Archive of Our Own

“And to think you’ve just been acting like a neutral with all your classmates.”

The man before you sighs, swiping a hand over his face as he glares at you. His tone is seething and sharp. You duck your head lower. He’d been teaching you for almost a full year now, Highschool right around the corner. And you’d done such a good job hiding your headspace from those around you– your foster parents, friends, everyone… At least, you thought so.

Of course, that was until today, after school. You’d thought it would be safe to drop and walk yourself home. After all, you’d be alone, you knew the path, and no one would know.

Feeling proud of yourself, you hadn’t noticed your teacher walking down the hallway toward you as you giggled to yourself. You’d bumped into him, and, without time to school your voice or actions, had acted like a little. Thus resulting in a cold gaze and a hand dragging you to the teacher lounge.

“You should have let us know sooner; that way we could have… dealt with you better.” The words pierced your heart as you tightly grip your skirt. He continues, “ For god’s sake, we even let you take UA’s entrance exam. What will they think of us, letting some freak try out?”

You raise your eyes to meet his, but his body is positioned toward his computer, hands flying over the keys. “Now I have to clean up after your mess.”

“W-what are you going to do?”

Your voice is frail and shaky as you fight your headspace, clearly struggling lest you get berated more by the man.

“I’m sending an email to UA to let them know your trying out was a mistake. How they even let a little tryout anyway… Hmph.”

Your eyes widen as you take a short step forward, hands releasing your skirt and raising toward him, “Don’t-”

“Don’t what?” His gaze finally flits back over your frame, cold eyes resting over you. “Don’t let them know a little tried to worm her way into the hero course? That you lied to them to get your way? You littles are all selfish brats. Always thinking you're so entitled to everything.”

“Please…” You warble sadly, “Please don’t, I-I didn’t lie! All my paperwork! They- they have it! I promise I didn't lie!” Tears are now stinging your eyes and running down your cheeks. You swipe at them and snuffle.

“Stop crying like a baby and act your age!” Your teacher grits out harshly, not listening to your pleas as you break down. “Too late anyway.”

You watch with wide eyes as he hits the send button on his computer, crumpling to the ground.

“Serves your right.” The man groans, “Littles have no real place in our society, so stay down and don’t bother others, got it?” And without even looking at you, he stood and left the room, leaving you a weeping puddle on the floor.

Your chance at your dream job, crushed; your goal to help those like yourself dashed.

And the world around you fell.

—

Your foster parents were… okay.

They didn’t seem to care about you either way. After all, they were busy. They both worked, so it wasn’t unusual to come home to an empty house. No dinner, no ‘hello’.

So today of all days, you were surprised to find both your foster mother and father sitting at the table when you got home. It’d been around two weeks since your teacher had found out about your classification, and a small part of you panicked when you saw them home.

Had he contacted them about your lies? About your issues in class since then? You hadn’t even told them you’d applied for UA, not that it should matter any more after that email… but still, your heart raced.

Slowly you removed your shoes and greeted them.

They didn’t say anything as they watched you. Your foster mother looked nervous. Your foster father was furious.

They stared at you for a moment before he lifted his hand, a letter clutched in his grasp. “What is this?”

You could tell he was trying to keep his voice level, but something beneath it stirred, poisonous and dark.

Looking at the letter, your eyes widened. It was white, and the back was sealed with red wax. On the front was gorgeous calligraphy. ‘From UA High School.’ It had clearly already been opened.

Softly, you grabbed it from him, your voice no more than a whisper, “It’s from UA…”

“And when did you apply for UA?” Your foster father sneered. Not that you could hear him over the rushing in your ears. How? Why?

“I can’t take this!” Your foster mother cried out, digging her head into her hands. “First she’s a little! Now she want’s to be a hero? My heart can’t take it!”

You look down at the letter in your hands, then back up to them. “Does that mean…?”

Tearing open the letter with shaking hands, you notice a little disc that does nothing when it lands on the table. Your guardians pretend not to notice it. Inside is also a letter on paper, which you read more than happily.

“Welcome to your Hero Acedemia!”

Those words, at the bottom of the page, stare back at you, and sparks of confusion, joy, and hope fill you. Right before a cloud of sorrow surrounds you as you look back at your foster parents. Your father is growing angrier, and your mother’s hands are clasped together.

Crap. Grinning slightly, you try to reassure them. But, deep in your gut, you already know things aren’t going to be the same as before.

—

“So… Im staying… here?”

Looking over a small, dorm-like building, you slow your steps down. Aizawa, by your side, nods, head dipped into his capture scarf as he does.

