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Izuku was good at being quiet.
And it wasn’t even because of his quirk, really, although it had certainly helped over the years as he gained control of it. He was just used to being quiet; used to avoiding the things he would otherwise have to run from. It was easier for everyone that way. Easier for him to avoid getting hurt, easier for his father to not have to deal with the sight of him sending him into a rage, easier for Kacchan not to have to worry over purple-black bruises and half-singed fur.
It helped that his quirk was geared to stealth, even when he wasn’t in his imperceptible spirit form. His feet naturally fell silently, furry fox ears pricked towards the other rooms in the apartment, listening for noise and gearing to run just in case. He could always slip into his spirit form and leave the apartment without having to be careful at all, but it was never a good idea to rely too heavily on one’s quirk.
He and Kacchan had both learned that lesson well over the years.
He took one more cursory glance before ducking out the door, taking pains to shut it as silently as he could manage. Most likely his father was passed out drunk in his room, but best not to tempt anything. If the gods were good then he would be gone when Izuku got home from school and he’d stay that way until he went to sleep. His apprehension was quickly overshadowed by excitement as he scampered down his apartment's stairs, more animal than human, and he thought about the day ahead.
Today was their first day at UA.
He still almost couldn’t believe it, but if he ever said as much he knew Kacchan would scowl and go off on a rant about how of course they got in, since they were the best of the best and they were guaranteed to be the best heroes once they graduated. He had every faith in his and Kacchan’s abilities, of course, but anxiety was an insistent bitch that never truly left him alone.
Said blonde was waiting for him just around the corner of Izuku’s street, scowling at his phone and rubbing absentmindedly at the back of his head. He didn’t say a word as he scampered up to him, taking his chin between two gentle fingers and tilting his head down until he had a clear view of the back of it. Kacchan grumbled but let him do as he pleased, pocketing his phone and hooking two fingers into Izuku’s jacket pocket, a natural result of the other boy being so close to him.
There was a bump on Kacchan’s head, but no bleeding and he didn’t look dizzy so he eventually tilted his head back up, blinking at him twice. “Tch.” He looked away, lowering his voice despite the street being empty besides them. “Was just the remote.”
Izuku didn’t say anything else, knowing a losing battle when he saw one and being on the end of continuous ones himself. As much as he hated to admit it, Kacchan had gotten off light this morning. Starting at a new school always made home life…stressful, and it looked like Kacchan wasn’t as lucky in escaping his mother’s wrath as he was escaping his father’s.
Still, just a remote wasn’t bad. Could’ve been a wine glass. Could’ve been a fist. Could’ve been a knife, even though that had only happened once and had sent Izuku into no less than three panic attacks. He still got a bit jumpy when he saw the long, shiny scar just above Kacchan’s left hip, but they had long since learned to take their victories when it came to their parents.
It was this that led him to just start walking, tangling his and Kacchan’s fingers together as they meandered towards the train station. He didn’t worry about hurrying or them being late; they had always left for school early. Better to get out of the house as soon as possible, with the added benefit of spending more time together. He sometimes felt like he couldn’t get enough time with Kacchan, not even if they spent every minute of every day together.
He knew Kacchan felt the same, even if they never outright talked about it. They had been practically surgically attached from the moment they were born, to the point that everyone who ever came in contact with them just had to deal with their closeness because it definitely wasn’t wearing off with age. In fact, as the years wore on and life started getting harder the older they got, the more they clung to each other. It probably wasn’t healthy, but that never mattered to them.
Besides, it wasn’t like they couldn’t exist without each other. They spent every possible minute that they could together but there were still times that they had to be apart. Neither of them had ever been brave (or stupid) enough to try to sneak into eachothers houses. It just wasn’t safe for either of them and, while Kacchan was often quick-to-anger and impulsive, he wasn’t stupid. He knew when he had to cut his losses. They spent every night apart, and those long weekends when Kacchan’s mom got angry over some perceived slight and kept him housebound, the even longer weeks during the summer when she would drag him on work trips. They could live without each other.
It didn’t really matter that they spent every night falling asleep to the sounds of each other breathing over the phone. It didn’t matter that Izuku felt those staticky stirrings of panic whenever Kacchan went too long without checking in, head spinning as he thought of everything his mom could be doing to him without Izuku knowing. It didn’t matter that Kacchan spent every spare second on video chat with him when he was out of the country, most of the time not even talking as they did their own things in each other's presence.
