Chapter Text
It’s an unassuming day when it happens. Really, Bakugo thinks it should’ve been more remarkable. Maybe raining or some shit like it does in the movies. But no. It’s an ordinary, sunny day. Just like any other.
Bakugo is three months into his fresh job as a sidekick at Endeavor’s agency, having been hired straight after graduating from UA. He’s nineteen now and well on his way to achieving his dream of becoming the number one hero.
He’s got a small two-bedroom apartment in the city that’s already starting to feel like home. It’s got an open floor plan and large floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room that lead out to a tiny balcony housing a single chair and a small side table. Of the bedrooms, one acts as his bedroom while the other functions as an at-home gym of sorts complete with a squat rack and a lat pulldown machine, both being a graduation gift from his parents.
But the thing that had drawn him to this apartment in particular was the fantastic kitchen set up. It came with an island with the sink inlaid in it instead of along the wall, which was the superior way to design a kitchen. The appliances included were brand new, a product of these apartments having only just been built, and were top of the line brands. The expensive choice in appliances had definitely affected the monthly price, but Bakugo could afford it on a hero’s salary and that was what mattered. He’d already fallen in love with actually using the kitchen, finding cooking his dinner and meal-prepping a lot more enjoyable now that he had it.
He’s in the middle of doing just that when his phone rings. He scowls and answers it without checking who it is, tossing it onto the counter on speaker so he could continue putting together his lunch for the next day. “What,” he bites out aggressively as he picks up the knife and begins slicing the cucumber on the cutting board into thin strips to include in the spicy sushi he’s making.
It’s Deku’s voice who greets him on the other end of the line. He sounds… worried. “Hi, Kacchan. Um… Are you busy?”
Bakugo groans. He doesn’t have the energy to decipher whatever it is his miserable nerd of a best friend is concerned about. “I’m talking to you, aren’t I? Just spit it out. What do you want.” It’s not a question. It’s a demand to get on with it already.
“Um. Yeah, okay… You remember back in first year? When we did some agency training on Nabu Island?” Deku continues a little anxiously.
Bakugo thinks back. A lot happened back in their first year at UA, a lot more than had happened for other classes. But the incident at Nabu Island was a big one. The island had been attacked by four strong villains with only the then Class 1A there to defend the residents. It had escalated into a huge battle that had nearly every student in the class injured in some way, but they had won without a single civilian getting hurt. Although, after waking when the battle was over, Bakugo couldn’t for the life of him remember just how it was that they’d emerged victorious. He huffs out a breath and sets the sliced cucumber aside and replaces it with an avocado. “Yeah, what about it?” He really wishes that Deku would just get to the point already.
“Well…” Deku doesn’t speak for a moment, but from the shuffling on the other line, Bakugo can tell he’s fidgeting nervously with the silicone charging port cover on his phone case. His scowl deepens. He hates it when Deku does that. Not because he cares that Deku is damaging his case, but because he always manages to do it while he’s on the phone. And the stupid piece of silicone is located right over the fucking mic. It gets annoying real fast.
“Oi. Nerd. Hands off of your stupid phone case.”
As soon as Deku’s reminded of what he’s doing, the sound stops. Bakugo finishes cutting the avocado as Deku apologises. The blonde rolls his eyes and grabs the next ingredient.
“So… You remember Katsuma and Mahoro, then?” Deku continues. Bakugo can practically see his uneasy expression and the irritation at Deku for not getting to the fucking point rises.
“The snot-nosed brats that faked a villain attack? Yeah, I remember. Does this trip down memory lane have a fucking point, Deku ?” he grouses in annoyance, snarling around the nickname as if it were a curse. Nowadays, he normally referred to the other as Izuku, a sign of the respect he’d earned from the blonde. Except for times like these when the man is stomping on every last one of his nerves.
A short silence greets him as Deku seems to collect his thoughts. Then he sighs. “Their father got into an accident yesterday. He… He didn’t make it,” Deku announces, voice warbling slightly like he was about to cry. And knowing Deku, he probably is.