Your foster parents… really couldn’t take it. They had made a call the same night you'd be accepted, giving you back to the system to find a new home, unable to cope with having anything to do with a Little hero. What little you could manage had been thrown into a trash bag, and before dusk broke, your social worker was picking you up.

You didn’t know where you’d go, nor if you’d even be able to attend UA anymore. After all, you could be moved super far away, or even sent to a home with restrictions for littles. And maybe your teacher was right. Maybe your ex-guardians were right. Maybe, just maybe, your parents were right.

Littles were detestable. They had no place in a real society. They didn’t deserve to be alive.

But as the car pulled into the underground basement parking of UA, something shifted.

The dark night sky was illuminated by the giant building, and for a second, the world was a dream.

You’d been met at the door by Nezu, the principal, and Aizawa, who you quickly learned was supposed to be your homeroom teacher the following school year.

Then they’d set off for the dorms.

“We have these dorms in place for wards of the school. It’s just a small building. A prototype. UA eventually wants to build dorms for the whole school, so this is a good test.”

Your social worker and Nezu had disappeared into the building ages ago for a check to make sure accommodations were met. You stayed behind with this bedraggled man. He… scared you. And yet…

“Ward of the school?”

Aizawa looks over to you, eyes narrowing. Shit, you hadn’t realized your voice had pitched up in that fuzzy little way that happened near headspace.

“Hm.” He was going to berate you, wasn’t he? Tell you you weren’t built for UA, or to be a hero. Wasn’t he? “You wern’t told much, were you?”

His voice comes out softer than you’d expected, and slowly, you shake your head, looking at him with big eyes.

Gently, Aizawa scoops the trash bag of your belongings out of your hands, slowly leading the two of you inside the building.

“Simply put, a student that’s a ward of the school is someone who is a student, or in your case, almost a student, of UA who needs their home situation to be more… stable. We have students from bad households, students whose families lived too far away, and students like you, who are in foster care without a proper placement. During your three years here, the school will act as your guardian. Okay?”

As he talks, you’d been directed up a set of stairs and into a room. It's empty, with only a plain bed and dresser inside. Aizawa puts down your bag before looking at you.

Slowly, you nod.

It sounds reasonable, you think. And at least it wasn’t just you.

“Good, now, are there any questions?”

“Uhm…” You look nervously at him, and he stares back. “What about… What about my Junior High? The year isn’t over yet…”

“Well, you’ll be taking some online classes until the year is up. They will make sure you graduate.”

“Okay…” You nod once more, dipping your head fully to hide your eyes. This was… Scary. He was scary. The new building was scary.

And you already knew you needed to drop.

So, as Aizawa left the room, you barely caught his last words: “I live in the building too, the floor just above this one, if you need me, come get me.”

And with that, you had to figure yourself out.

—

Now this was a predicament.

Over the past few months, you had done… A lot.

Graduated Junior High, started UA, met your classmates, and faced fearsome villains.

There were nightmares and sleepless nights. There were days you skipped school, unable to will a big headspace. There were close calls and closer battles. But throughout most of your journey, you had kept yourself scarce.

And now that was all going to change.

Because now that Bakugou was back, safe and sound, from the League of Villains… Well… They were finally implementing the dorms full-time.

The dorms had originally been sparse. Not many kids needed to be wards after all.

So this… this was a change.

“I wanna see everyone’s rooms!” Mina cheered brightly, pumping a fist into the air as she looked around at the rest of class. The other girls nodded, except for Tsuyu, who had withdrawn early for the night.

Ochako, whom you learned about near the beginning of the year, along with Kirishima and Kaminari, was a little, held Mina’s hand tightly, and excitedly bounced. Kaminari and Kirishima were ramping up too, the energy in the room feeling palpable.

Of course, Bakugou was missing as well, calling you all annoying and idiots… right before patting Kirishima on the head and pressing his lips to the little’s forehead. They were a sweet pair, having become a match earlier in the year, and it made your chest ache.

Iida, looking over to Ochako, sighed and nodded, “We can look into dorms, as long as everyone is okay with that.” They’d been getting close lately as well.

The girl and Mina grin at each other and squeal in excitement.

And that's when a prick of fear worms its way into your chest.

Jiro takes Kaminari’s hand, and Iida scoops Ochako onto his hip. Kirishima takes a place next to Sero, and the pack is off; Momo and Todoroki fall near the back, talking quietly to each other with soft smiles.

Oh no.

They open the first dorm, Midoriya making a gasping comment and Hagakere laughing.

If they went into your room…

They moved to the next, Shoji, flustered, saying something about how ‘messy’ it was.

They would find out.

In all your time as classmates, you’d struggled to get close with any of them. Aizawa might know you were little because of the paperwork and a few times he’d caught you slipping, but your classmates? They had no clue. And you didn’t want them to know. It was too risky.

