Chapter Text
[BLACK SCREEN]
*Text slowly fades in.
[TEXT ON SCREEN]
This documentary began as a short term investigative piece, following the rumors of an unidentified vigilante believed to be the primary target of All For One.
Footage collection began six weeks prior to the final war.
We never expected it to become this.
*Fade to black.
The sound of rainfall fades in, quiet at first, then swells into a heavy downpour. The isolated roar floods the theater speakers.
[TEXT ON SCREEN:]
Akiyama Field Works presents:
"BETWEEN THE CUTS"
[TEXT ON SCREEN]
YEAR ONE
An unstable view comes onto the screen, camera shaking with hard breaths in the background from running. The video fights to focus into a clear view as rainwater streaks down the camera lens. A bruised gray sky hangs above the destroyed landscape.
“There! That’s him, that’s the kid!”
“Are you getting it? Zoom in!” Another shouts.
The camera jerks around. Zooming in too quickly and then zooming back out as it searches for the center of the frame. Trying to focus on the vigilante, but having trouble finding him.
When they finally catch him in the view it quickly zooms in again for a closer look. This motion makes the footage shaky and hard to follow until finally focusing on a clear shot of him.
He's drenched, water dripping down his face, hair flat and slicked black against his forehead. His shoulders are slumped in defeat with his arms limp at his sides like dead weights. His knees start to buckle, and for a moment, it looks like he's going to collapse. But then, in a sudden burst of energy, they snap back to life, and he launches himself forward with a fierce determination.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The camera can barely keep up, only managing to capture brief glimpses of moving subject. He looks held together solely by momentum and adrenaline, his body language screaming exhaustion.
His costume is tattered and torn, flapping wildly as he moves. His stance is uneven, as if he’ll collapse the instant he stops. Every moment he remains upright seems like a testament to his sheer force of will, his determination to keep going despite his obvious frailty.
“He’s so fast!” someone says behind the camera.
“He’s not stopping,”
A blast cracks into frame, thunder bright.
The explosive figure shouts after him, chasing a green spark tearing through the rain at impossible speed.
“DEKU!!” “There’s still crap I want—no, Crap I need to say to you!”
The camera dips, trying not to lose them as they shrink to dots against the ruined skyline.
“Go! Go! Back to the van! Follow them!” someone yells side camera.
The footage becomes a frantic rush. Shoes slapping wet pavement, doors sliding open and slamming shut, an engine roaring to life, and tires screaming on the slick asphalt.
Distant, overlapping shouts are picked up by the van's long-range mics. "Just listen to us!" followed by a desperate cry of, "Please, don't do this!" The camera pans wildly, trying to find the source of the voices through the downpour.
The van skids to a stop just as two heroes collide in the sky.
“URAVITY!” the turbo hero calls out from above.
“RELEASE!” The audio picks up clearly, but the camera struggles to pinpoint who uttered the command, scanning the scene in search of the speaker before returning its focus to the sky.
The two fall fast and heavy like a meteor.
“DOWN HERE! I GOTCHA!” a voice shouts from below.
The camera whips and zooms in on a shirtless red haired hero braced with his arms held up towards the incoming crash, ready to catch two men falling at terminal velocity.
“Holy shit, did he just catch the two of them?” an excited and almost in disbelief voice bursts out behind the lens. “Are we getting this?!”
Another voice cuts in, sharp and commanding. “Move out! Camera #1 team, roof of that building! Capture as much as you can. GO!”
The van door slams open. Three backs spill out and bolt toward a fire escape across the street.
“Okay, you” She snaps off frame. “look at me!”
For the first time, the camera finds a face from the crew: a woman pointing at the person behind the lens. “Stay with me. Let’s go for ground coverage.”
The next footage comes from the rooftop team. From above, the scene becomes clear; fifteen, maybe twenty young heroes surround the area.
The rooftop mic picks up fractured pleas from below. Promises and confessions. Anything to make him stop. Anything to bring him back.
The camera zooms in on the vigilante. He’s wavering on the verge of collapse. His body and voice so weak the rooftop mic can’t pick up everything, but a few words punch through when the rainfall softens.
“I’m scared.”
“I don’t want to cause trouble.”
“..can’t go back…”
Then the angle abruptly changes.
The reporters face appears on screen again, this time standing in the rain, on street level with the heroes in the background, crouched behind a slab of concrete. She speaks directly to the lens now, her voice low but urgent.
“We're currently following the rumors of unidentified vigilante, said to be primary target of All For One. Sources connect the vigilante to U.A. High, who say he’s been out here a month now helping survivors in the area who have chosen not to evacuate.
"We’ve been out all week with no sightings…” She glances over her shoulder. “Until today.”
The camera slowly pans away from the reporter, coming to a stop as it focuses on two figures standing apart, with a noticeable gap between them. The sound of rain pounding against the dark concrete fills the air, and in the background, distressed buildings come in and out of view through thick haze, their outlines blurred by the foggy atmosphere.
A young, spiky blonde hero stands on the right side of the frame. Head bowed. Shoulders tight with the drag of vulnerability. The suspected vigilante wobbling on the left.
“Do you remember what I said when Shigaraki stabbed me through the gut?” he asks softly.
“I don’t.” The trembling, tired hero responds. Rain mixing with silent tears falling across his face.
“’Stop trying to win this by yourself.’ But there was more on my mind. The reason I got impaled… my body moved on its own. All our lives, I looked down on you. You were Quirkless. Obviously behind me. But somehow, it always felt like you were ahead of me too.”
He pauses a moment, voice quiet and honest.
“I hated that… So I bullied you. Rejected you. I needed to be better. To win.” His voice is raw with the tone of regret. “Then we got to U.A., and nothing played out the way I wanted. Everyday I had to watch how strong you were… and how weak I was.”
His head stays lowered.
“Saying this out loud doesn’t change anything. But it’s how I feel, Izuku.”
He bows fully, like shame is a crown weighing him down, and he’s offering that weight back in apology and respect.
“I’m sorry. For everything.” His words are sincere, stripped of its usual sharpness.