Bakugo’s hand stops mid-slice. That was… unexpected. He doesn’t really know what he was supposed to have expected, but it certainly wasn’t that. He lets the information process for a moment. He hadn’t really known their father, but he had gotten to know Mahoro and Katsuma pretty well during the island’s reconstruction. The former more than the latter. Mahoro had somehow gained an admiration for the explosive young hero and had followed him around like a lost duckling for days, much to his supposed annoyance. But she’d definitely grown on him. Not that he’ll admit that to anyone.
She has to be… what? Twelve now? Twelve and orphaned. It makes an unfamiliar and wholly unpleasant feeling curl into his stomach. He swallows. “Why are you telling me?” he asks, the previous annoyance melting away with the seriousness of the topic.
Deku’s voice is shaky and, yep, he is definitely crying now. “Mrs. Suzumura called me a little bit ago. She wants you and me to come out to the island for the wake. She said it might help Katsuma and Mahoro to see us again,” he replies.
This doesn’t surprise Bakugo. After all, Katsuma had grown just as close to Deku as Mahoro had to Bakugo. Even though it has been a little over two years since they’d last seen each other, he is sure the two kids still look up to them both. Hell, they’ve probably been watching their hero careers on TV this whole time.
“Okay,” he says simply. He doesn’t need time to think about it. Mahoro is probably going through hell emotionally right now and if he can help, he would. Even though he absolutely sucks ass at comforting people.
Deku sounds surprised at his swift answer. “O-Okay?”
Bakugo gives an annoyed groan. “I don’t really have a choice. You’re going, right? If you go and I don’t, that little fangirl will just feel worse,” he remarks, making it out to be against his will. Though the truth couldn’t be further off. “When’s the wake?”
“Tomorrow. I was gonna catch a boat there tonight,” Deku answers through the speaker of Bakugo’s phone, sounding less tearful now.
Bakugo hums and lays out some rice on the bamboo sushi rolling sheet. This had just changed from meal prep for lunch tomorrow to his dinner. “Text me the details and buy me a ticket.”
Deku makes an offended noise at that. “Why can’t you buy your own ticket?”
“I can ,” Bakugo replies, laying the rest of the ingredients on the rice. “But you owe me for saving your ass the day before yesterday. Twice .”
“Okay, fine,” Deku relents grumpily. Bakugo smirks to himself at his victory and quickly finishes rolling the sushi, cutting it into even sized pieces. “I’ll text you. And Kacchan?”
“Hm?”
“Thanks for this. You’re doing a good thing.”
Bakugo bristles at the genuine words, still unused to being praised like that. “Yeah, whatever. Hanging up now.”
Deku seems to accept his fate, saying nothing more before Bakugo jabs his thumb into the end call button. He sighs heavily and leans on the counter, letting his head hang down between his shoulders limply as he closes his eyes. This next week is going to be hard on him emotionally. It normally takes a lot to move him given that he isn’t a particularly emotional man. He isn’t like Deku. But Mahoro? Seeing her any kind of upset? Yeah, that would probably do it.
He doesn’t understand it himself. Sure, he’d grown to like the kid, but why does just hearing that she was in pain have such ugly feelings swirling in his chest? He doesn’t feel like this about Katsuma, so he knows he isn’t just getting soft. But even still…
He straightens with a deep inhale and plates his sushi with a pair of chopsticks and leans his hip against the counter to eat right there. After he finishes, he’ll have to pack a bag. He’s pretty sure his suit is still clean and hanging in its protective bag. He’s only worn it once, to a banquet held in a Class A’s honour just before they graduated. The whole thing had been annoying and Bakugo had only gone to get Kirishima off his ass. This will be the second time he’ll be wearing the sleek tailored black suit and it couldn’t have been for a sadder reason.
He swallows his bite of milder than usual sushi. Okay. He can do this.
****
He packs his bag in record time, filling it with enough outfits to last a week at the least. The suit finds its way into a separate garment bag his mother had made him take when he moved out. He hasn’t really thought that he’d need it until now.
He checks his phone. Deku has sent him a few messages since their phone call earlier. One is a screenshot of his ticket, complete with the barcode he’d need to have scanned upon boarding. The rest are the details he’d need. They’d be leaving at 8:30pm. He looks at the time. That was in an hour.
