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The Unknown May Reap

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Beginning Notes:

Ummm!! Hi, if there’s anybody reading this aahaaaah. I’m quite excited to start this lil’ story! And I’m somebody who always likes to get all their thoughts out, so I usually have a ton of notes… you can skip them if you’d like!


First off, my storytelling is garbage, and I know it. But one day when riding on the bus home from school, I got some inspiration, and thought, hey, I might as well start somewhere. So here I am! I’ll keep practicing, and well, I’m sure my creativity will finally make an appearance (I was honestly born with close to no creativity) soon enough,, or something, but it all comes with experience—I think?(hope?) Apologies if this story will be wonky at times, as I said, I’m trying, and it’s my first time writing something that’s even relatively long and needs planning like this one, but I hope people will stick around.


I also don’t have an upload schedule :^) frankly, I’m an,,, average(?) person, which means I’m quite busy, with school and all. I also have to juggle practicing two instruments as well, so, I may not always have all the time I want in the world. I don’t want to estimate when chapters will come out, but I will promise this, one day, this fic will be finished, and my guess is before the end of this summer, at least. I’ll do my best! And if anybody will, please don’t rush me, it scares me.


Please enjoy reading this first chapter :)


“Deku, you better not be fucking crying right now. I thought we agreed on not crying!”


“I-I’m sorry K-Kacchan! I can’t help it, okay? I’m really going to miss you… Plus, I know for a fact that your eyes are also quite misty!”


“Okay, okay, fine! Fucking shut up, stupid nerd, you can bawl your eyes out or whatever.”


Quick as a flash, Midoriya clings onto Bakugou as if the whole world’s weight is bestowed upon him, embracing the blonde with a passion that has the both of them smiling. Midoriya’s tears trail down his pale cheeks, and as he predicted, Bakugou does in fact have waterworks of his own. They’re threatening to spill out from his eyes, and he’s barely holding them back.


Bakugou nuzzles into the mop of green below his chin and plants a quick kiss. Fluffy hair tickles his eyes and his heart swells with adoration, knowing full well that even if he tries to comb down all the curls, it would make no difference.


A whimper of satisfaction and a tinge of longing escapes from Midoriya, and Bakugou drags him back up to his full height so he’s no longer crouching while hugging the blonde.


An emerald forest stares into a cave of rubies before the taller male leans forward for a kiss. Midoriya’s lips are a bit wet thanks to his tears, but Bakugou doesn’t mind and basks in the moment, tilting his head to the side a mere centimeter to deepen the shared interaction. Because they’re in public, it doesn’t last long, but it gives them all the time they need. Underlying words pass between them. Their love, their promises, their dedication; it’s all heard in that quick kiss.


Then, to once again shine a light on what they’re both feeling, the shorter of the two opens his mouth, “Kacchan… I really don’t want to go…” He winces slightly, trying to contain his tears. A small scowl scurries onto his expression. Fidgeting he is, twirling the collar of his hero outfit with discomfort, as if he’s not in his own skin.


The addressed huffs a fond sigh laced with the same desperation his partner has. Crimson irises glimmer, unshed tears welling up and unfortunately gathering.


“I know, I fuckin’ don’t either, but you know it’s for the best. You’re gonna do your fuckin’ best, right, Deku?”


Midoriya nods, gaining back his usual bright smile but not losing the stream of tears running down his face. Bakugou ruffles his bushy locks playfully, grin on full display. Suddenly, as if to ruin the moment, a woman on the announcements speaks up, “Flight headed to Jersey City in New Jersey, USA, is now preparing for take off. If you are boarding that flight, please head over shortly.”


“Oh…” Midoriya mumbles disappointingly before his gaze flicks back to meet the blonde’s. “I—um, well, I’m going to miss you… Kacch—Katsuki.” He figures it’s a better time than any other to call Bakugou by his first name, not wanting to waste any time they might have left. God knows it’ll be a long time before he’ll be able to say that name face-to-face again.