“You’ve made the right calls ever since you inherited One For All. You chose the best path. You acted like a real symbol.”
He inhales, slow and careful.
“But I can see you’re lost right now. You hit a wall you can’t climb with ideals alone. So we’ll handle the things you can’t take care of by yourself. We’ll save you, the refugees at U.A., and everyone else. Anybody out there who needs a hero.”
Izuku stumbles, catches himself. Sways, catches himself again. His breathing turns shallow, somewhere between a wheeze and a choke. His eyes are tired, sad, and so obviously lost.
The camera pushes in.
Deku’s head drops down, knees shake and then give way, unable to hold him up anymore.
He attempts to take a step, a desperate effort to catch himself one last time, but his body has nothing left.
Just as he's about to hit the ground face first, two arms suddenly grab him, holding him up and keeping him on his feet.
His strength finally fading, losing consciousness from complete exhaustion now safely in the arms of his hero.
*footage fades out
[BLACK SCREEN]
[TEXT ON SCREEN]
SIX WEEKS LATER
Isolated news coverage audio plays over a black screen
“We are now able to confirm: War is Over”
“All For One has been defeated.”
A collection of press reels, newspaper clippings, interview stills and civilian captured footage flash across the screen. Audios from different sources cutting each other off, layering on top of one another until the sound becomes messy and unrecognizable.
“After what is being called one of the most devastating conflicts in modern history, pro heroes and students of U.A. High School have successfully—“
Another voice cuts in before the sentence fully finishes.
“We’re standing just outside one of the temporary recover zones. Medical teams have been working through the night—“
Cut again.
“Many of the injured have been identified, though some names are being withheld”
“There are still many being moved, please check your area’s Survivor Tracking List for any—”
A shaky phone recording with cheers in the background, “They’re saying we won, it’s over! They fucking DID IT!”
The clips keep coming, faster and faster now.
“There has been an outpour of support for the heroes involved, particularly the students…”
“Many students are recovering from severe injuries”
“No official statements from families have been released”
“Construction and rebuilding efforts are expected to start early next week”
“Overseas heroes and volunteers arriving throughout the week”
“Travel bans have been lifted, recovery operations continuing”
“War is over!”
“Bakugo Katsuki—“
“Bakugo Katsuki, who referred to himself as ‘Kacchan of the Bakugos’ yesterday on live television“
“Kacchan Bakugo reported to have been the one to defeat All For One”
“His name is Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight! Only Deku calls him Kacchan!” A young girl with pigtails yells.
“I heard he DIED and came back to life” one voice says, then, “Oh, come on. Dynamight’s crazy, but he didn’t DIE and come back just to defeat the worst villain we’ve ever seen,” a friend next to her says in a street interview clip.
In the same second, “Reports indicate he was revived mid battle by pro hero Edgeshot before returning to the field.”
“Sources confirm Dynamight is in critical condition.”
“Did you SEE the way Dynamight and Deku moved? They were perfectly in sync! I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“They grew up together! I went to middle school with them, I can’t believe this… This is so different from how I knew them...”
“I remember them from the sports festival last year!”
“They saved us all.”
“I’ve never heard of Deku before yesterday.”
“Where did that kid come from!?”
"Izuku Midoriya, student at U.A. and provisional hero Deku, defeated Shigaraki yesterday"
"He was incredible."
“Global attention has now shifted to the young hero known as ‘Deku’, whose actions played a critical role in this victory."
“Everyone is wondering: Who is this hero, Deku? And how can we ever thank him enough.”
The audio builds faster, stacking louder and louder before it turns indistinguishable and abruptly stopping.
A quick reel of outsourced footage from Bakugo’s battles play.
An explosion blooming from Bakugo's palm into Shigaraki’s face, a blurred montage of fighting alongside Mirko, Best Jeanist, and the Big Three.
Shigaraki taunting Bakugo that he is Izuku Midoriya’s most important person in his life, and will make a pretty present for him when he arrives.
The moment his lifeless body hits the ground.
A clip of Aizawa and Monoma looking in horror, unable to blink away… forced to watch a strong hero be stilled and attempted to be revived.
Deku arriving and losing his ever-loving mind over the sight of a chest blasted Kacchan. All of his quirks going haywire as he has a panic attack on the battle ground with Shigaraki’s taunts to push him over the edge.
A broken, sharp silence cuts through with the footage fading to black. And then, the sound of an explosion.
The scene captures as Bakugo’s body rises from the air, with quiet broken breath his eyes finding Deku’s instantly. He reacts fast, not wasting a moment, as an explosion rips through the air between them, getting closer to each other in record time.
Their hands meet, a perfectly timed catch and throw. Bakugo is launched forward, using the momentum to cut across the sky toward save his hero, All Might.
Then a shot of Dynamight laughing loud and uninhibited as he blasts through buildings in the height of a quirk awakening.
“I’M THE FINAL BOSS!”
“I’M KACCHAN BAKUGO!”
Aerial view footage from a cold distance swings into view over a desolate landscape. The camera searches until it finds him, a small, ruined shape in the center of a war-torn battlefield, utterly devastated. The camera zooms in on the hero, it’s clear now that he’s been severely injured, his arms missing.
The lens zooms until the pixels shake. The helicopter’s mic picking up the pilot’s breathing, the whir of the rotors, and the taunts of a thousand hands reaching for destruction.
Below, Shigaraki’s body is a moving horizon. Hands bloom from him at the thousands, then more, then endless.
A faint glow of green lighting flashes, shaky and weak. Deku tries to stand. Without arms, it takes four attempts just to get one knee under him. He slips in the rubble, falls again. And still, he pushes. Still, he tries.
A ring of darkness opens in the air behind Deku.
Then another.
Then so many the sky looks punctured and dotted with miracles.
Heroes pour through in a flood, a vibrant wave of color and sound and capes whipping like flags in a storm. Faces set, stances set with determination, as they prepare to do whatever it takes to end this.
A hand catches on Deku’s shoulder. Eraserhead limping and wrapped in bandages, seeming to be awake only by the brutal mercy of a teacher refusing to let down his students. He presses a chipped fragment into Deku’s skin. A sharp, disbelieving inhale is heard from behind the camera as Deku’s arms regenerate, tissue and bone knitting back into existence in a matter of seconds.
