Chapter Text
It must be less than ten minutes after the villains disappeared. All might is gone somewhere, evaporated like smoke. Aizawa Sensei has been rushed to Recovery Girl. So was Deku, the fucking moron nearly got himself killed. And for what? All Might had that –what had they called it? A Nomu? –The Nomu handled.
Katsuki is dripping in nitroglycerin, like, dripping. He really has to do a redesign of his costume, it wouldn't be feasible to walk around like this next time. Maybe something less absorbent. Maybe a nylon blend?
He knows he’s grinning, he can’t help it. He’s fucking thrilled. He got to beat some villains senseless. Granted they were small fries, but a fight is a fight where Katsuki is concerned. He supposed the redhead he got dropped with didn’t do too bad either.
The other heroes, the staff, are rounding up the villains efficiently. But all they have to do is drag unconscious bodies from where Katsuki got dumped. He may have gone a little overboard, so what. All in all, it's over. It’s handled.
Some of his classmates are giggling, a little hysterical. Katsuki would smack them if it wouldn’t send the building up in flames. He takes a step away from the group, friction is not his friend right now. One wayward spark and several, several people are getting hurt.
Present Mic is in front of them. He looks grim, Katsuki would be too if he had just watched his partner get beaten bloody, lips pressed together thinly. Husband, maybe, Katsuki hasn’t figured out exactly what Present Mic and Aizawa’s relationship is. Yet.
When he speaks, it's clipped. Short.
“You handled yourselves well,” He pauses to watch someone pull three more half-dead villains from the rubble Katsuki left them in. “Well— class is cancelled for the day. Go home.”
Katsuki watches his classmates deflate a little. Like they wanted a cookie or something for not dying. It’s pathetic, really.
They slump off, supporting hands grip shoulders. Shaky voices checking in with each other.
Katsuki watches them go, blandly. Present Mic turns to him. Annoyed no doubt. Katsuki would bet all the Yen he has Present Mic is going straight to Aizawa Sensei’s hospital room as soon as he can.
“Is there a problem, Bakugou? Come on– I’ll bring you to Recovery Girl.”
Katsuki shakes his head, beads of caramel scented sweat slip down his back. Present Mic looks like he’s going to get snappy, like he’s going to physically shove Katsuki out of the building just so he can run to Sensei’s side.
Katsuki speaks before Present Mic can do either of those things. “I have to spark off first.”
Present Mic looks unimpressed, unconvinced, Katsuki doesn’t hurry his next words though. It’s logical, really.
“The Nitro has built up too much.” He waves his hands “It’s safer if I get rid of it here, instead of dragging it around.”
It’s more than he usually says about his quirk, but Deku isn’t around to take fucking notes again, so he does.
It’s not safe to use public transport when he’s like this. Hell, it’s not a good idea to be in public, full stop. Katsuki doesn’t feel an ounce of empathy to bring out the big guns.
“Is Sensei going to be alright? He looked pretty hurt.”
Present Mics eyes flash, he takes a step towards the exit almost automatically. Before looking back at Katsuki, conflicted. “Just– close the doors when you leave.”
Katsuki nods. He really is a star student. Honest.
“I mean it, the minute you’re done, go home.”
Katsuki nods again. Sure, after he sparks off and explored the place to his heart's content. No problem. Present Mic sighs, casts one last look at him, and is gone. Out the door and to Sensei.
Called it.
He spins slowly. The USJ really is impressive. It’s massive. All sorts of things, mountains, water, buildings, forest. It's amazing. Katsuki’s a little giddy that he gets to run around for a bit. Present Mic basically gave him permission anyway.
He lights up, flinging himself through the air unsteadily. His arms shake a little, sore from fighting, but it’s manageable. He’s enjoying the rush in his ears.
It’s not like he was lying either, the explosions really do help. He lands on a roof, rolling to a stop before sitting up. Little by little the explosions drift up his arms. It has to be done slowly or Katsuki runs the risk of imploding. And that would hurt like a bitch. The material is worse for wear by the end of it.
It's burnt, scorched. Blackened from where he had to get the worse of the Nitro out. He’s a little mournful, his first costume. But it had to be done. A flash of movement ducks into a building below him. He’ll have a new one made soon anyway.
There’s really no point in— Katsuki pauses. Did he see something? Yeah, he’s pretty fucking sure he did. It can’t be his classmates, no, Katsuki watched them leave.
A villain? Maybe. A leftover. It’s not unrealistic to imagine that they missed one. It’s not like the staff can be perfect, they aren’t All Might.
Katsuki grins a little. He can take care of one measly villain. One shrimp dicked loser is no match for him. He already proved that plenty. Katsuki thinks of the satisfaction he’s going to get to hold over the staff’s head.
Surely this will get him some leeway, Katsuki’s mind spins. What if he can get Deku transferred to the other hero class? God, that would solve so many of his problems wouldn’t it?
