Work Text:
By the time he had turned 4 years old, Izuku already knew that it was a dog eat dog world, and he was at the bottom of the pyramid. Maybe it was because he mumbled when he talked, or maybe it was because he was so small. Or maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t because of anything he had done wrong, it was just because kids could be mean. But, regardless of the reasoning behind it, Izuku never could seem to go a day without being picked on.
Today was no different than any of the others, and he had been cornered at the park by some kids a few years older than him. He didn’t even know their names, but they certainly seemed to be having fun making his life miserable every afternoon. Izuku tried his hardest to keep from crying, but he failed, just like he had every other day. He sniffled and wiped the tears from his cheeks as fast as he could, hoping they wouldn’t be noticed.
“Aww, little crybaby thinks he can hide from us?” One of the kids jeered at him. “How about we really give him something to cry about?” Another one raised his fist, and Izuku knew exactly where this was going.
He lowered his head and eyes, and waited for the punch to land, but before the first blow could hit him, Izuku found himself being pushed out of the way. He heard someone yell out “Oi! Leave Deku alone!” and immediately perked up because he knew what that voice meant.
It meant that his Kacchan had come to save him!
Izuku looked back up just in time to see Kacchan land a quick punch on the cheek of the kid who had almost punched him. It didn’t take him long to push the other kids back, and after maybe a minute or two of fighting, everyone was gone other than Izuku and Kacchan.
“Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed, running over to where his best friend was and throwing his arms around him in a hug, “you are the bestest friend ever!”
His friend scoffed and pushed him away, brushing off seemingly non-existent dirt from his clothes. “I’m not your friend, Deku. Those assholes had it coming for them, anyway.”
Izuku’s eyes widened and he gasped in horror. “Kacchan!” He squeaked, “you can’t say that word! It’s a bad word!”
The blond laughed and leaned over Izuku. “Oh, and who’s gonna stop me? You can’t even stop a few weak ass kindergarteners from beating you up!” There was a sort of derision in Kacchan’s eyes when he said this, though it was softened by an undercurrent of fondness.
“That’s not fair!” Izuku stomped his foot and pouted at his best friend. “How am I supposed to beat them when they’re so much bigger than me?”
Kacchan just glared at Izuku for a moment, just long enough for Izuku to be cowed back into submission. “No one would mess with you if you would just stop being so pathetic,” he sneered, “I could teach you how, if you want, Deku.” At that, Kacchan raised his fists, like he was about to start punching Izuku next.
Izuku froze, eyes wide and legs locked, before breaking out of it and darting away from Kacchan as fast as he could. He never could understand why Kacchan would always save him, and then immediately threaten to beat him up himself. But, Kacchan never chased after him like the other kids did, so Izuku knew he was safe once he left the park. As he walked home, he hummed to himself and wondered at how strange it was that, of all the kids who beat him up, he was most scared of his best friend.
Meanwhile, Katsuki stood at the playground and glared at the spot where Deku had just stood. Deku always complained about being beat up, but never took Katsuki up on his offers to train him. He shrugged to himself and started walking back to the swings where he had been before Deku distracted him, not bothering to chase after him. After all, if the nerd didn’t want to be able to protect himself, who was Katsuki to stop him?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eijirou was going to die. Well, maybe not die, but he was definitely going to fail his English test tomorrow, and that was just as bad as dying, in his eyes. No matter how hard he had tried to study, none of the new vocabulary made any sense to him, and he usually ended up wanting to cry.
He thought he was doing a good job at covering up his stress, at least, but clearly it wasn’t good enough, because Bakugou had stopped their afternoon training early because he was “sick and fucking tired” of Eijirou’s wandering attention.
So now Eijirou felt even worse! Not only was he going to fail his English test, but he also let his best bro down. Bakugou hadn’t even waited for him to finish changing before heading back to the dorms, and they always walked back to the dorms together. He dragged his feet all the way back to his own room, walked inside, and flopped face down on his bed.
Eijirou laid there for a few moments, allowing himself a small pity party, before he heard someone banging their fist against his door. After groaning quietly into his pillow, he pushed himself up and called out “Come in!”
The door slammed open and Eijirou was surprised to find Bakugou barging into his room. “Bro, what are you doing?” He asked, quickly standing up from his bed and smoothing out any wrinkles in his sheets (Bakugou had yelled at him on multiple different occasions about the importance of keeping your bed made at all times, and Eijirou really didn’t want to get another lecture on that today).
