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Shouto realized that something was off when he walked into Class 2-A on Monday, at his usual time and in his usual manner (5 minutes before the bell and still sleepy), and Bakugou was nowhere to be seen. Despite what Uraraka teased him about during lunch, Shouto did not spend class obsessively staring at his “adorable gremlin crush”, but he did… observe him. He knew his daily habits, admired his passion and dedication, and maybe, secretly, longed to one day join him in the bright and expressive world he inhabited, so far away from the endless confused grey that characterized Shouto’s own quiet life. It was an impossibility, Shouto knew that, but he could still sneak glances at his handsome face from afar and keep trying to build their friendship. Friendship meant he had to know Bakugou’s life, he was pretty sure, so Shouto knew a lot of little things about him.
Every day at 6 am, Bakugou and Kirishima went on their morning run. Shouto’s room was right above Bakugou’s own and his classmate often woke him up by pounding on Kirishima’s door and yelling at him to “get his lazy ass up already.” In a way, Shouto considered this his first alarm of the day, waking briefly with a small smile and rolling back over to sleep until his own alarm went off at 7:20. He often met the two of them leaving the showers just as he was stumbling downstairs to take his own; Bakugou would roll his eyes at him and tell him that he was as lazy as he was pretty. Shouto didn’t know what he meant by that, so he would just blink at him, then Bakugou would scoff and push past him to get ready for the day. The only person who regularly got to class before Bakugou was Tenya, so Shouto knew Bakugou couldn’t possibly get to class any later than 8:05. It was their little morning routine and Shouto liked it that way.
This morning, Shouto only woke up with his real alarm and only met Kirishima at the showers, the redhead bleary and confused and looking like he had barely dragged himself from his bed. No Bakugou. Maybe he was sick? Kirishima wasn’t in class yet either. Shouto would give it until first period, then he’d ask.
30 seconds before the bell rang, Kirishima dashed into class, followed shortly by Bakugou. Surprisingly, Bakugou said nothing to anyone as he entered even though everyone stared at him, walking silently to his seat and settling right down with his notebook open. Shouto studied his face, finding nothing amiss except a kind of bland neutrality. Oh, this was unacceptable! Bakugou was one of the few people that Shouto could comfortably exist around because he didn’t lie, not even with his face. Shouto continued to stare, hoping that someone could provoke some type of reaction from him, something to soothe the unease that Shouto felt at the sight of his blank expression, someone like…
“Morning, Kacchan!” Izuku said as brightly as ever, “You ready to spar later?”
Bakugou turned around slowly, back straight in his chair, and faced Izuku. The class ignored them, except for Shouto, as their dynamic had come a long way from those dark days in first year where they could barely stand to look at or speak to each other without yelling. Now, their rivalry was a lot more lighthearted and mutually encouraging, and they had slowly, surely become real friends. However, what did not usually happen, happened just then. Bakugou returned Izuku’s bright smile, an easy expression so unfamiliar on his face that Shouto felt sick.
“Ah, good morning, Midoriya,” Bakugou replied, voice unusually smooth, “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood to spar today.” With that, he turned back around, face dropping back into that absolute emptiness. The only person that saw the exchange, and Izuku’s crestfallen face, was Shouto. Risking Aizawa’s infamous rage, Shouto pulled out his phone and fired off a text to his green-haired friend.
Me 🐱
hey does 💥 seem weird today? he called you Midoriya
Me 🐱
And since when has 👑💥🔪 ever turned down a chance to fight you?
Izuku 🌞
Shouto stop texting me sensei’s looking my way
Izuku 🌞
But idk maybe?
Izuku 🌞
He could be sick or something and trying to hide it. That would be just like him.
Izuku 🌞
I don’t think he’s mad like if he’s mad at me he’s not exactly subtle lmao
Izuku 🌞
Sometimes he’s just socially bizarre like remember when he wanted to try calling each other by our actual given names all the time and it was weird and it lasted like a week before we agreed to go back
Izuku 🌞
I wouldn’t worry about it. Also stop staring at him rn even though I know that’s your favorite hobby (¬‿¬) sensei’s gonna notice
Me 🐱
k
Shouto put his phone away, not entirely convinced that by Izuku’s argument. Still, he continued to watch Bakugou, worry gnawing at his gut, for the rest of homeroom. Bakugou never spoke or looked at anyone for the rest of the morning, though his hands continually twitched. By lunchtime, his notebook and his face still wore equal expressions: complete emptiness.
“Hey, Ochako, you’re Toga Himiko’s Hero Recovery Partner, right? How is she?” Shouto asked the girl across from him at their usual lunch table. Izuku, Tenya, and Tsuyu were still in line, getting their meals from Lunch Rush. Shouto snuck a glance over to Bakugou’s normal table and found him, as usual, sitting with Kirishima, Kaminari, Ashido, and Hanta. Not so usually, he seemed to be… chatting casually and gesturing broadly with his hands. While Shouto knew that chatting was a part of friendship, Bakugou didn’t chat much. At least, he never did with Shouto. Maybe they weren’t good enough friends? Still, Shouto put it as another pin on his mental “There’s Something Wrong With Bakugou And By The Gods I Will Figure Out What It Is” mental board.
“Um, yeah!” Ochako replied with a light blush tinting her already pink cheeks, surprised at his conversation opener but definitely used to Shouto just saying whatever was on his mind, “And she’s doing really good! We write each other letters at least every week and I’m trying to convince the hospital to let me take her on supervised outings since she has so much more control over the cravings from her Quirk now with her medication. Do you know she’s never been to an idol meetup? I didn’t want to say anything because I don’t want to jinx it, but I think w-she really has a chance now!”
“Hey guys, what are we talking about?” Midoriya said, sitting down with his lunch, followed by Tenya and Asui.
“Ochako’s girlfriend,” Shouto deadpanned, “And she is never, ever allowed to tease me about Bakugou again.”
“Shouto! You can’t just say that!” Ochako hissed, face going bright red, “And anyway, why do you want to know what Himi-Toga is up to? Don’t you have your own HRP to worry about?”
Izuku glanced at Shouto, groaned, and buried his face in his hands,
“Not this bullshit again-“
“Midoriya! Language!”
“Sorry, Tenya,” Izuku replied, “Shouto, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t think that Toga escaped without anyone being notified, broke into U.A., broke into our dorm, made the real Kacchan disappear, again, without anyone noticing, took his place, and is now attending classes for some reason without hurting anyone or sabotaging anything.”
Shouto looked down at his plate. Izuku really was too observant for his own good.
“Shouto, kero, I know he was in an odd mood this morning, but that’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” Tsuyu said gently, finger on her chin.
“Yes, Todoroki, we should understand and respect our classmate’s constant desire to improve himself! Perhaps Bakugou has decided to turn over a new leaf recently and become whatever he considers the ‘best’ in friendliness! Who are we to judge his growth?” Tenya exclaimed.
“It was just a thought!” Shouto protested, “You’re right, it’s probably nothing.”