“Tsk…” Bakugou starts with false grudge in his voice. “Yeah, I’ll miss you too, fucking Izuku. Don’t you be gettin’ hurt now, y’hear?!?”


“Of course! I’ll be extra careful. I mean, I’ll have a lot of people around me too! I um…” All Might’s successor stops to twiddle his fingers frantically before he pushes onwards, “I love you!”


The other man rolls his eyes. “Even after five years of dating, you’re still a shitty scaredy-cat at this stuff. You know I love you too, but you’re grating on my nerves—get a move on or you’ll miss the flight!” Bakugou barks.


Midoriya isn’t fazed by this and casually smiles, knowing that the pro-hero known as Ground Zero is simply trying to cover up any signs of being soft, though it usually shines through anyways. Slowly tearing his eyes away from the other, Midoriya skips off.  


On his way over to his flight, a few people finally start to recognize him and, to Bakugou’s dismay, even try to stop him for autographs. The explosive male is ready to jump into the fray and chase away the eager individuals, when he stops himself from budging, seeing the sight in front of him.


It seems that Midoriya has everything under control. The greenette who’s usually upbeat and willing to talk to his fans doesn’t even spare them a glance, instead facing forward, eyes on his destination. The only time he breaks eye contact is to give his boyfriend one last glance, followed by a goodbye wave as he heads on the trail towards his plane.


When he can no longer see that freckled face, Bakugou lets his shoulders slump as a single tear trips down his skin. That damn Deku… making him feel so much undeniable love and mushy shit.


Turning around—thankful to see there aren’t any lingering gazes trained on him—he begins his trek back to his vehicle, lonesome and feeling slightly drained despite it only being 11AM. Ever since they’ve become pro-heroes, this is the first time that one of them has to leave on a trip overseas. Bakugou understands the calls for Midoriya. After all, it’s not everyday that your boyfriend is requested by the US government to head over. Apparently there’s been a sudden rise in villains, and they requested for certain heroes to aid the situation, one of those heroes being Midoriya. It’s quite an honour, really.


Yet here the blonde is, making his way out of the airport in a sulking manner; head down, lips twisted in a familiar scowl, explosions barely being held back. In addition to this, he’s ignoring anybody who has accidently bumped into him—which is proving to be a great challenge in itself. He damn well knows that if he were younger he’d probably be combusting at that tiny touch alone.


Except, Bakugou isn’t 16 anymore. Nor is he 17 or even 18. Currently Standing at the age of 22, he can proudly say that he’s matured into a—more or less—decent adult. This especially concerns his relationship with Midoriya.


If somebody were to tell him that he would grow so attached to the freckled boy during his years in middle-school, Bakugou would’ve set off an explosion and ranted about how absolutely dumb that was and to eat shit. If he’d been told that at the start of his first-year at UA, he’d kindly tell that person to fuck off and walk away without another word.


But if somebody told him that after the incident that took place after their Provincial License Exams, he’d be left stunned and might’ve even believed it—if just a bit.


That fight at Ground Beta changed the course of their peculiar relationship just like how a tsunami would hit a grand city. Bakugou even thinks that it may have always lead up to that point eventually, considering everything. Starting at their first major squabble a few days after entering UA, and then leading to their exam against All Might, they slowly began to recognize each other’s feelings, desires, fiery emotions, pride, and heartbreaks. Being able to finally scream it at the other at Ground Beta lifted a huge weight off both their shoulders. Though it may not have been the best way to work things out, Bakugou wouldn’t have it any other way.


His own feelings may have been a mixture of pride thrown at him during his young years,  along with the fear of Midoriya surpassing him—something he couldn’t quite digest back then. It was coupled with a drop of self-hatred as well; self hatred for not being able to grow stronger in a limited amount of time, for being weak despite all the things he could’ve accomplished and done. Thankfully, after All Might comforted him, that thought gradually left his mind.