“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” The blond reached out and snagged the back of Eijirou’s shirt, dragging him to his desk chair and pushing him to sit down. “I’m here to make sure you actually study and don’t fail this test tomorrow. I can’t be seen associating with an idiot.” He slammed down a few notebooks and binders on Eijirou’s desk and opened them to the unit their test was going to be over. “Now close your fucking mouth and start studying, Shitty Hair. I have to be in bed by 8 pm and refuse to mess up my schedule because of you.”
Eijirou did, in fact, close his mouth, which he hadn’t even realized had opened in shock when Bakugou was talking. All Eijirou could get out was a heartfelt “Bro!” before he felt himself getting choked up. Bakugou really was the best bro a dude could ask for.
“Don’t you dare get fucking sentimental on me, Kirishima, and don’t call me bro! By the end of the night, you will have all of this memorized, or I’ll kill you before you get the chance to fail this test. Now, tell me the English word for 文化?”
And with those words of encouragement, the studying began. Any time Eijirou got a vocab word wrong, Bakugou would thwack him in the head with a small rolled up notebook, and any time he got a word right, Bakugou would give him a begrudging nod of acknowledgement. By the time it was 8 pm and Bakugou was leaving, Eijirou felt like he actually understood most of the material.
Bakugou had already gathered up most of his stuff to leave, but before he could leave Eijirou stopped him. “Seriously, bro, thank you! I couldn’t ask for a better friend.” Eijirou knew he was pushing Bakugou’s limits with that, but hoped that the blond’s generous spirit would extend to not killing Eijirou for calling them friends.
“I’m not your fucking friend,” Bakugou spat out, “and get some fucking sleep tonight. If I see you exhausted tomorrow because you spent all night studying this shit, I will make you regret ever being born.” He said before slamming the door, and leaving Eijirou alone in his room.
A few days later, Eijirou was staring at his fully graded English test, tears in his eyes. He blinked them away before looking around the classroom. He spotted Shinsou and Momo comparing their grades and answers, Kaminari was loudly sobbing over his test and being comforted by Mina, and Iida was standing up by Mic’s desk, asking questions about his results.
Eijirou looked back down at his test before looking over at where Bakugou was. Bakugou was, surprisingly, already looking over at him, and he quirked an eyebrow at Eijirou. The redhead raised up his test, with a clear B+ written on top of it, and beamed at Bakugou. The explosive teen simply nodded once, in silent approval, and looked back down at his own paper. Eijirou’s chest filled with warmth, knowing now that he hadn’t let his friend down, that their efforts had all been worth it.
That afternoon, before he and Bakugou started training, Bakugou only had one thing to say to him. “Next test? You’re getting a fucking A.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shouto didn’t know how long he had been sitting on this couch, staring into space. He couldn’t remember why he was there, or how he got there, or even where he was. All he knew was that the wall across from him was very interesting, and that the world has gone numb some time ago.
He thought he heard someone else coming down the stairs, but couldn’t bring himself to bother looking over to see who it was. Shouto wasn’t even sure if he was real right now, so whoever it was, they probably wouldn’t even notice him there.
The other noise started getting louder, and he thought they might have been addressing him, but that couldn’t be right. After all, his name wasn’t “Icyhot”. It was Shouto. Todoroki Shouto. Todoroki. His awareness fuzzed out some more as he got caught up in memories of the past. Thoughts of who he was, and who he used to be, and everything in between, all swirled in his head and drowned out any outside sensations.
Shouto didn’t know how long he had been sitting on this couch, but suddenly he felt something at the edge of his awareness. Someone was in front of him? But that couldn’t be right. After all, he wasn’t even real right now.
Then suddenly, a warmth in his hands caught his attention, poking at the fog filling his brain, as though it could make it go away. He brushed his fingers over the warmth, trying to identify it. It was smooth, and round. Not like a sphere, though. More,,,, flat? A cylinder, he realized after a while. But there was an obstruction on the cylinder, something stopping his fingers from gliding all the way around. It poked out, attached near the top and bottom of the warmth, and curved in the middle. A handle, perhaps? When had Shouto picked up a mug?
Suddenly, at the revelation that he was holding a mug, all the other sensations he had shut out started filtering back in. Shouto was sitting on the couch in the main living area of the dorms. He could hear faint noises coming from the kitchen, as well as the hum of the AC. The warm mug he was holding seemed to be filled with an herbal tea of some sort, and he could smell something savory somewhere he wasn’t able to see. Shouto brought it to his lips and took a small sip, relishing in the sensation of the steam brushing against his cheeks, warming his whole face. The tea was flavored lightly with chamomile and lavender, and sweetened with honey.