He keeps reading. Deku has managed to secure lodging for them both with one of the villagers they’d saved back then. Apparently it would be with Mrs. Suzumura’s neighbour, a kind older man called Kenji. He had a guest room already set up with two twin beds, so it turned out pretty perfect for them. Bakugo turns his nose up at the idea of sharing a room with Deku. His best friend was a terrible sleep-talker while Bakugo was a light sleeper. He definitely needs to pack some earplugs if he wants to get any sleep during this week.
Then Deku goes on in the messages to give the address for the port they’d be leaving from and a couple other random bits of information that definitely doesn’t matter as much. Bakugo locks his phone and slips it into his pocket. He does a last minute check of his belongings, slipping the aforementioned ear plugs into a side pocket. He’s got clothes, toiletries, his suit and his hero costume, just in case something happens. Then he’s also packed his tablet so he could still do some hero work while he was away, not wanting to come back to a mess of paperwork on his desk.
Satisfied, he grabs the bags and heads out the door, locking his apartment behind him. Then he makes the forty minute commute to the port, meeting Deku at the gate.
Deku flashes him a small smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He doesn’t return it. They both wordlessly stand in line to board the ship, hearts troubled with the situation at hand. Neither has to say a word to know the other is worried about these kids. What’s going to happen to them now? Surely they have somewhere to go after all this wake business is over.
They both flash their tickets to the attendant who scans them and lets them on the ferry. They go to the private cabin Deku booked for the several hour long trip. Inside are two twin sized western-styled beds, a tiny desk, and a door leading to a small bathroom. Bakugo puts his bags on the floor beside the closer bed and plops down onto it, laying back with one leg hanging off the edge and the other bent at the knee and foot planted on the mattress.
Deku rolls his eyes fondly at his friend’s nonchalance and follows his lead, putting his things away before curling up to get a nap on the other bed as well.
Bakugo rests inconsistently, the rocking of the boat and Deku’s sleeptalking waking him up every twenty minutes or so. He gives up after a couple hours and silently slips out of the room to explore the ship a little. They’ve still got at least four more hours to their trip and most of the passengers were also trying to get some shuteye, so he moves quietly.
It doesn’t take him long to reach the upper deck and he takes a deep breath of the salty air. It smells refreshing and grounding in a way. He approaches the railing and gazes out at the black expanse of sea. The ocean isn’t terribly turbulent right now, the waves small, but still enough to rock the boat side to side. Bakugo puts his chin on top of his hands where they grip the railing and just watches.
Like this, it feels like he exists in a space outside of reality. Nothing exists except for him, the boat and the water. He looks up. And the stars, he guesses. They look incredibly bright out here with so little light pollution. Hard to imagine that all those little lights up there are powerful explosions millions of light-years away.
“Kacchan?”
Bakugo is drawn from his aimless thinking by Deku’s voice not too far behind him. He straightens and turns back to find Deku approaching him, eyeing him quizzically. “What are you doing out here?” the nerd asks.
Bakugo shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep over the sound of you sleep-analysing All Might again,” he answers in a deadpan voice.
Deku blushes a dark pink colour. “S-Sorry about that…” His hand comes up to rub at his neck as he comes to stand beside the blonde.
Bakugo shrugs again, this time dismissively. “Eh, it’s whatever.” He eyes Deku up and down carefully. “Why are you out here?”
Deku looks out at the ocean and takes a deep breath, mimicking Bakugo’s action from earlier. He rests his elbows on the rail. “Nightmare,” he replies simply. He doesn’t need to say more than that. Both he and Bakugo had suffered from nightmares to a somewhat frequent extent after the events of the War two years ago.
He can easily guess what this one was about. Deku had recently lost the last of the embers of One For All and lost his dream of becoming a pro hero. He’d been hired on as a teacher at UA despite his now quirkless nature and is now passing on all his hero analysis knowledge onto his students. And Bakugo knows Deku would never complain about it, but he misses saving others in the field. His nightmares now likely revolve around being quirkless again and something going wrong. Of not being able to save the day like he used to do.
Of course mixed in were nightmares that were just straight up memories from the War with details changed. Bakugo knows that a lot of them had to do with him dying. He had to comfort Deku a lot during high school when those sorts of dreams came up. Nowadays they are less frequent, but still there all the same.