From the air, the change in his posture is visible. His head lifts. His shoulders, which had been slumped in a losing battle, broaden as a collective roar rises from the heroes surrounding him.
Voices of support come trickling into Deku’s reality.
“I’m here!”
“We’re here!”
“Let’s do this!”
“Keep going, Deku!”
“We will support you!”
“We believe in you!”
“You can do it!”
“You can do it!”
“You can do it!”
“YOU CAN DO IT!!”
A reporters voice breaks in behind the camera, shaking through tears, “What we’re seeing is unprecedented coordination… Heroes, and students, moving together as one.”
Another voice in the recording, “They’re making a path for him!” the voice cracking in emotion. “They’re making a path for Deku!” “This could be it!”
Above it all, Shigaraki’s grotesque hands rise like a tidal wave of destruction. Yet, the heroes charge forward in an unbroken line. Their faces are a mix of grim focus and outright battle cries, a forward-moving wall against the monstrous form ahead.
Each hero giving it their absolute all, pushing beyond their limits, going plus ultra. Together, the sprint towards a triumphant win. Their victory.
Until at last, Deku finally reaches Shigaraki and one final “SMASH!” can be heard roaring out of Deku’s mouth.
The camera wobbles violently as the force of the wind threatens to knock the helicopter off balance, but the audio holds. Deku's final scream is raw and intense, torn from the depths of his being. It’s a sound that’s more agony than triumph. A haunting goodbye, a final promise.
The blast of light from the final blow was just too bright for the lens, the image whites out and collapses into static.
*fades to white
[A muffled, disorienting high frequency punches sharply through the audio before settling into a slowly recognizable beeping sound]
A bright white stays flashed across the screen. So bright and harsh it feels like it could burn the image into the viewers eyes.
The exposure in the cameras auto-focus fights at first until it finally relents in small increments, slowly bringing a hospital corridor into clear view.
Machines beeping, florescent lights and white walls show in the scene first. The camera trying to cut through a heavy air of exhaustion and chaos.
The hallway is packed, far past their capacity. Overworked staff moving on pure instinct and adrenaline. Civilians sit slumped against the baseboards with blankets pulled tight around their shoulders, eyes wide and unfocused staring into blank space.
Meanwhile, paramedics are rushing by with stretchers and wheelchairs, carrying wounded heroes whose costumes are torn and burned. There are guards standing watch outside some unmarked doors. The atmosphere is tense and frantic, with everyone just trying to cope with the sheer scale of the disaster.
Voices surge and clash in the corridor, overlapping pleas and directionless roars.
“Is Recovery Girl around?” someone shouts from a doorway, echoing through the sea of people.
“No, she’s completely overwhelmed, she passed out!” another calls back.
“Coding, room 431, I NEED HELP IN HERE!”
A steadier camera opens, framing a single hospital room door. A simple, beige door with a small rectangular window at eye level. The view through it just shyly shows the bed inside.
An unconscious, bandaged Deku lies in the hospital bed, utterly still. Beside him, machines hum, the steady numbers on the monitor a stark contrast to his unmoving form. The lens lingers on him, waiting for the slightest proof of life, until a second figure reveals itself through a shift in fabric.
Katsuki Bakugo
He’s asleep in a visitor’s chair pulled close to the bed, folded over with his forearms resting on the mattress. His breathing is deep and even.
A loud crash from the hallway carries into the room, not enough to wake the sleeping boys but loud enough their bodies flinch and instinctively react.
Deku’s brows pull tight, Bakugo’s shoulders tense up, the motions are immediate and unthinking, a twitch towards safety.
Bakugo’s hand slides the fraction of an inch until they rest on top of Deku's. The contact is minimal, a blanket to separate them, but definite.
Bakugo’s shoulders lose their tension, sinking slightly. On the monitor, Izuku’s respiration rate slows, the rhythm evening out. The next inhale comes deeper, slower, and the one after that follows it instead of racing ahead.
The machine registers it first. Numbers start to settle, spikes soften, the line on the screen finds a steadier pace.
They look… calm.
They don’t wake up. Their hands don’t separate.
The quiet is broken by the door swinging open. A nurse stands there, hands on her hips. “Katsuki Bakugo, you are post-op from four major procedures. What did we say about leaving your room? You are supposed to be on bed rest, get back to your room. Now. Don't disgrace the work Recovery Girl and Dr. Yoshida have done for you.”
*The footage cuts to black.
[TEXT ON SCREEN:]
SIX MONTHS LATER
[TEXT ON SCREEN:]
IZUKU MIDORIYA, HERO: DEKU,
YEAR 2 U.A. STUDENT
FIRST OFFICIAL INTERVIEW
The woman’s voice, which is recognized as the same from the van footage, is now coming from behind the camera.
“For the record, this is Rei Akiyama, interviewing Izuku Midoriya at U.A. High School.”
“Thank you, Midoriya, for letting us be with you here today.”
“Y-yeah. Thank you for waiting.” He replies, sounding a bit nervous but really polite.
“You asked for six months before your first interview, but you agreed to the next ten years for this project. We are honored with this privilege. My team and I are committed to telling this story right." She says as she bows her head.
Izuku gives a slight nod, and the camera pushes in. His hair is still short, growing out from being shaved for medical procedures. An almost pale scar cuts vertically through the freckles on his cheek.
“Already six months later, is it too cliché to start with a simple: how are you?”
Izuku let's out a soft hum, “As long as you’re okay with the cliché answers.”
He smiles politely before adding, “I’m… I’m okay. And thank you, for asking. I just—there are people out there who got hurt because of decisions I made, so whatever I’m feeling, it doesn’t really feel like something I’ve earned the right to complain about yet.”
“A very heroic answer, but this interview is with a focus on you and Dynamight.” She gently reminds him. “How are you processing everything that happened, now that people are starting to rebuild?”
His eyes start to drift off, like he’s following threads unraveling in his mind.