For the rest of his life, the pro-hero knows he’ll carry all the pain he’s shot at Midoriya. He’ll willingly carry it—it’s what he deserves. Blinded by his own emotions, blinded by misunderstandings caused by nobody but himself, it’s only fair. There is no reason why the other male should be in the wrong, and Bakugou wishes he’d seen that sooner. Or at least before he could’ve commanded Midoriya to jump off their former school’s roof.


Even if his boyfriend would always run up to him and assure him he was forgiven—trust him, he knows he is—he would spend all his life remembering what he did and making sure to give Midoriya all the love and care he can. Bakugou worked hard to edge himself away from his past attitude, and with the help from those around him, Midoriya and him were able to surpass what they’ve previously built and make up for lost time. They continue to trudge forward, hand-in-hand.


Heading past the airport’s glass-rimmed doors, Bakugou walks straight to his black car and climbs inside. The rest of the day is mostly uneventful, except for the dreaded “Lunch date” at some cafe. A certain pair of obnoxious heroes had urged him to go with them after dropping Midoriya off.


Kirishima and Ashido begged the explosive man, and he would jump into a lake of piranhas and be burned alive before he willingly said yes to those scheming idiots. He had told them exactly that, but their goal didn’t waver the slightest. It still hasn’t wavered.


On a normal day, Bakugou would be heading right back to his comfy abode. Scheming idiots they are, and the man has a steaming suspicion that they invited him on this specific day because they knew he’d end up coming.


Feeling hollow and admittedly desolate after Midoriya’s departure, the pro-hero couldn’t bury the want for company at the moment. Seriously… how is he going to survive two months without feeling that green-haired nerd on his skin?!?


Grabbing the steering-wheel with a grumble, Bakugou starts the engine and skitters off, farther and farther away from his beloved…


God, I need to stop thinking like this, he coaches inwardly.


A good fifteen minutes later and the sandy-haired man finds himself looking at a humble-looking cafe. The building’s exterior is made out of red bricks and the sign is equipped with old-fashioned light-up words. He briefly thinks that if the freckled man were here, he’d chirp about how the colour of the cafe kind of reflects Bakugou’s own eyes.


He bitterly extinguishes that thought in seconds, and moves his attention to the name of the cafe. Reading the illuminated words, he mutters under his breath, “Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, Coffee.” On both sides of this extravagant title are two coffees, also lit up.


Just what exactly are these two, stupid, dumb, presumptuous idiots up to, coming to a cheesy place like this? He braces himself for the worse, and heads in.


On entering, Bakugou is greeted with two things: the recognizable smell of coffee beans, and the also recognizable voice of that damn Shitty-Hair. A tick is already forming near his forehead.


“Baku-bro!! Over here, man! We just knew you’d make it!” Kirishima sing-songs, throwing his hands up in the air and maneuvering them wildly.


Stomping over, the explosion user seethes. “Shut it, you fucking extra! You don’t have to fucking rub it in, damn it!”


“Aw, is somebody having a bad day? It’s okay! Your real best friend, Ashido Mina, is here for you!”


This earns a groan from the fiery male as he takes a seat on the opposite end of the table from the duo, pouting all the while.  


“C’mon, don’t be like that, man. You’re finally here, cheer up will you? Don’t be so unmanly!”


“Shut it, tomato-paste.”


“Oh! That’s a new one!” Kirishima perks right back up, retaliating with a big smile on his face. All Bakugou does is continue brewing his anger until he leaves momentarily to order a cup of coffee. Black with a hint of sugar is how he likes it, and it cheers him up a tiny bit—until he returns to the table and spots his friend’s mischievous smiles.


“What now?” Knowing them, they’re definitely going to start spewing some sort of nonsense to get under his skin. After years of training and interacting together in UA, this is a given. Bakugou is already mourning his death, knowing there’s no escape from their clutches.