You were disgusting. Stupid. Unworthy.

You closed your eyes as the group moved down the hallway. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and your legs shook. No… No. No.

Right as you were about to fall into a rhythm of panic, a harsh hand fell to your shoulder.

“Oi.”

Jumping and turning around, you squeaked as Bakugou entered your vision.

“Chill. You…” His normally harsh tone of voice lowered slowly. “You good?”

“Oh I- um!” Your throat feels heavy in your mouth as you look at him with big eyes. There’s a fuzzy feeling in the back of your head, and you realize you’re slipping. Great, already day one of sharing the dorms and your secret will be out!

You take a steadying breath, “I… I’m okay! Just don’t want anyone in my room! That’s on me…”

You look away from the rough teen whose blood-red eyes are still trained on you. He looks contemplative before speaking, “Alright. So lets go tell them that.”

“Huh?”

“I was gonna give Sharkie back his blanket. He left it in my room while helping me unpack. Common, short-stuff.”

And without letting you answer, he presses a surprisingly soft hand on your back and leads you to where the group disappeared.

—

The next week is odd.

Breakfast, normally a mismatch of stealing granola bars and sitting in silence with the other wards, was now an entire battle. People were running up and down the halls. Some had gotten up before you to work out; some were behind you, rubbing sleep out of their eyes. Regardless, the table was full of people when you reached it.

You carefully took an empty spot, peeling open a granola bar and avoiding eye contact with the people around you.

Ojiro and Ayoma were talking about some new movie, and Shinsou was making teasing jabs at Kaminari. Speaking of, the purple-haired boy waved at you. After all, you were both wards and were used to each other's presence and silence. Not that you’d really talked to him much.

You were almost done with your breakfast when Bakugou came into the dining room. Kirishima, who had been sitting and chatting with Sero and Mina, looked over with big eyes as Bakugou, as soft as he could, lowered a plate before him. It was fresh pancakes and fruit, and the red-head looked ecstatic.

“Really!? For me?”

“Mhm, eat up, shitty hair.”

The red-head nodded happily, rejoining his conversation and taking a big bite out of his food. Meanwhile, Bakugou surveyed the group with a blank face, making sure his ‘idiots’ were all eating. Then, ever so slowly, his eyes drifted over to you.

You stared at each other for a moment before his eyes flickered down to your nearly completed granola bar. Then he sneered, making your heart race. Your hands clench the food item harder as you look away from the blonde.

By the time you feel brave enough to look up at him, he’s gone, presumably back to the kitchen to make himself breakfast. And with a shallow sigh, you scarf down the last few bites of granola bar.

He hated you, which isn’t saying much. He seemed to hate everyone but Kirishima. But still. He really, really hated you.

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you don’t notice something coming in close behind you until a soft voice reaches your ears.

“Short-stack. Eat something better.”

Eyes flinging open, Bakugou is to your right, eyes narrowed down to the empty wrapper. In his hand is a plate. It’s the same design as Kirshima’s, only blue instead of red. On it is another pancake, cut into bits, with a small dipping cup of syrup on the side. It's sectioned as well, and a small selection of grapes and apple slices fill the extra divot. He also places down a plastic cup of water.

You stare at him, mouth agape as he sets the meal down and turns around to sit next to Kirishima. You can’t even get a thank you out before the two are leaving.

Then, in between classes, you notice Bakugou and Kirishima head toward your desk. Kirishima seems excited, rambling on and on about a new show the two of them are gonna start. Something about white trolls? It sounds… enticing.

And yet, when they get to your desk, Kirishima beaming at you and trying to rope you into the conversation, something nags at you to run. So you do.

You quickly gather your things and excuse yourself to the bathroom, unaware of three sets of eyes on your back.

Lunch is the same; you sit down in a secluded corner, a small riceball being the only thing you packed. That is, until Bakugou and his whole group show up to take over your table. The blonde is sneering at Mina as he balances two lunch trays.

You almost pick yourself up to leave when Kirishima sits next to you, and you find Bakugou setting one of the trays in front of you. He then settles a kiss on Kirishima’s forehead before stating that he is off to get his own lunch.

You find it too awkward to leave after such a kind gesture, so you stay.

No one forces you to talk, luckily, but the group does ask you questions. Kirishima the most. It’s clear that he’s gotten himself all worked up and in his head from the excitement of living in the dorms, so he's clearly dropped for the day. He kept switching between you and Bakugou, beaming brightly.

After lunch, you do your best to avoid them. You race to the dorms after school because you notice the two of them start toward your direction again. You stay in your room in case they try to find you in the common room. And at dinner, you quickly take your fill, thanking Sato, and rushing back to your room to eat.

