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"So, Midoriya, you'll be graduating with your students."
"Sounds like I’ve been held back for years..."
"Tch, you have been. Tuk you long e’nough."
"Well, to Bakugo shonen, it does seem that way."
The familiar sight of the faculty lounge, filled with faces from the past. Shota Aizawa leaned lazily against the sofa’s armrest, while All Might sat nestled in his wheelchair, his lower back supported by a stack of cushions. They were a gift from a certain blond problem child from his past—none other than Katsuki Bakugo, who was standing right in front of him.
Watching the two young men seated on the couch, it was impossible not to recall the days when their relationship was far more strained. According to Midoriya Izuku, their hostility lasted for years. Yet, time had passed, and in All Might’s memory, the sight of them sitting shoulder to shoulder had somehow become the norm.
"I feel kind of bad... UA gave me such a great opportunity, and yet..." Midoriya smiled wryly, but before he could finish, All Might let out a wistful "Midoriya shonen..." while Bakugo, clearly fed up, snapped, "Oi, you—!"
"Yes! Thank you! I know! I earned it myself!" Midoriya hastily corrected himself, his voice cracking slightly toward the end, betraying a trace of youthful nervousness. Aizawa chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re definitely one of the most stubborn students I’ve ever had."
"I thought I was one of the easier ones..."
"Hey, you dun’t think I can hear what you’re implying?" Bakugo scoffed, arms crossed, and elbowed the person beside him—though he was considerate enough to hold back, ensuring Midoriya didn't fall off the couch. Perched on the edge of his seat, Midoriya let out an exasperated, "Kacchan..." before All Might finally steered the conversation back on track.
"Well! If you two take over, I can finally retire in peace."
Many people who had once been lost, nearly straying down the wrong path, had found purpose thanks to All Might. He had given them jobs at his agency, allowing them to assist with simple tasks. Though he had considered shutting it down entirely, seeing his old comrades break down in tears at the thought had made it impossible for him to follow through. But funding his operations had drained a significant portion of his savings, and with everything now running on his pension, it was clear this wasn't a sustainable plan.
"Did you think your agency was a shelter? Look at this mess you're leaving behind." Even when addressing his former idol, Bakugo was as blunt as ever. It had always been their problem—this master and student duo. The weight of ideals too grand to bear, the relentless struggle to shoulder everything alone.
"All Might’s agency is not a shelter!" Midoriya the big fan, unable to let such a statement slide, protested. He then pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger. "But we do need a better plan. I didn't expect the person handling paperwork to struggle with something as simple as changing the font color in a presentation. We need to improve our training program. First, let's create a chart outlining everyone's quirks and skill sets. If anyone is truly unfit for the job, we should help them transition into a more suitable role. I have a bit more free time now that I’m no longer a homeroom teacher, but we should avoid overloading Kacchan with—"
"Light as a feather, you damn nerd!"
Ah, so he could tolerate all of Midoriya’s rambling, but that last part was too much. Aizawa’s lips curved slightly. Now that he no longer had to keep official watch over them as students, he could enjoy the rare entertainment of observing Class A’s childhood friends interact.
"Wait, don’t you still have car payments to make?"
"I paid that off last month, you idiot!"
"For real...?" Midoriya blurted out, easily derailed by Bakugo’s unexpected financial milestone. Even after nearly twenty years of knowing him, he still found himself marveling at Bakugo’s toughness.
"Let’s wrap this up. All Might’s about to doze off."
"Ah, sorry..." The man who once bore the world’s burdens as its Symbol of Peace had fought another victim of time’s relentless march. Even staying awake was becoming a challenge. Midoriya quickly packed his bag, bidding farewell to Aizawa before leaving with Bakugo.
Slumping into the car’s backseat with All Might, Midoriya let out a yawn of his own.
It had been ten years since the final war. When Midoriya envisioned his future, teaching was the career that had always stood at the forefront. Once he had plunged into this new world, his own aspirations had naturally taken a backseat. Until the day All Might placed new armor suit in Midoriya’s hands... What happened after that?