Ashido speaks up, “Okay so, recently, Denki actually solved this big case, and he can’t seem to shut up about it! Like, can you believe it? This braindead hero actually did something! Oh, oh! And then there’s also this place I went to with Tooru-chan! It’s…”


After a few sentences, he tunes out Ashido’s words, sipping on his coffee as his eyes bore into the white, marble table. He doesn’t always do this. Bakugou likes to think he’s not always an asshole 24/7, but his heart betrays him as his thoughts begin to wander, drifting off to the person who’s been a constant on his mind since the ass-crack of dawn.


“Kacchan! This tea is really good, you liar! I knew cold tea would fit my tastes better. It’s like a smoothie, but less sugary and more refreshing, y’know?”


“I didn’t ask for an explanation, you damn nerd. Fuckin’ hell.”


As if to taunt the blonde, Midoriya takes a long hard gulp from his tea, pieces of orange pulp floating near the top of the glass cup along with shredded ice-cubes. Perspiration create rivulets that fly down on all sides of the container.


Bakugou watches this display with twitching, unmoving eyes.


That little shit.


Not only is he ignoring Bakugou, he’s looking absolutely stunning while doing it—and the male is sure that Midoriya is aware, but it might just be his own feelings tricking him. For his birthday, the freckled man requested to go to a local teahouse with his boyfriend, and of course, Bakugou would agree. It’s his special day after all. So they headed out to a place that looked cozy enough and wasn’t too pricey either.


The teahouse’s height and width is medium sized, and the colour of the building is a light, ocean blue. It’s got the layout of a cottage, with a big chimney and moss growing all around. A trail leading up to the door is composed of rocks, further giving it an old, medieval feeling.  


When entering, it’s a surprise to see modern, polished wood making up, well, everything. The tables, the flooring, the counters, they’re all made of glistening wood, sleek and smooth. Potted plants litter the teahouse, placed on every table, some even being strung up high. On their own table sits a pink orchid, currently in full bloom.


Admittedly, the place isn’t bad for an outing. The hot chocolate in Bakugou’s hand, which is topped off with chilli-flakes, isn’t half bad. Plus, sipping on it gives him an excuse to watch Midoriya do practically anything. He’s wearing a skin-tight, black dress shirt. Sleeves are rolled up to expose scars along with hardened muscle. Even if it’s just bits of his arm near his hands, hot damn , it still gives off an alluring aura.


Bakugou must have it real hard if Midoriya can woo him just by putting on some black shirt.


But that’s not even the end of it.


Thanks to the shirt, Midoriya’s neck is open for all eyes to see. Whenever he swallows, his neck ripples slightly, and the explosive man would never have thought that could look so seductive if he had never met the shorter guy. But this is Midoriya Izuku. He can pull off any action and turn it into some sort of suave dance, entrancing all around him with an innocent smile. That includes doing something as simple as drinking tea.


“Wow, I would’ve never pegged Kacchan to be somebody to stare.” Bakugou chokes on his hot chocolate. Midoriya pays this no mind. “Then again, I catch your eyes a lot and all you seem to do is look away… that’s mean Kacchan, but it’s okay, it’s the thought that counts, I think? Anyways, now that I think it over, you might be somebody to stare. Maybe you’re just thinking of how to defeat me in a fight later. You’re always thinking... Or maybe you just think I look nice? I mean… we are dating after all, so it makes sense.”


Bakugou is in so deep, and he knows it. That doesn’t mean it makes the situation any less embarrassing. Even for somebody who’s constantly being ridiculed and who really doesn’t give two shits when it comes down to it, when his love for this green-haired dumbass is pointed out—by said person himself—who wouldn’t be sputtering?


“W-what?!? Oh my god, you’re so fucking… Ugh! Why do I put up with your fucking shit. You didn’t have to start mumbling about it! Damn it, Izuku. You’re lucky it’s your birthday.”


Bakugou’s words don’t lack any real venom to them, and he trusts that Midoriya knows that, having seen his growth up close. It still worries him at times, if he crossed an invisible line that he unknowingly ignored, but his doubts are blasted away in the next few seconds. The greenette flashes a blinding smile that’s sure to make even the stormiest of weathers clear.


