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The first thing Deku noticed when he woke up was the strange absence of pain. Although his body still ached in some places, his arms no longer felt like they would fall off. He groaned as he sat up and looked around the room.
He screamed when he saw himself on the cot beside him. Was it the doing of some quirk? Was he dead? Was it some really vivid dream?
“You two were hit with a body-swapping quirk,” Aizawa explained in his usual dry tone from where he stood in the doorway. “The police are already starting an investigation to find out who caused this.”
“Oh…” That was a lot to take in. He looked down at his hands, except they weren’t his hands. Wait, whose body was he in? Examining his not-his-hands closer, he recognized the familiar scent of nitroglycerin. No way. He pulled at his hair, getting a glimpse of blond.
“You got switched with Bakugou.”
At the confirmation, he remembered what he had been doing earlier. He and Bakugou were returning to U.A. when someone bumped into them hard, nearly knocking Deku over. Bakugou had been yelling some angry insult at the person when everything went black.
“How did you know it was a body-swapping quirk if I just now woke up?” Deku couldn’t help but wonder.
“We figured it out when ‘Midoriya’ told me to die. Repeatedly,” Recovery Girl said as she gave him a once over.
“Sounds like Kacchan,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Everything was a little quieter, especially in his right ear. Why had Bakugou never said anything about that before?
Deku got sent back to his—Bakugou’s dorm. Due to Bakugou’s nature, Recovery Girl decided it would be best to break the news to him alone. He probably would’ve tried to kill Deku before anyone could explain.
Being in Bakugou’s room was strange. It felt like an invasion of privacy, even if all he was doing was sitting on the bed. He wasn’t allowed to go back to his own dorm because that would raise questions. Their class didn’t know yet, and Deku wasn’t sure if he really wanted them to know. As much as he hated keeping secrets from his friends, he didn’t want to share the situation with them. Uraraka and Todoroki knew about his crush on Bakugou and would torture him.
Deku managed to grab one of his notebooks before he headed to Bakugou’s room. He had enough pages about Bakugou that he could probably make an entire book of just that. It would probably rival the page count of the Bible. He was geeking out, creating tiny sparks on his hand. That was finally his chance to understand Bakugou’s quirk up close.
“Are you seriously studying me right now?” The door flew open, and Deku had never heard his own voice sound so angry before. His usually soft features were forced into a scowl. It looked a bit silly.
“Ka—Kacchan,” he gasped in surprise, and wow, did that sound weird in Bakugou’s voice.
“Ugh, don’t say it like that,” Bakugou cringed. “I can’t believe I’m stuck in your loser body.”
It was strange watching himself. It was like an out-of-body experience, and well, it literally was.
“My body is nice,” he argued.
“Sure, it is,” Bakugou said sarcastically. “Tch, and I have to go sleep in your room next to your All Might shrine.”
Deku silently pointed at the bookcase with only All Might merch on it.
“You shut up,” he snapped, face flushing. “That—That’s different!”
“I didn’t say anything,” he responded innocently.
“You thought it.” Bakugou crossed his arms, then winced and dropped them to his sides. “Also, what the fuck is wrong with your arms? They hurt.”
“Oh, well, the weather is getting colder, so the barometric pressure is changing as well. The change in pressure causes blood circulation to decrease, which increases nerve pain as the nerve signals slow down. Oh, and the soft tissues become firmer and tighter in the cold, which causes muscle spasms, so it’s—”
“Deku,” Bakugou snapped. “Shut up. I just asked what was wrong with your arms. Give me the short answer.” Maybe Deku didn’t hear him right (He could barely hear anyway), but he could’ve sworn that Bakugou’s voice softened.
“Oh, sorry. The weather is getting colder, so it’s causing a flare-up. I started to notice it on the train earlier, so it’s probably only gotten worse since then.”
“A flare… A what now? Nerve pain?” Bakugou looked back and forth between his arms and Deku.
“I have some nerve damage in both arms,” Deku said slowly. “I thought I told you that?”
“No, you didn’t. I thought Recovery Girl fixed your ass or whatever.”
“Well, she did, but after I shattered my arm at the sports festival as a first year, it only went downhill from there. The healing quirks can only do so much. There was one point where they were worried I wouldn’t be able to use my arm at all again.”
“You shattered it?” he yelled.
“Kacchan, shh!” He frantically waved his arms out in front of him. “But yes, I did. Where have you been?”
“I’m not a stalker, unlike someone.” He slowly gestured to the notebook. The wince on his face showed that he regretted the motion.