At once, Shouto blinked and remembered everything. He had woken up at 2 am in a cold sweat, screaming from a dream he couldn’t remember, and wanted to make himself some hot chocolate. However, by the time he made it downstairs, his brain was already filled with fog, and it was all he could do to make it to the sofa before he was fully gone.
Shouto blinked a few more times, and shook his head lightly to clear the mist fully away. He finally fully realized that someone else was down here with him. Someone who had known that giving him a warm mug of tea would help him more than simply talking would, and someone who clearly hadn’t left yet, if the noises in the kitchen were anything to go off of. But before Shout could identify the unknown classmate any more than that, they walked into his line of sight, solving the mystery for him.
Bakugou’s hair was disheveled, and the boy had faint bags under his eyes, an undercurrent of tension in his shoulders. Shouto had never seen his classmate look this rough, excluding that one terrifying day, months ago, that no one talked about. Bakugou realized pretty quickly that Shouto was actually aware, and instantly his walls were sky high again.
“Fucking finally, you’re awake. I’m going back to bed. I made too much fucking food, and I guess you can have some so it doesn’t go to waste. Just make sure you clean up after yourself, half-and-half. Got it?” Bakugou didn’t wait for Shouto to respond before stomping over to the stairs and back to his room.
Shouto felt a bit like he had just been struck by the outer edges of a hurricane, but decided he had more pressing things to worry about right now. Namely, he wanted to know what food Bakugou had left for him.
He stood up stiffly, still holding tightly to the mug, and shuffled over to the table where he found a bowl of cold soba waiting for him. Shouto was pretty sure he remembered Bakugou yelling at his friends the other day about how much he hated cold soba, so he wondered why the blond would make this dish when he doesn’t even like it. He didn’t think too hard about it, though, and sat down to enjoy the meal, wondering about how lucky he was that Bakugou chose tonight of all nights to make a midnight snack of Shouto’s favorite dish.
It didn’t take long for Shouto to eat the whole dish, and he made a mental note to ask Bakugou to make cold soba more often. It was the best bowl of cold soba he had eaten since he was a kid, almost as good as his mom's family recipe.
After drinking a bit more of the tea, and then cleaning up all the dishes, Shouto felt much more settled, and decided to go back up to his room and try to get some more sleep. He got the feeling he would sleep a lot better now, with the taste of cold soba in his mouth and the warmth of the mug still soaked into his hands.
In the morning, Shouto made his way down the stairs before class. He was up a bit earlier than normal, but wanted to make sure he caught Bakugou before his morning run.
Thankfully, he got downstairs just in time to see Bakugou about to leave the door. Shouto called out to him, and the angry teen turned to look at him, instantly on edge. “What the fuck do you want, Peppermint Bitch?” He bristled defensively, gripping the doorknob tightly.
“I just wanted to thank you for last night, Bakugou,” Shouto said evenly, “for making me tea and cold soba. You are a good friend.”
Bakugou’s shoulders rose up almost to his ears and he flushed a bright pink. “I didn’t do it for you, Icyhot, I just accidentally made too much for myself. And I’m not your fucking friend!” And with that, he ran out the door, slamming it behind him.
Shouto smiled slightly and looked over to the kitchen, where only Shinsou stood, holding a mug of coffee with an amused expression on his face. The tired teen raised an eyebrow toward Shouto and looked over at the door. “What did you do to piss him off this early?”
Shouto merely shook his head, and walked into the kitchen to grab some hot chocolate mix. “I simply told him what a great friend he is. I think he’s shy.”
For some reason Shouto couldn’t understand, Shinsou laughed at this. Shouto just continued smiling, and made his hot chocolate. Yes, he and Bakugou truly were the best of friends.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Normally, hero training was Katsuki’s favorite class of the day. But then again, normally Katsuki wasn’t forced to play a fucking damsel in distress for the whole afternoon.
For some reason, All Might had decided they should be split up into three groups today. Heroes, villains, and hostages. And, lo and behold, Katsuki had been chosen to be one of the hostages. All Might insisted the assignments were random, but there was no way the angry teen was going to believe him.