And this routine continues.

Until it doesn't.

—

You haven’t dropped since the others moved in.

Not for lack of want, of course, but it’s too risky to slip into headspace with so many people milling about the dorms. And Bakugou was not helping.

He kept feeding you. He kept glancing your way. He kept following you.

And that means the others weren’t far behind.

You didn’t want this. You didn’t want friends. You didn’t want to long for a caregiver. Especially not when he was already someone else's.

So you didn’t drop. You repressed, even though you hadn’t fully gone down since before the Summer Camp. And it was starting to wear on you.

You wanted to be fed. You wanted to play with the big toybox that had been gifted to the other littles. You wanted to be tucked in at night and read a bedtime story. For God's sake, you just wanted to be loved fully and completely without needing to beg for it first.

But you repressed.

You held it in until one day in class, Aizawa kept you after.

“Uh, hello,” You scuff your shoe on the floor, trying not to look at him, “… What's up?”

The man had been with you when you’d dropped before. He was a cautious man, but under all his rough exterior, he was soft. He cared too much about you, about everyone. And you could tell that he knew something you didn’t. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought.

“You seem tiered.”

“Oh, uh, yeah! Just not sleeping the best, you know, with the new dorm situation and all.”

The man kept a level gaze, nodding slowly. “I noticed you hanging around Bakugou, Kirishima, and them recently. It’s good to see you make some friends.”

“I…” You swallow. “I don’t know if I’d call us friends… They kind of just… apper?”

“Ah. And, by chance, has Kirishima or Bakugou talked to you about… anything lately?”

Slowly, you shake your head, “Um… No?”

Aizawa sighs, “Ok.”

There’s a tense pause before he states the fact you've been trying to hide away, “You haven’t dropped in ages, have you?”

The flat-out question hits you like a bulldozer, running you over and stealing your breath. You look at him like a deer in headlights, frown tugging at your lips. Not good. Not good.

If he knew, then that means he’d make you drop. Because not dropping would make you sick. You knew that! You did! But… But you couldn’t bring herself to. If you did…

“No.” Your voice is shaky. “No, I haven’t… But-!”

“But.” Aizawa cuts you off. “If you do, you think it’ll be different because you’ve seen your little classmates be cared for. Correct?”

You slowly nod. “It’ll hurt… So… So I just won’t drop.”

“Bug.” The nickname pieces you, heart and soul, and suddenly you wanna crawl into your teacher's lap and cry, “This isn’t healthy. You need to drop. Or I’ll be forced to step in and help.”

He lifts his hand and smooths it over your hair. You lean slightly into the embrace as he continues, “Your classmates would be happy to help you. I have a feeling some of them already suspect you’re little. You just need to ask. At least drop by yourself… I don’t want to see you get even more sick than you already are.”

Forcing your lip not to wobble and closing your eyes, you slowly nod your head.

“I’m sorry,” you force out.

“Don’t be.” He responds, “Just take care of yourself, or I will step in.”

You nod once more, taking a second to regroup and take a breath.

Little do you know, a red-head outside the door clutches his notebook with big eyes before scurrying off.

—

Kirishima and Bakugou had been close since the school year started.

It only took a few weeks before Bakugou noticed that neither his words nor his actions seemed to affect Kirishima the way they did others. Nor did it take long before he realized how kind the boy was, or how open. It was clear he was a little, though he didn’t often let it show, if he could.

But eventually, the two started talking normally and hanging out. They started having sleepovers. Bakugou started to care for the little shit. Enough so that even before the dorms were set in place, they decided that Bakugou would become Kirishima’s caretaker.

And so there were Papa and Sharkie. Bakubro and Shitty Hair. Friends and partners.

So when the dorms were instated, and Bakugou needed to clear his head after the kidnapping, he found it easy to slip into his caregiver mindset. And Kirishima found it easy to slip into his own little space. It worked.

Until they both started to notice you.

You’d always been quiet. Like Todoroki or Momo, reserved and calm. But they could both tell, the more they saw you during their summer camp, that you were also nervous and shaky.

So, when Bakugou went to return his kid's blanket and saw you still with a glazed-over look to your eyes, something clicked in his brain.

He was a classified caregiver. And he had a little. But… that doesn't mean he ignores other littles in need. So he’d questioned you. And he noticed your body language and the worry behind your eyes. And something in him tugged to fix the issue.

It was… uncommon for him, but hey, it would just be a one-time thing, right?

Wrong.

After that, Bakugou noticed everything. And every time, he felt the urge, the pull, to help.

So he made you breakfast. He propositioned his idiots to sit with you at lunch so you weren’t lonely.