“I think it’s just… too big right now. All of it. I don’t have the right words yet.” He swallows, fingers curling slightly against his knee. “Maybe I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to understand how I feel about it. Maybe something like this isn’t supposed to make sense right away. Maybe it never will.” A heavy silence sits for a moment before he inhales sharply, trying to lift the energy in the air the best he can.
“But… We made it through. That’s what matters. People are rebuilding. Not just infrastructure but, each other too. It’s... good to see the community coming together. It reminds me why we fought so hard. Why we kept getting back up.”
He looks down for a second, then back up.
“When I see people still trying, still choosing to move forward… it makes me want to believe we can, too. It gives me hope. For whatever comes next.”
“What stands out to you the most of that day?” She asks. “What do you remember?”
“Everything.” He responds immediately and almost cold. “I remember everything. And I won’t forget. I would never want to.”
He stops for a moment, and it seems like he’s going to leave it at that. But then he continues, “I remember, I’m just not ready to talk about all of it. I’m sorry. I know people want answers, and they deserve them. I just don’t think I can give them in a way that honors everyone yet.”
“We can stop anytime. If you need a break, say it.”
“I remember Kacchan blasting his way back to me.” His fingers start to fidget, twisting together nervously in his hands, looking away from the camera. “He always does.”
“Katsuki Bakugo, you have history with him long before the war. Who is he to you?”
Izuku’s eyes dart toward the door. He goes still, shoulders tight as if he’s checking to make sure there is privacy in the room. A long silence stretches out, the camera holding on his face. When Akiyama speaks again, her tone is gentle.
“The media is calling you two ‘The Wonder Duo.’ What is it like, having Katsuki Bakugo in your life?” Akiyama’s tone stays even, her phrasing neutral. “I imagine most people just picture a lot of shouting.”
Izuku can’t help but crack a smile, and he quickly covers his mouth with his hand, trying to hide the amusement that’s written all over his face.
“There is definitely still shouting,” he admits. Then, more fondly “But there’s much more to him than people give him credit for.”
“Like what?” She says.
“He’s very reliable. He just… shows up. He’ll complain the whole time, like it’s a huge pain, but he’s always there. People see the big wins—the victory against All For One, saving All Might, winning the sports festival—and they should. But he’s also the reason I was able to... to do what I did that day. I wouldn’t be who I am without him. I couldn’t have won without him. I wouldn’t be the hero that was needed that day, without him.”
“Do you and Bakugo ever talk about what happened?”
“Um…” He pauses. “ Not really, no. Not directly. Kacchan isn’t… he doesn’t talk like that. Not because he doesn’t care— he cares a lot, though he’d never admit it. But we don’t sit down and say, ‘let’s talk about the war’ That would be…” He laughs quietly. “That would be kind of impossible, I think.”
“Sometimes he’ll yell something small, like I’m standing wrong or I’m overdoing it, or I look like I’m about to pass out. And I know what he means, what he’s really saying.” He pauses again.
“And sometimes I’ll ask if his hands hurt. Or if he is sleeping okay. And he’ll get mad at me for asking, but he’ll answer anyways. That counts, for us.”
“There are things we haven’t said. A lot of things. But he was there. I was there. We know.”
Akiyama allows a long silence to stretch after his statement, the camera holding on his face before she moves forward again.
“You were a confirmed target of All For One. How aware of that were you, at the time?” she asks.
“Very,” Izuku says instantly.
“Once I understood the history of One For All, I knew... I knew I was a target.” He pauses, looking down at his hands. “And being a target puts everyone you love in danger. That was a hard truth to face, but there was no way to ignore it. That risk was always on my mind.”
“Is that why you left U.A.? When we first sighted you during your Vigilante months, it was the day your classmates came to bring you back.”
Izuku’s eyes go distant, glazed over like the room is replaced with rain.
“Yes. I was scared.” he admits.
“Of what, specifically?”
“Of being the reason my friends died.” He says flat and unmistakable. “U.A. had evacuees. Kids. Families. And I kept thinking… if they came for me there, it won’t just be me.”
The documentary cuts to footage of the shelter areas at U.A., sleeping mats, taped-off hallways, volunteers finding their way, and students making sense of their new reality.
“So you left to protect them?” she asks.
“That was the idea.”
“And when your classmates found you?”
Izuku’s mouth opens, then closes. A silence weighs through the room.
“…I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?” Akiyama repeats back in surprise.
“I told myself I was protecting them, that it was the only responsible choice. But when they found me... I realized I was just running. Making things worse for everyone.” He swallows. “And I was so tired. I don’t think I knew how bad it was until they made me stop.”
“What do you remember from that interaction?”
“My classmates.” His voice goes soft. “and Kacchan. His voice.”
“His apology?”
“Yeah.”
Akiyama watches him for a moment. “And then?”
“And then… I felt safe, even as everything went black,” he says. “I knew I was okay if I was with him.” A small smile touches his lips.
The documentary cuts to the earlier rooftop footage, where we see Izuku’s knees buckling, Bakugo’s arms outstretched, and then everything becomes a blur of bodies moving in.
“When you first received the offer to become All Might’s successor, did you fully understand what he was offering you? Did you feel chosen?” She asks.
“I don’t think I did, not really. At the time it felt like someone had opened a door I had spent my whole life pressing my hands against. I was being offered everything I’d ever wanted.” Izuku chuckles softly. “It’s embarrassing to say now, but… I felt seen. He’d told me I couldn’t be a hero, but then he saw me run toward the sludge villain. He found me after and said he was wrong. For the first time, someone besides my mom looked at me and saw me worthy of my dreams.”
“I just tried to make sure I earned it. I trained until I couldn’t move. I studied. I don’t know if anyone deserves that kind of power, but I made sure I was someone who wasn’t going to waste it.”
“Did you ever resent All Might for giving it to you? Does it feel like a burden?” She questions.
“No. Never.” He replied immediately. “There were moments where I was scared. Moments where I thought I was going to ruin everything, get someone killed because I wasn’t strong enough. But resent him? No.” He pauses. “All Might changed my life.”
“Present day,” Akiyama says, bringing them back. “What’s your day to day like now?”