Me 🐱
hey kirishima it’s todoroki. is bakugou sick or something? He’s been kind of acting weird all day.
Kirishima 🦈
hey bro! 😊😊😊 nah, I think he’s just tired. He spent yesterday with his family and wouldn’t even get up this morning for our run so I got to sleep in!!! 😊😊😊
Kirishima 🦈
don’t worry, I won’t tell him you asked 😉 totally manly that you care so much about him
Kirishima 🦈
we’re really, really trying to get him to chill tf out about you though so don’t give up hope dude! he’ll get there 👍
Kirishima 🦈
hopefully before I die
Kirishima 🦈
for someone so smart bakubro can be so dumb about manly matters of the 🧡 and such
Kirishima 🦈
Fuck forget I said anything he’s gonna kill me if he finds out I told you
Kirishima 🦈
Love you bro! We should spar sometime! 🤜🤛
Me 🐱
k
Shouto sat bolt-upright at 2 a.m., panting, trying to calm his racing heartbeat, ice freezing over his right side and futon. At least it wasn’t fire this time; between him and Bakugou, two years and hundreds of nightmares had almost razed their dorm to the ground on more than one occasion. Ice, he could deal with. Despite the chill, his forehead and shirt were soaked with sweat, bangs and fabric sticking to his skin. He swallowed shakily and tried to remember the affirmations that Hound Dog had taught him during their mandatory sessions after it publicly came out, thanks to his criminal brother in recovery, that his now-imprisoned hero father was a violently abusive tyrant.
Nothing that happened to you was your fault.
You are at U.A. High School, in your dorm room on the 5th floor of 2-A Alliance.
Aizawa-sensei is in the teachers’ dorm and he will not let you get hurt.
Your father is in prison and cannot harm you, your mother, or your siblings anymore.
You are safe, you are loved, and you are alive.
Heart rate returning mostly to normal and breathing evening out, a still shaken Shouto decided that a cup of calming tea would be just the thing to get back to sleep. He frowned when he noticed that he was out of tea for his in-room pot, remembering that he had shared the last of it with Izuku and Tenya when they came over on Sunday to finish their math homework. Sighing in resignation, he changed into a fresh shirt, brushed his hair back, and put on his dorm slippers to head down to the communal kitchen. He padded down the stairs, but paused at the bottom when he heard… voices in the kitchen.
“St-stop you f-fucker, get out!” said the first voice, so familiar and rough that Shouto’s chest bloomed with warmth, then froze as he heard it tremble. Shouto would know Bakugou Katsuki’s voice anywhere, even at such a low volume and laced with a terror that Shouto had rarely seen it display.
“Don’t be like that, Katsuki,” another voice said, a smooth and chipper tone that tugged at the edges of his memory, “Another day or two and you won’t have to worry about a thing anymore.”
“L-leave me alone, dammit! I’m g-gonna fucking kill you!”
“Now, is that any way for the future Number One Hero to speak?” the voice replied, “Tell you what, Katsuki: I am going to fix you. The citizens you claim to protect? Those people you call friends? That boy you’re so in love with? Your own parents? They’re all going to love me.”
Shouto’s curiosity and fury outweighed his sense of self-preservation and every intel-trained hero instinct he had. He burst into the kitchen, left hand ablaze, ready to roast whatever the hell was in the kitchen with his (beloved) explosive classmate.
Bakugou sat totally alone at a table, eyes fixed on the shadows in the empty common room. There was nobody else in the room, or even on the ground floor. His expressive crimson eyes were dull and entirely vacant, causing Shouto’s heart to speed up in a way quite unlike how it usually did when Bakugou’s eyes met his. Shouto sat across from him and extinguished his hand, then gently reached over and shook the blonde’s knuckles that were formed into loose fists on top of the table. The other boy blinked as if waking up from a dream, shaking his head and furrowing his brow in confusion as his eyes finally broke their staring contest with the shadows and looked into Shouto’s own. Shouto almost felt relieved until the brow smoothed out and Bakugou gave Shouto that same shiny grin that he had flashed at Izuku earlier.
“Hello, Todoroki,” Bakugou said, voice smooth and chipper, “Whew, I guess I fell asleep down here, huh? Thanks for waking me up!”
Todoroki?
Todoroki?!
Not even a dumbass nickname? And a thank you? Shouto frowned.
“I came down to make a cup of tea and I heard voices,” Shouto replied, “Are you… okay, Bakugou?”
The rictus grin fell slightly, then returned, as bright and cold as a mountain in the winter. His hands continued their odd twitch from the morning.
“Nightmare. New therapy technique from Hound Dog, talking out my problems as if there was another person. It helps, you should try it some time,” Bakugou said, shrugging his stiff shoulders. Therapy wasn’t a exactly secret between them but actually talking about it? They didn’t do that. Bakugou would never.
“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind,” Shouto replied with an even more forced monotone, picking at his hangnails, “Do you want tea? I thought you were sick earlier, you’ve been different today.”
Bakugou’s eyes took on a new, sharp glint. Todoroki had seen all sorts of sharp looks from Bakugou in his time, fierce and determined on the battlefield, friendly and competitive in spars, irritated but playful whenever Kaminari took his special snacks. Not one like this, though. Never one like this.
“Whatever do you mean?” he asked, frozen smile not matching sharp eyes not matching smooth and chipper voice. Shouto gulped.
“I- I just thought you weren’t feeling well,” he responded, voice betraying the cold bead of sweat that slid down his back, “I asked Izuku and Kirishima though, and-“
“I think you ask a lot of questions, Todoroki,” Bakugou responded, dropping the grin and the chipper tone, “I think you should mind your own business, so you don’t keep seeing things that aren’t there. It could be bad for your health.”
Bakugou drummed his fingers on the table, still staring at Shouto with that horrible gleam.
“Are you threatening me?” Shouto asked. Bakugou’s grin snapped back into place.
“Of course not! I would never threaten a classmate and good friend like you!” he replied, smooth and chipper and so, so wrong. Todoroki stood from the table, he had to get out of there, he was starting to panic.
“Forget the tea, I think I’m just going to go to bed,” Shouto said, “Goodnight, Bakugou.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Wrong Bakugou responded, “Remember what I said. Goodnight, Todoroki.”
Shouto left him there, staring blankly into the darkness of the common room. As soon as he was out of sight, he practically ran up the five flights of stairs, closing his dorm room door tightly behind him and locking it securely. Just in case that- that thing made good on its promise. Shouto slid to floor, back against the door, knees pulled up to his fluttering chest. Shouto, hyperventilating, buried his face in his knees and began to sob in those terrible, dry heaves that happened because his stupid dead face refused to produce tears.
Whatever the fuck was downstairs, whatever the fuck was wearing the face he adored so much, whatever the fuck was walking around in his goddamn skin like it owned it?
It wasn’t Bakugou.