“I love you, Kacchan.”


The adressed puffs out a breath. “Yeah, fuckin’ love you too, Deku.”


Kirishima and Ashido noticed the far-away look in Bakugou’s eyes not a minute after the pink-skinned woman had started to talk. They’d expected it and would respect this action of ignoring them. It’s understandable, after all.


Though, they can’t keep their mouth shuts when the pro-hero, Ground Zero, known for being highly intimidating at times and causing a ruckus, begins to smile. It’s not a full-blown, teeth baring smile, but that may have been much less bizarre than what’s happening. It’s just a tiny quirk of the lips, his expression betraying raw affection.


A shiver runs through the redhead and acid user’s spines.


“B-Bakugou? Man, why are you smiling? It’s honestly freaking us out… You’ve got it deep, bro,” Kirishima mutters, chewing on his nails in exaggerated fear.


“Okay but seriously, even if it’s kind of cute to see you care about Midoriya-chan, please stop it! It’s like I’m in a haunted house and I see something unexpected. It’s that kind of weird feeling, and I’m not digging it.” Ashido’s wish is granted when Bakugou snaps out of his daze and shoots them a half-flustered-half-pissed-off gaze, pink enveloping the tips of his ears. The two were simply guessing he was grinning because of something related to Midoriya, and it seems they’ve hit the nail right on the dot. Who else would get his expression looking like that in the first place?


And then the duo has the nerve to smirk at him, recovering from their shock much too fast. It’s a smirk promising even more troubles, and mischief boils in their eyes, practically ready to spill out. He doesn’t think he’ll get away with daydreaming this time.


“So, since at least one of us has their head stuck in Midoriya Izuku wonderland—” Ashido has to stop to duck from Bakugou’s fist, easily evading it. Sadly, it doesn’t even throw her off, and she continues, “what’s he gonna do in the great country of America?”


Kirishima jumps in, excitedly adding on to the conversation, “Yeah! What is he doing there? Is he just ditching you to go sightseeing without your breath on his skin every five seconds? I don’t blame the guy. You can be reeeaaaallllyyyyy clingy when you want to be.”


“What the hell? Where’d you guys get that idea from?!? He’s off doing hero work, assholes. And plus, the US Government specifically requested for him, so if anything, it’s a fucking honour, and no, he’s not doing it to avoid me, geez.”


Kirishima and Ashido sit there with their mouths forming an “O” before an equal amount of pride bursts onto their faces. Non-existent sparkles twinkle around them.


“Woah!!! That’s so manly! Good on him!”


“Yeah, oh my god, I can’t believe Midoriya-chan has come so far! I feel like a proud mom…”


“Tch, yeah right, Raccoon Eyes. Like you’d even become a mom, ever,” Bakugou says, crossing his arms stubbornly, feeling a tad smug after being made fun of earlier.


Ashido panics for a good four seconds before retorting, “Well, m-maybe you won’t even be getting a husband, Katsuki! I bet Midoriya is having an overseas affair.” Kirishima and Bakugou’s eyes widen at that, one because of fear and the other because of an indistinguishable emotion.


A silence stretches out between them, Ashido not quite catching on to the weight of her words until thirty seconds later, black eyes also widening as she mimics the redhead’s look of terror.


Not soon after the woman’s revelation, Kirishima is the first to speak again, “Now, now, Mina, let’s not say that—”


“Calm the fuck down, Shitty-Hair, it’s whatever. Like I’d get pissed off at that. I was fucking joking about the mom thing, okay, Raccoon Eyes? Let’s move on.” Bakugou leans back in his seat, taking a long swig of his coffee as the other two owlishly exchange glances between the three of them, looking like they dodged a bullet.


The explosive blonde trusts that nerd without a doubt. If anything, Midoriya should be the one cautious of Bakugou’s every move, but he isn’t, and that alone is enough to secure Bakugou’s faith in him forever. He’s given him a chance, and he’ll be forever grateful. There’s no reason to question that trust all of a sudden.