It was fine. They were fine. Besides, the benefits far outweighed the downsides, if there were any, of the two of them being so close. The ever-present hum of anxiety quieted down when he had Kacchan with him, paranoia cooling when he knew he had his partner in every sense of the word to watch his back. He felt grounded when Kacchan was with him. Settled, like an errant piece of himself had finally found its way back home.
It was easier for Kacchan when Izuku was around as well. That ever-present rage seemed to cool whenever Izuku was within his sight, some rumbling instinct to keep him safe finally resting when Izuku was nearby and he was able to protect him if he was in any danger. Izuku used to not like this when they were younger, under the impression that Kacchan just saw him as weak and in need of protection, but his greatest pride in himself was his ability of observation. He could read Kacchan like an open book after knowing him for their entire lives, and he eventually worked out that his overprotective tendencies weren’t because he thought Izuku weak (and they better not be, for how often he kicks Kacchan’s ass during their spars), but because it was his way of showing he cares. Words weren’t nearly as meaningful as actions when it came to Bakugou Katsuki.
Besides, once he got past the assumption that Kacchan was looking down on him, it was a nice feeling to have someone want to protect him. Kacchan was pretty much the only thing that made him feel safe these days.
The train was fairly empty once they shuffled in, but that didn’t stop them from pressing so close together on the bench that they were practically melded into one being. There were enough people around and the train was loud enough to have his ears pressing flat to his skull, downy-white tail curling tight around Kacchan’s waist. Usually he’d already be in his small physical form, a tiny-enough arctic fox to curl around Kacchan’s neck and ignore all the things that made him nervous. He did that a lot whenever they had to go places with a lot of people, and in their world of weird quirks they usually got away with a boy with a fox around his neck walking around the mall, but they were UA students now.
The last thing he needed to do was jeopardize their dream with unlicensed public quirk use.
He still burrowed under Kacchan’s arm and shoved his face into his neck, all but climbing into his lap as the train took them away. Kacchan, for his part, just tucked him closer, wrapping a warm and firm arm around him to keep him grounded. He was so glad he had Kacchan in his life. He doubts he’d be a functioning human without him.
It didn’t take as long as he thought it would to arrive at school, and he followed pliantly along as Kacchan tugged him off the train, reeling him in to wrap an arm around his shoulders this time, keeping him close and warm as UA loomed above them. Kacchan could read him just as well as vice versa and had already anticipated the dread that would shoot down his spine at the sight of the massive building. They had already been here once, for the entrance exam, and it wasn’t any easier the second time around. Kacchan kept him close, though, and they walked in sync, his left hand finding the one thrown around his shoulder and linking their fingers again like it was the most natural thing in the world.
For them, it was.
They ended up being the first ones to their classroom, not a student or teacher in sight as they walked through the massive door labeled ‘1A’. His nose twitched as he rapidly took in the room they’d be learning in for at least the next year. They’d get a new classroom every year but their teacher would stay the same, something unusual for anyone other than hero students. He supposed it made sense, considering all the things they would be studying and how their homeroom teacher would be primarily overseeing their heroics classes. He hoped their teacher was nice.
Izuku sat right behind Kacchan, which suited him fine other than that he would prefer if they were both sitting at the back of the room instead. Better to see all entrances and exits. Instead, Kacchan was in the first row, which would be better for him if his hearing got any worse but not great for either of their-admittedly high-paranoia. He could tell by the set of Kacchan’s jaw that he made the same assessment, but neither of them spoke a word of complaint as they walked over to sit. Izuku would be uneasy with someone constantly at his back, but having Kacchan so near would be helpful.
Kacchan slouched in his chair, leaning back to kick his feet up onto the surface of his desk. Not at all the proper way he should be sitting, especially in a place like UA, but it allowed his head to lean far back enough for Izuku to idly run his fingers through his hair, bringing his claws out to scratch lightly at his scalp after a while. Kacchan sighed, shoulders untensing just a bit, and let his head tip back and his eyes slip closed.
Neither of them particularly wanted to talk, both of them nervous in their own way and knowing idle chatter wouldn’t do anything to fix it, so Izuku parked his chin on his forearm, slouching forward in his own desk and filling his vision with his Kacchan. He knew it’d only make him more anxious to watch the door for more people to come in so he didn’t bother. He and Kacchan probably wouldn’t grow close to any of their classmates anyhow. They never did. They never really felt the need to socialize with anyone else beyond what was necessary, and anyone else who made the effort soon realized that they were too wrapped up in each other to care about making other friends, or just thought that their bond was weird or creepy.
