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"Come again?" Hitoshi says after a beat of silence and Aizawa gives him a look that speaks of his disappointment, his worry, his tiredness.
He always was a master in wrapping it all up in one and hide his softer feelings with the annoyance, but Hitoshi has gotten good at reading his looks over the years.
"You're on mandatory leave," Aizawa sighs out and Hitoshi rolls his eyes because that sure as fuck is not the part he stumbled over.
"Not that, I know the fucking protocol. What was that about Bakugou?"
Because surely he must have heard that wrong. Because surely there is no way in hell that Bakugou lost his arm and needs looking after right now.
Aizawa pinches the bridge of his nose, radiating 'I'd rather be anywhere than here' right about now and Hitoshi has to agree.
If he did say that then Hitoshi wants to be anywhere but here, too. Preferably in a world where those words didn't get uttered at all.
"Bakugou got hurt during his last mission and it was bad," Aizawa says, again, as if saying it once more would change any of the fact. "His arm was horrifically injured and since it was the weaker one there was nothing to be done but to amputate it."
"You amputated Bakugou's arm. Together with his hand. Where his quirk is located," Hitoshi slowly repeats and Aizawa gives him a judging look for it. "How's he dealing with that?"
He probably should be more in the loop, he has been back for two days after all, but coming back out of a deep undercover mission is always a little fucky, and up until now Hitoshi wasn't allowed his phone.
"As well as you would expect," Aizawa replies which gives Hitoshi exactly nothing.
Because knowing Bakugou that can either mean he's about to implode and kill himself and everyone in the vicinity or he's seeing it as another obstacle he has to overcome and is therefore pushing himself on his training way before he’s ready or even medically cleared for it.
"Suspiciously vague," Hitoshi mutters, pushing a hand through his hair. "And why do I need to babysit him?"
"One, you're not supposed to be alone for the next two weeks, so you can properly adjust to normal life again," Aizawa counts off and Hitoshi pulls a face at that.
It always sounds so condescending when Aizawa says it as if holing himself up in his apartment for two weeks and then claiming he's back for good was so bad that one time and okay, maybe on the next mission Hitoshi did got lost in his head and maybe he did get a bit more violent than the mission really required and maybe there has been a plan put into place for maximum psychological coverage after that and maybe he hates it with a passion.
Hitoshi doesn't need to be babysat.
"Stop giving me that attitude, you know exactly why that's happening," Aizawa chides him and Hitoshi presses his lips together.
"Why can't I stay with you," he wants to know, because he normally does, Aizawa is a safe constant after his missions, always has been and to have that changed leaves him more unmoored than he would like.
"Two, everyone with enough power to subdue you should they have to is occupied with the fall-out of the fight and the villain. Who is still at large," Aizawa says as if it's a reminder, but to Hitoshi all of this is news.
"What do you mean, still at large? Bakugou didn't get him?"
He somehow expected Bakugou to still have completed the mission, to have won the fight, no matter if he's short a limb or not but Aizawa gives him a look as if he's stupid and Hitoshi shuts the hell up.
"Three, Bakugou has threatened homicide should any of his friends even come near, so that doesn't leave us with very many options."
Right. Great. It's two birds with one stone, for Aizawa and the fact that he clearly doesn't consider Bakugou and Hitoshi friends doesn't sting at all.
Especially not because they aren't, not quite, not really; they are antagonistic at the best of times, prodding and poking each other as much as they can, sharp words and sharper smiles and why the hell does Aizawa think that this is a good idea?
"You have full authorisation to use your quirk," Aizawa finally tells him as he slides over a key and an address. "Don't fuck this up."
Charming. Absolutely charming, and Hitoshi wants to argue, because this feels more like a mission than some of the actual missions he's gotten in the past, but Aizawa looks tired—more haggard than he normally does and so Hitoshi swallows it all down.
He wants Hitoshi to look after Bakugou? Fine.
Hitoshi has aced his every mission so far, and this is not going to be any different.
~*~*~
It takes Hitoshi two days, one split lip and three rounds of mind control to realise that he's not babysitting Bakugou.
He's on suicide watch for him.
Because Bakugou is dealing very badly with the loss of his arm. He's near catatonic except for the moments where he's filled with such a rage that he nearly takes out the entire apartment, or such deep sadness that he chokes on his own sobs and in between all of that he's suicidal.
Hitoshi would love to file an official complaint about this, because he's supposed to be on recovery as well, his own mandatory leave is so he doesn't turn into a nut-job but it's more than obvious why they need him here.
Bakugou is a ticking time-bomb—quite literally—and despite the vicious way he normally fights, Hitoshi doesn't have to entertain that.
One command from his is enough to take control, seeing as he is no longer in need of a verbal response to anything he says, and Hitoshi doesn't think any of their friends could control Bakugou.