But he wasn’t the only one who’d taken notice of you.

Kirishima had noticed too. And not in the way Bakugou expected. He’d expected a jealous little. Someone nervous and sad that Bakugou’s attention had been split. But that wasn’t the case. No, instead it was Kirishima who demanded Bakugou get you lunch on top of sitting with you. It was his idea to try and talk to you during breaks. And he had even tried to invite you to movie night on Friday, although he didn’t actually get the chance, as you seemed to avoid them after school.

Yes, it was Kirishima who brought the idea up to Bakugou.

“I… I heard something I wasn’t supposed to.”

The two had been in Bakugou’s room after school. He was supposed to drop, but knew he needed to talk about this first. After all, it was important.

Bakugou leveled him with a narrow stare, not speaking.

“I overheard them after school.”

Bakugou’s eyes flicked with recognition. Only one person had been called to stay after today. You. So he nodded for Kirishima to continue.

“Aizawa… he said she needed to drop soon… or she’d get sick… He- he said that she was scared of dropping… because she’d seen us be so cared for…”

Bakugou nodded again, “Yeah?”

Kirishima nodded back, “Yeah…”

There's a moment before the little continues again, voice growing higher-pitched and blubbery as he speaks, slowly slipping, “I- I know how it feels… She’s probably watching us be cared for and is scared we- we won’t help her! But! But!” He lets out a sniffle.

“It’s ok, bud, shh…” Papa slowly rubs circles on his kid’s back, “We can help her.”

“She’s-” Kirishima takes a shaky breath, “She’s my sister.”

Bakugou furrows his brows, “She’s… your sister?”

Kirishima nods quickly, “You have to take care of her. She- she’s my sister and we need to make her safe!”

“But, buddy, im your caretaker, not hers… I can help her, but…”

“No!” Kirishima wails, “She needs to be with us! She does! Promise me she’ll be with us! Promise!”

“Oh, bud…” Bakugou drags the redhead over for a hug. “I can try… I…” He pauses. “I want her to be with us too, I think… but it’s not up to me. It’s up to her. Now, common, lets wipe those tears and join the others for the movie, okay?”

The child nodded, snuffling and rubbing away fresh tears. Bakugou laughed a little, teasing the boy for getting so worked up. This, of course, made Kirishima giggle as well, and before they knew it they were both downstairs, the red-haired in a cuddle puddle with Denki and Ochacko and Bakugou settled on the couch.

Now he just needed a plan on how to coax you out of your shell… And try to convince the teachers that it would be fine if he had two littles.

What a headache.

—

It's the weekend.

It’s the weekend, and something is wrong.

You wake up before dawn, head pounding and sweat slicking your forehead. A nightmare you can barely remember tugs at your mind as you take shallow breaths. You groan out in discomfort, only to notice the fuzziness of littlespace clouding your thoughts.

No.

No, no, no.

Carefully and slowly, you sit yourself up, looking over your dark room with a whine on your lips.

This can’t be. You're big! You’re a big girl! You are!

You whine again as the nightmare flashes through your vision once more, making you whimper and grasp the blanket from your bed. It doesn’t feel soft and safe in your hands, but you know it’ll protect you better than nothing, as you wrap it around your shoulders.

Slipping off your bed and into the dark is a feat of its own, but through sheer willpower, you find yourself relieved in the hallway. It's still dark, of course, but a small course of lights lines the hallways, bright enough to see where you're walking without being too bright. Almost like a movie theater. You ease up a bit.

That is, until you remember that you're not one of the few people in the building anymore.

Caught up in your head, you quickly look up and down the hallway with large eyes.

Tugging the blanket tighter around your shoulders and head, you nod to yourself reassuringly. It’s early! No one will be up! And- and since it’s only you up, you can get some food! And water! Yeah! Then, you can skip class for the day, since it was clear you would most likely be down all day.

Making up your mind and taking one more tentative glance up and down the hallway, you started your trek down to the common room and kitchen.

You avoided the elevator, worried it would wake someone up if they heard it go. And if someone woke up… they’d most likely check to see who woke them this early, in case a little was being mischievous when they shouldn’t be. No, the elevator was off the table. Instead, you tightly grip the railing of the stairs and, one by one, foot by foot, scoot your way down into the dark.

It was hard to see where each stair ended and which began, but after a long 10 minutes of careful steps, you finally made it to the ground floor.

Proud of yourself for the endeavor, you puff up your chest, making sure to keep your mouth shut.

Down here would be harder to wake others, sure, but you could never be too safe!