It didn’t bother them much. Having more people in their life is just having more people who might hurt them.
Izuku’s hand flexed slightly as the door opened and footsteps rang across the floor but he didn’t look. He knew Kacchan would be watching through slitted eyes while letting everyone else think he was dozing or sleeping. This was a tactic they used often throughout middle school, whenever the other kids would get the ideas in their heads to bully Izuku for being quiet or small or for his visible quirk features or for whatever other asinine reasons kids come up with to be cruel. They would lead the bullies in by letting them think Izuku’s “guard dog” was docile, and then Kacchan would pounce when they least expected it.
Such things would usually be put on permanent records but…well, Aldera did always favor strong, flashy quirks. That didn’t mean Izuku, but that did mean Kacchan so Izuku fell under the same leniency that Kacchan got whenever he acted out. Corrupt as all hell, but it helped that neither of them actually made trouble unless someone made trouble for them. This was almost always when people got ideas about messing with him, so rather than Kacchan slamming them with bullying charges (which he’d never actually go through with, since that required parents who actually gave a damn) they would let Kacchan off scott-free and give the bullies milder punishments to ‘keep the peace’. They never usually complained or bothered them after Kacchan put the fear of God into them so it never really bothered the two of them.
UA was an unknown element when it came to bullying and such, so it was best to stay on their guard. Not that they weren’t always on their guard, but still.
“Excuse me!”
Izuku flinched so hard at the sudden yell that he banged his knee against the underside of his desk, letting out a hiss with a bit more fang than he wanted. Kacchan jerked his gaze toward him immediately, taking a second to make sure he was mostly alright before swinging his head towards whoever yelled. Another classmate was striding toward them, chopping his arm in a way that looked strangely robotic as he glared. Izuku could feel himself shrinking away, ears tucking back against his head and tail coiling around his abdomen tightly.
Kacchan was already sneering before robo-kid stopped right in front of him. “Please take your feet off of your desk! That is not the proper way to be sitting in class and you are disrespecting the highly-regarded institution of UA!”
Izuku was almost more shocked that the kid was calling out Kacchan rather than he was scared at his booming voice. They had gotten used to no one bothering them as long as they kept to themselves but it looks like things would definitely be different in UA. Izuku’s fingers tightened into fists, barely noticing the bite of claws he had yet to sheathe. He resisted the animal urge to dart away, either across the tops of unclaimed desks or out the window to his left. He couldn’t run right now, no matter how much the loud noises made him want to dig a hole and hide.
“What’s it to you, hah? I bet you came from one of those fancy-ass rich-boy schools, didn’t you?”
“I attended Soumei Private Academy!”
Kacchan barked out a laugh, and despite the awful situation Izuku felt himself relax just a bit at the familiar sound. “So I was right. Were you born with a stick up your ass or did they shove it up there for you?”
The kid sputtered like a car backfiring and it was only then that Izuku noticed he had engines on the back of his calves.
An Iida? Ingenium has a younger brother, doesn’t he? Now that I mention it, the two of them do look awfully similar…
Kacchan continues bickering with presumed-Iida, reaching out behind him without breaking his long string of curse words to tap Izuku’s arm twice in quick succession. He taps Kacchan’s hand twice back, assuring that he is fine and only startled. Kacchan left his arm on the desk then, turning his hand until it was palm up so Izuku could run his fingertips across the lines and calluses as much as he pleased. It was one of their usual ways to calm him down, giving Izuku something to focus on other than what was causing him anxiety at the moment.
Eventually their argument was interrupted by a dry voice from the doorway. “If all you’re here to do is chat and make friends then feel free to leave.”
His ears perked and he turned, looking over at-
Holy shit. Eraserhead was their homeroom teacher.
~
After a brief, and chilly, introduction, Aizawa-sensei sent them off to the locker room to change and for them to meet him on the field for some sort of assessment test. He figured they’d be doing some sort of orientation or assembly or other first day of school nonsense, but this was the Hero Course. Things were bound to be different in ways he probably hadn’t even considered yet.
