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Fear, that was the most prevalent thing Izuku felt when he was younger.
Blood rushing in his ears, fear. The way his hands trembled, fear. Eyes staring, mouth gaping, all of it. Fear. Fear. Fear.
Fear of loss, fear of people, fear of the world beyond the walls the foster home had placed between them. And most unbelievably of all, fear of someone he called a friend–or was called a friend. Izuku wondered if he ever earned the title, earned his place as a friend. Earned, something–something he wasn’t sure about. It didn’t make sense, but he was afraid to say anything against it. Fear, there it went again.
Dictating the motions, marking his skin, brain. Alarm bells ringing in his head whenever something dare make Izuku’s heart pound. Make him react, fear, and nothing but that. Hilariously enough, Izuku still had hope. Still had hope that he could become something, still had hope that one day a quirk would manifest and he could take his life into his own hands. One day, he would be able to craft something that wasn’t fear, turn that fear into something usable.
Malleable.
Manageable.
Something that made him feel whole.
However, as life would have it, on top of never bestowing Izuku a quirk, it gave one to Bakugou. A power he wielded with control, precision, and that canine ferocity Bakugou was known for. And while Izuku hated to admit it, the feeling that bubbled up along with the animosity, the antipathy, was one of sheer unadulterated admiration. There was fear of him, of course, there never wouldn’t be. Izuku figured that if he wanted to, he’d do away with him. He threatened as much. Every single time he dared appear, show his face, Izuku’s existence marked as an inconvenience.
Weak.
Naturally, he understood why. Understood what made him weak, not all men were created equal. One could go on about that, could recite sonnets and sing songs and write plays about how it wasn’t true. And then Izuku would think about Bakugou, think of that grin, his viciousness, his pride. The smoke that ebbed off his calm, fingertips ready to combust, all the things that made Bakugou–well–Bakugou.
It was then that Izuku realized it was true.
Things escalated from there, and eventually they were both preteens. Izuku felt the sheer impact of Bakugou’s hands against his chest, throwing him to the ground out on the courtyard. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes at the touch, hand coming up to clutch at his chest as he attempted to breathe.
“What was that? Eh? What the fuck was that?” Bakugou spat, teeth bared.
Izuku staggered as he raised to his feet, body crumpling forward, still grabbing onto his aching chest.
“You!? You must be fucking joking,” He went on to say, eyes narrowed to a glare, “All you’re good for is getting in the damn way, quirkless loser. Heroes are the ones who always win, and you do nothing but fucking lose.”
It wasn’t like Izuku had anything to counter that with, but he felt it in himself to try, keep trying–and maybe someday–
“I still w-want to try.”
Bakugou’s voice snapped, that low tone that dug trenches along Izuku’s back, fear coming back full force, “What was that?”
He felt something break, “I still want to t-try, Kacchan!”
Bakugou stepped forward, and Izuku could see, could feel, his aura. There was a ring of static around him, hands clenched at his sides. His gaze could pierce through diamond, and Izuku took a few steps back instinctively as he got closer. He moved until his back was pressed against the small fence around the courtyard, Bakugou stopping just short of him. The distance between them was centimeters, air so toxic Izuku thought he wasn’t able to breathe.
He hated this more than the yelling.
“You wanna be a damn hero so bad, huh? Deku?” He asked, eyes unblinking as he spoke, “You’re a quirkless fuckin’ reject, maybe in the next life. Could happen sooner, if you’re so fucking eager.”
Izuku wondered if he hallucinated the whole thing.
He didn’t remember what happened next. Only that there were splinters in his hands, the fence wasn’t so high, but it was jagged, and he climbed it uncaring about what it could do to him. Bakugou was still in the courtyard, but he ran. Ran away from it. Gravel crunched underneath his shoes, ignoring the inevitable calls of the caretaker, until he found himself in an alleyway. Blood on his hands, pain in his chest, body curled into the brick of a nearby building.
There was a slight twinge of amusement to his voice, Izuku noticed, one that made him sigh through the tears that spilled from his eyes. He thought it was funny, probably. Fear, it was something Bakugou seldom rarely felt, and even if he did, he still charged forward. It didn’t matter what anyone said, about the death of heroism or Bakugou’s inherent volatile disposition. Bakugou had the guts, courage, the will to do what needed to be done.
And Izuku?
He could barely look at someone without flinching.
There was movement to his right, and just as Izuku turned he was slammed so hard it knocked him flying. He crashed into the concrete hard, hard enough he could feel his shoulder pop a bit on impact. One tumble, two, and he ground to a halt on the floor. Izuku’s eyes widened, staring ahead at a rather large formless body. It stood above him ominously, laughing as he struggled to move.
His vision blurred, and all he could think about was how right Bakugou was.
Then anyway.