None of them would have the heart to, because Bakugou is a pathetic mess, if Hitoshi were to be honest, and he hates Aizawa a little bit for this, for the assumption that Hitoshi isn't going to care, at least not enough to be impacted by it but most of all Hitoshi hates himself because Aizawa is right.
This is a mission; he has a very clear objective and that is to keep Bakugou alive until he worked through his desperation and own self-hatred. He's here to keep Bakugou alive long enough for him to come out stronger on the other side but—
It's hard.
It's really goddamn hard to see him like this, because for all that they are not typical friends, they are friends and seeing Bakugou so hurt, so small and so desperate—it leaves Hitoshi hurting, too.
Especially when he has to stop him from blowing his own brains out.
"Will you stop that," Hitoshi mutters as he gently tugs Bakugou's hand away from his head. "I won't let you, so stop trying."
He expects a "Fuck you" to be spit at him, defiance burning bright in Bakugou’s eyes as he takes his words as a challenge, but he's under Hitoshi's quirk, so his eyes are clouded over, lifeless, listless, just like the rest of his body and it almost feels wrong to take Bakugou's hand in his before he drops his quirk again.
Bakugou blinks for a few moments, before his gaze falls down onto their clasped hands and for a split second Hitoshi thinks he's going to do it, that he's going to activate his quirk and blow off both of Hitoshi's hands and then his own head but nothing happens.
Hitoshi sighs.
"All good again?" he wants to know and Bakugou's gaze flits up to his face before he stares off into nothing again and that is almost more scary than everything else.
It seems as if there is no fight left in Bakugou, as if he's a shell of his former self and Hitoshi hates it with a passion.
Bakugou is supposed to be larger than life, bright and loud and demanding, he's supposed to take up space, no matter what and to see him like this is fucking more with Hitoshi's head than he would like to admit.
Still, he stays; he stays because it's his job and because this is Bakugou and leaving would mean letting Bakugou give up and Hitoshi is not going to let that happen.
He'll keep him alive until Bakugou can muster the strength on his own again even though it's hard.
He's mostly keeping Bakugou quiet company, just a presence in his otherwise empty and silent apartment, but for all that Hitoshi is good at talking, he's run out of words during the first two days and Bakugou hasn't given any indication that he's even hearing a single thing Hitoshi is saying.
So he saves his words, and is just there. Always there. Always watching. Always ready to throw out his quirk and stop Bakugou from killing himself until he's ready to talk, to scream, to cry, to put into words how this is making him feel.
Because that is coming, Hitoshi knows it.
He never had to deal with a loss of a limb, but his quirk got taken away from him once and losing himself in his undercover work is almost a given and Hitoshi knows that sometimes, after a mission, blessed emptiness is all there is, until everything else comes rushing back, too.
He just has to keep Bakugou alive long enough for that to happen.
But it's going on two weeks now and Hitoshi is starting to get worried. They have visitors, of course they do—doctors, and physical therapy and normal therapy, both for Bakugou and Hitoshi, but Bakugou never reacts to any of them, lets their words wash over him and continues to stare off into nothing.
It's on day fifteen when Hitoshi finally tries to speak to him again. Bakugou is sitting on the couch, remaining hand limp in his lap as he stares at the TV as if he's seeing even a single thing happening on there and really, Hitoshi would prefer him to scream and rage because this version of Bakugou is freaking him out.
"Firecracker, you have to come back eventually," Hitoshi says, his eyes fixed on Bakugou instead of the TV and so he sees the exact moment exquisite rage overtakes him.
"Shut up," Bakugou screams and he throws himself across the space on the couch, hand stretched out and crackling as if he wants to blow Hitoshi to bits and Hitoshi doesn't even use his quirk, he just slaps the hand away and end up with a lapful of enraged Bakugou for his trouble.
"Don't call me that, don't call me that, don't call me that," Bakugou screeches, scrabbling at Hitoshi as if he's so desperate to hurt him any way he can that he even forgot about his own quirk and Hitoshi gladly takes it because this is good, this is more emotion than he has seen on him in days.
"What, firecracker?" he asks, can't help but to prod and Bakugou lets out a sound of pure desperation. "Why not?"
And just like that all that rage flips into desperate, heaving sobs, Bakugou curling up on Hitoshi and pressing his face into his chest as if he could burrow in there and disappear completely and Hitoshi's heart breaks for him.
But that doesn't mean he's going to back down.
"'s not true, not anymore, I'm nothing," Bakugou wails out and Hitoshi lets out a measured breath.
"Bakugou, you're still you," Hitoshi says, holding Bakugou close. "Being a firecracker has nothing to do with your quirk and everything to do with your personality, and as far as I know that wasn't located in your right arm."