“You think this is stalking? This is nothing compared to middle school me,” he joked.
“Hah?!”
Before Bakugou could question him more, he walked over to him. “Let me help.”
“Hell no. I don’t need your help. And stop speaking so softly in my voice. It’s weird,” he scoffed.
“Kacchan, you’re in my body. I know exactly what pain you’re feeling. It sucks. I know that. It’s my fault you’re dealing with it, so let me help.” Bakugou wouldn’t look him in the eye, though Deku understood why. It was freaky staring into your own eyes. “Think of it as I’m doing this for me. Because I don’t want to be in a world of pain when we switch back.”
That seemed to sway Bakugou. Mumbling a slew of curses under his breath, he dropped down on the edge of his bed. “Fine. Do what you need to do.”
While Bakugou had come a long way from the way he was during their first year at U.A., he still had a hard time being vulnerable, and Deku was sure the whole quirk incident had him on edge as well as the pain.
“Whoa!” Bakugou pulled back the moment Deku’s hands started to glow. “Hell no. You’re not using my quirk. I have explosive sweat, you moron,” he stressed.
“I’m not even causing sparks,” Deku pointed out. “The heat will help the pain, okay? I know what I’m doing. Your quirk isn’t hard to control at all at this level.”
“Whatever. It’s your body that’ll suffer the consequences.”
Taking hold of his scarred hands, Deku warmed them up the way he wished someone would do for him. It wasn’t that he was against asking for help, but whenever he had bad days, he always felt inferior. If only he had listened to his teachers and taken things slow with One for All, maybe things would be different.
“You know, I think you would do great on the support course,” Deku thought out loud.
“I’m good at everything.”
“Sure you are, Kacchan.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to—”
“Anyway, I’ve always thought your quirk would be good for welding. You could build a lot of support gear. I’ve also thought your quirk would be great in the medical field.”
“You think a lot about my quirk, stalker.”
“Your quirk is amazing, Kacchan.” Bakugou had probably heard that a million times throughout his life, but Deku didn’t mean it the way other people did. He didn’t think Bakugou’s quirk was amazing solely because it was powerful. No, he thought it was amazing because of how Bakugou used it. He put so much time and effort into his training. His quirk was naturally strong, but Bakugou went above and beyond to use it to its fullest potential. That was what Deku admired about him, amongst a gazillion other things.
“Yeah, yeah. Why the hell do you think it’d be good for medical stuff? It’s explosions.”
“Well, your sweat is nitroglycerin. Nitroglycerin is used for people with heart conditions. You could help out in that sense, but also the heat aspect would be helpful as well. Just like the way I’m using it now.”
“You’re not using my quirk in any way that I haven’t thought of before.”
“I never said I was,” he laughed softly. He paused at the sound. Bakugou should laugh more often.
“It’s late. I’m going to bed,” Bakugou said abruptly after Deku had been working the stiffness out of his arms for a while.
“It’s only nine?” Deku said as he stepped back.
“Exactly. It’s late.” He grabbed a couple of things from his bathroom to take with him.
“Oh, okay. By the way, Mr. Aizawa said to keep this on the down low.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s not me we need to worry about. It’s you and your loudmouth and bubbly personality.”
“I can keep a secret,” Deku defended himself.
“You told me about One for All within like a week of having it!”
“That’s different! I can do a great Kacchan impression.”
“I’d love to see you try, nerd.”
Deku shoved his hands in his pocket and scowled. He tsked and leaned back against the wall.
“I don’t act like that. You look constipated.”
“As if you could do better,” Deku taunted.
“Oh, Kacchan, do you want to be sparring partners?” Bakugou mocked his cheerful tone, softening his expression in a way that was too accurate for comfort. “Oh, sure, Uraraka-san, I’d love to study with you! Has anyone seen All Might? Oh, wow, your quirk is so cool that I’m going to go write every detail about you in my little diary—”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” he laughed. It was a little concerning how accurate some of that was. Mainly just the tone, though. His words weren’t all that correct. “Tomorrow is Saturday, so hopefully, we won’t have too many run-ins with our class.”
“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed, pausing in the doorway as if he had something else to say.
“Oh, there are painkillers in my nightstand. Just be careful with how often you take them.”
“I know how to dose ibuprofen, idiot,” he huffed.
“It’s not ibuprofen,” he said slowly.
“What the hell is it then?”
Deku looked away, laughing uneasily.
“Holy shit, is it legal? You know what? Never mind, I don’t wanna know. Night, Deku. Geez.”