Inching your way toward the kitchen, you look around the room, pondering what you should grab to eat. You screw your eyes closed, thinking about what was normally good. Bakugou's pancakes… or his katsudon… Maybe have Midoriya cut some cute rabbit apple slices as he did for Ura, Denks, and Eji…?

No!

Shaking the home-cooked meals and fun-shaped fruit from your head, you try to think harder.

Something easy that you could just grab… Oh!

Scurrying over to the big fridge, you pull open the freezer with all your might. There, lying nicely in a box, was a stack of ice pops. They’d been bought as a treat for the other littles if they’d been good, and for everyone on especially hot days. But… a blue one sounded so yummy, and it was sure to fill you up!

So carefully, you grab one with clumsy hands, gasping at how cold the treat was. Then, leaving the freezer open, you run to the knife block, reaching a hand over the counters and trying to grab the scissors. Of course, what you ended up with was a knife, making you gulp.

Littles… Littles weren’t supposed to touch the knives. At least, not unless they were in a bigger headspace. But you were big! So, so big, that you decided, instead of retrying and grabbing the scissors, you would try to use the knife to cut open the ice pop!

Slowly, you laid the ice pop down on the counter, squinting in the dark, with only the faint glow of the open freezer to light the area. Then, you took the knife and started sawing away at the tip of the ice pop. Of course, you didn’t notice how close your finger was to the blade. Nor did you notice the footsteps coming up behind you, much too concentrated.

Thus, when a voice called your name, you gasped, hand slipping and knife quickly slicing into your finger.

And then, you started to bawl.

—

Kirishima had woken up big.

As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he remembered crying to Bakugou about you. He remembered finally being able to express how he felt about how he saw you as his sister. Even if you didn’t know it yet.

He knew he’d need to talk to Bakugou again in a bigger headspace, that there had to be planning and discussions. But something deep in him felt the urge to protect you as a brother would. Sure, he felt the same about Kaminari and Ochako, but for some reason… You were different.

Deciding that he wouldn’t be able to sleep again, he slowly uncurled himself from Bakugou’s side. The movie was long, and he’d fallen asleep early. Bakugou must have hoisted him to his room, where they’d cuddled.

Smiling softly, he woke the blonde up and whispered to him, “I’m gonna go on a run, ‘kay?”

The half-asleep boy only nodded with a grumble before turning over again to fall back asleep.

Kirishima puffed out a small laugh, gathered his clothes, and headed to the conjoined bathroom.

After changing and making his way downstairs, Kirishima noticed something. From the kitchen, where he was heading to grab a water bottle, there was a light. It was dim and faint, but there. And, if he strained his ears, he could hear shuffling and plastic crinkling.

Clearly, someone was up grabbing an early morning snack, and who was he to not say good morning?

Stepping into the kitchen, Kirishima noticed right away that the freezer was open, and that a figure was over by the sink, back toward him. It took him another second to recognize the hair sticking out of the blanket hitched around the person's shoulders and head.

Carefully, he called your name, and before he knew it, you had jumped and were suddenly bawling.

At first, he thought he’d just scared you, suddenly anxious himself and nervous. He hadn’t meant to spook his baby sister! Really!

And then he saw it.

The blood.

And if he wasn’t already on his way to headspace just from the scare, now he definitely was, though he did try to hold it together.

“I-Im sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! Are you okay?” He rushed over, eyes wide as he looked at your hand.

“I-I’m okay!” You wailed out. Clearly, the words had tried to sound reassuring, but failed as you continued to sob.

“I know what will help!” Kirishima, now fully regressed and looking over his baby sister, yelped. “There’s a first aid kit! Common!”

And without much forethought, he’d grabbed your good hand and was racing toward the elevator.

You cried the whole way as you rode up to the floor Kirishima and Bakugou were staying on, then continued to sniffle and hiccup as you were dragged into Bakugou’s room. You didn’t even have time to school your expression or even realize where you were headed until it was too late.

You found yourself sitting on the floor of Bakugou’s bathroom, on a dark grey bathmat that was fluffy beneath your hands. Your blanket had been haphazardly left behind in the kitchen, and, as Kirishima dug around for a first aid kit, you tried to control your cries.

This was wrong! So, so wrong!

Kirishima knew you were little! And now, as you heard shifting from the bedroom, you knew that Bakugou would know too.

And that made you even more upset.

“Aha!” Kirishima yelped, tugging out a small box from the first aid kit.

He happily waved the box around in the air before sitting next to you on the ground. You watched through blurry eyes as he clumsily tried opening the box. His tongue was poking out from the corner of his mouth, and you watched with a mix of odd fascination and nervousness as he kept trying until the box finally popped open.