Katsuki drops off the roof like a stone, using his explosions at the last possible moment to soften the blow. It hurts like a bitch, but fuck him, it looks cool. And just in case the small fry is watching, Katsuki wants them to be scared.
He grins, as he enters the building. An empty one bedroom apartment, it’s only made to play a part in any training simulations. It makes it easy to spot the figure curled into the corner. Hulking.
Okay. Fuck, he’s much bigger than Katsuki thought.
That’s fine. Katsuki can handle it. The villain is shirtless, probably for the two massive leathery wings coming from his back. He doesn’t pay Katsuki any mind. Too busy doing... Whatever it is he’s doing.
It’s okay, the villain is thin, Katsuki can see the knobs of his spine from across the room. He’s weak, no doubt, why else would he hide?
There’s a strange shuffling noise from the corner. Katsuki’s eyes are drawn to the other features, he can’t see the villain's head. His weird ass posture keeps it bowed, the villain's chin must be pushed nearly into his chest. How is that comfy?
No, instead Katsuki can see bare feet. Large and clawed like talons. The villain must be some fucked up version of a bat. All of him is the same weird tan colour. Katsuki.. Katsuki should probably get someone. He’s not scared, just.. Tired. It wouldn’t make sense to fight alone. And really, he’s saving Present Mic's ass, it wouldn’t look good for UA if Katsuki brought in the villain alone. Negligence or whatever.
Katsuki scoffs, yeah. UA would certainly be in the deep end for this. Katsuki is doing them a favour really. Imagine the shit-storm if it got out that they missed a villain on their own campus.
The villain has gone still. Completely. Fuck– Katsuki, he made a noise, didnt he?. Shit. That’s fine, he’ll go with plan A. He can do this. His palms are slick with sweat, he’s ready.
He’s not fucking ready for the thing to stand up. To have to bend to avoid hitting the ceiling. To not be a villain at all. Fucking Nomu’s. Katsuki only takes a step back because, well, yeah he might be a little fucked.
Its neck is weirdly muscled. Instead of a mouth, it has a gas mask-muzzle thing. The strange noise Katsuki heard before must have been breathing. It’s eyes are fucking horrific. Because they are just shoved into its brain. Which is just, the entire top of its head. No skull, no skin. Just brain matter. It has to be blind. It has to be.
Katsuki knows how eyes work. He knows there needs to be room, and holders and fucking eyelids. None of which this thing seems to have. It has to be blind. Deaf too, maybe. Katsuki can’t see any ears.
The Nomu doesn’t seem to move again. Could he just.. Slip out? Would it even notice? It’s not looking at him, hell, it’s not looking at anything. Just still. Like a statue. Katsuki edges back to the door, slowly putting his foot over the door frame. Yeah. Nomu’s are mindless. Katsuki is going to be fine.
He’ll just... Lock it in the USJ and get someone. They’ll get All Might, and Katsuki will get a pat on the back. Job well done. He lifts his other foot, more confident.
The floor groans under him.
Katsuki’s eyes lock onto the thing again, just in time to see it move.
He flings an explosion, sending himself through the door frame just in time for it to be obliterated by the thing. It’s massive talons slicing through the wood effortlessly. Katsuki’s heart thumps in his chest.
The thing crumbles some debris in its grip, unsatisfied. It turns, somehow pinpointing Katsuki, and a low raspy growl rolls into the space between them. Katsuki turns and fucking runs.
It takes after him like a shot. Katsuki can’t get airborne, it takes too much energy and there's no doubt it's better at flying than him. The city-scape is his best bet. Maybe he can lose it here.
It fucking fast though. Katsuki’s heart is doubled, he understands that he is very much dead if it catches him, but he’s exhausted. Adrenaline is nice, but it won’t keep him going for long. Another crash behind him.
It’s taking shortcuts, straight through faux buildings to get at him. Katsuki scrambles around another corner. Using the railing to turn tighter. He’s so fucked. He’s so dead. It crashes into the wall, and Katsuki can hear the scratches being put in the metal even over the blood in his ears.
He pumps his legs faster, Katsuki would like to survive the fucking day thank you very much. He jumps through a window, no glass is in it anyway, and sprints out the other side of the building. He doesn’t hear a crash. Maybe it’s given up?
The Nomu skids around a corner, just as Katsuki runs past it. Claws catching air. It’s wings flail as it misses him. Slamming into the wall before shaking the dust off and taking off again. Katsuki half giggles, half sobs. It’s not just chasing him.
It’s hunting him. And it’s doing a swell fucking job.
There. The doors. It’s across a lake. Katsuki just has to blast himself across it. No problem. He can buy himself at least three seconds, maybe, before the Nomu knows where he’s gone.
He’s going to be fine. One well placed explosion and he’s safe. His breath escapes in ragged gasps. He’s this close. Katsuki is okay.
He’s fine.
He’s yanked back by claws digging into his torso. The talons take up nearly his entire body. The swipe sends him into a wall, and then through it. Fuck. Katsuki’s ribs are cracked, he knows it. Plaster rains down around him.