Being rivals for years also granted them the chance to see the other’s highs and lows. Seeing the freckled man’s pure emotions in battle, seeing how passionate and how much he’s worked to become who he is, that’s something nobody forgets. Bakugou knows that, because of those emotions, there’s no way in hell Midoriya would ever be caught up in an affair. He’s much too loyal and good for that.    


Snapping out of his stupor, Kirishima starts another conversation, thanking any God up there for how fortunate he is. “Yesterday when I went to the carnival with my folks, I was hanging around the Ferris-wheel, and guess who I saw?” Years of teasing has rendered Bakugou almost immune to the intended effects of teasing, but remembering exactly what happened at that specific carnival that he also went to, he can only think of one reason why Kirishima would bring it up with a voice thick with playfulness.


Before Bakugou could end the topic or slam a fist down the other’s throat, Kirishima opens his mouth and gossips merrily, “Exactly who you think, at the top of the Ferris-wheel, kissing a certain pro-hero with fluffy green hair and freckles.”


Ashido makes a gagging noise. “Geez, you’ve softened Bakugou, but that’s nothing new at this point. You guys are seriously lovesick lovebirds!” she coos.


The fiery male slams his cup of coffee on the table before yelling, “I am not lovesick you damn alien!!” The pink of his ears spread to the base of his neck as he’s unable to conceal any of his distress.


It’s well  known that Bakugou isn’t one for PDA, and really, being on a Ferris-wheel shouldn’t even be considered a public area. Even with that opinion of his, he still isn’t somebody to want to do cheesy things like kiss at the top of a Ferris-wheel either. Yet, he did—because it felt right.


They’d spent the whole day at the carnival: participating in games—and totally destroying any competition—going on wild rides, meeting some fellow fans, and having a delicious lunch. It was a fun day, a good final day before Midoriya’s departure.


By the time they went on the Ferris-wheel, the sun was setting and its rays shone through the glass in their pod. This illuminated Midoriya’s face, making his emerald eyes a wondrous mix of a forest in spring and a forest in autumn, soft green and brilliant orange clashing. To top it off, he was still chattering and reminiscing about the former hours they spent together, and that pushed Bakugou to steal a quick peck from the greenette. Though, it was only that. A quick peck. He swore nobody would be able to see them, even if they bothered to look.


And of course, the person that did see them had to be fucking Shitty-Hair.  


“I don’t know what to say Bakugou, but I’m not saying it’s bad! I just think it’s… interesting, yeah man?” Kirishima supplies, wiping away a few stray tears from laughing. Bakugou simply responds with going back to drinking his coffee, trying his best to cover his embarrassment.


The other two take that as a hint to leave him be for a while, and they start their own idle chat. Bakugou soon slips into a peaceful state of mind and begins to listen to what the troublesome duo are saying, sometimes even jumping in to make comments. Though these idiots could be insufferable at times, they aren’t too bad after you get used to them—and Bakugou’s spent enough time with them for that.


About thirty minutes later, the phone of pro-hero Ground Zero beeps. He turns it on and sees that he’s received a text from none other than Midoriya.


Izuku: hi Kacchan!! i just woke up from a small nap and saw the pretty view!! thought it would be nice to send to you :D


Attached to the photo is a gorgeous view of the sky, the sun shining from the left corner, its rays piercing through a cluster of clouds.


The sandy-haired man snorts fondly before sending a picture of his coffee mug, the contents drained.


Katsuki: About time you sent me a message, nerd. If I don’t get my daily update, I’m going over there myself to kill you.


As expected, Midoriya replies immediately.


Izuku: Kacchan, don’t worry, i’ll make sure to keep you updated!! i wouldn’t forget :)


Katsuki: Good. Also I hope you’ll be punctuating your sentences correctly during hero patrols an’ shit, don’t want the heroes over there thinking you’re unprofessional, right?