It's callous, it's borderline cruel but Hitoshi always preferred those words over the soothing, lying ones himself and he thinks Bakugou might be the same.
They are not built for the level of comfort people like Denki and Midoriya dish out or need themselves, and Hitoshi is here for a reason.
Aizawa knows them too well, after all.
"I hate you," Bakugou says, but he stills in Hitoshi's arms and he takes that as a win.
"Tell that to someone who cares. Now, can we talk about this?" he wants to know and Bakugou presses his face even harder against Hitoshi's sternum.
"No."
"Great, then you'll be quiet and I'll talk," Hitoshi decides because he needs this to be over.
He needs Bakugou back to his fiery self, quirk aside, and if that means beating him when he's down, then Hitoshi will.
"You're more than your quirk," he starts with and immediately, Bakugou tenses. "You lost half of it, you lost a limb and that sucks, it has to suck, I get that, but you're more than your right arm and I need you to remember that."
"I'm not a hero without my quirk."
"Aren't you?" Hitoshi gives back because to him, Bakugou has always been a hero, long before he officially debuted, before he climbed the ranks.
His ferocious will, his drive, his spark has always meant more to Hitoshi than whatever the hell his quirk did.
"So your hard work, your will, the hours and hours of training you put into everything, your wit, your snark, your fire and your enjoyment of life, all of that means nothing all of a sudden, just because you lost one arm? I always thought you're smarter than that."
"Shows how little you know," Bakugou says, but he's no longer hiding his face, he's not raging or catatonic or crying and that is more progress than Hitoshi has seen in all the time he’s been here so he continues talking.
"So you're saying Midoriya is not a hero? You're saying he's nothing now that the ember flickered out?"
It’s a low blow, because Hitoshi knows that in Bakugou’s eyes Midoriya has always been larger than life itself but if he needs to take this route to make him see that the same goes for him, then so be it.
"You shut your mouth about Deku," Bakugou hisses and looks up at him, digging his chin painfully into Hitoshi's chest and he relishes in it, because it's a reaction.
"Why should I? He's just a civilian, just some stupid nobody, he's nothing because he doesn't have a quirk."
Bakugou growls at him, honest to god growls, like a feral animal and a second later he has his hand wrapped around Hitoshi's throat, his eyes blazing with a fire that was painfully absent the last two weeks.
"He's a hero and you don't get to talk about him like that," Bakugou snarls and Hitoshi gives him a vicious smile before he flips them around on the couch, presses Bakugou into the cushions with his weight as he bares his teeth at him.
"So are you," he mercilessly says. "You're worth more than your stupid quirk and it's time you remember that. You spent the last two weeks broken on the ground but it's time that you fucking put yourself back together again. This is a challenge, but you overcame literal death and this should be nothing to you, it should be a joke to you and yet you let it destroy you. Why?"
Bakugou blinks up at him, his eyes wide and painfully lost and Hitoshi hates to see him like that but he needs to drive his point home because he fears he is not going to get another change.
"Midoriya found something to do, and he lost his quirk. You just lost an arm and didn't you boast after the war that you could now excrete your sweat everywhere, that you no longer needed just your hands? You were so arrogant, so cocky as you said it, where did that Bakugou go, huh?"
"Shut up," Bakugou whispers, tears spilling down his temples as he fists his hand in Hitoshi's shirt. "Shut up. I don’t know who I am without my quirk so shut up!”
"No, you listen to me," Hitoshi quietly says and leans down until their noses are almost touching. "You’re not! You still have it, you just need to learn to work with your new circumstances. And even if you lost your quirk completely, you can still figure it out, you can be someone new! You're more than just your quirk and you're more than your right arm. Get a grip and remember that."
"Easier said than done," Bakugou chokes out and Hitoshi rolls his eyes.
"You think everyone is not already working on it? You think there's technology out there to imitate most of Midoriya's quirks but not yours? You're going to walk out of this with something akin to an Iron Man arm, something that will allow you to fly and explode villains and do your goddamn job and everyone is already working on it. They are just waiting for you to get your head out of your goddamn ass!"
Bakugou slaps his hand over his eyes, crying and sobbing and curling in on himself and Hitoshi lets him, moves just enough to be able to pull him into his arms and rock him like a child because this—this is good.
These are not the desperate wails of someone wishing to die, but the cathartic ones of someone ready to move on and Hitoshi can feel his own eyes water.
Bakugou's cries are devastating, of course they are, but he's finally grieving and that means he can move past this, can move on and push through and Hitoshi is so relieved he has to hide his own tears in Bakugou’s hair.
Hitoshi is under no illusion that this is over, that Bakugou is magically fixed, that this one talk healed all of his wounds, but Bakugou found his will to live again and everything else will come.
Bakugou is too strong for anything else after all. He just needed to remember that.