Bakugo’s own nightmares centre around a similar topic, images conjured from the War mingling with false memories. He’s since forgiven himself for being the reason All Might had to fight All For One and ended up losing his powers, but even that appears in his dreams. The powerful guilt associated with being that perceived cause manifests itself in dreams about All Might getting injured or killed because he couldn’t protect himself with a well-placed smash. Those ones are the ones he wakes from panic-googling recent villain attacks to make sure All Might wasn’t really targeted. Calling the former pro would probably be easier, but Bakugo refuses to acknowledge to anyone that he actually cares about them. So searching has to do.
He breathes out a sigh and turns back to look at the ocean waves again. He and Deku don’t speak for a while, content to just observe the shifting water together. They don’t know quite what they’re going to be walking into tomorrow at the wake and they both find their minds drifting to the pair of kids. They wonder idly if they’re sleeping right now. If they’re even able to sleep knowing that their father still won’t be there when they wake up.
Bakugo clears his throat after a moment. He hadn't had a chance to ask earlier, but he probably should now before they actually arrive. “So… Their dad. How did it happen?” His tone is purposefully lighter than usual, knowing the topic was sensitive.
Deku grimaces. “It… I…” He can’t seem to form the words to explain the situation. Bakugo knows what that means. The accident must’ve been pretty severe then. “Here, just-” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone with its stupid All Might case. He types something in and scrolls for just a second before wordlessly handing the device to the blonde.
Bakugo takes it gently. He’s almost afraid to read the article Deku has pulled up on his phone; Deku not being able to talk about it really wasn’t a good sign at all. But he does anyway, knowing that if he was going to help Mahoro - and Katsuma, he guesses - he’d need to know exactly what happened.
Tragedy Strikes Nabu Island!
On the morning of June 12th, a great tragedy occurred on Nabu Island, a small rural island several hours off the mainland of Japan with a population of around 1,000. Around 9am at Nabu General Hospital, a devastating explosion rocked the building’s west wing, destroying several floors of the structure and resulting in at least 30 known casualties and 48 injuries. Local fire response teams were able to quickly put out the resulting flames, but the damage done is extensive. Our sources suggest that the cause of the explosion was a malfunction in the oxygen supply system. It is still being investigated just exactly what that malfunction was…
Bakugo doesn’t need to read more. He brings a hand up to cover his mouth, eyebrows twitching as he processes the new information. An explosion. Being an expert in all things explosive, he knows all too well just how horrible this accident was. His own explosions have never killed; he hasn’t ever let off one strong enough to do that kind of thing, despite popular opinion. But he knows they can. And an explosion in an oxygen supply system? Just forget walking out of that one. “Damn,” he mutters, lowering the phone but not quite handing it back off to Deku just yet.
Deku nods solemnly. Silence settles around them again, broken only by the soft, repetitious sound of the waves crashing against the side of the ferry. After a moment, Deku looks over and, seeing that Bakugo isn’t even looking down at the borrowed phone anymore, he gently extracts it from the blonde’s fingers. Bakugo barely notices, too busy grimacing and letting the information turn over in his head.
An explosion took their dad.
And now he was going to see them. The explosive hero, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Would they even want to see him? Won’t he just… trigger them or some shit?
His grimace twists further. A fact that didn’t escape Deku’s keen eye. “Kacchan? Talk to me,” the teacher urges softly, looking at Bakugo in that annoyingly caring way that only Deku could.
Bakugo doesn’t answer him for a second, trying to straighten out his thoughts. He isn’t the kind of guy who should be doing this kind of thing anyway. He is aggressive and gruff and just overall not comforting. Why is he doing this? Because of that weird itch under his skin? The itch that just gets worse when he thinks about Mahoro being in pain? Why is it even there? And now that he knows just how the kids had lost their only living parent… he feels like he’s just going to make things worse.
“...Is this really okay?” he asks gruffly. He doesn’t look at Deku, his gaze dropping to where his hands - his weapons - are gripping the rail so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.
Deku tilts his head, clearly not understanding what his friend means. “Is what okay?” His green eyes are open and concerned, almost as if he is trying to convey that Bakugo could trust him with his gaze alone.