Izuku and Kacchan stuck to each other like glue, as usual, walking close to the locker room and claiming the same locker to store their things. They figured out pretty early on that while students had no problem messing with Izuku’s things, they definitely wouldn’t dare to touch Katsuki’s, ergo they shared. They made their way to a shower stall quietly, with Izuku changing first while Kacchan stood guard and then switching. No one usually made a move on them in that timeframe but they were still quick with changing clothes regardless. Only one other boy seemed to notice their little routine, the one with the head of a bird, but he simply looked for a moment before going back to his own clothes, content to mind his business.
They were the first ones out of the locker room and they hurried to the field, not wanting to take the chance of anyone walking behind them for a period of time. Aizawa-sensei was waiting for them, hands tucked in his pockets and face tucked in his capture scarf, but other than a quick glance at them he said nothing. It was several more minutes before the rest of the class started to trickle out, and Izuku could sense their sensei’s growing annoyance, so he started playing with Kacchan’s hand again. Kacchan passed the time scanning the surroundings with wary eyes. Neither of them liked how wide open this track space was, with a thick treeline not far away that anyone could be hiding in, but they didn’t say a word of complaint. They could both feel Aizawa-sensei’s gaze darting over to them every so often but neither of them ever met his eyes.
Not a word was spoken until the entire class was gathered. “Only two of you were out here in an acceptable time. Villains and injured civilians will not wait while you’re getting dressed. I expect all of you out of the locker room within five minutes from now on. Understood?”
The rest of the class looked properly shocked and a little cowed, letting out meek “Yes, sensei”’s along with Kacchan and Izuku’s even ones. He went on to explain the assessment they were doing before turning, quite abruptly, to Kacchan.
“Bakugou. You came first in the entrance exam.” Izuku felt a bit of pride wiggle in his chest, remembering Kacchan’s roar of excitement when he saw the rankings. He had spun Izuku so much that he felt dizzy by the end. “What was your record for the ball throw in middle school?”
Kacchan said it the same time Izuku thought it. “67 meters.”
Aizawa nodded, face as blank as ever. “Now try it with your quirk.” He held out a ball towards Kacchan, jerking his chin towards the spot marked a bit away from him and where the rest of the class stood.
As Kacchan moved forward, Izuku felt the burn of Aizawa-sensei’s gaze turn to him. He couldn’t imagine why his teacher was looking at him when he just put Kacchan in the spotlight but it made him uneasy like nothing else, letting Kacchan’s hand slip out of his grasp as he moved and trying to ignore the heavy stare drilling into him. He kept his eyes on Kacchan, like he usually did when he was anxious, and found serenity in the steady set of his partner’s shoulders.
Kacchan reared his arm back and Izuku tucked his ears against his head, raising his hands to cover his human ears as well. A few people looked at him weirdly before Kacchan set off a powerful blast, his ball careening through the sky with a scream of “DIE!” following it.
Never let it be said that his Kacchan ever did anything half-assed.
Aizawa-sensei flipped the measuring device around, showing a number that was well into the seven hundreds. Izuku sent Kacchan a smile, receiving a slightly manic one in return as he returned to his place at Izuku’s side. Izuku hooked their pinkies together as Aizawa went on to explain the rest of the tests they would be doing, which were mostly just basic fitness tests they had to take in middle school with the added benefit of being able to use their quirks during them.
A girl with pink hair and skin was practically vibrating near the middle of the group. “We can use our quirks as much as we want? Awesome!”
Another boy chimed in. “This’ll be so much fun!”
Kacchan scoffed quietly and Izuku chewed on his lower lip. Fun? It’s not like this is Sports Day or something…
“Fun?” He felt a chill go down his spine at Aizawa’s tone. “Alright then. Whoever comes in last place is expelled.”
His hand clamped around Kacchan’s tight enough that the other boy made a near-silent wheezing noise.
“You’re here to learn to be heroes. If you’re here to have fun then you can turn around and get out.”
“Expelled?” A girl with short brown hair gasped. “But it’s the first day! That’s not fair!”
Aizawa-sensei raised a brow. “Are villain attacks fair? Are natural disasters or hostage situations or any other thing that heroes have to deal with on the daily fair?”
He scoffed. “You’re in the hero course. This is the big leagues. Start taking this seriously or go to another school, because you won’t be getting any fairness here.” He grinned at them, and it was the farthest thing from pleasant or nice. “Welcome to Ultra Academy.”