In reply to this, Midoriya floods his messages with exclamation marks and stammers until he pulls himself together to construct a sentence of affirmation, saying that he’ll do his best. Bakugou pockets his phone once the greenette informs that he’ll be taking another nap, sending one final picture of the skies.


The explosive male finds himself smiling again. That nerd and all his wonders and charms. Even through a phone, he’s always able to strike a chord within him, something familiar and soothing and comfortable. Something that they’ve been able to construct after trial, error, and time.


He wouldn’t trade this for the world.

Chapter Text

Beginning Notes:

Aaaaaahhhh!!! I wanted to get this out faster, but I just got loaded with some new school work, since I received a new teacher(she’s amazing though!! I learned lots ^^) and my brain has been feeling tired. Mmmm, I also got caught up in looking at edits (oops) and re-watching bnha(again coughs). It’s still pretty, kind of, long, so I hope it is worth the wait? I will do my best to get the next chapter out sooner, and I have been feeling motivated lately,, so, I shall try. Badminton season has started over here though, and I play badminton, so I'll be a little bit busier, but yeah.

I hope I got the times right!! Or else there goes my math grade...


BEEP! BEEP! Bakugou’s alarm screams. He slams his hand atop the device, effectively silencing it. The morning light is bursting through the grey curtains close to his bed, and although he’s usually a morning person, today, the rays are making him aggravated. With a grumble, he pulls the covers off his body and makes a grab for his phone, which is sitting neatly beside the alarm on his nightstand.


Turning it on, he squints as the harsh, white light hits his eyes. Soon enough his vision adjusts and his lips quirk upwards. His first notification is a text from Midoriya, and that alone lifts his mood by a smidgen.


Izuku: good morning Kacchan!!


There’s a message following that one.


Izuku: wait.. it’s morning over there, right? im starting to get sleepy :(


Chuckling, the blonde heads to his closet to retrieve his hero costume. It would be getting pretty late in New Jersey, since the two are 14 hours apart. Bakugou would shortly be scolding the greenette for staying up late, but he couldn’t blame Midoriya either, as Bakugou’s been doing the exact same thing. Their sleep schedule has been quite disorderly as of late.


For the past two weeks after Midoriya left, the couple have kept in touch whenever they can. Sending messages, exchanging stories, and if they weren’t too busy, even answering or initiating calls.


After the blonde has secured the grenade-looking pieces on his wrists and is fully fledged in his hero gear, he responds to Midoriya’s message.


Katsuki: Yes, stupid nerd, it’s the morning. Now go the fuck to sleep, you’re sleepy, aren’t you?


Bakugou shakes his head, muttering under his breath about how dumb it is for Deku to wait up for him. The clock on his nightstand reads 9:50AM, which indicates it’s 11:50PM in New Jersey—practically midnight. Though he can relate to the feelings of longing, he still has to tell Midoriya off, and the greenette always whines. Despite this, even the freckled man knows it’s for the best. Bakugou can’t exactly reject the sentiment of wanting to stay up, awaiting the chance to talk to him—as he feels the same— but a pro-hero needs their sleep. They would have more convenient times to talk, such as in the evenings.


Arranging his bed back to its proper form, Bakugou’s phone continues sending him notifications. Unconsciously, a smirk slips onto his face.


Izuku: what!! Kacchan!! that’s not nice!! you’re being a hypocrite!!


Izuku: but i guess i am too


Izuku: c’mon, you’ll say bye, right??


Izuku: itll be like, 99999999 hours until i can talk to you again


Izuku: :(


Izuku: are you still there?? Kacchan?


The ash-blonde types out a few replies, barely holding back his laughter.


Katsuki: Yes, I’m here. Oh my god, I was gone for probably three fucking minutes. Calm down, Deku.


Katsuki: And yes I’m being a hypocrite and you’re right, you are too. So shut up. We can talk later, you know that. But you need sleep if you want to rescue people and shit.


