that he’s certain Izuku will be fine he is so, so tired.
He’s got the feeling Aizawa can see right through him. Can tell that his anger did not stem from a damn vending machine. Yet, he doesn’t push, doesn’t ask Katsuki for explanations. Not once today, since they got to that bank. He’s silently grateful for it.
“Ready to head back yet?”
He has to force his voice to work. “I need to stay a little longer.”
“Okay. I’ll wait, then.”
It’s nearly curfew at UA. Under any normal circumstance, Katsuki would get in massive trouble for breaking it unless it was for work studies, or an emergency. This is neither, but Aizawa is here, telling him okay, so he trusts his back is covered.
“You can take your hand off my shoulder now,” he says.
“Step away from the vending machine.”
“It’s a dumb machine that can’t dispense properly.”
“Kid, you’re not going to break hospital property over a candy bar.”
“I could.”
“Bakugo.”
“Fine.”
Izuku is staring longingly out the window when Katsuki returns. He’s standing still, peaceful, with his hands stuffed in the pocket of the salamander orange hoodie he’s changed into. The dark green stripe of the black joggers he’s wearing blends with his natural features.
Katsuki recognizes the clothes, though he hasn’t worn them since middle school. Izuku is not necessarily scrawny (courtesy of the martial arts training he has), but he’s shorter and more lean than Katsuki, so even this old outfit has a loose fit on him.
“It’s the last snow today, isn’t it?”
Katsuki follows Izuku’s gaze, watching the sparse, soft snowfall outside. “You shouldn’t be up, you have head trauma.”
Izuku chuckles, breathy and tired. “I know it’s just…it was such a beautiful day today.”
Was. It still is, technically. The setting sun is casting a warm glow over the city, and the air feels content. But for him and Izuku, for everyone else at that bank, the day has been sullied.
“The doctor said the damage to my ear drum is permanent, and that I’ve likely lost over 50% hearing in my right ear. It’s hard to tell for certain how bad it is until I’ve healed up a bit more.”
“Well, I don’t see how thats a problem,” Katsuki closes the curtains and drags Izuku back to the bed, who doesn’t lay down but at least sits and that’s enough for him.
“Oh?”
“I mean you already complain that I’m too loud and yell a lot, anyways.”
Izuku laughs.
“That jackass basically did you a favor.”
He laughs harder.
It’s not funny, not really. But that laugh is the medicine Katsuki needs right now, and he thinks Izuku needs it too.
“I still got a good hit in for you once he was in custody,” he shows off his bruised knuckles like a trophy. “Broke the little fucker’s nose. The chief gave me hell for it afterwards, but it was worth it.”
“Thanks, Kacchan.”
“Whatever, Deku. I’d yell at you for being so fucking reckless if your hearing wasn’t at risk of more damage right now.”
“I believe thats my line.”
Izuku startles but Katsuki remains steady, though wary, as they both turn their heads to the man entering the room.
“Although I’d spare the vulgarity. It’s not befitting of a Midoriya man,” the newcomer comes to stand near Izuku, gazing down on him with a look that could only be described as parental.
Katsuki has never seen a photo of the man, but he knows instantly who he is from looks alone.
“Dad!” Izuku winces, tempering his volume when he speaks again, “You’re back early.”
“Yes well, being halfway across the world from your foolhardy son can get quite challenging when said foolhardy son is constantly endangering himself and acquiring injuries.”
Izuku’s father’s eyes, Katsuki notices, are the same exact shade of green as his son’s as they take in the scar on Izuku’s face and the small greenish bruise that wasn’t healed completely on his head.
“It’s not as bad as it seems.”
“Shut up, Deku, your old man has a point.”
“Ah, finally someone’s in my corner,” the man smiles a little and though his hair is black he’s got those freckles and youthful features. It looks so much like Izuku’s smile. “You must be the young “Kacchan” who reignited my son’s mad ambition to be a hero.”
Katsuki has to remind himself that he’s not imagining the faint wisps of smoke that trail from the man’s mouth and nostrils. He’d almost forgotten Izuku said his dad could breathe fire.
“I didn’t reignite shit, geezer. Deku’s always been a maniac.”
“Kacchan!”
“Hmm, you know my son well. Always trying to build castles in the sky. I suppose I can take comfort in the notion that my Izuku has a soon-to-be pro hero for a friend. It’s a delight to finally meet you, Katsuki.”
His smile, his voice, his demeanour, his eyes…If Izuku is sunlight incarnate, his father is a near thing. Katsuki can’t tell if that makes him likeable or irritating.
“Call me Bakugo, pops.”
“Kacchan, don’t be impolite.”
“Oh it’s quite alright Izuku, Lord knows I could use some harmless humour after all the stress you’ve put me through.”
More smoke, almost undetectable, but it seems to only happen when Mr. Midoriya’s emotions are stirred.
“I’m really sorry, Dad,” Izuku truly sounds apologetic, “I was just trying to save people.”
“You always are.” Mr. Midoriya sighs. “Bakugo, please say your goodbyes to my son. He’s been discharged and I’d like to take him home where he can rest properly.”
The man turns to Izuku. “Oh, and we’re going to see if Dr. Five can do anything about your ear. I don’t trust this hospital, it looks underfunded. Even the vending machine appears like it came from a junkyard.”
“Okay, but rest first, my head still hurts a lot,” Izuku nods. “I’ll see you, Kacchan. Thanks for staying. You won’t get in trouble, will you?”
He hates that he has an audience. He doesn’t like the idea of showing vulnerability in front of someone he hardly knows or trusts. But then he thinks about how Izuku looked just moments ago, gazing out at the snow.
So he gives into impulse, tousling Izuku’s hair tenderly. “It’s fine, Eraserhead’s got me covered. Rest up so I can beat the shit out of you later for all this, kay?”
Izuku smiles, “You got it, Kacchan.”
“I plan on staying for a while, so I suppose I’ll be seeing you, Bakugo,” Mr. Midoriya holds out his hand for Katsuki to shake. He reluctantly takes it after catching a firm glare from Izuku.
“Be seeing you, old man.”