He tried not to let the threat of expulsion hanging over him throw him off his game but it was difficult. His quirk was the farthest thing from flashy, and he didn’t really see many ways it could help him during the tests. He turned to his smaller physical form during the dash because he knew it was faster than his human self, but even then there were people who cleared the distance in nearly an instant. He and Kacchan had trained their bodies as well as their quirks, so while he had a bit of an edge over the people who were obviously only relying on their quirks, it certainly wasn’t anything impressive. He didn’t blow any of the tests out of the park and he was starting to get fidgety as they made their way back to the ball throw.
And of course, he was the last to go, with everyone’s eyes on him.
Kacchan always managed to catch his gaze whenever he glanced nervously at the crowd, keeping his attention and grounding him whenever he started getting worked up. He knew his quirk wasn’t going to be of any help to him here; manifesting his extra tails might give him a bit more strength but nowhere near enough to be able to out throw most of the others. The girl with the gravity(?) quirk scored an infinity for gods’ sake, how was he supposed to fight that?
He shook himself mentally, winding his arm back to throw and knowing he’d probably only score as much as Kacchan did without his quirk. Just get it over with. Just stay in the circle and throw the ball. Just…
His ears flicked, and he lowered his hand.
He cleared his throat, knowing it was hard for him to speak even on a good day, and asked in a hoarse voice. “The rule is to stay within the circle?”
Aizawa raised a brow but nodded.
“That’s the only rule?”
“Yes, Midoriya.” He sounded irritated but Izuku shoved that in a box to deal with later, looking over at Kacchan, who could read what he wanted without saying a word.
He laughed quietly, baring his teeth in a grin as he stuck his hands in his pockets and made his way over to Izuku. He took a step back to give Kacchan room, sending a glance behind himself to make doubly sure he hadn’t stepped out of bounds, before turning back around and making sure both sets of his ears were covered again. He saw a few people following his example in the crowd this time, a girl with what looked like headphone jacks attached to her ears and a boy with multiple limbs and the boy with the animal quirk specifically.
Kacchan blasted Izuku’s ball away, without a shout this time, and Aizawa-sensei waited for the dust to clear before turning the measuring device around to display the score. It was only about five below Kacchan’s.
Immediately, protests started ringing from the rest of the class. “That’s so not fair, he got Bakugou to throw the ball for him!” “Yeah, that’s cheating!”
Aizawa put the device away, shoving his hands back in his pockets. Izuku fought the urge to shrink away, slinking closer to Kacchan until the backs of their hands were pressed together. His teeth were bared in a snarl but he hadn’t started yelling yet, knowing that while Izuku would never be afraid of him, even more loud noise was exactly what he didn’t need right now.
“He followed the rules.” Aizawa said bluntly. “His score is valid.”
“But Sensei!” Iida said, doing the same weird hand-chopping thing he was doing earlier. And here Izuku thought he had weird habits. “How are you supposed to assess him if he did not even participate? How is one to be a hero if they shirk their work onto someone else?”
Izuku flinched slightly, feeling the weight of many pairs of eyes darting to him awaiting his response. He was going to start shaking soon, he knew it, but he gathered his minuscule courage to fire back, not wanting anyone to think he was just a pushover and have a repeat of people pushing him around. At a hero school, nonetheless.
“Heroes who can’t rely on their comrades when needed will either burn out or die.”
His voice was quiet but it was evident that everyone heard him with the way they all suddenly went silent, staring at him in open-mouthed shock. Maybe it was a bit harsh of him to say but it was true. His classmates are acting like they’re just here to throw their quirks around and smile for the cameras. That’s not what being a hero means.
“Midoriya’s right.” Aizawa-sensei said and every head whipped toward him, including Izuku’s. “Trying to do everything alone in the field doesn’t make you strong; it makes you stupid. Cooperation and teamwork are essential for heroes.”
Kacchan looped gentle fingers around his wrist, leading him back to the group but keeping them a step away from most of them, trying to help him ignore the way they were all still staring.
“Here are your scores.”
Izuku scanned the list anxiously before letting out a sigh of relief. 17th. Not the best but it wasn’t last and that was what mattered. He felt bad for whoever Hagakure Tooru was, though.
Or he did, until Aizawa-sensei revealed that the expulsion was just a lie to get them all to perform their best. A ‘logical ruse’, as he called it. He and Kacchan shared a look as the rest of them broke into shouts of dismay and one girl started crying from relief, most like number 20.
They would have to be on their guard in this class after all.