The scratches on his chest ooze. Katsuki would worry about the infections, except he’s not going to live long enough for it to matter. Who’s going to tell his parents? How long is it going to take for them to find his body?
The Nomu crawls in after him, unhurried. Katsuki– Katsuki’s eyes burn. Fuck, he really doesn’t want to die. He only turned sixteen. He wants to be a hero. The Nomu shuffles closer. A horrible screeching noise as it picks through the rubble.
Fuck him. At least make it quick. He doesn’t want to suffer. He just– he doesn't want to die at all, but if he has to choose. If he gets a choice at all.
The Nomu is above him. Beady eyes bear down on him. Katsuki snarls.
“Fuck you.”
It doesn’t move. Katsuki feels rage sweep through him, all that running and it wants to watch him bleed out? The fucking audacity. Katsuki tries to sit up, his rips wince. He shuffles back slightly to the wall, as close as he can get.
“Fuck you.” Katsuki wheezes. “And your mask and fuck your stupid fucking eyes.”
The Nomu doesn’t do anything. It tilts its head, like a dog. A crackling comes from its throat. Like a broken radio.
“Krrch–h”
Katsuki doesn’t give a shit what it’s doing. Laughing probably. Katsuki bets the thing was a fucking sadist, if it’s even smart enough to understand what that is.
“Krrchn—Kc–Kch”
“Shut up!” Katsuki groans. Just get it over with already. Tear out his heart, crush his head. Whatever.
“Kacch–an”
He goes cold. What? What? How– What?! The Nomu tries again, rearranging its limbs into something of a sit. The weird gargoyle position Katsuki found it in.
“Kacchan”
That’s his name. That dumb fucking nickname, does it know Deku? Is Deku somehow involved in this? Katsuki should have expected this, Deku is involved in everything that goes wrong with Katsuki’s life.
“Kacchan–”
“I heard you the first time” Katsuki snaps. But the Nomu doesn’t look angry, it doesn’t look anything. Just sitting there. “Do you know Deku? Does he have something to do with this?!”
The Nomu clicks in its throat. Slowly, like a clock. Or a landmine. It doesn’t react to Deku’s name. Katsuki’s ribs ache. The cuts aren’t as bad as he first thought. Just combined with being thrown through a wall, they fucking suck.
“Kacchan.” It repeats.
Great. Excellent. Fucking peachy. Maybe Katsuki died on impact and this is his hell. A fucking Nomu crowing a nickname maybe four people have ever used for all eternity. Karma really is a bitch.
Katsuki wheezes through some dust. And the Nomu still does fucking nothing. Like it hadn’t tried to kill him. Like it isn’t going too. Fuck this. Fuck everything.
He squints. It’s not Deku.
But how the fuck does it know him? How the fuck–? No. It can’t be. Katsuki squints at the thing. Hunched over, impassive.
“Kariage?” He says, hesitant. Nothing. “Deshi?”
Nothing. Okay. Maybe Katsuki is wrong. He’s developed some form of psychosis and coming up with the stupidest theories because of it. Yeah. That could work.
“Tsubasa?” It’s not a name Katsuki has said in the last ten years. It takes him a moment to remember it, even then he could be wrong. Tsubasa, Tsukishima, tsu-something, had moved when they were six. He never even wrote.
“Kacchan.” It repeats, a wing twitching.
Well, fuck.
Katsuki had slouched back into the broken bricks. The edges digging in painfully. Fuck him. Fuck the villains. Fuck UA. Katsuki had just wanted to become the Number One. Was that too much to ask for?
The Nomu (Tsubasa?) crackles every thirty seconds or so. Katsuki does his fucking best to ignore it–him. Maybe it’ll get bored and leave Katsuki alone. It doesn’t move. Not an inch. Katsuki pulls himself up on shaky legs. A hand pressing down on his ribs, like that’ll help.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Katsuki enunciates. “Who you were–are. I’m going to get a teacher and you can fuck off.”
The thing-Tsubasa-Nomu’s unblinking eyes swivel to lock onto him. Katsuki thinks for a second it’s going to finish the job.
“Kacchan.” He repeats.
Katsuki growls, frustrated. Everything is fucked. Katsuki can’t even move without getting closer to the Nomu-person. Fucking whatever. He shuffles forward, but it doesn’t budge. Any closer and Katsuki will be in reach again.
“Fucking hell, back up!”
The thing shuffles and takes a step back. Katsuki pauses. Did it.. Listen to him? No, it–he wouldn’t. Unless, maybe this thing really is Tsubasa? Katsuki eyes the clawed feet dubiously, or maybe parts of him are Tsubasa?
“Do–” He says. “Do that again.”
Maybe-Tsubasa does. Shuffling back as soon as Katsuki tells him too. Okay- Fuck. But if he’s listening. Katsuki can go get help. He can go get Aizawa or someone, Aizawa should be better by now right? Aand they can deal with this bullshit. Maybe rehabilitation or something. Fix him.
