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Take my Name out of Your Mouth (You Don't Deserve to Mourn)

Summary:

Bakugou stares into space as the rest of his classmates cry and beg Aoyama to tell them he’s innocent.
They’re pleading with a traitor, shedding tears for him.
Aoyama gave the League of Villains the leak.
He was the reason Bakugou was captured.
He was the reason he sat in that dank, crappy room chained to a wall, tortured and helpless.
He was the reason Bakugou couldn’t sleep at night, the nightmares so vivid and terrifying that when he woke, he was drenched in sweat, shuddering and sobbing uncontrollably. 
If Aoyama hadn’t tipped the League off, Bakugou wouldn’t be fucked in the head like he was now.
OR
Bakugou gets to be angrier at Aoyama when the traitor is revealed.

Notes:

Hi lovely peoples! This is my very first fic, so if you wouldn't mind being gentle, that would be good news for my fragile ego. I wrote this for fun, and I hope you enjoy!! If you want to request I write something else, feel free! I may add another chapter, but I feel like it's fine as a standalone. Lmk, and enjoy!!

 

(PS I copy and pasted this from another doc I wrote it on so it didn't save all of the indents my bad)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

*a retelling of Class-1A finding out Aoyama was a traitor… this diverges from the plot, it isn't supposed to be accurate, just for funsies*

 

“C’mon man, say it isn’t true!” Kirishima shouts at Aoyama, his voice cracking at the end, as he stares desperately at the boy he considered a friend, waiting for him to confirm it was all a mistake, some villain plot to divide them. Aoyama can’t meet his eyes, tears dripping down his cheeks, puddling on the floor. 

 

Bakugou stares into space as the rest of his classmates cry and beg Aoyama to tell them he’s innocent.

They’re pleading with a traitor, shedding tears for him.

Aoyama gave the League of Villains the leak.

He was the reason Bakugou was captured.

He was the reason he sat in that dank, crappy room chained to a wall, tortured and helpless.

He was the reason Bakugou couldn’t sleep at night, the nightmares so vivid and terrifying that when he woke, he was drenched in sweat, shuddering and sobbing uncontrollably. 

If Aoyama hadn’t tipped the League off, Bakugou wouldn’t be fucked in the head like he was now. He wouldn’t have been the ‘almost villain’ hero. The future hero who might have cracked under the pressure if All Might had come even an hour later. 

 

Bakugou’s body shook with barely contained rage.

 

Before anyone could stop him, Bakugou strode forward to Aoyama’s chair, ignoring the protests from the traitorous parents as his hand shot out and gripped the other blonde’s hair, forcing his tear-stained face to look at him. 

 

“Look at me.” Bakugou growled, his voice quiet.

Aoyama averted his gaze, trying to pull away from the iron grip Bakugou had on his hair.

The spiky haired blonde tightened his grip, twisting and making Aoyama cry out. Bakugou heard footsteps behind him, but he turned and snarled at them.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” He yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls, giving it an eerie echo. Midoriya froze, his hand partially outstretched for his friend, but he stepped back, albeit a bit reluctantly.

 

Bakugou turned back to the traitor.

“WHY WON’T YOU LOOK AT ME?”

Bakugou screamed.

“YOU’RE THE REASON I’M SO FUCKED UP. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID TO ME IN THERE?”

Silence greeted his outburst.

Bakugou’s voice hissed through his teeth, like it pained him to bring up that awful night. (It did.)

“They tortured me. Made me watch while they carved me up, trying to make me break.”

Aoyama flinched, but still averted his gaze.

“I haven’t slept more that five hours since that fucking night.” His breath shuddered in his chest, making his voice shake. “I’ve spent months of my life trying to trust people again. To trust our class. And you fuck it all up for some goddamn navel laser.”

Bakugou’s breathing sped up, his eyes wild with anger. He pushed his face closer to Aoyama, until he was practically spitting in his face. 

“LOOK AT ME!” He shouted, rattling the chair Aoyama was chained to. 

Somehow, his face was still averted.

“I- Bakugou, I’m sorry-“

A hard slap rings out, making Bakugou’s classmates gasp.

“TAKE MY NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH.” Bakugou screamed, his voice ripping out of his throat, palm sparking with tiny explosions as Aoyama’s head snapped to the side, shock finally making the traitor look at the other boy. Hot tears pricked at the edges of Bakugou’s vision, and he blinked them away rapidly. 

“You don’t deserve forgiveness,” Bakugou spat the words like bile. “I hate you.”

Aoyama was still staring at him, one side of his snot-covered face turning an ugly shade of red.

“I hope you and your idiot parents rot in prison. Your tongue should be cut out and shoved down your throat so you can never hurt us again.”

Bakugou released Aoyama’s hair and stepped back, his emotions betrayed by the crack in his voice. 

“If I see you after this, one of us is going to the graveyard.” Bakugou turned, but looked back at Aoyama with a murderous glint in his red eyes, saying the words with enough force to rip down a wall.

“And it’s not going to be me.”