“Let me get this straight: Bakugou threatened you in the dorm kitchen last night?” Aizawa asked when Shouto cornered him in the classroom before lunch. Wrong Bakugou had spent the morning much like he had the previous, all bright smiles and chatting when he had to interact, then sliding back into a mask of cold emptiness when people looked away, hands twitching. He looked at Shouto only once as he was leaving the classroom, eyes holding that same terrible glint, like the flash of a knife before it shivved you in the belly.
“Yes, he did,” Shouto responded, “He told me to mind my own business or else.”
“And you believe this is… unusual behavior for him to display?” Aizawa continued, rubbing his tired eyes, “I can safely say that all of his other classmates and teachers would disagree with you there.”
“Sensei, you have to believe me, this was different!” Shouto burst out, “He is different. He’s been acting weird since yesterday morning and nobody sees it but me!”
“How, exactly, is he ‘acting weird’ enough to be so concerned about it, Todoroki?”
“Well, he’s been… less explosive? He hasn’t yelled yet this week? He’s chatting with people? He’s smiling for no reason?” Shouto offered. Saying it out loud, it didn’t sound like a lot of evidence to go on.
“So, a better overall attitude, better behavior, and a generally happier mood? Is that it?” Aizawa responded. Shouto nodded, then remembered something.
“He was talking to himself in the kitchen last night as if there was another person there. But sensei, I checked and he was totally alone! He claims it’s a new therapy technique he’s trying.”
Aizawa took a deep breath. Shouto’s stomach sank; he knew what was coming. He knew he sounded crazy. He knew that Aizawa-sensei would be skeptical, but he had to try.
“Todoroki, I know that change isn’t something that you’re used to or comfortable with, especially in people,” his teacher began, “But your friends will grow and change over time, as will you, and that is totally normal. Bakugou has been working very hard on himself for the past two years and you need to accept that sometimes, he will act in new and unexpected ways. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, sensei,” Shouto nodded, “Izuku said kind of the same thing yesterday.”
“Was that when you were texting during my class?” Aizawa asked, Quirk briefly activating and making his long hair stand on-end.
“Uh…”
“Go to lunch, Todoroki. I’m sure Bakugou will still want to spar with you during hero training this afternoon, and you’ll need your strength.”
“Yes, sensei.”
Shouto left the classroom, head dizzy. Was Aizawa right? Was he overreacting? Maybe Bakugou wasn’t acting oddly at all, maybe Shouto was just very socially stupid and hadn’t noticed Bakugou’s change before this week. Shouto’s stomach turned in unease; could he really have read everything so wrong? Maybe he was insane.
After a silent, somewhat lonely lunch (Izuku was having lunch with his mentor, Tenya had a class representative meeting with Kendou from Class 2-B, and Tsuyu and Ochako had joined the other 2-A girls for their informal bi-weekly Kickass Ladies-Only Lunch), Shouto made his way back to the classroom to grab his hero suit for afternoon practical training. When he walked into the locker room, he immediately felt something tense in the atmosphere. Shouto looked around at the other boys to try to use his limited social skills to sense what was going on, but none of them would meet his eyes; his heart sank like a stone. Even Izuku and Tenya wouldn’t look at him; Bakugou flashed him that same frozen grin. He dressed quickly, then pulled Izuku aside. Surely, his first and best friend would tell him what was happening.
“Izuku, please, why is everybody mad at me?” Shouto pleaded, trying to get the shorter boy to at least look at him, “I don’t know what I did wrong, I’m so confused. Please tell me what I did so I can fix it.”
“Well, um, well,” Izuku stuttered, eyes looking into Shouto’s and then quickly darting away, “Kacchan said, uh, well, he said that you kind of, oh fuck, I don’t know how to say this in a way that doesn’t make me sound like an asshole, kind of… attacked him in the bathroom during lunch? He said you basically went crazy and started calling him an imposter and got in his face and scared him so bad he couldn’t even scream and normally I wouldn’t believe that shit without proof but you talked about that insane conspiracy theory yesterday and Shouto… he showed us the burns.”
“Burns?” Shouto asked incredulously. Izuku finally met his gaze, normally sparkling green eyes turned hard. He nodded sharply.
“Left handprints, to be exact. Two of them, wrapping around the front and back of his neck,” Izuku said, freckled face frowning, “Shouto, you know that’s where he was held when he was kidnapped and where Dabi would’ve burned him. You know he can’t stand anything touching his neck!”
“Izuku, I didn’t do this! Please, I would never do that to someone! Aren’t we friends? Don’t you know me?” Shouto begged. Izuku pursed his lips, brow furrowed.
“I thought I did,” Izuku sighed, “Look, I know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately because of your dad and brother but you can’t just freak out and burn people like them or you’ll get kicked out of U.A. I think you should talk to someone, maybe Recovery Girl or Hound Dog-“
“Izuku, please!” Shouto interrupted, “Didn’t you tell me yourself that I am not my father? There has to be another explanation, look at the burns on my arm from my own fire and tell me if they look the same as Bakugou’s marks!”
He thrust out his right arm, shiny with a fresh burn from a recent training mishap with his left side. Izuku took the arm, studied it carefully, then dropped it and rubbed his chin in thought.
“It looks different, but nobody else that we know has a fire or heat Quirk and Monoma hasn’t had an opportunity to steal one,” Izuku muttered, “Unless Kacchan did it to himself… but he doesn’t lie, especially for no reason. Why would he lie about something this serious? I thought you two were friends, potentially more if you weren’t individually and as a pair so goddamn stupid… Come to think of it, I’ve barely seen Kacchan even admit he was scared of villains, much less Shouto or any other student… it just doesn’t make sense… Okay, Shouto, say I believe you. What do you think is happening to him?”
They were definitely going to be late for hero training, but Shouto was flooded with relief. Finally, someone was possibly on his side, and it was his best friend. Shouto thought he should definitely give him more gifts in the future for being such a great guy.
“I don’t know for sure, but I think he was hit by some type of weird Quirk between the time he left U.A. on Saturday night and when he came back on Sunday night,” Shouto began, “Here are some things I know and enjoy about Bakugou Katsuki: he wakes up extremely early for his dedicated training schedule, he is generally grouchy, rude, and somehow less social than I am, he is loudly expressive vocally and physically, and he does not lie or manipulate people.”
“I’m with you so far,” Izuku said, “What have you noticed that’s so different that you’d think it wasn’t really him? Also, it’s very cute that you have a list of things you like about him.”
Shouto blushed at Izuku’s sly smile but continued.
“For the past two mornings, he’s skipped training entirely. Kirishima thinks he’s sick or tired, but I remember him passing out in the gym last winter because he tried to deadlift with influenza raging through his body. He’s been oddly cheerful in a way that feels… plastic? He hasn’t called me or anyone else any of his stupid yet somehow charming nicknames, plus he’s chatting socially and making small talk with people. I haven’t even heard him yell or curse since before he left. You see him smiling but the second everyone looks away, his face goes totally blank- don’t look at me like that, you know it’s not my fault that I personally don’t move my face a lot. And he is definitely lying and trying to manipulate everybody against me because I confronted him in the kitchen last night while he was talking to himself in two separate voices like a lunatic.”