Katsuki edges past him. Sticking to the walls. He takes a step over the crumbled wall, wincing as he does. And stumbles away from it. Tsubasa–The Nomu follows after him.
“Stop!” Katsuki chokes out, panic seizing him. The Nomu does. One leg still raised.
Right. It’s listening. He’s listening.
“Kacchhran?” He says, tripping over the syllables.
Kasuki swallows roughly. “Get back in the room.”
Tsubasa goes back into the room. Katsuki has to get someone here now. But he also needs to not loose the fucking seven foot tall Nomu that crashed through at least five buildings.
“Stay here.” He says. “Don’t move an inch.”
There's no response. But Tsubasa, probably Tsubasa, stays still. And doesn’t move as Katsuki slowly moves away. He looks back over his shoulder every three steps, unsure if Tsubasa was actually going to listen to him or not. Katsuki makes it to the exit doors without seeing Tsubasa at all.
Katsuki can’t run. His chest hurts too much, but he hobbles as fast as he can across the empty campus. The infirmary is buzzing though. People crammed into beds, interns and nurses and the like buzzing around faster than Katsuki can focus on.
He stands in the door, long enough for someone to take notice. A younger nurse.
“Oh my god, sit down” He’s tugged to an empty bed. And immediately three or four nurses are cutting off Katsuki’s ruined uniform. “Jesus kid, why weren’t you brought in with the rest?”
Katsuki glowers at the nurse dabbing a cotton ball on the scratches. Four ugly jagged ones across his chest. Thank god he doesn’t scar. “Where’s Aizawa Sensei?”
The nurse raises an eyebrow. Unamused. “You’re one of Eraserhead’s kids? Should've known.”
“Where is he?” Katsuki winces as the nurse applies the gauze a little too roughly.
“He’s been transferred. He’s in pretty rough shape.” the nurse says.
Another one nods. “That thing- a Nomu? Was brutal. If All Might wasn’t there…”
“But he was,” the first one snaps. “And he always will be.”
A third nurse shrugs. “I heard he killed it with one punch.”
“Of course he did, he’s All Might.” says Nurse Uno.
“I wonder what they’re doing to the body?” Nurse Dos asks. Katsuki head swims trying to keep up with them. Where the fuck is Sensei? That’s all he wants to know.
“Dissecting it obviously. Too bad it’s dead, imagine what we could learn from a live one?” Says Nurse Tres.
Katsuki goes cold. He.. hadn’t thought of that. He hadn’t wanted to think of that. Tsubasa wasn’t a hulking monster when Katsuki knew him, distantly he was aware that someone had done something to make him that way. Chopped him up there, added bits here.
He had thought the heroes would help. Tsubasa has some memories. That’s how he knew Katsuki. If you ignore the attempted murder– he hasn’t really changed all that much. Okay. Fuck. He doesn’t want to turn Tsubasa over just to be put down or something.
What does Katsuki do? Does he tell them? Does he let them strap Tsubasa down and forget about it? It's not like he can hide a fucking Nomu. That's not feasible…. Right?
There’s no way Katsuki could hide him. But maybe he could stall others seeing him? Just until Aizawa gets back. He’s logical. He’ll listen to Katsuki and tell him what to do. Maybe it’s all just one big coincidence and it’s not even Tsubasa in the USJ.
Point is. Until Aizawa can make a decision, Katsuki will just.. Buy some time. No one needs to know. Aizawa will be back soon. Recovery girl is the best healer, she’ll have him up and running in no time.
Katsuki stands quickly. Nurse Dos gives him a look. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Katsuki snarls, “Fucking home.”
“Let him go,” sSays Nurse Tres. “If he’s standing he’s fine. We’ve got bigger things–”
Katsuki is gone before he can hear the rest. Out of the infirmary like his ass is on fire. Get to Tsubasa, if no one else has already. And move him. Somewhere. Fuck, one thing at a time.
Katsuki ribs are much, much better. Whatever the Nurses did worked fucking magic. A quirk maybe. Katsuki makes it across the campus in half the time it took him before. Still not a soul around.
He bursts into the USJ. The doors slam behind him. Echoing across the empty space. Fuck– Is Tsubasa gone? Katsuki spins slowly, looking up. Nothing.
“Tsubasa!” He shouts, hands cupped around his mouth. “Come here!”
A beat, nothing. A wall explodes across the arena. Tsubasa, Katsuki watches, approaches with all the grace of a charging bull. Wings snapping out to propel him forward. Faster. Straight towards Katsuki.
“Slow down!” Katsuki cries, backing up. Hands raised like it’ll stop a charging Nomu. “Stop!”
Tsubasa skids into the dirt, only a few feet away from Katsuki. Deep marks left in the floor, from where he had to slow down. Katsuki inhales quickly. Right. Okay, that was too close.
“Kacc-han.” Rumbles out Tsubasa. Katsuki might actually be going crazy, because that almost sounded pleased.