Izuku thought the excitement of the day was finally over when Aizawa dismissed them, telling them to change and pick up their orientation packets from his desk in homeroom before going home. He should’ve known better than to assume but he was too busy being relieved that he wasn’t expelled to pay much attention to anything as he and Kacchan fell into step with their classmates as they all headed to the locker room. He was whispering half to Kacchan and half to himself when he felt a sharp yank on his tail.
He let out a sharp fox scream that had everyone nearby wincing before popping into his spirit form, disappearing from view and scampering up Kacchan’s clothes until he was curled around his neck. Not that anyone could actually see him now; he was invisible and intangible in his spirit form, able to move undetected and even phase through walls if he wanted. The only indication he was still there at all would be the cold weight pressing down on Kacchan’s shoulders, more of a constant chilly breeze rather than a physical presence. He didn’t even dent his clothing when he burrowed half under his collar.
Kacchan, for his part, whirled around immediately with a snarl on his face, hands popping until he looked down at the boy with purple balls for hair who still had his hand outstretched, looking up at Kacchan in shock and fear. Kacchan darted forward, curling a burning hand in his shirt and lifting his feet clear off the ground until their faces were inches away.
“Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on him without his permission again or I will make you into wine. You understand me?” Maybe it was the way Kacchan said it, not shouting but quiet, almost whispering that had the other boy shaking in his boots, looking like he was about to piss himself. He nodded shakily and Kacchan dropped him on his ass without another word.
“Mineta, detention.” Aizawa said, and it was only then did he realize the entire class was staring at the scene in shocked silence. “Bakugou, Midoriya is…?”
Kacchan scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Spirit form. He’s wrapped around my neck and probably not coming back until we leave.”
Aizawa-sensei looked down at his best approximation of where Izuku was and he was close enough to the mark that he started shaking. He didn’t know what it would feel like to have Erasure used on him, to have himself forcibly ripped out of one of his forms, and he really didn’t want to find out.
Eventually, he sighed and nodded, jerking his chin towards the gym. Kacchan didn’t bother sticking around any longer, taking them to the locker room slightly faster than he would’ve otherwise. Izuku only turned solid long enough to change back into his uniform before he was gone again, curling around Kacchan’s neck and grateful for his intangibility so he didn’t get in Kacchan’s way while he changed. They were the first ones done again, and Kacchan ignored the guys who called out at them when they exited, merely quickening his pace to get into the quiet halls sooner.
With only a quick stop at their homeroom for Kacchan to grab two packets and both of their bags, they were out the doors, forgoing the train to walk and trying to put off going home as soon as possible. They knew they couldn’t stay out forever, with it being the first day of school especially. Izuku’s dad wouldn’t care, probably wouldn’t even be home, but Kacchan’s mom would.
“You don’t wanna be Little Fox?” Kacchan said eventually after walking for a bit. He had his own bag slung over his right arm and Izuku’s bag over his left. Izuku reached out a paw, tapping Kacchan’s cheek once before tucking his snout closer to Kacchan’s throat until he could feel the pounding of his pulse.
Kacchan sighed but nodded, continuing to walk along.
“Tomorrow will be better.”
Neither of them really believed that, but they would continue on regardless.
They always did.
~
Meanwhile, Aizawa Shouta was still standing in the field he administered the assessment in, eyes on the gym doors and mind on two of his oddest students this year. Not that he could accurately judge that after one day, that would be illogical, but he could tell that there was something that set them apart from the rest of the students, and it wasn’t just the way they voluntarily secluded themselves.
He started meandering his way to the staff room, knowing that Ectoplasm always administered detention on the first day of school (Nedzu’s idea to…encourage good behavior in those who saw fit to act up on the first day) so he didn’t need to worry about his other student who was touchy in more ways than one. He would need to keep an eye on that one if he didn’t shape up, but for today he was free to go home on time with his husband and wife. He was already looking forward to his pre-patrol nap, curling under the kotatsu with a cat or two and his head in Nemuri’s lap as Hizashi bopped around the kitchen and made an early dinner for all of them before he went off to the station.
As he walked, his mind drifted back to a certain conversation he had with his boss on the day he got his class roster.
”Ah, Shouta-kun, take a seat!” Nedzu gestured to the comfy couch he kept in his office for visitors he actually liked, and Shouta took it and the offered cup of tea without question. Nedzu always had a reason for calling him into his office, even if it was just for a catch-up, but he had a feeling it was for something different today since they had just gotten out of a staff meeting. He had a million things to do with the upcoming semester but he could tell whatever his former homeroom teacher was about to tell him was important.