“PT. Classes. Counseling. Volunteer work with rebuilds where I can.”
Akiyama let's that sit, then moves on.
“Your classmates, how important have they been in your recovery?”
Izuku’s eyes go glassy fast.
“They've been so wonderful.”
“Uraraka,” he says, his voice brightening for the first time. “She checks on me constantly, she won’t let me isolate. We have... real conversations, you know? We went through similar things and she's great at being vulnerable with our experiences.” He manages a small smile.
“Iida made me a schedule. It’s... very detailed. All my appointments, even meal times. And Todoroki-kun, he just comes and sits with me sometimes. We'll read manga, we don’t have to talk. It helps. Asui and Momo are always bringing me tea and little check ins. Mina keeps the spirit of high school going make sure I'm always up to date on the hottest gossip.”
“Everyone… everyone helps in their own way. Kirishima made sure we both showed up for physical therapy. Kaminari found ways to make me laugh when I thought I couldn’t. Jiro got me these noise-canceling headphones for when things get too loud, and she got Kacchan a matching pair.” He smiles at that. “Sero adapted his quirk to help with mobility tape, Sato keeps my sweet tooth alive and well, Hagakure leaves these really encouraging notes… Kota has the birds sing for me every morning… literally. Ojiro taught me yoga. Shoji and Tokoyami and I have a weekly film club now, something that's been nice to look forward to. They all found a way to be there and keep things feeling normal.”
When she asks what he wishes people understood, Izuku talks about how villains were still people, and how that truth is both necessary and unbearable.
He acknowledges, without flinching, that it will make viewers angry. But he needs to say it anyway.
“Do you believe people can be saved? And do you believe saving people is worth what it costs?”
“I still believe people can be saved. I have to. But I think… I understand now that saving someone doesn’t always look the way you want it to. My version of saving might be different from the person I’m trying to save. And it’s a price I don’t think anyone should have to pay alone.” Izuku delivers.
Then, when she asks who deserves recognition, he starts listing names like he’s building a wall of gratitude.
“Everyone. Civilian and hero. Every one of my classmates, and every student from every course at U.A.” He says instantly and with intense passion.
“Aizawa-sensei. All Might. Naomasa Tsukauchi and our entire police force, medical, rescue, and first aid response teams.”
“Cementoss. Ectoplasm. Powerloader. Snipe. Principal Nezu.”
“Endeavor. Onima. Kido. Gang Orca. Pixie-bob. Tiger. Hound Dog. Ms. Joke. Death Arms. Selkie. Sirius.”
“Hawks. Best Jeanist. Edgeshot. Mirko. Ryukyu. Mt. Lady. Kamui Woods. Fat Gum. Star and Stripe and her brothers. La Brava, Gentle Criminal. Mei Hatsume, Melissa Shield. Lady Nagant. Ketsubutsu Academy High School students. Even, Stain played a role in ending this war.”
“I can’t list everybody,” he says, frustration sharpening the edges of his voice.
“There were too many people doing the right thing, and it can be traced to decades ago, like a ripple effect. Every action led to something that brought us safely to now. There was never one person who could do this alone. It’s always been something we needed to do together.”
The documentary overlays a slow roll of images from the war’s aftermath: a hero’s soot-stained face, a civilian clutching a missing child, medics working under the harsh glare of a single floodlight. The footage is silent, punctuated only by the stark on-screen text of casualty numbers climbing.
Akiyama asks about PTSD and nightmares.
Izuku pauses before responding. “Yes. It’s not every night anymore, but it still happens. Often enough to still be considered a problem I’m working on.”
“What helps you in those moments?”
“I try the grounding exercises they tell you to do… Sometimes I write or put on a comfort film. Or I’ll have to text someone to distract my brain, even if it’s three in the morning, Uraraka sometimes. Or Todoroki.” He pauses, “and Kacchan. He checks in too.”
“What does he say?” Akiyama asks.
Izuku’s mouth lifts, fond and exasperated at the same time.
“‘You alive, Nerd?’” he imitates Bakugo with an endearing chuckle followed after.
“That’s his version of comfort?” Akiyama says, with a smile back.
“It is.” he says proudly. “And it helps me more than you think.”
Akiyama let's out a slow breath. Her eyes flick toward the camera operator, then back to Izuku.
“He’d hate this, huh?” she says.
Izuku smiles, “He really would.”
Akiyama bows, a grateful smile on her face.
“Thank you, Midoriya.”
“Thank you.”
The producer calls, “Cut.”
[TEXT ON SCREEN:]
KATSUKI BAKUGO, HERO LORD EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT,
YEAR 2 U.A. STUDENT
FIRST OFFICIAL INTERVIEW
“Thank you for being here, Katsuki.”
“Yeah.” He huffs, not saying thank you back.
The camera sits on him in a tight frame familiar to how Izuku’s had been recorded. He's sitting up, but his posture is a bit off, as if he's trying not to lean to one side because it hurts. His hands are resting on his thighs, and for a moment, his fingers start tapping away before he catches himself and stops.
“You agreed to the same terms as Midoriya. Ten years of documentation. Three weeks of filming a year. One solo interview and one joint interview a year.”
“Yeah, yeah. I signed the contract didn’t I?”
Akiyama nods thoughtfully and begins, “Six months later… How are you?”
“Peachy.”
Akiyama hums in question before Bakugo cuts in, “What do you expect me to say? Next.”
“Alright. What do you remember from final day of the war?”
He huffs, quiet. “Bits.”
“Only bits?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, only bits. And I haven’t seen any coverage, refused to watch it. So don’t ask me shit. I just have what other people have told me and the shi—stuff I do remember.” He shifts slightly in the chair.
“And what have people told you? There are reports that you died during battle and were revived mid-battle.”
“Yes.”
“What’s your understanding of what happened?”
“That ugly loser took me out. But I didn’t stay down.”
“Do you remember that moment?”
He paused, collection his thoughts. “…no.” He takes a deep breath. “But I remember what happened after.”
“What’s the first thing you remember after?”
He looks away for a moment. “…seeing him still out there.”
He doesn’t say the name.