It started with Bakugo’s constant teasing. Then, one day, Bakugo had taken on a special lecturer role, and Aizawa had casually brought up their old Beta Grounds fight. Who won then? Bakugo had scoffed, saying, "Obviously was me."
Of course, there was no doubt that Bakugo had won that day, but what they had gained went beyond victory and defeat. Midoriya hadn’t argued back, yet for some reason, he felt oddly unsatisfied.
The students had mistaken his expression for resentment and began egging them on for a rematch. Even Aizawa had granted them special permission. Midoriya hesitated—his suit was meant for saving people, not for something like this. But Bakugo saw right through him. "It’s yours. Use it however you want. Or don’t. We’ll fight hand-to-hand. If you win, you owe me a favor. Deal?"
Wasn’t the winner supposed to decide the reward...? And was this even a reward? Midoriya chuckled to himself.
But Bakugo had never once asked him for help before.
By the time he realized it, his jacket was off, sleeves rolled up. They exchanged blows, and before he knew it, Bakugo had his legs locked around Midoriya’s waist, flipping him over in a dramatic takedown. The students cheered. Midoriya scrambled to counter, rolling to the side before lunging back into the fight. He wanted students to see Bakugo’s every move—his muscle control, his balance, his flexibility...
Wait, no. Bakugo wasn’t someone you could afford to get distracted against. Just as that thought crossed Midoriya’s mind, Bakugo’s fist struck his jaw. A feint—what seemed like a forward attack had turned into an uppercut. The same move Midoriya had once used in training. Stunned, he pressed a hand to his chin, both to soothe the pain and to keep his mouth from hanging open in shock.
Bakugo grinned down at him, pressed a palm to his face, and said, "Boom. I win."
That night, over dinner, Bakugo critiqued Midoriya’s movements, teasing that he must have regressed to thinking he only needed to watch out for right hooks. Midoriya was too embarrassed to admit that anything involving Bakugo tended to throw him off his game. After taking notes on the feedback, he hesitated before finally asking, "If I had won, what would you have wanted me to do? If you need help with something, you can just—"
"Shut up. Dun’t mess with the rules."
Midoriya had no choice but to dig for answers elsewhere.He privately asked Kirishima if Bakugo had been facing any difficulties lately. On the other end of the call, Kirishima let out a long, knowing "Aaaah~" before saying, "Sorry, Midoriya, I can't tell you. If you really want to know, then man up and beat him fair and square first!"
Just as Midoriya was considering turning to Kaminari for answers, his phone buzzed with a message from Bakugo—an unmistakable hint of Kirishima’s betrayal.
" not so damn troubled that need you worrying about."
Left with no other choice, they started go out for meals… and for fights. Curiosity, once teased, grew into competitiveness, and eventually, his armor suit saw action.
Finally, there came a time when Bakugo scoffed, "Hah, next time, I’m taking my win back."
Accepting his loss, he told Midoriya that he wanted to discuss buying out All Might’s agency but just couldn’t find the time.
"You’re good at analyzing, aren’t you? Plan it out for me."
Not long after establishing his own agency, Bakugo was already considering an acquisition. And not just any obscure firm—it had to be the legendary All Might’s agency.
"That’s just like Kacchan," Midoriya thought, chuckling as he said, "So that’s why you need a sidekick."
For what felt like the hundredth time, his childhood friend warned him not to bring that up again.
To discuss the details of this grand acquisition, their routine meals and sparring sessions were soon joined by Midoriya’s frequent visits to Bakugo’s agency. Notebooks filled with his handwriting began appearing in the filing cabinets. He even started bringing work from school, though Bakugo was the last person who’d ever help with paperwork. He had his own pile of headaches to deal with. Still, when Midoriya was on the verge of passing out, Bakugo would catch his head before it hit the desk. If they ended up working too late, he’d toss a blanket over him and make a cup of hot cocoa, letting Midoriya crash in the meeting room with him.