Izuku nodded, eyes becoming less hard with every observation that Shouto said.
“Put together like that, it makes more sense that something’s wrong. Have you told anyone else? All Might, maybe, or Aizawa-sensei?”
“I told Aizawa-sensei today, but he brushed me off and said that people just change over time,” Shouto sighed, rolling his eyes, “He’s right, but a total personality change in 24 hours? I just don’t see it happening, especially for someone like Bakugou. Izuku, you’ve known him practically your entire life; you have to feel in your gut that something is wrong with him. Do you believe me now?”
Izuku paused, gears in his curly green head clearly turning. He closed his eyes and let out the breath that Shouto didn’t notice he was holding.
“I believe you. I don’t know what we’re going to do, but I believe you. Let’s go to training, maybe Aizawa-sensei will see something?”
“We can try. Oh, one more thing: his hands keep twitching. Kind of like when he overdoes it on the explosions? But it’s weird, like it’s not the usual small twitch but a full spasm? Watch him during training and you’ll see what I mean.”
Izuku nodded, then joined him as he left the almost deserted locker room. Out of the corner of his eye, Shouto could see an isolated Kirishima fiddling with his shoulder gears, biting his lower lip, eyes darting around before meeting Shouto’s own. He mouthed a request to talk to Shouto after class and Shouto mouthed ‘okay’ back.
“Listen up!” Aizawa called out, “Today, we are doing one-on-one, full-Quirk sparring drills. For the past two weeks, we’ve been working on rescue training, but you all need to practice your combat skills. You will pick your own partners and when it is your turn, you will have 10 minutes to pin your opponent. No breaks, you will run laps in between rounds. The winner of each spar will get to advance to the next round, and the winner overall will spend next Sunday in a personal melee combat training session with the Number 5 Hero, Rabbit Hero: Mirko. Any questions?”
“No, sensei!” the class echoed excitedly. Mirko was an incredible hand-to-hand fighter and as she never took on interns or work study students, an opportunity to learn from her was impossible to pass up.
“Good. We will go by class rank to pick your partners. Yaoyorozu! Who do you choose?”
“Sir, I need to practice my creation speed, so I’ll take Iida!” Momo responded. Tenya did a formal yet incredibly awkward bow to her.
“I accept your challenge! May the best hero win!”
“Okay, Iida is second in the class so he’s out of the way…” Aizawa murmured, running his finger down his clipboard, “Next is... Bakugou! Your choice?”
Shouto braced himself. Normal Bakugou would always choose between him, Kirishima, and Izuku for a spar, but as Wrong Bakugou obviously had some type of vendetta against him now, he expected to be chosen. Wrong Bakugou gave another shiny smile and considered his options, gleaming eyes darting around at his classmates and landing on a very short, very purple boy.
“Mineta,” he said. The class collectively gasped and started muttering amongst themselves. Aizawa looked shocked too and Shouto could see him struggling to respond in a way that both supported Mineta’s heroic goals and acknowledged that Bakugou was about a thousand ranks above his classmate in terms of ability and power; in a full-force match, Bakugou could easily kill him. As for Mineta himself, he looked terrified.
“M-me? Why?” he stuttered.
“It’s simple!” Wrong Bakugou responded in his unnaturally bright voice, “I want to win and you don’t challenge me in the slightest. It’s not polite to fight a helpless girl and you’re the next easiest thing!”
“HELPLESS GIRL?” Ashido roared, struggling to break free from Kaminari and Hanta’s hold, “WHAT THE FUCK, KATS?”
“I’LL SHOW YOU HELPLESS WHEN I KICK YOUR ASS SIX WAYS TO SUNDAY TOMORROW NIGHT!” Ochako yelled, face turned red with rage. Since the Sports Festival and internships in first year, she and Bakugou had a standing Quirkless hand-to-hand spar every Wednesday night; Shouto knew she, more than anybody else, was baffled and offended by Bakugou’s sudden disparagement.
Wrong Bakugou continued smiling, twitching his hands in that odd way. Izuku’s eyes somehow grew wider and he grabbed Shouto’s arm when Wrong Bakugou was distracted by the chaos he had created.
“It’s not a twitch, it’s sign language!” Izuku whispered, “He’s saying my name sign, ‘Deku’, over and over.” Izuku made a small sign back to signal that he understood, without attracting too much of Wrong Bakugou’s attention. Bakugou’s hands sped up as Aizawa tried to calm the class down, his face showing no indication of communicating.
“You guys know JSL?” Shouto asked, raising his brows.
“Kacchan’s parents were worried about his hearing when his Quirk developed so we both learned some as kids!” Izuku explained, eyes fixed firmly on Bakugou’s hands, “I only remember a few signs now though and Kacchan knows that, he teases me about needing to learn it again… ‘phone’, ‘movie’, ‘loud man’? What the hell… he just keeps repeating that…”
Bakugou kept moving, the same signs over and over. It was like a lightbulb turned on; Shouto reached out and grabbed Kirishima, someone he knew always had his phone on him during training.
“Kirishima, give us your phone.”
“What? Why?”
Shouto turned Kirishima around to look him in the eye. Kirishima bit his lip.
“Bakugou has been acting weird, right? That’s what you wanted to talk to me about today?”
“Yeah, I thought you were overreacting yesterday but now I’m really worried about him!” Kirishima said, keeping his normally loud voice low, “Sparring with Mineta for an easy win? The Bakubro I know would never accept a prize he thought was just handed to him easily. Also, I know what his explosion burns look like and they match the ones on his neck, plus he accepted a love confession before lunch today! From some random girl! It’s freaking me out, man!”
Izuku glanced over for a minute, taking Kirishima’s phone. He held it low, where Aizawa wouldn’t see, and gave a tiny sign to Bakugou to go ahead when he pointed the camera at his frantic hands.
“A girl? Really?” Izuku asked, “That’s… unusual.”
“I know, right?” Kirishima replied eagerly, “Something is wrong.”
Shouto felt like he was missing something. Bakugou was a physically attractive guy, powerful, intelligent, and interesting, why wouldn’t he have a lot of girls interested in dating him? Was it really so odd to think of him with a girlfriend? Shouto’s chest stung but he wasn’t foolish or self-centered enough to believe that he was the only person who had noticed how amazing Bakugou was, maybe the girl that he accepted was beautiful and smart and social and everything that Shouto wasn’t and could never be.
“I don’t see what’s so weird about it,” Shouto said, voice empty, “Izuku, you’ve known him for ages, hasn’t he had a girlfriend before? He’s so handsome…”
Kirishima and Izuku looked at each other and snorted in unison.
“Uh, Shouto,” Izuku said, biting back a laugh, “I’ve known Kacchan for over ten years and he’s only recently graduated from telling girls interested in him to fuck off to just ignoring them and walking away. I seriously don’t see him with a girlfriend.”