“You got right back into the fight without hesitation. As soon as you were on your feet, you spotted Deku and just took off. What made you react like that?”
“Damn right, I did. It wasn’t over. There he was doing some insane shit, and I knew if I just got to him, he’d throw me where I needed to be. Because I knew we could fucking do it. We could win.”
“During the final fight, audio logs captured you saying the name ‘Kacchan Bakugo.’ Tell me about the history of that name.” Akiyama let's that sit.
Bakugo exhales through his nose. He shook his head, clearly frustrated with himself.
“I guess I wasn’t thinking straight.” He rolls his eyes and let's out a deep, annoyed sigh.
“Izuku came up with that name when we were kids.” He admits quietly. “He was trying to pronounce ‘Katsuki-chan’ but it came out ‘Kacchan’.”
He looks away from the interviewer and leans his face closer to camera, his face menacing, “ONLY the nerd can call me that, got it?”
“How has recovery been? Have you had to slow down significantly?”
“Pft. Whatever. Not by choice.”
“What’s that been like?”
He answers quick and sharp, “Incredibly fucking annoying.”
Akiyama almost smiles. “You and Midoriya were seen working in close coordination during the final battle.”
“Yeah, because we’re the strongest heroes ever, obviously.” He gives her a deadpan stare, his brow slightly furrowed.
“How would you describe your relationship?”
“What the hell kind of question is that? We’re classmates, future pro heroes. Next.” he scoffs.
“With Midoriya, what is your dynamic like right now between you two?”
“I don’t know… Normal.”
Akiyama waits. Bakugo sighs, like he knows he has to give more.
“…we don’t have to think.”
“What do you mean?” she presses.
“Izuku and I. We don’t have to think. He knows what I’m doing before I do it.” He clears his throat before adding, “…and I know when he’s about to do something stupid.”
“Our footage began with you confronting him during his vigilante period.”
His shoulders tense slightly. “A great example of him being stupid and me stopping said stupidity.”
“You disagreed with his approach?”
“…obviously. I mean, I probably would have done the exact same thing but…” He drifts off, not knowing what else there really is to say.
“What were you trying to accomplish when you went after him?”
His expression goes distant, his eyes unfocused and fixed on something just past the camera.
“To bring him back. Figure it out together. As a team. The extras had some shit to say to him. I did too.”
“Do you want to expand on that?” she asks.
“…no. I said what I needed to.”
“Alright, let's bring it forward. What does your day-to-day look like now?”
“Rehab. Training. School. Therapy.”
“How is your support system been during your recovery?”
“Persistent.”
“That’s similar to how Midoriya answered.” Akiyama says, watching his response.
“Yeah? …guess we’re on the same page, then.”
“What matters most to you right now? What is your current goal?”
He answers faster this time. “Getting back to full strength.”
“And after that?”
“Becoming the number one hero. That’s always been the goal.”
“We’re looking forward to that. Thank you, Bakugo.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Cut.”
[TEXT ON SCREEN:]
U.A. CAMPUS — ONE YEAR POST-WAR
The camera opens on a wide shot of the U.A. cafeteria. Sunlight pools on tables littered with textbooks and bento boxes. The low hum of hundreds of conversations is cut by a sudden burst of laughter from a nearby group. Students weave between crowded tables, trays in hand, calling out to friends as the camera slowly pans to find its subjects.
“Dang, Blasty you have a whole paparazzi crew following you!”
“Don’t pay them any attention, Pinky. They’re not here for you.”
Ashido shoots back with a sassy tone, “I know, I just said they were following you. Jeez, someone’s nervous for their camera close up, huh?”
Kirishima’s face lights up. “Yeah, man, I think it’s totally cool what you and Mido are doing! I can’t believe they’re going to be following you around for ten whole years!”
“Poor Izuku, ten more years of Bakugo yelling at him except this time it's on camera for the world to see.” Denki teases.
“Enough, you’re all just jealous they don’t want a feature on you extras.” Bakugo barks back.
Mina says with a playful smile, “No, they just want to follow ‘The Wonder Duo’ around.” Her voice is laced with a flirtatious teasing tone.
“Shut. Up.” He delivers disturbingly quiet to the table.
“Well that’s not necessarily true!” Denki chimes back in. “They had us all sign and give contact information and said that they would be doing side interviews throughout the years too. So, who knows, we may just be featured!” he proudly counters.
“Okay... but seriously dude, are they treating you well?” Sero leans forward slightly, his voice lower. “Don’t let them push you if you aren’t ready.”
Bakugo replies casually, “They’re fine. They said the same cheesy shit.” He matches Sero’s tone back, and then adds even softer, “You don’t need to worry.”
Before anyone could respond, a blur of steel blue shot past the camera and screeched to a halt at the end of the table—Ingenium, engine exhaust still curling from his calves.
“Bakugo! It’s almost noon. Have you taken your medication? Remember, it’s best on a full stomach!” Iida reminds him.
“Yeah, yeah, Class Pres. We do this every damn day for a year, I already took them.” he says as if he’s repeated it a million times already.
Trailing behind Iida, at a much slower pace, was Ochaco and Izuku finally catching up.
“Very well then, enjoy the rest of your lunch period everyone!” and just as fast as he arrived, he left.
“Ugh, not again! Iida— wait up!!” Ochaco rushes after him.
Izuku, left awkwardly standing alone now, hesitates for a moment before carefully speaking up.
“Um… hey, Kacchan. Just a heads up, the crew is planning our first interview together after lunch. So, whenever you’re ready just let me know and we can go down together.”
Bakugo squints at Izuku like he suspects something he can’t figure out yet.
“Did you eat yet, nerd?”
He shakes his head, an almost imperceptible wince crossing his face. “No… I don’t know if I’m really hungry right now.” he says, his eyes avoiding Bakugo’s.
Bakugo opens up his bento box and pulls out a round thermos, “Here. I made soup last night, I’m already full so just take it. Don’t make a big deal out of it and don’t argue. No one needs to see hero Deku fainting on camera.”
Izuku settles in with the thermos. The tension in his shoulders releases as he takes the first spoonful of soup, a small, genuine smile appearing for the first time since he arrived.