Whatever. Katsuki doesn’t have time for this. He doesn’t have time to make a better plan, or any plan at all really. He straightens up. Ignoring the fact that he’s not actually wearing a shirt right now, just bandages and the bottom half of his first hero costume. Great.
“We need to move you.” Katsuki says. “You have to stay hidden. Just for a little bit, until Sensei can see you. He’ll fix this.”
Tsubasa tilts his head, slowly. “Kacchan.”
“Right. I forgot.” Katsuki growls. “You’re stupid. Listen birdbrain, come with me quietly. There's a forest by my house, remember?”
The stupid stupid plan forms in his mind as he talks. “You’re going to fly us there.”
Tsubasa says nothing, except for. “Kacchan.”
Katsuki sighs. “Crouch down.”
Tsubasa does, wings spread to get closer to the floor. Katsuki looks forlornly at the doors, and then the glass ceiling– or what was left of it anyway. And then he climbs onto Tsubasa's back. It’s the stupidest thing he’s ever done. By a long shot.
It’s.. weird. Like the world's worst piggy-back. Katsuki is touching a Nomu. A Nomu that nearly shredded him and is maybe-most-likely-absolutely Tsubasa. Tsubasa doesn’t even move under Katsuki’s weight. Doesn’t make a noise.
His spine digs into Katsuki. Thin. Katsuki thinks for a second he’s not going to be able to fly with the weight of the two of them.
“Up.”
Tsubasa goes Up. It’s instant. A gut-wrenching lurch that sends Katsuki face first into Tsubasa’s spine. Katsuki has to cling to whatever he can grab to not fall off, a thick neck, boney shoulders. The wind whips Katsuki’s hair into his face as the ground falls away.
“Slower! Slower!” He shouts. And Tsubasa does. Still rising but at a much slower rate, one that lets Katsuki control his breathing. “Do not drop me. Do not fucking drop me.”
Tsubasa doesn’t say anything, slowly rising.
“Okay, My house. Let's go.” Katsuki thinks for a moment he’ll have to give directions, but apparently not. Tsubasa flies forward at the same speed. Slow enough Kasuki can almost ignore the thousands of feet between him and the ground. How much does he remember?
He’s not scared. Falling would just be inconvenient. He’d hurt his hands and shoulders catching himself. Tsubasa better not fucking drop him. Katsuki would be so annoyed.
It can’t be longer than a couple minutes before Tsubasa starts to descend. Slowly enough at first that Katsuki has time, thankfully, to redirect him.
“No! Behind my house, the forest!”
Tsubasa changes the course, fast enough that Katsuki isn’t worried about anyone seeing them. He still has to shout over the wind as they land.
“Gently! Fucking Gently!”
Tsubasa leathery wings beat down slowly. They land easily. Katsuki slides off Tsubasa’s back, legs wobbly. Bracing himself on a tree.
“Kacchan?” Tsubasa says. Yeah. Katsuki can hear a tone. It’s grainy, but there's slight differences to the voice. Sometimes.
Yeah. This is Tsubasa. No doubt. Katsuki kinda wishes he wasn’t though. Because now away from UA, it’s just kinda sad. Tsubasa is sniffing at the grass, touching the moss, turning his head into the wind. It's just.. It’s sad. Like Tsubasa hasn’t seen it before, or can’t remember it. Maybe he doesn’t. Katsuki sighs, and slides to the ground.
“Kacchan?”
“You gotta stay here.” Katsuki says. “In the woods, stay away from everyone but me.”
Tsubasa doesn’t nod. Katsuki needs to know he understands. “Say it!”
“Kacchan.”
Katsuki throws up his hands. “Close enough.”
It goes like this, Katsuki wakes up at the ass crack of dawn. Gets a shoe thrown at him by his mother on his way out for his troubles. She had raged at the attack from yesterday. But apparently Katsuki had pulled enough bullshit as a child that she doesn’t question that he came home shirtless, and in from the back door.
So there’s small mercies. Katsuki runs straight into the woods. A pack of wholemeal bagels in hand, does Tsubasa eat? Can he? The woods are quiet. Too quiet.
“Tsubasa?”
A familiar clicking noise comes from in front of him, Katsuki tries to act normal as Tsubasa drops from a tree. How does something so big hide so well? Katsuki for a split second thinks of leopards. Or bears. Or any ambush predator. Fuck.
“Kacchan?”
Katsuki holds out a bagel. His hands aren’t shaking, fuck you. He’s fine. Tsubasa does nothing.
“Take it!” Katsuki snaps.
Tsubasa does. The bagel comically small in his palm. Katsuki groans.
“Fucking eat it!”
Does he have to tell Tsubasa to chew too? Fucking hell. Katsuki watches in mounting horror as Tsubasa pulls up the gas-mask covering what Katsuki had assumed to be his face. He had been expecting a mouth, fuck, maybe a beak. Instead, it’s just a gaping hole.