“But-“
“Trust me, Todobro, his interests lie… somewhere else,” Kirishima added, patting Shouto on the shoulder. Shouto still felt like he was missing out on the joke, but he didn’t want to feel even stupider by asking for an explanation, so he just blinked at the two of them. Bakugou signed something that must’ve been ‘stop’ or ‘end’, because Izuku ended the recording and Wrong Bakugou walked away with a visibly trembling Mineta in tow.
“Okay, we did what he wanted,” Izuku said, “Now what? What the hell is ‘loud man’?”
“GOOOOOOOOOOOOD AFTERNOON, LISTENERS!” a voice boomed from the back of the room, where a bright red Aizawa sat next to an excited Present Mic, “I’M HERE WITH THE GREATEST HERO OF ALL TIME, ERASERHEAD, AND HIS BEAUTIFUL HOMEROOM CLASS OF FUTURE SUPERSTARS! FIRST MATCH: CREATI VS. INGENIUUUUUUUUUUUUM! LET’S GO… what’s that, Shou? oh… GET RUNNING, EVERYONE ELSE!”
The three boys froze as Momo and Tenya began to circle each other.
“Do you think he meant… Mic-sensei?” Shouto asked.
“He’s definitely the loudest person we know,” Kirishima agreed, “And he speaks English, maybe he knows JSL too? Worth a shot.”
“DIDN’T YOU HEAR MEEEEEEE?” Mic shouted, “SHOUTO! RED RIOT! DEKU! START YOUR LAPS OR ERASERHEAD WILL BITE YOU!”
Aizawa sank down in his seat and buried his face in his hands, shaking his head at his husband’s over-the-top energy. With shaking fingers, Izuku emailed the video to Mic with a message that said ‘urgent!!!’ and gave Kirishima his phone back. All they could do now was wait for Mic to respond, worry eating away at them as they ran.
Mineta, predictably, ended up in the infirmary, knocked out cold with burns, bruises, and cuts all over his body. Though, he was lucky to not be in the hospital as Aizawa-sensei had intervened, turning off Bakugou’s Quirk mid-match when he realized that the explosive boy wasn’t going to stop. Wrong Bakugou had smiled and “sincerely” (even Shouto could tell he was lying) apologized for going overboard, but he was still disqualified from the competition. A thoroughly exhausted Momo won and cried tears of joy at the chance to train with Mirko; Shouto beamed with pride about his friend’s hard-earned accomplishment even as Wrong Bakugou shot her a glare.
Shouto’s anxiety ratcheted up as the afternoon continued, stretching well into the evening when the class returned to the dorms. Had Mic received their message? Could he help? He sat in the common room with Izuku and Kirishima, pretending to do their Ethics homework with Kirishima’s phone on the table between them, waiting for some kind of sign that their teacher understood. Wrong Bakugou had disappeared alone up to his dorm room as soon as he got back, stopping only to grab an instant noodle from the kitchen. Kirishima’s phone dinged with a new email and the redhead grabbed it, his breath hitching. The three boys leaned together to read it.
RE: urgent!!!
Kirishima-
Come to the teachers’ dorm immediately and bring Todoroki with you. DO NOT tell Bakugou where you are going or let him see you leave. He could be in serious danger and so will everyone at U.A. if he knows that you know. Aizawa and I are waiting.
-Mic
The message was short and blunt, far from Mic’s usual hyperverbal enthusiasm in his replies to student emails. Silently, they stood up, slipped off their dorm slippers and into their shoes and coats, and left 2-A Heights Alliance, heading down the path. Shouto shook his head and put his finger to his lips when Ojiro tried to strike up a conversation with them; they could not be seen or heard by the monster wearing their friend’s skin. At least Bakugou didn’t have a front-facing window so whoever was in there couldn’t watch them leave. Izuku broke the silence as they shuffled up the steps to the teachers’ dorm.
“Do you think they’ll be mad that I’m here too?” he asked timidly. Just then, the door opened.
“I would expect nothing less from you, problem child,” Aizawa responded, “Come in.”
The boys entered the teachers’ common area, slipping off their shoes and sitting down on the sofa when Aizawa motioned for them to do so. Mic sat on the other sofa across from them in his civilian clothes, long blonde hair pulled back in a neat bun, his laptop with the video paused open on the table next to an open notebook page covered in his tidy handwriting.
“Why don’t we start from the beginning?” Mic said, voice much quieter than usual, “Todoroki, Aizawa tells me that you were the first person to notice Bakugou was acting strangely, right?”
“Yes,” Shouto replied, “I noticed as soon as I saw him on Monday morning that something was off. He arrived to class much later than usual-“
“And he skipped our morning workout!” Kirishima interjected, “Sorry, Shouto.”
“It’s okay. He was much more cheerful than normal when talking to people, but he was really quiet otherwise. Plus, he called Izuku ‘Midoriya’, which was weird.”
“Why was it weird? That’s his family name, correct?” Mic asked. Izuku sighed.
“We’ve known each other since we were toddlers. Kacchan has never called me by my family name before in his entire life and I’ve never called him his. He calls me ‘Deku’, or ‘Izuku’ sometimes, but never ‘Midoriya’. I brushed Shouto off when he told me he was worried about it, but I think that was the first thing that felt wrong too.”
“Noted. What happened next, Todoroki?” Mic continued.
“It was pretty much the same all day. Everybody kept telling me that I was overreacting, but the weirdest thing happened in the kitchen that night, about 2 a.m. when I went down for a cup of tea. I heard him talking to himself, both in his normal voice and in the strange one he’s been using for the past two days. His real voice sounded scared and the strange one said that he was going to ‘fix him’ and that he only had a day or two. When I walked into the kitchen, he was sitting down staring into the darkness, like he wasn’t seeing anything in front of him and he didn’t react to me until I shook him. I asked him if he was sick and he threatened me, so I went back to bed because I was, um, afraid of him. It… wasn’t very heroic of me.”
“Todoroki, I sincerely apologize for not taking you seriously when you talked to me about this earlier today,” Aizawa responded, “I should’ve known- have you ever actually been afraid of Bakugou before?”
“Never. I grew up with Endeavor, I know the difference between an actual threat that someone is going to hurt me and whatever the hell Bakugou normally does,” Todoroki replied, “But then he told everyone I attacked him and we think he burned his own neck-“
“I can testify if you need me to, sensei, those are his own explosion marks,” Kirishima added, “I’ve seen ‘em dozens of times before. Plus there was the thing with the love confession, and almost killing Mineta in training, and then Midoriya noticed he was signing! So yeah, here we are.”
Mic continued taking notes, raising an eyebrow at the ‘love confession’ but choosing not to comment, pausing when he got to the end of their testimony.
“That’s almost exactly what Bakugou signed to me, plus or minus a few expletives, of course. I’ve translated it here, let me read it to you,” Mic said, picking up the notebook, “Ahem.
Help. Thank fuck Deku isn’t actually stupid. Villain got me with his Quirk when I took the train back on Sunday. Blind eyes, purple skin and hair, looks standard human. Parallel universe, trying to take over, ask Cold Fire. He’s me, but he’s a bastard. He doesn’t sign but I think he’s starting to notice. Don’t know what to do. Really scared. Don’t have much time. Don’t let him get me. Help.