“Wow. Thanks, Kacchan. This is delicious!”
Bakugo doesn't say a word, but a tiny smile starts to creep onto his face, and he tries to cover it up by taking a big bite of his lunch.
[TEXT ON SCREEN:]
FIRST JOINT INTERVIEW WITH DEKU AND DYNAMIGHT AT U.A. HIGH SCHOOL
ONE YEAR AFTER THE WAR
The camera opens in a wide shot of a simple set, with two empty chairs. The rustling sound of a media team can be heard in the background, and two sets of footsteps getting louder as they approach from behind the left side of the camera.
“Do you want the left or the right side, Kacchan?”
“I don’t care, let's just get this over with.”
Bakugo and Deku finally reach into the frame, settling into the interview chairs, Bakugo walking in first and sitting on the right, with Deku on the left.
“You taking the outside chair so I can’t bolt?” Bakugo says, gesturing toward the empty seats.
“Kacchan… You know we can leave at any moment. We talked about this.” Deku ducks his head to follow Bakugo’s eyes that are actively turned away. “Hey, look at me.” he persists.
Bakugo’s eyes lazily shift to meet Deku’s, “Alright… yeah, I know. Sorry.” Then adding a frustrated “Fuck.”
Deku reaches his hand over and does two quick pats on the top of Bakugo’s knee before he turns and faces the camera properly with a confident expression saying, “We’re ready.”
“Thank you both for being here today for your first official interview together.”
“Thank you for having us, Mrs. Akiyama.” Izuku bows in respect while still seated, Bakugo gives a slight nod of his head in agreement.
“It’s been a year since the war ended. Six months since your solo interviews. How are you both doing now?”
“Better. We’re doing better.” Izuku says, his voice filled with soft optimism. “We’re both pretty much cleared for training and light patrols. We still have physical therapy, and we’re learning to adapt to our new limitations.” he trails off looking to Bakugo for any reaction.
“We’re better.” Bakugo finishes in agreement for Izuku.
Akiyama nods to Bakugo's sling.
"Kacchan just had a surgery for his elbow, removing some bolts he had put in last year for recovery, he will be ready for work in a week!"
“Tell us about those adaptations. What other kind of changes have your bodies experienced and how does that affect your hero work?”
Izuku starts to answer but is abruptly cut off by a paranoid Bakugo.
“Why would we tell you that? For all the loser villains to watch and know our weaknesses and use them against us? Don’t bother, idiots. Even with complications we can kick your ass!” He snarls to the camera.
“This film won’t be released for another nine years, Bakugo,” Akiyama says, trying to ease his concern.
“Yeah but this shit is lifelong now, isn’t it?” he says as if it’s such an obvious answer and everyone in the room is dumb for not knowing.
“Alright, fair enough, we can move on.”
Deku gives an apologetically warm face to Akiyama, “Thank you” he mouths silently.
“What has your public reception been like?”
“It’s a real mix, to be honest. Some people are very kind and supportive, some put us on pedestals we don’t belong on—“
Bakugo interrupts, his voice sharp with confidence, “Speak for yourself, nerd!! I deserve the pedestal, you can be humble all you want, but I know I’m the best and I’m not afraid to say it. It’s about time more people finally realize it too!”
“Fine… Like I was saying… some can be nice, some can be para-social, some can be… really weird.”
“Weird, how?” Akiyama questions.
Bakugo can't help but crack a smile as he looks at Deku with a mixture of amusement and teasing. "Yeah, Izuku, how? Wanna tell them about your very own fan page?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, the one that's entirely dedicated to photos and videos of your, ahem, thighs?" He chuckles to himself, clearly entertained by the idea, and Deku's likely reaction to it.
Izuku sinks into his interview chair, shoulders curling inward, chin dropping toward his chest until he seems to take up half the space he did a moment ago.
He says no at first, but then he pauses, sits up a little straighter, and says, "But... I could talk about the 'DynamitePlsYellAtMe' account," with a sly grin on his face.
Bakugo freezes looking over at Izuku, “You wouldn’t.” He warns.
A moment of tense silence blankets the room before Akiyama adds more gas to the fire. “What about the people who ‘ship DynaDeku’? Shall we talk about that too?” she humorously asks.
“NO!” they both shout.
“Alright alright,” she laughs, “Moving forward, then. What is next for you both?”
Bakugo answers quick, “Graduation next year, then I’m going to be the number one pro hero. Duh. Same as when you asked me six months ago and it’ll be the same answer when you ask me next year.”
“Are you going to open your own Agency or have a hero partner?”
“I’ll open my own someday. I’ll sidekick for a while somewhere for the experience, but when I’m ready of course I’ll open my own. Probably no hero partner, unless they say they can surpass me—I’d work with them instantly.”
Deku’s posture shifts at that, the corner of his mouth turning up for just a second before he schools his expression.
“And you, Midoriya?”
He glances over at Bakugo, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes before he speaks.
“Graduation with the rest of our classmates. And then, after that… I’ll be heading to University. I’ve decided to follow in All Might and Aizawa-Sensei’s footsteps and pursue teaching.”
Bakugo is caught on camera shooting Izuku a sharp side-eye as he speaks. As Izuku continues, Bakugo’s expression goes blank, his gaze fixed on something beyond the camera.
“Teaching,” she repeats after him. Not drawing attention to the look Bakugo gives him.“Was that always the plan?”
“No, it’s a shift. But… I think it’s what makes sense for me now. I still want to be part of this…” He glances at Bakugo, then the floor. “Just in a way that’s sustainable.”
Akiyama waits. “You mean because of the embers?”
Izuku looks down at his scarred hands. “They won’t last forever. They’re already weaker than they were a year ago. It’s not something I can count on anymore. I knew that was the price. So… I’m planning for what comes after.”
Bakugo’s lip curls and he shoves his gaze toward the wall.
“And what does that mean when that officially happens?”
Izuku answers without hesitation. “I’ll be quirkless again.”
The camera flashes images of a young Izuku Midoriya in his various All Might merch growing up.