And because Bakugo is well aware that he can trust the other, he relents with a sigh, closing his eyes and letting his head droop ever so slightly. “ This . Coming with you. To help those kids. I…” He takes a shuddering breath and just decides to spit it out, his shoulders coming up to his ears defensively as he tenses. “I’m the goddamn explosion hero, Izuku. What if me being there… I don’t know! I just don’t want to re-traumatise the little shits or something…”
Deku just looks at Bakugo for a moment, but the blonde stubbornly refuses to meet his eyes. He knows what he’ll find there and he doesn’t want to see that right now. A reassuring hand comes to rest on Bakugo’s bicep. He still doesn’t move.
“You’re not your quirk, Kacchan.” The hand on his arm rubs at his skin in a comforting gesture, drawing a soothing circle with a thumb. He wants to smack it away. But he doesn’t, letting Deku talk. “I know Katsuma and Mahoro see you for you, okay? They’ll be over the moon that you came too. Explosions or no.”
Bakugo grit his teeth. Realistically, he knows Deku is right. But he can’t help but worry about it a little. Doing something like this for someone else was so foreign to him. He just… “I don’t want to make it worse,” he whispers quietly.
“You won’t,” Deku reassures. And this time, Bakugo does turn his head just enough to look at the other’s face. He expected to see anxious uncertainty, so he’s a little surprised to find confident surety instead. Deku’s eyes are firm and his mouth is set in a thin line, quirked upwards on one corner in a tiny smile.
Bakugo searches the expression for even the tiniest hint of doubt or incertitude, but he finds nothing. So he looks away again, back down at his hands, and nods. Alright then. If Deku is confident that everything would be fine with him there, then he’ll just have to trust him. After all, he’s the one more in touch with emotion and how other people feel. Bakugo hasn’t ever really understood people as well.
They stay there for a while longer, watching the ocean and feeling the light spray of saltwater against their skin. They are definitely going to need to shower when they arrive, if Bakugo’s already tangling salt-laden hair is anything to go by. His skin is starting to feel a little dehydrated from it all and he eventually sighs again and pushes off the railing. “Come on, nerd. Let’s at least try to get some more sleep before we get there.”
****
It’s a little after three in the morning when they finally arrive at Nabu Island. Bakugo has managed to get about an hour straight of sleep, which is a miracle in and of itself considering he still hasn’t broken out his earplugs. He and Deku collect their bags and begin to disembark, Deku’s eyes trained on his phone as he shoots a one-handed text to Kenji letting him know they’ve arrived and will be heading over shortly.
Nabu Island isn’t terribly big and most of the town is situated near the harbour, so Deku and Bakugo just walk to the house. The night air is warm with the remnants of the heat of the day, feeling very much like summer. Cicadas sing in the trees as they walk quietly yet again. This is probably the quietest Bakugo has ever heard Deku. Normally, the nerd is mumbling about something under his breath, whether it be fanboying about heroes or analysing quirks. So it’s odd and a little unsettling to be met with silence instead.
But he doesn’t try to break the quiet. He wouldn’t know what to say even if he wanted to. So they make the twenty minute walk with only the noise of nocturnal insects to break through their thoughts.
Kenji’s house is modest like most of the village houses. It’s two stories and painted a calming soft blue tone with a white trim around the windows and the front porch. Twin hydrangea bushes mark the sides of the front steps and a small brown mat reading welcome sits against the bottom of the door. Deku raps on the door politely and they wait tiredly for the older man to answer.
When the door swings open, it reveals a very tired looking old man with graying hair and canyons through his face. He smiles wearily at them. “Come in. It’s good to see you again. I wish it was under better circumstances,” he greets somberly, making way for the two heroes to enter.
Deku bows respectfully and Bakugo gives his equivalent of a bow in the form of a nod. He isn’t much on giving respect out of obligation, preferring to give it when properly earned in his own eyes. But for now, he’d play nice.
Kenji leads them through the house and to a small bedroom that barely fits the two twin beds it houses. Bakugo would almost rather sleep on a futon. The man wishes them goodnight and leaves them to get settled, which they do quietly. The reason for their visit is never fully forgotten, always hanging over them like a shadow. It makes the mood uncomfortably silent.