And that’s where the message ends. We’re assuming ‘Cold Fire’ is Todoroki?”
“Yeah,” Shouto responded numbly, “He calls me Icy-Hot. That’s the real him, the double only calls me Todoroki.”
“Okay, kid, talk. What do you know about parallel universes?” Aizawa asked, taking a seat next to Mic. Shouto pulled out his phone and opened his notes app.
“Not much, just theories,” Shouto said, “So you know multiverse theory, right? How there are potentially infinite universes out there, and how some of them could be really similar to ours?”
Everyone else nodded.
“There’s a theory that some of them are so similar that we could potentially cross over into another universe. Bakugou and I were talking about it when we were working on our Physics homework last week. He called me pretty but stupid, as usual, and that there was no proof and how meeting our doubles would collapse the universe or something. There are online theories and testimonies about people physically meeting their doubles, and stories about them switching places, but this is something else. Izuku, any ideas about the Quirk?”
Izuku was practically bouncing in his seat; Aizawa looked tired and Kirishima looked confused.
“Okay, so in the past 25 years, time and space Quirks have become way more common. Through totally, 100% legal methods, I found that there are about 30 people living in Japan with a time Quirk, but most are really minor and most who can time-travel can only go backwards or send someone backwards by a few years and only for a day or two. For space Quirks, again, non-classified information found through completely legal methods, there are maybe 10 registered and only about half of them can actually travel through parallel realities or physically transfer things, but none have reported being able to move other people mentally? Then again, if this is a villain, they probably wouldn’t report everything about the Quirk to the registry, hell, maybe they’re registered as Quirkless…” Izuku trailed off, rubbing his chin. The two teachers stared at him.
“Midoriya, I’m going to pretend that I don’t know how you got this information, but do us all a favor and never become a villain, okay?” Mic said, making Izuku laugh a little, “So basically, a parallel universe parasite is hijacking Bakugou’s body and somebody from our universe put it there using their Quirk. Can you un-do this, Eraser?”
Aizawa pressed his palms into his exhausted eyes and groaned.
“I don’t think so. I can only erase Quirks that are actively being used and within my sight, I can’t take away after-effects from victims. I erased Bakugou’s own Quirk during his spar with Mineta, but the double personality was still apparent. We need to find the Quirk user and make him fix this.”
“I’ll look through the registry and I’ll see if we can find anyone matching Bakugou’s description and a time or space Quirk. Midoriya, you can help me, I think you ‘totally, 100% legally’ have access to a higher security clearance in the HPSC Database than I do,” Mic said, “Little listeners, I also need the three of you to keep an eye on the imposter. If anything in his personality changes again or if he hurts himself or anyone else, tell Eraser and me immediately.”
“Kirishima, you have the room next to his, correct?” Aizawa asked.
“Yeah, and Todoroki’s right below him,” Kirishima responded.
“Great. If either of you hear him arguing with himself again, write down everything he says and report it. Do not tell your classmates and do not provoke or confront him in any way. We have no idea what the imposter is willing to do in his body, but from the self-mutilation and brutal attack on Mineta, we cannot assume that killing is off the table. Keep calm and keep each other safe.”
“You are all heroes, and we are going to solve this together,” Mic said, gently smiling, “Now get yourselves to bed.”
“Yes, sensei,” the three boys echoed.
Sensei
We’ve got the Quirk user. Ask the imposter to come with you to the Yagami Training Center on the east side of campus at 6 o’clock pm. Tell him that The Lurkers are interested in seeing his abilities for a potential job offer after graduation.
Kirishima 🦈
The devil works hard but Midoriya works harder 🤣. I’ll get him, sensei 🤜🤛
Midoriya 🌞
lmao Kiri anything is possible when you have “secret abilities” and also don’t give a fuck bc your friend’s in danger ✌
Sensei
Remind me to tell Yagi that you need extra homework in Ethics of Heroics. Todoroki, you’re joining us too. Come with Midoriya at 5:30, then Kirishima can bring the imposter. This ends tonight.
Me 🐱
k
The Yagami Training Center was a small, non-descript grey building on the far east side of the U.A. campus, nestled almost against the border wall and lightly illuminated by the rays of the setting sun. Shouto had never been in, of course, and nor had any other student that he knew. As Aizawa had explained to him, Kirishima, and Izuku, the center was actually a highly classified holding cell for interrogating and detaining villains who broke into U.A. grounds. Well, it was classified for Kirishima and Shouto; Izuku seemed completely unsurprised by this information. While One For All was an intense mystical power, Shouto privately thought that his best friend’s brain was what made him occasionally terrifying despite his genuinely good heart. The two of them approached the almost hidden door, then Izuku knocked the five-knock pattern that Aizawa-sensei had taught his class back in year one. The door opened and a fully costumed Present Mic ushered them inside.
“Evening, little listeners,” Mic said brightly despite the dark circles under his eyes, “Eraser’s got the big bad all wrapped up down here, so just go to the room at the end of the hall on the left and hang tight for a bit, ya dig?”
Shouto blinked at him. Even after almost two full years as his student, he still didn’t quite know how to handle Mic-sensei. He didn’t know how the much quieter Aizawa had been married to him for so many years, but maybe Mic’s light chased away that same endless grey in Aizawa that Bakugou chased away in Shouto. A small smile on his face and chest suddenly as warm as if he had been using his Quirk, Shouto was shaken from his musings by Izuku tugging him by the wrist into the room at the end of the hall.
Aizawa leaned against the table in the center of the room, capture weapon wrapped around an unconscious man sitting in a wooden chair that had been bolted to the ground. Another empty chair sat across from the man, Quirk-cancelling cuffs on the seat, open and ready to receive the imposter’s explosive hands. Aizawa’s eyedrops sat on the table next to him within reach, his Quirk inactivate but obviously ready to go if the detainee made any move toward using his own. Aizawa looked over at the two boys as they entered the room and closed the door behind them. He pushed off the table and walked toward them.
“Problem child, Todoroki,” he said, handing Izuku the ends of his capture weapon, “Keep an eye on this scum for a few minutes. I’m going to make sure the imposter can’t blow up Mic while we cuff him. If this one tries anything, handle it.”
“Got it, sensei!” Izuku chirped, green lighting briefly crackling over his body. Aizawa shook his head and left the room with the Quirk-cancelling cuffs, locking the door behind him. It was silent and tense in the room for a few minutes, both boys glaring at the man responsible for hurting their friend. Then, the detained man groaned as he began to stir, Izuku pulled tight on his bindings to make sure he was secure, and Shouto lit up a flame in his left palm. When the man opened his eyes, they were white and scarred, clearly as blind as Bakugou had described. He sniffed the air.
“Well, that’s insulting,” he mumbled, voice crackling like an old radio, “I go to all of this trouble to jump between universes and corrupt a baby hero, then the so-called Pros of this world leave me with a couple of kids? Why do I even bother…”
“Sorry for ruining your evil schemes,” Shouto deadpanned, extinguishing his palm, “That’s what heroes do.”