He carefully dug out a fistful of Band-Aids, spreading them out on the ground between you. “Here! It’s a bunch-a heros! Umh…” He looked over them carefully before ducking his head. “Sorry, there are no Crimson Riot ones… I used them all…”

Slowly, breath caught in hiccups, you looked to the Band-Aids with confusion. Kirishima stared at you with a similar expression, head slowly tilting to the side.

“Are you… Okay? Pick one.” He gestured to the Band-Aids again before something cut him off, making you both jump.

Bakugou, who had been jostled from his sleep by the two littles, was standing in the doorway. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were drooped with sleep. Yet, even though they had woken him, he only surveyed the room.

“What happened, Sharkie?”

The nickname made Kirishima whine. He didn’t want you to know he was a little right now! He was supposed to be big-brothering! And yet, with another focused look from his caregiver, he started to explain.

He explained waking up and hearing noises from the kitchen. He explained how he’d startled you. He explained the blood and how he’d panicked.

“I couldn’t just leave her there, Papa! She's just a baby! And she was hurt! And- And I knew we had Band-Aids! Leaving her wouldn’t be manly!” He waved his arms wildly.

Bakugou nodded, taking another sweep of the room before locking onto your shaking form. Taking in a deep breath, he stepped into the room more. “Thank you, bud. How about you let me clean the baby up? I’ll bring her back out in a second, okay?”

Nervous, but trusting Bakugou to the fullest, Kirishima nodded. He gave you a small wave before standing and walking out of the bathroom. Bakugou shut the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone.

You cowered under the blonde's red stare.

Stupid, you think. How stupid were you to have let this happen? Only a stupid baby would cut themselves, or be scared of someone coming up behind them. Only a stupid baby would sob just because of a nick. And now they knew. They both knew, and Kirishima had already called you a baby, because he knew!

You continued to cower, shake, and hiccup, avoiding Bakugou’s gaze as you do. It isn’t until the blond is crouched in front of you that you look up again.

In your panicking, Bakugou has resurfaced the first aid kit, sitting by your side. He’d also grabbed a wet washcloth. Now, sitting across from you, he silently held out his hand to yours. Reluctant, you placed your hurt hand in his, which he carefully turned around, eyeing the injury. It wasn’t too deep, but blood was pooling in scarlet drops, running down your finger. You winced as you saw the blood clearly.

But Bakugou didn’t back down. Instead, he dabbed away the blood with the washcloth, revealing the minimal damage underneath. Then he took some Neosporin, rubbing it into the wound gently. You were relieved he didn’t use an alcohol wipe, as they hurt more.

Afterward, he carefully took one of the scattered band-aids, one with Mirko printed on it, and wrapped it around the wound.

Throughout him patching you up, your tears had slowly dried, and your hiccups had waned. His hands were soft. Softer than you’d though possiable for the explosive teen. And yet, as his hands ghosted over your newly bandaged finger, you knew this was just… him. How he was.

And suddenly your yearning to be treated so softly was coming true. Except… You hadn’t wanted him to know. And he already had a little. One who was waiting in the other room, worried about you.

And guilt started to gnaw at your ribs.

“I’m sorry.”

Bakugou raised his eyes to meet yours. “Yeah? What about?”

His tone surprised you. It was nonchalant and controlled. Nothing like when he was around the class.

This must be how he speaks to Kirishima.

And the guilt doubles.

You stayed silent as you prod at your hurt finger. You will yourself not to turn away from him, and yet… No words can express what you’re feeling.

Bakugou somehow seems to understand.

“You’re sorry about being a little, aren’t you?”

The words sound so normal coming from his mouth. So… calm. Like, he already knows that's the answer. And he’s not wrong.

You were sorry for waking up early. For scarring Kirishima. For waking Bakugou up.

And all of that… all the trouble you’d caused… was because you were little.

So slowly, and every so carefully, you nod your head, pulling your knees up to your chest, clutching them tight.

“M’ a disgrace…” You mutter the words, ‘disgrace’, mangling in your lispy voice. It's a big word, and it sounds silly coming from you.

“What makes you say that?”

“That's… that’s what everyone says…” You pout, “Littles are- they’re a stain on society!” You feel yourself tearing up again as you speak, fumbling through your big emotions, and quoting some of the past adults in your life.

“Well.” Bakugou looks up, still calm, “I don’t say that.”

And you stare at him before he continues.

“Nor would Jiro, or Iida. Or Aizawa.” He nods to himself. “Really, the whole class is infatuated by littles. And they aren’t the only ones. Now,” He looks at you, “would you say those things about Kirishima, or Kaminari? How about Ochako?”

Frantically, you shake your head no. They were fine!

“So its just you?”

And that made you pause. Slowly, you nodded your head.

