Chapter Text
The accident happens on a Thursday.
Which is unfortunate.
Because Thursdays are usually quiet.
Predictable, safe.
This Thursday is none of those things.
Training runs late, again.
Simulator sessions run over schedule, engineering reports need reviewing.
The weather forecast for the weekend keeps changing.
Everybody is tired.
Especially Shouto.
By the time evening arrives, Class 1-A has collectively lost the will to function.
The common room looks like a disaster zone, Kaminari is asleep on a couch, Kirishima is attempting homework.
Jirou is threatening violence more than usual.
Normal.
Very normal.
Shouto enters carrying a stack of reports.
Immediately drops them onto the table.
"Help."
Nobody moves.
"Traitors."
"Survival instincts." Jirou replies.
Fair.
The reports remain untouched.
Until a familiar voice speaks from behind her "What now."
Bakugou.
Of course.
Without even turning around, Shouto points at the papers, "Can you look at the simulator data?"
"Why."
"Because I've been staring at it for three hours."
"Skill issue."
"Probably."
Silence.
"Katsu."
The room freezes, everything freezes.
Every single person.
Even Kaminari wakes up, nobody knows how.
The silence is immediate.
Violent.
Absolute.
Shouto blinks.
Bakugou blinks.
The entire class stares.
"...What."
Nobody answers, because nobody can.
Kirishima looks like he's been struck by lightning.
Ashido is making noises. Actual noises.
Jirou has abandoned all attempts at hiding her amusement.
Momo is staring at the ceiling, probably praying.
"What." Shouto repeats.
Ashido points dramatically "You called him Katsu."
Silence.
Shouto thinks.
"Oh."
"OH?" Kaminari nearly falls off the couch.
Shouto looks genuinely confused "I didn't mean to."
That somehow makes it worse.
Much worse.
Because accidental nicknames are infinitely more dangerous.
The room erupts, immediate chaos.
Kirishima is laughing too hard to breathe, Ashido is celebrating.
Jirou has completely given up pretending to be normal.
Meanwhile-
Bakugou looks like he wants to launch himself through a wall.
"Will you idiots shut up."
"No."
Everyone answers.
And for the rest of the evening it never ends.
Not once.
Every ten minutes:
"Hey Katsu."
"Die."
"Not even my nickname."
"IT'S YOUR NICKNAME NOW."
More chaos.
More suffering.
More laughter.
Eventually the common room empties.
Students disappear toward dorms, homework, showers, sleep.
The noise fades.
Until only two people remain.
Garage Three.
Again.
Rain taps softly against the roof, telemetry glows across monitors.
The familiar comfort of routine settles around them.
Neither mentions the nickname.
For almost an hour.
Then:
"You started a war."
Shouto looks up, "What war."
"The nickname."
"Oh."
Silence.
"I really didn't mean to."
"I know."
Another pause.
Then something strange happens.
Bakugou doesn't sound angry, annoyed.
Sure.
But not angry.
And somehow that's worse.
Because now Shouto is thinking about it.
Thinking about why it happened.
Why that name came out naturally.
Why she didn't even notice herself saying it.
The answer is uncomfortable, because she knows him well enough now that shortening his name felt normal.
Natural.
Easy.
And that's probably a problem.
Across the garage-
Bakugou is having a very similar realization.
Which is also a problem.
Neither says any of it aloud.
Instead:
"You still need help with the simulator data?"
"Yeah."
"Move over."
"Bossy."
"Move."
And just like that, the conversation ends.
But somehow-
The nickname doesn't.
Because long after they leave the garage,
long after the lights go out,
long after the academy falls asleep,
One thought keeps returning.
Not the teasing.
Not the chaos.
Not the class.
Just a single word.
Katsu.
And somehow-
Neither hates it.
Which is definitely a problem.