“You both trained under All Might,” she says, easing back into it. “But Midoriya, you were his successor.”
“Yes. That is how I inherited One For All.” He clears his throat. “All Might was also born Quirkless. We learned during the war that the quirk was too strong for wielders who already had one. They died young, of old age. Being quirkless meant our bodies could handle it.”
“But you gave it up,” Akiyama states.
“It was the only way to defeat Shigaraki and end One For All for good. It was the right decision.”
“When you started at U.A., nobody had any idea about your connection to All Might? They didn’t know about All For One or One For All?”
“No. Even I didn’t know the full extent of it when I first inherited the power. It wasn’t until the targeted attacks on our class and All Might that he let me in on the history of where it originated. The history I was now a part of.”
“How early did you learn all this, Bakugo?” she pull him into the conversation. “That Midoriya had inherited One For All and the responsibility that came with it?”
Bakugo scoffs, “I caught on pretty quickly. They were so damn obvious, not exactly subtle. They’re lucky no one else is as sharp as I am.”
Izuku glances over at him, surprised by how easily he said it.
“What was that like for you, Midoriya? Growing into that role of a symbol, especially coming from a quirkless background?”
Izuku exhales slowly.
“It was a strange feeling” A pause. “I spent most of my life being told what I couldn’t do, who I couldn’t be.” He looks down, then back up. “So when it finally did happen, when my dream had been handed to me, it felt like I was borrowing something. It took me a while to figure out how to make it feel like my own. Having to decide I deserved this chance was a really big mental hurdle.”
“And now?”
Another pause.
“…now I understand what it costs to be that kind of symbol. I got to live my dream, even if for a moment. It was a really, really important moment I’m forever a part of.”
“There’s been a lot of discussion about your childhood dynamic.” Akiyama starts on a new question.
Photos flash across the screen. Izuku and Katsuki at four years old, knees scabbed grinning almost too wide for their faces.
A middle school graduation class photo. Izuku a smudge of green in the far back left bleachers, almost swallowed by taller students in front of him. Katsuki on the front row, far right, standing tall and annoyed.
Akiyama let's the images linger, letting the moment shift into something sensitive before continuing again.
Both heroes straighten in their chairs at the question.
“Some people have used the words ‘bully’ and ‘bullied.’ How would you describe that time?”
“Complicated.” Izuku inhales slowly. “That was a different time, we were young, and there was a lot of miscommunication happening—“
“I was an asshole.” Bakugo cuts in.
Izuku looks over surprised. He opens to try and speak but is cut off again.
“I was! Don’t defend me or try and make excuses on my behalf. I was an ass. I was younger, yeah. miscommunication , sure. But it was me that made it difficult. It was me being cruel. I was scared and angry and in denial, and I made it his problem any chance I could get. That was my fault and I own up to it.”
“And now?” Akiyama asks.
“I don’t know. I’m trying not to waste it.”
He looks down at his hands.
“The second chance. Whatever.”
Izuku’s eyes are fixed on Bakugo, unblinking. Tears fill his eyes, but he doesn’t look away.
“Last question.” Akiyama says after a long moment.
They both look up at the same time, breaking the long silence they’d held staring at each other.
Footsteps approach off camera, louder as they get near, followed by the whispery shuffle of gear and people repositioning. A hand slips into frame holding two pieces of paper and two pens. Akiyama passes them off, each hero takes one, giving a quick puzzled look at her.
“This one isn’t for the camera.”
“Then why are we even doing it?” Bakugo sasses.
“I’d like you each to answer it privately. I’ll ask the same question every year. You’ll write your answer, fold it, and return it to me.”
Izuku leans forward in his chair slightly, “And we don’t tell each other?”
“Not if you don’t want to. After the project is done you can have it back as a keepsake. It’ll be interesting to see how it changes over time.”
They both exchanged a quick look to each other.
“What’s the question?” Izuku asks. Bakugo leans forward slightly, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“How would you define the other person, right now?”
They both freeze, staring blank with their gaze locked forward. They sit like that for a moment, still as a challenge, waiting for the other to break first.
Izuku is the first to move.
He picks up the pen, but doesn’t write right away. His thumb presses along the side of it, turning it over in his hand as he thinks deeply. His eyes flick briefly toward Bakugo, then back down to the paper as he begins to write.
When he finishes, he pauses just for a moment, then folds the paper creating a light, crisp, new crease evenly across the center.
Bakugo doesn’t reach for his paper, even after Izuku finishes. His eyes are fixed on Izuku, watching him fold the note and hand it back to Akiyama. He just stares, his own expression completely neutral.
“…done already?”
Izuku nods.
He gave a genuine smile, looking directly at him, and said, “Yeah, the hardest part was choosing just one word.”
Bakugo clicks his tongue softly, then leans in, snatching the pen quickly in one swift motion. In contrast to Izuku’s deliberation, he snatches the pen and writes immediately. The scratching of the nib is audible, the motion fast and decisive. When he’s done, he folds the paper in one sharp, uneven crease and slides it back across the table without a second glance.
Akiyama doesn’t open it, she just takes the paper and quietly slips it into a folder labeled ‘BK/DK’
“Thank you,” she says.
Izuku nods immediately. “Thank you for having us.”
Bakugo leans back slightly and exhales. “Yeah.”
“Cut.” the producer calls. “That’s a wrap for the duo, please tell Eraserhead he will be needed on set in 15”
The camera view changes to the behind the scene wide angle, capturing the crew as they begin to break down the set behind the two heroes.
The background erupts into motion. A stagehand shouts, “Rolling back!” as another coils a thick cable. A radio crackles with instructions, punctuated by the scrape of heavy equipment across the floor.
The video slowly pans in onto the two heroes still in their chairs.
Izuku glances at Bakugo, eyes shining in the light.
“…what did you write?” he says softly.
“None of your business.” Bakugo says without looking up. “… You?”
“Same answer.” Izuku smiles teasingly as he gets up from the chair, making his way out of the room.
Bakugo follows right behind him, with a roll of his eyes and the hint of a smile.
[TEXT ON SCREEN]
END YEAR ONE