 

With that, he turned and walked back to the class, who had watched the whole ordeal with wide eyes just a few feet away. Bakugou took his place between Kaminari and Kirishima, keeping his head down, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. He felt Kirishima’s hand tentatively rest on his shoulder. Bakugou didn’t react. His main priority right now was keeping a lid on the tears threatening his composure.

 Aizawa cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the room.

“Kids, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. There’s an empty classroom a few doors down. When we’re done here, we’ll come get you.” He said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Not like anyone tried. 

Everyone filed out of the room, leaving Aoyama and his family behind. Bakugou didn’t turn back to look at him like some of the other students, too concentrated on controlling his expression. Kirishima kept his hand clasped on Bakugou’s shoulder, steering him gently down the hall and into the new classroom, so Bakugou didn’t have to look up. Iida held the door open, letting everyone inside before shutting it with a soft click.

The classroom looked like it hadn’t been used in a while, with the chairs stacked atop one another in neat rows towards the back of the room, and the desks lining the walls to leave a large open space in the middle of the floor. An old lectern was collecting dust at the front of the room, a few steps leading up to it creaking as some of the class sat down on them. Others perched on the desks, and the rest took up residence on the cold, tiled floor. 

For a moment, no one made a sound, just absorbing everything that had happened.

Then, a sniffle came from one of the desks, and everyone turned to see Hagakure shaking with sobs, the only evidence of her doing so the shaking of her uniform and the tear stains spreading on the fabric pressed to where her face would be. Ojirou, who had sat on the desk closest to her, wrapped an arm around the girl and held her close, tail curling around the duo as her body shook with her anguish.

Around the room, more cries began to fill the air, everyone seeking comfort in their friends.

 

Bakugou stared into space, willing his eyes to remain dry. Kaminari nudged him, jolting Bakugou from his stupor. 

“You good man? You kinda zoned out there.” Kaminari looked concerned, and Bakugou hated it. He shouldn’t have blown up like that in front of everyone. Now they knew how messed up he was, how weak he was for letting that kidnapping get to him. How evil he was. Why had he said all of that? No one was supposed to hear those ugly thoughts.

“I’m fine, Pikachu.” He grumbled, pulling his knees close to his chest, picking at his fingernails, ripping at the skin. A nervous habit he’d picked up after the kidnapping. 

Another thing Aoyama was responsible for. 

God-fucking damn it

Pikachu didn’t look convinced. 

“You sure? You’re shaking.”

Bakugou opened his mouth to protest, but then he saw the tremors running through his hands. He clenched them into fists, horrified. How had he not realized? He needed to get out of here, before he did something stupid. Abruptly, he stood, dusting himself off and heading to the door. A hand fisted in his shirt, pulling him away from the door right before he could turn the doorknob and escape this depressing room. 

Bakugou turned, ready to shove his hand on someone’s face and blow them sky-high, but he stopped short. 

It was Kirishima.

The redhead was looking down at Bakugou with so much concern in his ruby red eyes that Bakugou had the sudden urge to curl into Kirishima and sob. “Kats, where are you going? What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, and Bakugou almost told him. He caught himself just before he reached out, choosing instead to take a step away from Kirishima and closer to the door. If he could just wrench away-

Kirishima pulled Bakugou back towards him, making him stumble into Kirishima’s chest. He righted himself, glaring at the other boy.

“Do you want to die?” He snapped, shoving Kirishima back on instinct. A look of hurt flashed across Kirishima’s face, but it was gone almost immediately.

“I want you to talk to me. I know being in there must have been hard for you, but you can’t just run away when things get rough. It’s not weak to show emotion.” Kirishima said softly, his eyes so kind, so warm. 

Would it really be so bad to let Kirishima hold him?

Probably. Kirishima could be lying to him, waiting for him to drop his guard so he could use it against him later.

Kirishima seemed to sense where his train of thought was going, because he added,

“Basically everyone in here is crying or upset. No one is going to think differently of you. You’ll still be the same amazing, strong, tough guy we all know, even if you let us in. Let me in.”

Kirishima gave Bakugou a soft smile, his shark teeth glinting in the waning sunlight from the window. Cautiously, the redhead brought his hand up to grasp Bakugou’s, his soft skin warm against the blonde's own scarred palm. Bakugou let him.

Kirishima carefully led Bakugou back to where they had been sitting, next to Kaminari and Sero, with Mina on the other side of them. Kirishima was gentle, allowing Bakugou pull away at any time if he wanted to.

But he didn’t. 

So the duo sat down, and Bakugou let Mina crawl over to them and sit practically in his lap, her crying subsiding as she wiped her tears on his jacket. He hesitated for a moment, then started ruffling her hair, smoothing the tangles out. Mina rearranged herself so her head was in his lap, and she closed her eyes as he fussed with her hair. Kirishima watched fondly, his shoulder pressed against Bakugou’s. Sero and Kaminari moved closer to them, talking softly and eyeing Bakugou and Kirishima with a knowing twinkle in their eyes. 