Nedzu joined him on the chair across from him with his own cup of tea, and they both took a sip before he spoke again. “It concerns two of your upcoming students. Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku.”
”Troublemakers?” He asked, knowing teachers weren’t allowed to look at their students' specific records right away to prevent bias. Something about ‘fresh starts’ or whatever.
Nedzu’s whiskers twitched. “Not quite.” He tapped a paw to the table between them and a holograph popped up with two unredacted files. He saw the information he had already been granted access to: physical information, birthdates, emergency contacts, quirk description and other basic info. He read further down to the lines that hadn’t been included in his initial files on all his students: grade history, history of detention or other punishments, past teacher comments. This is evidently what Nedzu had wanted to show him, since there was an identical comment on each file from their last homeroom teacher.
’Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku should be kept together whenever possible.’
Shouta raised a brow, looking over at his boss who still had a bland smile on his face and nothing else. “Kept together? Why?”
Nedzu scrolled the files until they showed a section labeled ‘Councilor’s Suggestions’. On Bakugou’s file:
’Suspected I.E.D.’
And on Midoriya’s:
’Suspected G.A.D. Suspected Selective Mutism.’
”Suspected?”
Nedzu took another sip of tea. “I reached out to their middle school counselor. She suggested to Bakugou’s parents and Midoriya’s father to take them to a therapist to get an official diagnosis, but it would appear they never did.”
Shouta fought back a sigh, taking a sip of his own tea just to have something to do so he didn’t give in to the urge. “What does this have to do with keeping them together?”
”It would appear that the children are more…settled, when they are with each other, or so their previous teacher said when I reached out. Bakugou has fewer outbursts and Midoriya’s anxiety isn’t quite as severe.”
Shouta scoffed, unimpressed. “Codependent? That would be extremely dangerous in the field.”
Nedzu smiled with a bit more teeth this time, leaning forward to tap at the table again. “I had the same thought, so I made sure they were placed in separate training grounds for the practical. They would’ve been regardless, seeing as they were from the same school, but sometimes things can fall through the cracks so I assured it myself.”
He pulled up two camera feeds in place of where the files used to be displayed, and Shouta watched with a critical eye as Midoriya and Bakugou fought through robots during the practical exam. They were in separate grounds, true, actually the two farthest from each other in the lineup because Nedzu was nothing if not thorough, and were ripping through robots with unrefined skill, but skill all the same. There were no lingering signs of anxiety in either of them, no darting glances or shaky hands, and he even watched Midoriya open his mouth and speak clearly to someone he pulled out of the line of fire to assure they were alright before darting off again.
”As you can see, their attachment does not distract them in combat, nor do they seem overly anxious when they are apart. Although-” He tapped at the table and gestured to the singular feed that replaced the other two. It was from one of their many security cameras dotted around campus, and he had to comb through the crowd of teenagers before he managed to lock onto Midoriya’s shock of white hair and the fuzzy fox ears perched on top of it. He was darting his glance around, approaching frantically, and chewing on his nail so hard Shouta was sure it was bleeding at his point. This continued until his right ear flicked and he did a half-turn, surging forward until he practically collided with Bakugou, burrowing under his arm and his tail wagging up a storm. Bakugou scratched behind one of his ears, securing an arm around the shorter boy's shoulders, and started to lead them out of the crowds.
The holograph flickered out, leaving him staring at Nedzu’s placid smile.
”I would like you to keep a bit of a closer eye on them than the rest of your students.”
Shouta thought back to the easy way the two boys wrapped around each other and chuckled dryly. “So they don’t break the PDA rules?”
Nedzu chittered but continued on. “That as well, but I want to make sure their…attachment doesn’t go too far. Having close relationships is all well and good, but if that relationship starts to distract them or negatively affect their performance…”
Nedzu trailed off but Shouta got the gist. Attachments of any kind were a danger as a hero. A necessary danger, yes, because he knew more than anyone about how loneliness can bite just as deep as any blade, but a danger all the same. If Bakugou and Midoriya started prioritizing each other in the field over the mission then he would expel them without a second thought. Better to have their dreams crushed than have them die for each other.
”I’ll keep an eye on them.”
He would have to.
He wouldn’t let those two turn into a tragedy.