Two silver pipes are connected to his mask, running down the back of his.. throat? Jesus, is that how he breathes? Is Katsuki looking straight down Tsubasa’s oesophagus? Gross. It gets grosser as Tsubasa shoves the bagel in. And it’s just gone. Just like that. No chewing.
Right. Great. Katsuki can deal with that. He places the four other bagels into Tsubasa’s hand. Minus the plastic bag, Katsuki thinks Tsubasa would eat that too. And Katsuki doesn’t know how to do a laryngoscopy.
Tsubasa swallows the rest without direction. Great. Katsuki nods. Feeling stupid.
“I’ll be back after UA. Don’t let anyone see you.”
And the Katsuki goes to school, like he isn’t hiding a Nomu in his garden. That’s where he’s at in his life now.
UA isn’t any easier. Katsuki is expecting some substitute he can take his issues out on until he feels better. Instead, Aizawa walks in. Not a single part of him isn’t bandaged. Katsuki is a little surprised. He... He didn’t think Aizawa was this hurt.
The class passes unremarkably. Same boring shit Katsuki has already made notes on. Because fuck everyone else, being the best takes effort. The class yammers on about this and that and how crazy the attack was and blah blah blah. Katsuki’s ears feel like they are about to bleed.
He feels like everyone knows he’s hiding something. They have too. Or maybe he’s finally gone insane. That's becoming a real possibility these days.
The redhead he fought with yesterday is happy to shove into Katsuki’s personal space at lunch. Katsuki is happy to give an up close demonstration of his quirk. The blonde guy laughs and sits opposite him. Smart.
The two entertain each other until Katsuki can go back to class. He breezes through them. Of course he does. He’s the best. He tears out of UA like it’s nobody's business. Katsuki makes it halfway home before he remembers he was supposed to tell Sensei about Tsubasa.
It can wait. The guy was barely standing. Tsubasa isn’t causing any problems. It’s fine. Katsuki, he just wants Aizawa to make an informed decision. Seeing a Nomu so quickly after the attack might fucking trigger him or something. Better to wait.
Katsuki nods to himself as he steps in the gate. Yeah. Aizawa will understand. And he’ll be impressed that Katsuki was so considerate, that he’s playing it smart. And then he’ll help Tsubasa. The gate clicks shut behind him.
His parents aren’t home. Thank god. Katsuki thinks about getting some more food, surely Tsubasa needs to eat a lot by the size of him. His arms are too thin for something his size, his ribs too sharp. Whoever fucked him up, clearly didn’t care about taking care of him.
Katsuki wanders back into the woods. It’s still quiet. Not a single sound. Until the leaves rustle above him. Tsubasa, Katsuki thinks. Seconds later he drops down in front of Katsuki. He doesn’t look hungry. Not that Tsubasa can make any expressions. Katsuki shrugs.
He walks deeper into the woods. Bag still on his back and flops down on a log. It’s deep enough into the forest that no one should see them. Tsubasa circles once. Katsuki is half tempted to snap at him to lie down.
But he wants to see if Tsubasa is capable of making any decisions on his own. If he can, then it’ll give Katsuki a better defence. Look, he’d be able to say, this is just someone who needed saving.
Tsubasa does. Eventually. Katsuki feels satisfaction heavy in his gut. He’s doing the right thing here. He knows it. He flicks open a maths book. They shouldn’t get to this section until next week, but Katsuki doesn’t slack off. Ever.
Not even for impromptu Nomu’s and almost getting shish kababed. He’ll study today, and tell Aizawa next week.
He doesn’t tell Aizawa.
Katsuki, he gets used to it. Like having a dog, he thinks. He gets up early to feed Tsubasa, and gets home as fast as he can to do his work with him. It’s hard, but the routine takes shape. Suddenly it’s been three weeks and Katsuki is leaning against Tsubasa’s side as he chants off english verbs.
Like he didn’t see Tsubasa swallow a rabbit whole and still squirming once. Katsuki pushes that experience into the very back of his mind. Its little legs kicked as it was pushed down Tsubasa’s throat hole.
It’s easier when Tsubasa acts more like a person than a thing. Huffing at comments Katsuki makes. The little things that make Katsuki feel like they’re almost talking.
Tsubasa doesn’t speak. He doesn’t say anything other than Kacchan. But Katsuki is getting better at interpreting. Tsubasa is meeting him halfway, and that helps. Responding in clicks as Katsuki complains about Deku.
Tsubasa, around week three and a half, is looking better. His flesh has started to creep up around his eyes. Hiding the brain that doesn’t disturb him as much as it used too. He doesn’t get eyelids, but he doesn’t look so much like a stress toy someone squeezed too hard.
He’s started to put on weight too. Probably the pizza Katsuki brings him. It was Tsubasa's favourite as a kid. Katsuki thought it would help. He’s not anywhere close to the chubby child he was, but Katsuki can’t see his spine anymore. Tsubasa has enough fat to balance out the muscle.
Which also doesn’t decrease at all. Despite definitely not using them enough to maintain any strength, Tsubasa stays weirdly ripped.