The man giggled, throwing his purple head back.
“What a thing to say!” he replied, “I like you, little hero, your parallel self is much more obnoxious. A real spoiled brat. He actually threw a tantrum when he lost the coin-flip to cross over! Can you believe that? I told him that he could come another time, but he just pouted and shrieked that it was unfair.”
“So, there’s another Shouto too?” Izuku asked, green eyes sparkling as he clearly itched for the chance to learn more about this new Quirk and the bizarre world it had attracted, “Is there another version of everyone? Are they all bad? Oooh, what would a villain like Shigaraki Tomura be like if he came from that world-“
“Jesus, kid, one question at a time,” the man interjected, “Man, I miss the you that doesn’t talk and just says what he needs to with fists and blades. Yes, there is another Todoroki Shouto and an alternate version of everyone in this universe. ‘Bad’ is a loaded term, so I’ll just say that my universe is a harsh world that breeds harsh people. Whatever Shigaraki Tomura is in this world, I can tell you that my version is a feral, mad creature that does not recognize or understand any element of humanity, even speech. Yours is some type of idealistic, visionary leader with a dedicated group of followers, right? Mine is a rabid dog.”
“You keep saying ‘my universe’,” Shouto said, frowning, “Are you a parasite too?”
The man growled at him, baring his teeth, then relaxed.
“Watch who you’re calling parasite, brat, but yes, you could say that. Imagine my shock when a soft, sweet Takahashi Junichiro popped up in my house two weeks ago,” the man, apparently Alternate Takahashi, responded, “He never expected that he’d bring something back with him. Poor thing even poured bleach in our eyes to try to make my mission harder, but, alas-“
The villain’s monologue was broken by shouting out in the hall and an explosion or two, before the noise suddenly died down. Aizawa, Present Mic, and a hardened Kirishima burst into the room, dragging a struggling Wrong Bakugou into the interrogation room. They thrust the boy, hands wrapped in the Quirk-cancelling cuffs, into the chair and Aizawa tied him tightly with his spare binding cloth. All charm and lightness forgotten, Wrong Bakugou looked murderous.
“You just couldn’t mind your own business, could you, Todoroki?” the imposter demanded, breathless from his struggle.
“Not a chance, parasite,” Shouto responded, “Now let Bakugou go.”
“You really care about this vile brute that dares to call himself Bakugou Katsuki?” the imposter laughed, “That’s sweet of you, but trust me, I’m much better. I’m not going back and you can’t make me.”
“Wanna bet?” Aizawa asked coldly, turning to Alternate Takahashi, “Release my student or you will never see the light of day again.”
“Because you’ll be in prison!” Mic added quickly, side-eying his husband, “Like, until you die of completely natural causes in fifty or so years.”
Alternate Takahashi hummed in consideration.
“And what will you give me if I send my universe’s Bakugou home? Sweeten the deal a little, my darling Present Mic.”
“You can just leave,” Aizawa stated, “Go home and never come back to our universe again. Release the real Takahashi Junichiro while you’re at it and we’ll even buy you dinner. Do we have a deal?”
“I’ll take the deal, but your universe’s Takahashi Junichiro is dead and so is my own body in my universe. We permanently bonded when he crossed over into my universe.”
“What do you mean by that?” Izuku demanded, “How does your Quirk work, anyway?”
The detained man took a deep breath, ignoring the way that Wrong Bakugou glared at him in betrayal.
“Our Quirk is called Twin. When we were separate beings, we could physically hop between universes ourselves or mentally send someone’s soul into an alternate reality’s body on a temporary basis. Poor Other Junichiro and I didn’t realize that two of us physically occupying the same realm in immediate proximity would cause the Quirk to implode, forcing my soul into his body while my real body disintegrated into nothing.”
Shouto frowned again.
“That still doesn’t explain how our universe’s Takahashi is dead. Or what Wrong Bakugou said about my- our Bakugou only having days left.”
“That’s easy, Shouto!” Wrong Bakugou chimed in, “It’s physics, you know? Two things can’t occupy the same space at the same time. My universe’s Takahashi was stronger, so he won and the other was snuffed out like a candle. I will be the sole occupant of this body, and I will be the first to usher in the new ruler of this world. Takahashi, stay strong, Midoriya is depending on you!”
“M-me?” Izuku asked, “What does other me want?”
“The real Midoriya Izuku is preparing to cross over!” Wrong Bakugou crowed, “His passable, remarkable Quirk stocks power and bonds to the user’s soul. Figure it out.”
Izuku turned pale, his freckles standing out against his ghost-white cheeks. Shouto raised an eyebrow at him, pressing him to speak.
“Holy fucking shit…” Izuku whispered frantically, “Two One For Alls in the same body? And all the previous users and Quirks too? That’s like, 18 people in one body! The other me can’t do this, he’ll go insane, the nine of us are hard enough to handle sometimes, much less all of the alternate versions. And- and my body will rip apart if he uses that much power! And if he survives… oh fuck… if he survives that? He’ll be worse than All For One! Takahashi, please, don’t do this!”
Wrong Bakugou rolled his eyes at Izuku’s begging; Aizawa snarled and tightened the binding cloth, hair briefly lifting as he let out a little bit of his Quirk. Mic put a hand on his arm and he calmed down.
“Okay, new deal!” Mic said, upbeat as always, “Takahashi, send the other universe’s Bakugou home and we will allow you to make a life for yourself in this universe, away from alternate Midoriya, if you choose. Eraser, can we agree that the two Takahashis have blended into one person and thus have an equal claim of citizenship to both the alternate dimension and our world?”
“I guess,” Aizawa sighed, “Look, I just want my student back. If you stay in our universe, we’ll let you go wherever and do whatever you want as long as you don’t try this ever again with anyone in our world.”
“Takahashi!” Wrong Bakugou cried, “The great Midoriya will forgive your weakness if you bring him over right now! Touch the weakling, serve your purpose!”
Takahashi closed his eyes and thought for a long time, humming slightly as he considered his options. He swallowed and gave a deep nod.
“Okay, I’ll switch him back. Release my bonds and I’ll do it.”
Izuku slackened the cloth.
“No tricks?” Shouto asked, eyes narrowed.
“No tricks,” Takahashi confirmed, “This universe is a lot softer, I think I’d like to stay. I’ll register whatever you need me to register, I’ll give a statement, whatever. As long as I’m out of jail and far away from that green-haired psychopath, I can be happy even blind in a new world.”
Shouto could see Izuku shudder; truly, his best friend’s alternate self must be a monster. Izuku was definitely going to be upset about this for days, so Shouto idly wondered what kind of gift he should get for him to make him feel better. As for his own evil twin, Shouto really couldn’t care less, but then again, he was never as tenderhearted as Izuku anyway. He re-focused as Aizawa removed the capture weapon, eying the man warily. The purple man stood up, stretched, and walked over to where Wrong Bakugou sat. The imposter spat at him and pulled futilely against his bounds.