“And why is that?”

“Because!” You blubber, grasping at some sort of argument. But nothing comes to you. “I just- I’m stupid! And a liar! And everyone! Everyone always said-”

“I don’t really care about what some extras have said about you, short-stack. You’re here now. With me. You’re little. And that can mean being a little stupid. But it’s because you’re a kid, not because you actually are, yeah? And you’re not a liar. Because we know. Me and Sharkie.”

“But you shouldn’t!” You try to reason, panic rising with your tone.

“Look,” Bakugou cuts off your spiraling thoughts. “That little boy out there has been watching you all week. Last night he confessed that he wanted to be your big brother.” You gape at him. “He was so upset that you wouldn’t tell anyone. And that’s not on you. I can tell you’ve been hurt, babes, but you cannot keep this to yourself any more. I won’t let you. And neither will he.”

“But… Your his caretaker…? I- You have to watch him… Won’t you just… hand me over to someone else? You’ll tell the class… then I won’t be your issue any more.”

And he must hate you even more than you’d thought, because as you speak, he snaps closer to you with wide eyes.

“Why-! Ugh, short-stack. Babes.” You watch him with big eyes. “I’m trying to tell you that it’s okay to be little now… because you’ll be mine. I will watch you. You will be my responsibility, just like Kirishima is. No pass-offs. No leaving you behind.”

He sounds frustrated, but sincere, and suddenly your brain is short-circuiting.

“What?”

“Kiri wants you as his sister. I want you as my kid. I was going to try and ease you into the idea… but honestly, I don’t know how safe it is to leave you alone like this…”

“You… you want me?”

“Yes. Really, honestly, yes. Ever since Training Camp, we’ve noticed you. And this past week! Why do you think we’ve tried so hard to get closer to you. Because we knew. Or, at least, we though we did. And clearly, we were right.”

Bakugou reaches his hand out to you for a second time that morning, and you look at it, shocked.

“We want you. Both of us. We’ll have to talk about this when you’re both in a bigger headspace, but yes. We want you.”

And so, carefully, sniffling once more after all your tears, you take his hand.

The blonde sighs, “Thank you. Now, come on. You must be hungry from working yourself up, and I’m sure Sharkie is waiting for us.

Opening the bathroom door into the bedroom revealed Kirishima. The boy was sitting quietly on the bed, hands kneading into a stuffed rock plushie. You almost giggled at how silly the stuffie was, until the boy's face snapped toward you.

“I’m sorry!” The boy cried out, jumping off the bed and racing over to hug you tight.

In the time you and Bakugou had been talking, Kirishima’s tough, heroic demeanor had melted away, giving way to his fear surrounding the whole situation.

“Back up, Kiri, we just had a deep talk, and she’s still in headspace. Don’t overwhelm her more then she already is.”

But Bakugou’s low warning fell on deaf ears as you slowly hugged Kirishima back. It felt… nice. New, for sure. But nice and safe, like that’s where you belonged.

“I’m sorry too… I shouldn’t have hid from everyone…”

“No, no!” Kirishima continued, “We didn’t want to pressure you, and now your all hurt because of me! Im a bad big brother!”

“Hey-”

Bakugou was cut off again.

“No, I’m the one who snuck out of my room! It’s my fault!”

“Guys-”

“Nuh-uh! I'm the big brother! You can’t blame yourself!”

And as the two wailed and comforted each other, Bakugou sighed, able to get a single word in.

—

The rest of the early morning hours were spent calming down.

Bakugou had been told about the mess in the kitchen, so after settling the two little ones into his bed, letting them whisper sleepily to each other, he headed downstairs.

Dawn had peeked over the horizon, and Bakugou groaned as he and Izuku, of all people, gathered in the elevator.

“Early morning for you, Kachan!” The green-haired teen smiled. Bakugou only rolled his eyes.

“Been up. It’s been a long moring.”

“Ooo…” Izuku hisses as the elevator opens. “Kirishima have a rough night?”

“Not Kirishima, no.”

Izuku looks at his childhood friend curiously as they both walk to the kitchen. A clarifying question was on the tip of his tongue when the kitchen came into view. The freezer was open, water from actively thawing foods dripping onto the floor. A blanket was sprawled across the floor, one of the corners haphazardly spotted with blood. On the counter by the sink was a knife and a partially opened ice pop, now melted and spilled all over the counter.

Bakugou didn’t say anything as he bent over, scooping up the blanket and getting to work on cleaning the area. Izuku wondered in his head who would have done this, if not Kirishima. And, if not Kirishima, why was Bakugou cleaning up…

Alas, that answer would have to wait for another time, as Bakugou rushed, ready to get back to his room and his littles.