So, Katsuki doesn’t tell Aizawa, even though he should, and it’s not fair to Tsubasa. Katsuki doesn’t tell. He brings Tsubasa two pizzas every second day instead. And by week five, Katsuki can’t even see the brain anymore.
He’s not petting him. Tsubasa isn’t a fucking dog. It’s just.. Katsuki reads something on touch, and how it helps with development. If all the touch Tsubasa got was being turned into this. Then maybe it’ll help.
Katsuki isn’t struggling in school. He isn’t slipping. He’s just exhausted now, all the time. He’s had to cut into his sleep to get everything done in time. Waking up earlier. Studying longer. Training harder. His performance is at it’s fucking peak.
He still gets called out for his eye bags at least once a day. He explodes the first person, and flips off the rest. Too tired to do anything more. Fucking morons.
Katsuki doesn’t think he’d fall asleep. But the woods are peaceful, the sun is coming down in such a nice way, and Tsubasa’s breathing is quiet behind him. It’s between blinks he curls into Tsubasa’s side, and passes out for an hour.
He wakes feeling better. Not a scratch on him. So, so... It becomes a habit. Having an afternoon nap in the woods. Next to a Nomu. Sometimes Katsuki wakes up to a wing over him, if it had started to rain, or Tsubasa’s head nearly in his lap. Having curled up too.
It reminds Katsuki of their sleepovers. Him, Deshi, Kariage and Tsubasa all crammed into one bed as kids. Deku was never allowed on sleepovers. The moron.
The sports festival is a pile of shit. Katsuki clutches the metal so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t melt it. His parents don’t say a word as he flies through the house. But the TV is on, so he knows they saw it. His mother is good at getting the subtle digs in like that.
He walks straight out the back door and flings himself over the garden wall. Fuck All Might, fuck Midnight. Fuck the Pro-heros and all his classmates, especially the ones Katsuki let trick him into thinking they were friends.
He was right to never tell them about Tsubasa. They would have killed him without a second thought. Or worse. Katsuki hands shake.
Tsubasa thrills as he sees Katsuki. A sound not unlike a motorbike starting, Katsuki had come to recognize it as happy as hello. Katsuki throws the medal into a tree in anger. Fuck it all. Tsubasa leans in closer, beady eyes wide.
“Kacchan?”
Katsuki runs a smoking hand through his hair. Nearly pulls it out in frustration. “It’s not fair. I didn’t win! They wouldn’t let me! Fucking Icy-Hot Bastard son of a Bitch and a Whore!”
Katsuki kicks a rock so hard it cracks the log it hits. Tsubasa’s nearly sitting up straight. Head swivelling like he can find what’s making Katsuki so mad. It takes the wind out of Katsuki’s sails.
“It’s not fair.” And he drops down next to Tsubasa.
With no short amount of horror, Katsuki’s eyes start to burn. His throat clogs. For a second he thinks about running off. Or telling Tsubasa to leave. He would if Katsuki told him but who’s Tsubasa going to tell anyway?
So Katsuki, in a fashion he will never ever admit or do again, throws himself at Tsubasa. And Katsuki, at the big age of sixteen, cries his little heart out over winning the sports festival. At least Tsubasa doesn't judge.
Instead he curls around Katsuki, gentle with the talons. And croons in a way Katsuki thinks is him trying to be soothing. If it didn’t sound like nails on a chalkboard.
It takes Katsuki a minute to pull himself together.
“Kacchan?” Tsubasa says, like it’ll set him off again.
Katsuki can’t help it. He snorts, and tries to smother the giggles with a hand. He’s a hero student, whos emotional support is a fucking Nomu of his childhood friend. It’s ridiculous. He breathes, in… out.
He pats Tsubasa on the shoulder.
“Thanks, loser.”
“Kacchan.” Tsubasa agrees. It sends Katsuki into another fit.
Tsubasa says his name more times than he can count that evening, it gets Katsuki to laugh more than it doesn’t. They dump the medal into a river together as the sun goes down.
Katsuki watches as it sinks. Everything he wanted. Tangible evidence he’s the best, in the worst way possible. Tsubasa watches it go down, eyes unblinking. Katsuki doesn’t ask what he’s thinking.
He stops talking to his classmates. Because that’s what they are. Classmates, not friends. Not potential future hero partners. Not trusted.
He sits alone at lunch. When the multicoloured bastards try to sit with him, he picks up his food and tosses it into the rubbish before spending the rest of the lunch anywhere he can find alone.
The roof, a stairwell. Anywhere they aren’t. They stop trying within the week.
He doesn’t talk to Icy-Hot, doesn’t acknowledge a single thing he does. Nothing. But that’s nothing new. Fuckface seems happy to do the same.
He ignores Deku to an extreme degree. Satisfaction in the way Deku has started to try and pair up with him for sparring just to get Katsuki’s attention again. Jumping at the chance to get near Katsuki, the little freak.