“Traitor! You think you’re unique?” he hissed, “Somewhere, somehow, Midoriya and I will find you and rip your tongue out for this! Enjoy this stupid little world while you still can!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Takahashi sighed, then closed his blind eyes and put his palm on Bakugou’s forehead. A slight light glowed around his hand as his Quirk activated, then disappeared after about a minute. He dropped it and dusted off his palms; Bakugou slumped over, eyes closed. Kirishima smoothed his hair, a gentle smile on his face.
“That’s it?” Aizawa asked, “He’ll be fine after this?”
“Yup,” Takahashi said, “In about 12 hours, the imposter will wake up in his own shitty body in his own shitty universe and your Bakugou will resurface. Just in time too, I could sense that this universe’s Bakugou was close to perishing, maybe hours at most so keep an eye on him until he wakes up. Can I go now?”
“Hold on a minute, man, we’re going to visit my good friend Detective Tsukauchi together,” Mic said, looping his arm through Takahashi’s, “You’re not in trouble, I promise. Just gotta get you registered, get your statement, and then you’re free as a bird, savvy? Eraser, can you take care of the kids?”
“Of course I can, moron,” Aizawa said, rolling his eyes fondly. He rewrapped his capture scarf around his neck and they watched Present Mic escort Takahashi out of the room. Kirishima broke the silence with a loud exhale.
“Whew, that was close!” he said, “Sensei, should we take him to Recovery Girl? You know, in case he’s a little fucked- sorry, messed up from all that?”
“Yeah, I need to go fill out an incident report anyway for Problem Child Number Two. Kirishima and Midoriya, take his arms. Todoroki, take his legs,” Aizawa said, turning to leave, then pausing, “Oh, good job, by the way. Especially you, Todoroki.”
With that, Aizawa left the Yagami Training Institute. The three boys picked up their unconscious friend and hauled him to the infirmary. Recovery Girl shook her head at them, but accepted their summary of the Quirk accident and agreed that Bakugou should stay where his vitals and brain activity could be monitored until he woke up. They returned to 2-A Heights Alliance, hearts lighter but exhausted from the ordeal, so each grabbed something from the kitchen and two of them journeyed upstairs, the other to the common room (it was decided that Izuku would be best at explaining the incident to their classmates).
And Shouto was alone in his dorm room. Always alone, thinking about Bakugou.
He wondered if Bakugou ever thought about him.
Lord Explosion Murder 👑💥🔪
Hey. Icy-Hot. It’s me. Bakugou. Fuck, it’s the real me, okay? Not that fake fuck. I need to talk to you. Meet me in the courtyard tomorrow after training, under the cherry tree.
Me 🐱
k
Shouto sat on the bench under the cherry tree, nervously fiddling with the strap on his book bag. He tried to steady his breathing. So what if it’s Bakugou? Sure, Bakugou probably knew he was kind of into him now and knew way too much about him, and he was probably coming to tell Shouto to fuck off forever and die, but it was just Bakugou. Shouto had been prepared to have that light and color removed from his life for a long time, but he had greedily hoped to keep it for just a little bit longer before fading back into the grey.
“Hey,” a low, raspy voice said from behind him, startling Shouto out of his miserable spiral. He hated that his mind was instantly calmed by the sound of that voice, swirling thoughts organizing back into something that could ground him to earth.
“Hey,” Shouto replied. Bakugou sat stiffly on the bench next to him, a respectful distance away. He didn’t look at Shouto, but Shouto wanted him to, begged him mentally to look.
“So, uh, Shitty Hair told me what you did,” Bakugou began quietly, twisting his hands in his lap, “He said- he said that you were the first person to notice I was different and that you were upset about it and without you, I’d probably be dead. He was fucking crying about being a bad friend, if you can believe it. Well, you probably can, you’re best friends with that weepy nerd.”
Shouto wasn’t sure where he was going with this, so he stared at Bakugou until the other boy caught his eye and chuckled a little, picking up Shouto’s silent signal to go on. Shouto liked that they didn’t need words to communicate, but the knife of inevitable rejection twisted deeper.
“So, I guess like, thank you and shit,” Bakugou continued, still in that oddly subdued voice, “But, uh, I just want to know, fuck, I just want to know why.”
“’Why?’ Do you think I’d just let you die?” Shouto asked, baffled.
“No, fuck, but like- that guy in my body was an evil bastard, we fucking know that now, but I could see and hear everything that asshole did and said and he was just,” Bakugou responded, voice breaking a little as if he was about to cry, “He was just so nice. And good with people. And like, why did you decide to bring me back when you all could’ve had that guy instead?”
Shouto’s face hardened. So the imposter’s false words had gotten to him after all.
“He wasn’t you,” Shouto responded firmly, “I didn’t like him. He was a snake and a coward, who gives a fuck if he was nice and smiled and acted polite if he was also a liar, a sadist, and a manipulator? I’m not nice, I don’t fake smiles, and I’m not good with people either. There is no possible universe that I would choose someone like him over you and you’re an idiot if you think that anybody here isn’t completely relieved that we have the real you back.”
Bakugou whipped his head over to Shouto, crimson eyes wide, mouth open.
“You… would choose me?” he asked in a low voice, almost a whisper. Shouto’s heart started pounding. This was it, this was when Bakugou would reject him forever, too disgusted to even be Shouto’s friend anymore. But he definitely couldn’t back down now. Be brave, Shouto. Goodbye, light.
“Yes, I would,” Shouto said, trying to swallow his panic, “I like you, a lot. Romantically, I mean. I think you’re handsome and I like spending time with you. You make the world make sense for me, so yes, I choose you.”
After his confession, Shouto watched with bated breath as Bakugou’s face morphed from confusion to self-doubt to wild joy, a feral grin so wide that it nearly split it in half. There was that expressive face that Shouto so adored. He’d missed it dearly.
“I choose you too,” Bakugou said, sagging into the bench in disbelief and running his hands through his wild hair, “Fuck, I like you so much, Icy-Hot. Will you go out with me?”
Shouto’s grey world collapsed into itself, then exploded into vivid, iridescent color, stomach soaring into the heavens. He could feel himself smiling so hard that he couldn’t verbally respond as he nodded, yes, of course he would!
Ah well, they’d never needed many words anyway. They knew each other too well.
At 7:20 the next Monday morning, Shouto stumbled bleary-eyed to the bathroom with his shower caddy and towel, meeting Bakugou and Kirishima as the pair were exiting to get ready for the day. As usual, Bakugou rolled his eyes and told him that he was as lazy as he was pretty. Now that he knew what Bakugou meant by that, Shouto no longer blinked at him and Bakugou no longer scoffed and pushed past him. Shouto kissed his new boyfriend gently and sleepily patted him on the chest, then continued on to take his shower as Bakugou turned bright red and sputtered behind him and Kirishima laughed loudly at his flustered, explosive best friend.
It was their improved little morning routine and Shouto liked it that way.