Now, was a completely different matter.
Izuku stood atop one of the buildings, looking onward with curiosity. Words that All Might said hung heavy in his head as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Make an entrance, let people talk, remind them–inform them, give them gossip. He was going to be in everyone’s line of sight. It didn’t matter now whether or not Bakugou was right, all that mattered is that he do what he could to make an entrance.
A spectacle.
This is what he had trained for from the moment One for All was passed to him.
So he activated it, taking a run about town, familiar streets etched into the remaining synapses in his brain. His eyes scanned about, turning when a rather large explosion sent dust rocketing skyward. Debris rained on Izuku for a moment, the soft wind blowing through town not necessarily helping with that, a few pieces getting lodged in his eyes and leading to him having to cease movement while his vision returned.
It was good for Izuku though. Because All Might said spectacle.
And what better spectacle than something that caused explosions, or something that was battle something else that was causing explosions.
Izuku charged forward once he could see clearly, falling on a nearby rooftop, eyes scanning the area as quickly as possible. He couldn’t help the gnawing pit in his stomach when he saw what he saw, his heart palpitating harshly. He crouched a bit along the edge of the building’s roof, hand grasping the elevated edge.
Bakugou.
And there was that fear again.
He was facing off against a rather large enemy, body sagging as he breathed heavily. Bad quirk match up, Izuku assumed, eyes narrowing as he attempted to process the scene as quickly as possible. He watched as Bakugou threw himself forward again, his top speed had increased, as well as the actual movement of his muscles. Growth, Izuku labeled it, ignoring the discomfort that curled around him like a vice.
The opponent had fire though, and Bakugou had explosions, and when they met, there was another swell. A grey dust cloud erupted from the center, Izuku raising his arm to block the smog from getting in his eyes, turning away until the wind settled. When he turned back, Bakugou still stood there. Injuries littered his arms, but even Izuku could see from where he stood that he wouldn’t stop. His eyes lit up, that grin–that grin that tormented him for years–covering up half his face.
Izuku pursed his lips, standing up to full height. The discomfort was still there, the disgust that coiled and twisted in his gut, he didn’t want to be there. But of course, as much as Bakugou wouldn’t admit to it, he was in a pinch. Bad quirk matchups were like that, and while Izuku couldn’t say his would be much help, he was quick. He was quick enough to get them both out of there, the other individual seemed hard pressed to stay where they were. Their pose remained unchanged, position about the same as well. Hunched over slightly, but ready.
All Might said make an entrance.
And Izuku felt himself regret his very existence every second he dared consider the possibility of dragging Bakugou out of there.
The mere thought of being in his vicinity…
He let out sigh.
And that’s when eyes turned to him, and Bakugou’s expression went from battle ready to incredulous. Izuku took in the scale of the damage, the fact no one was around as a result of how dangerous it got past a certain hour. The sun was setting, and it was about to get even more dangerous. But All Might said to make an entrance, something, something to let them know who was here.
Just as Bakugou turned back to face his opponent, another wall of fire came flying at him. And Izuku lunged forward, hands grabbing onto Bakugou’s shirt and making another flying leap into the crevice between two nearby buildings. The movement was a reflex, and whether or not Bakugou got singed for not being careful really wasn’t something that was on his mind.
But he couldn’t leave him.
Fear prevented that from being an alternative.
As they tumbled to a halt, Izuku landed on top of him, accidentally knocking foreheads with Bakugou as a result. He let out a hiss before feeling hands grab the corners of the collar on his jacket and toss him off with little to no regard as to where he landed.
“Fuck off, nerd.”
Izuku raised himself slightly, ignoring whatever trash was littered on the ground while simultaneously attempting to pay no mind to the glare he was receiving.
“I didn’t need your fucking help.”
A sigh.
“This shit means fucking nothing, you hear?”
And another one, eyes expressing tired exasperation after only a few moments of contact. Bakugou kept eyeing him, waiting for something, it seemed. It took Izuku a moment to realize he was waiting for a response, a retort of some kind. One Izuku didn’t have, and even if he did, it wasn’t like he could voice it.
“You’re fucking mocking me, aren’t you, Deku? Ain’t gonna tell me how you did that, or what the fuck you’re doing here, huh?”
Izuku only shook his head, taking in a deep breath as his focus turned back to the entrance of the alleyway. The figure Bakugou had been dealing with stood there, ominously, dark against the dimming orange background. He heard a scoff come from his side, watching as Bakugou raised himself to his feet. Izuku followed, dusting himself off and checking the wrapping around his neck.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing here, but if you’re gonna be here, you better pull your own damn weight,” Bakugou growled, refusing to even acknowledge him by so much as looking at him anymore, “Don’t expect me to save your sorry ass.”
That was fine.
Fear or not, he still had a goal to accomplish.