During a long weekend, they made a trip back home. Bakugo’s father, a man who rarely made his presence known, invited the Midoriya family over for dinner. Inko thanked Katsuki for taking such good care of her son, but Mitsuki waved her off. "Don’t say that. They’ve known each other forever—if anything, our kid still owes yours."
Then Inko smiled and said, "I’m just happy to see how close they’ve become."
Mitsuki agreed, completely ignoring the mild awkwardness of the two people in question. She went on to reminisce about how, at four years old, Midoriya had tried to apply to "Bakugo’s Agency" while trailing after him.
"Tch. Annoying," Bakugo muttered before focusing on his food—just in time to dodge Mitsuki’s incoming smack.
Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "What was it you wanted to do at my agency again?"
Was that supposed to be a jab? Midoriya sighed. But the warmth of the dinner table made it easy to answer. He didn’t sit up straight with pride, but at least it was no longer difficult to say aloud.
"Of course, I want to be a pro hero too."
Bakugo scoffed. "Not 'too.' You always wanted that, with or without me."
Mitsuki nodded. "Even now, I still picture it sometimes."
Midoriya blinked, confused. Why imagine something that had already come true?
Perhaps this was the start of something new.
What began as a few hesitant steps had stretched into years of endless footprints, carving a path up the mountainside. And at the summit, he found he gazing at the same view with Bakugo.
Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence.
Perhaps, from the very beginning, the presence of that one person had always shone like a guiding star.
"We’re here," Bakugo said, catching Midoriya’s gaze in the rearview mirror. He grabbed All Might’s wheelchair from the trunk while Midoriya helped him into it. As Bakugo wheeled him inside, Midoriya settled into the passenger seat.
"I really made a crazy decision."
"Tch—wanting to be a hero and a teacher isn’t weird."
"Haha... But you wanted me to quit teaching, didn’t you? We compromised—just lectures, no homeroom."
"Yeah, yeah."
Midoriya smiled.
Maybe he had just gotten a little greedier. He mulled over his own changes. Ever since his vague thoughts had come full circle and condensed into the realization that he actually did want to be a pro hero, the first person he reached out to was his very first real friend—Uraraka Ochako.
At that time, she had just returned from taking her parents on an overseas trip and had handed Midoriya a box of souvenirs. Her flushed cheeks and smiling eyes gave her a gentle, glowing aura.
“Uraraka also said, ‘If you want to do both, why not just do both? Deku, you can definitely do it.’"
"I never said that."
"But Kacchan, you actually think the same, don’t you? Thanks."
"Tch. Just do your best."
"Yeah, I’ll catch up to you soon."
"You’ve got some nerve, huh?"
"Oh, can we stop by that store? They have an All Might lottery."
Bakugo Katsuki clicked his tongue in annoyance. What, was he really a taxi driver now?
Still, he followed Midoriya inside. Not long ago, this guy had been talking about saving money, yet now he had no hesitation throwing in ten, twenty draws. The store owner recognized them immediately, pulling out a signature board and handing it to Midoriya before eagerly looking at him to pass it to Bakugo.
Having his personal time interrupted was annoying. On any other day, he would have ignored it completely. But thinking about the half-price discount, Bakugo begrudgingly signed his name.
"Nowhere else to go?"
"Nope. Home’s out of the way, right? Just drop me off at the corner where we had oden last time."
"It’s not that much of a detour."
"Kacchan, thanks."
"You better learn to drive."
"Alright, alright."
Midoriya turned his gaze toward the window. The night was calm, the stars shining bright. A dream, once shattered and left in pieces, was slowly reforming. And someone was there, helping him piece together the fragments of his crystal ball.
He turned to stare at Bakugo’s profile for a moment before suddenly saying, "Sorry, Kacchan… Can we drive around a little longer?"
Bakugo didn’t answer. He just pressed the gas pedal, heading toward the seaside park.
They enjoyed these quiet moments of unspoken understanding, unaware that this, too, was another beginning.