Hopefully, they’d be able to track down whoever’s quirk it was. Deku wasn’t sure how long he could take it. He’d been crushing on Bakugou for longer than he could remember. Maybe it was love at that point. He’d gotten good at keeping it under control and just being friendly with Bakugou, but being stuck in Bakugou’s body made it hard to ignore how perfect he was.
Bakugou’s voice was so smooth when he wasn’t yelling. His skin was spotless, and his body was sculpted like a Greek God. His hair was so soft, and his room was so organized and perfect.
After pissing with his eyes closed, he washed his hands in the sink. He’d seen Bakugou naked countless times over the years in locker rooms, but that was different. Looking down there felt extremely invasive and wrong, so he simply didn’t. He stared at Bakugou’s reflection in the mirror, admiring everything about him. He was so pretty when he wasn’t so grumpy.
“Izuku,” he called out his name softly and then practically fangirled over it. He just called his name in Bakugou’s voice! It sounded so nice!
The All Might shrine wasn’t as bad as it was the last time Bakugou had been in Deku’s room. It had chilled out some. There was still an unhealthy amount of merch in the room, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it once was.
Everything was so loud. It was a bit overwhelming. He could hear every damn step he took and the way his arms brushed against the fabric of his shirt. Why did every little thing have to make a sound? Maybe Bakugou’s hearing was worse than he had thought, or maybe super hearing was another part of One for All.
He recalled Deku complaining about his arms several times over the years, but he never would’ve thought it was actually that bad. He’d been impaled before, and it still hurt. The massage Deku gave him had helped, and he made a mental note to try and do that for Deku the next time he was hurting. Bakugou was trying to be better about showing his love for his friends, but it was different with Deku.
As he got ready for bed, he couldn’t help but admire Deku’s reflection in the mirror. When he washed his face, he noticed something had smudged on his cheek. He wiped it away, and his chest tightened with emotion when he realized Deku had drawn his freckles on. The scar that went down his face went right over where the majority of his freckles used to be. Did Deku put them back every morning?
Why was he getting so emotional about that? It had to have something to do with that stupid quirk. It had to. The heroes would find whoever was behind it, and then everything would be okay again.
He admired the scars along Deku’s arms, proof of his work as a hero. He paused over straight, thin white lines. Tilting his head, he looked at them closer. The marks were hidden by some of the larger, jagged scars, but Bakugou knew what they were.
Oh, Izuku.
As much as he wanted to storm back down the hall and demand answers, it was late, and he was hurting. The marks were also fairly hard to see, which meant they were old. That didn’t make him feel much better, but at least it wasn’t a current issue.
Bakugou woke up to his phone repeatedly buzzing in the middle of the night. By the third time it went off, he snatched the damn thing off the nightstand. Who the hell was blowing up his phone so late?
Bakugou sighed. Unfortunately, it was normal. Fuck, when did they get so many problems? Originally, it had been a huge issue right after it had happened. His body was still adjusting to all the stress it had been under, and most nights, he’d wake up with crazy chest pain and a racing heart. As time passed, the little episodes went away, but he still got them occasionally.
A few minutes went by with no reply, and he was about to fall back asleep before Deku texted again.
As much as he wanted to be pissed at Deku for waking him up for something so harmless, he understood the panic. The first time it had happened to Bakugou, he thought he was dying all over again. He managed to drag himself to Aizawa, damn near in tears. Not one of his proudest moments.
He didn’t bother texting back as he headed out the door. There was little to no pain as he took the stairs, and he wondered what type of pain meds Deku actually had. He assumed Deku had been joking when he started acting nervous about the medication, but when he saw the label was blacked out, he was a little concerned.
“Deku-kun, what are you doing up so late?”
“Hah? I’m not—” Wait, he literally was Deku. “Ah, Uraka-san! I was—I was just getting a sip of water.” There was an art to timing the stutter.
“On the fourth floor?”
“I wanted to stretch my legs first. It helps with insomnia.” Bakugou had no idea if that was even true, but Pink Cheeks seemed to believe it.
“Oh, alright then. Goodnight, Deku,” she called softly over her shoulder as she turned the corner of the hallway.
“Goodnight,” he called back sweetly. Once she was gone, his smile dropped back to his usual scowl. Deku was so overly friendly. Yuck.
He pushed the door open to his dorm room and immediately spotted himself (Deku) on the bed. His back was pressed against the headboard, and his knees were to his chest, as Bakugou had instructed.