Katsuki thrashes him so hard that Aizawa won’t let Deku spar with him again. Deku is sent to Recovery Girl within the first five minutes. Aizawa, capture weapon in hand, pulls Katsuki off him. Knuckles bloody. He’s not grinning. He didn’t even use his quirk.
Katsuki’s work is flawless. He gets hundreds on every paper he turns in. His homework is a thing of beauty. He makes Midnight and Cementos and Present Mic and All Might give him the highest score. Everyone who had a hand in chaining him up like a fucking animal. He makes them see him outdo everyone.
Aizawa tries to pair him with people, tries being the main word.
Katsuki vaguely remembers under all of Midnights sleeping gas, Aizawa doing fucking nothing to help. So, he absolutely blanks any partner he’s given. Complete silence. Until they are forced to work in a trio and leave him the hell alone.
Anger is good. Anger makes Katsuki loud, it makes him smart. People in Aldera were weak, they feared him. People in UA aren’t so easily shaken, Katsuki lets the silence rot. It works better than the hits ever could.
They want him to be angry. To punch and blame and demand an apology. Katsuki won’t give them the fucking satisfaction. He won’t give them a damn thing. His anger keeps him going better than anything else ever did.
Tsubasa is at this point, his best friend. Katsuki spends more and more time in the woods. Bitching about everything. Tsubasa might not understand every word but he understands the principle.
Katsuki knows he does.
Tsubasa watches him train lazily as he eats the pizza Katsuki brought. He, although with his heart in the right place, brings Katsuki a squirrel. Or a rabbit. Katsuki tries to talk some sense into him. But Tsubasa has always been stubborn. Katsuki makes sure to eat more in front of him. Tsubasa stops bringing the animals then.
They start flying. It reminds Katsuki of being a kid. Of using his explosions to hover, or jump higher. Tsubasa's baby face cheering him on from above. Katsuki thinks it’s nearly the same thing as he either leaps from Tsubasa’s back to hop about the clouds with him.
They come up with a new game too. Katsuki lets himself drop. Tsubasa has to catch him before he hits the ground. It’s fun. The longer they do it the better it gets. First only letting him fall for a few seconds, now Tsubasa will dive down alongside him until the last second. Pulling them up with a rumble as Katsuki cheers.
So it's not all bad. Even though he’s alone most of the time. His mother won’t speak to him. He gets his meanness from her. He gets a lot from her. Katsuki is good at being cruel because he learned it from the best.
Katsuki can’t be in a room with his dad for more than fifteen minutes before his dad starts to cry, and Katsuki is forced to retreat to the woods. At least Tsubasa seems happier. Thrilling so genuinely that Katsuki stretches out the evenings. Only going back when it’s dark and cold and Tsubasa looks a lot scarier in the dark.
Another week passes in a blur. They try to talk to him. Like he would get over it. Like he’d forget. Katsuki Bakugou does not forget. Or forgive. Or anything really. Kirishima, because it’s too late to pretend Katsuki doesn’t know his name now, follows like a kicked dog. Head down.
If Katsuki glares long enough he’ll crack and slink off to the rest of them. Katsuki is half tempted to break the silence to tell Kirishima how unmanly Katsuki thinks he is. Just to see the way his face falls.
Deku is getting erratic. And it’s not a good look, for anyone. He practically throws himself into Katsuki’s path. A million different things said to get anything, a reaction, a glare. Deku thrives off attention. Positive, negative it doesn’t matter to the moron. Katsuki starves him of it. Not even a glance.
His hero work, ironically, gets better. He’s faster, more precise. He hits harder. Aizawa can’t find a fucking flaw in Katsuki’s form. Not one. He gets to class and writes the most amazing essay on wrongful imprisonment just to see Midnight squirm. Someone needs to tell her she's wrong for her to feel bad. Katsuki is up for the job.
Then Katsuki turns around and writes a dedication to capital punishment, and justifies child soldiers to the point where the essay can really, truly, never be published. Just to see All Might sink into his chair. He’ll torture himself for it, Katsuki will just be the voice on his shoulder reminding him All. The. Fucking. Time.
Tsubasa is also doing well. Katsuki notices his skin is warmer. Katsuki had to replace the sweatpants, thank god Tsubasa remembers how pants worked. Katsuki was not ready for that step in their friendship. He would have done it, but it would have traumatised him. So he’s thankful.
His red is coming back. Tsubasa had wings as dark as rubies growing up. It’s starting to come back. Creeping in the edges. Slowly but surely. The rest of him is still a weird tan-yellow, but Katsuki will take the wins where he can get them.
He grumbles more. Tsubasa rubs at his eyes so much that Katsuki gets him goggles, and fills them with eye drops. It helps a lot. Tsubasa also starts hesitating, and Katsuki has never been so happy to see someone ignore him. It’s not all the time, but about three times out of ten. Tsubasa won’t do what he asks.
Unfortunately, most of the time, Katsuki is asking Tsubasa to move his big dumb head so Katsuki can get up to pee. Still, baby steps.