As the class began to wind down, Bakugou felt his head starting to droop. Mina had already fallen asleep, her hair surrounding her head like a halo. Kaminari and Sero were dozing, with Kaminari sprawled on Sero’s lap while Sero leaned against the wall, snoring softly with his arms loosely crossed over his chest. Kirishima noticed Bakugou’s eyes closing, and without a word, he gently pulled Bakugou’s head to rest on his shoulder. Bakugou stiffened with surprise, but didn’t move. After a moment, he relaxed, letting his eyes close once more as the steadiness of Kirishima’s breathing lulled him to sleep.

All around the room, kids were quieting, leaning against their friends to rest or talking softly to one another. This time, the quiet that filled the classroom was comforting, like a warm blanket shutting out the cold. Nothing like the suffocating silence of a confession that shattered the illusion of innocence masking a traitor.

“Bakugou.”

Kirishima’s voice drew Bakugou out of his drowsy state, his eyes blinking open and focusing on the redhead. He lifted his head from Kirishima’s shoulder, taking care not to wake Mina.

“Yeah?” He asked, voice crackly and dry. He should find water later.

“Was… was everything you said about it the League true? The carving and sleeping stuff?”

Kirishima said the words quickly, like he was afraid Bakugou would interrupt him. He had his eyes trained on the floor, as if he couldn't bring himself to look at Bakugou.

Bakugou thought for a moment, and before he could talk himself out of this conversation, he nodded, staring at the floor. “Yeah. It’s all true. I’m pretty fucked up, aren’t I.” He continued, unable to stop the waterfall of words flowing from his mouth into existence, for the world to hear. “I just- because of him, I’ll never be the same. I’m still not over it, but if he had just- if he’d truly been… I don’t know. A friend? He wouldn’t have let some fucking threats get to him. And now- now I’m fucked in the head, and I can’t trust people, or sleep at night, or be fucking normal. I’m damaged because of him.”

He said it without emotion, like it was a fact.

Because it was a fact.

He was irreversibly changed for the worse.

A menace.

A weakling.

Unworthy.

He expected to see his feelings reflected on Kirishima’s face, because this was the moment when the redhead was supposed to realize that he was a lost cause, worthless, and he should drop him now before Bakugou dragged him down to his level.

But when he looked up, prepared to see disdain or annoyance painted on Kirishima’s face,

He saw something he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Sympathy.

Understanding.

“You’re worth the same to me as you were before you were kidnapped. You went through that, and still came out on top, stronger than ever. Your trauma is real, but it doesn’t define you.” Kirishima spoke softly, taking Bakugou’s hand in his own and rubbing his thumb over the  scars peppering his skin. “I’m so glad you told me, though. Now we can help each other.” 

Bakugou scoffed. “I’ve been fucking fine on my own.”

Kirishima gave him a look. Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“The recommended amount of sleep for a human is 8-10 hours.” He stated, eyebrows raised at the blonde.

“Keyword recommended, shitty hair.” The boy grumbled, shifting as he tried to find a better position. “This damn wall is so fucking uncomfortable!”

Mina stirred, and Bakugou quickly lowered his voice.

“Here, I have an idea.” Kirishima stage whispered, sitting up and scooting over to Bakugou. He gently pushed the blonde away from the wall, leaving a sizable gap of space. The redhead squeezed into it, so now Bakugou’s back was against Kirishima’s chest, and not the cold, stiff wall. Kirishima wrapped his arms around Bakugou, making him stiffen with surprise before melting into the embrace. 

“Why…” Bakugou’s words trail off as Kirishima uses one of his hands to gently card through the blonde's spiky hair, making the latter shiver. Bakugou’s body relaxed completely, muscles loosening that he didn’t know were still tight.

“I figured you could catch up on some sleep while we’re stuck in here. Or we can keep talking. I’ll just serve as your trusty pillow for a while.”

Bakugou huffed a laugh, but his eyelids were already drooping again, his senses dulling, until he was only aware of the steady thump on Kirishima’s heart, and the hand still threading through his hair. 

 

A few hours later, Professor Aizawa opened the door to find Class-1A asleep in various places around the room. With a smile, he quietly shut the door. Hizashi, who’d been behind him, looked at his husband, confused. “I thought we were collecting them to escort them back to their dorms?”

Aizawa shook his head.

“Later. They should be together.”

Hizashi nodded, and the couple walked back U.A together, hand in hand.

 

If you asked Bakugou how he got back to his dorm in the hours that followed, he would tell you he walked. Or he would yell at you for asking such a stupid question.

If you asked Todoroki, he would tell you to ask Midoriya.

If you asked Midoriya, he would stammer and stumble over his words, then look around before whispering in your ear that Kirishima had carried Kacchan bridal-style back to his dorm… And he hadn’t seen Kirishima leave.

If you asked Kaminari, he would say the same as Midoriya…much louder, and with a bit more scandalous detail. 

 

If you asked Kirishima, Bakugou would tell you to fuck off from where he was sitting in the redheads lap.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed!

Leave a comment or a kudos, they give me life :)