The room smelled strongly of burnt sugar, and ew, was that what he smelled like to other people? It wasn’t necessarily a bad smell, but it wasn’t a pleasant one either.
“Am I gonna die?” he panted. “Are you gonna die? It hurts.”
“Easy,” he tried his best to sound soothing. It came out a lot easier in Deku’s voice. “I know it hurts. It’s normal, okay? Sometimes, my heart just decides to flip out. It’s fucking terrifying. Believe me, I know, but nothing is actually wrong.”
“This can’t be normal.”
“Nothing that happened to me that day was normal,” he pointed out. “It’s gonna pass. You just need to wait it out. Breathe, or you’ll make it worse.”
Prying Deku’s hands away from his chest, he used the blanket to wipe them off. Explosive sweat and panic were not a good combination. They were lucky that Deku hadn’t blown up the entire room by then.
Once he felt like Deku was no longer a literal ticking bomb, he pushed his hand against his chest. “Feel that? It’s beating fast as hell, but it’s still beating, and that’s not gonna stop.” That was what Aizawa had said to him that first night, and just that simple fact had been enough to snap him out of his panic. It seemed to have the same effect on Deku.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood by Deku’s side, steadily holding his hand against his chest, but eventually, Deku stopped gasping for air and relaxed.
“You done?” Bakugou asked quietly.
“Yeah, think so. That—that was… You deal with that often?”
“Not so often anymore, but right after the injury first happened, yeah,” he admitted, and it didn’t feel as bad as he thought it would to share that.
“I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“The first time it happened, I called Aizawa, panicking the same way you just did.”
“Really?’ Deku looked up at him.
“Yeah, I did.” They fell into another comfortable silence, their hands still joined. Neither one of them made a move to pull away.
Bakugou felt like he had a deeper understanding of Deku since the whole thing happened. He’d known Deku for his entire life, yet they both had a new, deeper understanding of each other that night.
“Your bed sucks. I’m sleeping in my own damn bed,” Bakugou declared.
“Kacchan, what if someone sees you— me leave in the morning.”
“So? I don’t care what any of those extras think. I already ran into Pink Cheeks on the way here.” He flopped down on his stomach, sighing as he sunk down on the mattress.
“You did?”
“Yeah, she probably thinks you’ve gone insane,” he snorted.
“Great.”
After a moment, Deku slid back under the covers, resigning himself to his fate. As exhausted as Bakugou was, there was still something on his mind. He had been planning on waiting to ask Deku, but since he was right there, he might as well get it over with.
“Hey, Izuku?”
“Yeah?”
Bakugou turned his head just enough to look over at Deku. “Tell me what these are.” He extended his arm out, but he was pretty sure Deku already knew what he was referring to.
Deku chewed on his lip nervously as he ran his thumb over the scars.
“Stop that. If you make my lip bleed, I’ll kill you,” he huffed.
“I think you know,” Deku eventually said, not looking away from the lines.
“I need to hear you say it. Are these self-inflicted?” Please say no. Please say no.
“Yes.”
Damn it.
“When?”
“Middle school.”
At least it had been a while ago. Bakugou felt relieved, and then immediately tensed up when he realized who had been at the root of Deku’s torment in middle school.
“It’s not your fault,” he said as if he could read Bakugou’s mind. “You were the least of my problems back then. I just… I faced a lot of hate for being quirkless, and as much as I brushed it off, it got to a certain point where I just couldn’t anymore.”
Words had never been his strong suit. What was he even supposed to say in that situation anyway? Doing what he thought was right, he pulled Deku into his arms. The man went willingly, letting Bakugou hold him tightly against his chest.
They managed to track down the culprit. It turned out to be a complete, honest accident. The woman was young, in her early twenties, and she had no idea she had activated her quirk when she crashed into them. She apologized profusely and switched the two back.
Deku hadn’t realized how much he missed being able to hear clearly until he heard the familiar sound of the AC units. Having One for All back was a comforting feeling. He hadn’t realized the quirk even had a distinct feeling until it was gone.
It hadn't been a whole twenty-four hours, but he had still missed his body.
“Talk about a crazy experience,” Deku sighed as they walked down the hallway.
“Do you think Hatsume does hearing aids?” Bakugou asked, completely ignoring his question.
“Kacchan,” Deku sighed, but then he thought it over. “You know what? I’m sure she’d be happy to help you out with that.”
“Not for me!” he said defensively. “I was just curious. That’s all.”
“Alright.” He shook his head fondly.