So now Katsuki was stuck with the fucking purple haired insomniac playing the villain, waiting for Earphones of all people to come “save” him. Tch, as if he needs saving. He would have escaped from Mindfuck ages ago if it weren’t for the handcuffs he was stuck in.
Oh, yeah, the handcuffs. All Might had decided that for it to be more “realistic”, the hostages had to be cuffed the entire time. Katsuki only found it a little ironic that the cuffs he was in were the same ones the school used on him during the sports festival.
“You know, Mindfuck, I don’t even need to wait for Earphones to come and get me, right? I’ll escape all on my own.” Katsuki sneered at Shinsou, baring his teeth.
Shinsou simply raised one eyebrow and smirked at Katsuki, which set the blonde’s blood boiling. “And how are you gonna do that when you can’t even use your hands?”
Katsuki glared at him, and set to trying to break out of the stupid cuffs. They wrapped fully around his hands and forearms, and he knew from experience that they were a bitch to get out of.
As he paid more attention to the metal encasing his arms, his chest started to get a bit tighter. The air around him seemed to get thinner, or at least that’s what he told himself when his breaths started coming in quicker and more shallow. Suddenly, Katsuki wasn’t at Ground Beta anymore. He was in a dark and humid bar on the wrong side of town. His breath quickened even more as he jerked against his restraints. The blue haired freak was staring at him like he was a fun toy to be played with, and Katsuki knew if he didn’t get out soon, he would never get out at all.
Katsuki was broken out of his memories when he heard a sharp snapping by his ears, and a muffled voice telling him to breathe. He wanted to retort that he was breathing, fuck you very much, but couldn’t get enough air in his lungs to say it.
Before Kastuki could spiral anymore, though, suddenly the weight around his wrists and forearms was gone, and his chest didn’t feel so tight anymore. He felt someone take his hand and place it on their chest, and started to match his breaths to the slow movement of the chest, and the slower heart rate beneath his fingers.
And finally, finally, Katsuki wasn’t in that bar anymore. He’s just in Ground Beta, sitting on the floor of an abandoned room, with Shinsou sitting across from him with a concerned look on his face.
“S-stop looking at me like that, shithead, you look fucking stupid.” Katsuki managed to get out through gritted teeth. Now that he was back in the present, shame filled his entire being, and he wanted to leave this shitty ass building as soon as possible.
Shinsou seemed to calm down some at hearing Katsuki talk, but he didn’t change his expression. “...They shouldn’t have put you in these cuffs. All Might knows what you went through.”
Katsuki’s hackles raised, and he glared at Shinsou. “I’m not fucking weak! I can handle some stupid ass handcuffs!” As if to prove it to the other teen, the blond started reaching for the cuffs again.
“Stop that,” Shinsou pulled the cuffs out of Katsuki’s reach, “you aren’t weak. And it isn’t weak to speak up when you need help. You were fucking kidnapped. That’s fucked up, and All Might should know better than to put you in any situation like that again.”
Katsuki grumbled beneath his breath, but couldn’t seem to find the words to argue with Shinsou right now.
Shinsou sighed, and looked like he was debating even saying anything, but finally opened his mouth again. “Look, you don’t have to talk to anyone about it, but if you want to, I have two working ears, and more brain cells than most of this class combined. And if you aren’t comfortable with talking to me about this, I know for a fact that you have other friends who would love to listen to you, too. It isn’t healthy to keep things bottled up like this, though.”
Katsuki bit back his knee jerk reaction to cuss Shinsou out, and looked down at his shaking hands. “...None of them understand how it feels to have been weak enough to be kidnapped before. And, as much as I fucking hate them, I wouldn’t want any of them to be able to understand. They’re all such pansies, they would have been scared out of their minds if it had happened to them.”
“We don’t have to understand it in order to listen, Bakugou.”
Katsuki just went quiet at that, seeming to want to just move on from this whole situation. Shinsou let him drop the topic, and they sat in silence until Jirou showed up to “save” Katsuki.
The next morning, before anyone else was awake, Hitoshi was sitting in the kitchen with his cup of coffee when Bakugou walked up to him.
“Hey Mindfuck,” Bakugou grumbled, looking everywhere but at Hitoshi, “...Thank you. For yesterday. I might take you up on that offer sometime.” He looked as though he was in physical pain when saying it, but seemed to be relieved to get it out.
Bakugou went to leave, but suddenly turned and growled out, “But don’t you dare tell anyone about what happened, got it?”
Shinsou chuckled lowly and nodded, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”