Izuku: okay Kacchan.. you win. can you say bye though


Bakugou wants to yell at Midoriya for even thinking he won’t give a farewell. Who does he think Bakugou is? Of course he’ll say bye, that goes without saying.


Katsuki: Duh, I’ll say bye, Deku. I love you. Have a good sleep, nerd, and actually fucking sleep.


Izuku: :D i love you too


Izuku: oh, and no promises :)!!


Izuku: bye!!


Katsuki: Bye, Deku.


With a slightly annoyed grunt, Bakugou pockets his phone and heads to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Midoriya probably won’t stay asleep the entire night, but if there’s a chance of coaxing the younger male into it, Bakugou sure as hell will try.


Whipping up pancakes and topping them off with strawberries and a bountiful amount of cinnamon, Bakugou swiftly gulps down his meal before locking the apartment door and jogging to his agency. The organization is fairly new, not being open for more than three months. There are still many things to put together and organize, but with the help of professionals, it’s coming along nicely. Bakugou is proud as he can ever be, a type of pride he didn’t experience growing up, the type that makes one feel sugary and warm inside. Albeit the pro-hero can’t spare a day, with all the things needed to be finished. This includes today, and the first thing on his agenda is to check-in to verify what’s happening. He’d be able to head off on a patrol soon enough.


Opening the doors—they’re simply normal wooden doors, he doesn’t want his agency to be flashy or anything—he heads over to talk to those managing the agency. They exchange specks of information with him and he, in turn, tells them he’ll be leaving for a patrol. Being a new agency and all, there aren’t that many people to check-in with, but Bakugou doesn’t mind. He likes it that way, after all. It’s simple but efficient, and there’s less of a possibility of people to tick him off.


15 minutes later, the blonde is out of the building and turning right, walking down a street. There’s a few cracks in the pavement, displaying its age.


His agency is located near many local shops and small businesses, but not in a place that’s completely bursting with people, either. It’s an area somebody would call “Right stack in the middle.”


Bakugou doesn’t expect there to be any trouble at this time of the day—the time of day when the sun is slowly climbing into the sky and people are opening up shops with bright but wary grins. Villains aren’t necessarily dumb. There are better hours to rob somebody or stir up trouble. Sure, if he were in the bigger parts of the city, there might be a tiny ruckus, but since he’s not headed near those parts, it should be a relatively casual patrol.


He believes this until he’s walking past a flower shop and a bundle of red explodes out of said shop. No, those aren’t roses, blood, or the aftermath of a Quirk.


“Hi Katsuki!!”


It’s Kirishima.


Bakugou slides a gloved hand over his face, dragging it downwards in a slow movement, dreading what this will lead to. The redhead is not even trying to conceal his excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet.


“Yo! How’re ya? I didn’t expect to run into you here, Baku-bro!”


“Shut the fuck up.”


“Ah, you’re doing good, then! Glad to hear it.” Kirishima beams with such intensity it should be labeled “violent,” and that leaves Bakugou wanting to jump into nonexistent lava. Just as the blonde has had years to get used to Kirishima, the other male also had a lot of time to adjust to Bakugou’s pompous personality. He’s always there for the blonde, doing his best to understand him and not getting provoked by everything he does. There’s even instances when he’ll jump in to defend the pro-hero. Though, sometimes when Bakugou acts out of hand, the hardening Quirk user doesn’t back down either, and honestly, that’s something Bakugou can respect. It’s one reason why Kirishima is his best friend.


In the redhead’s hands are two bags, filled to the brim with supplies. Bakugou inclines his head every which way but still isn’t sure what they’re for.


Ever observant, Kirishima notices the other’s gaze and opens his mouth to explain quickly, “You’re wondering what I’m doing at a flower shop, right? Well, since the sun is warm and the birds are… I don’t know, hatching?” he laughs nonchalantly at his slip-up. “I decided it’d be nice to make a garden. I have free time here and there, and working to grow plants is super cool! Tetsutetsu’s doing it too. We’re going to have a ‘Who can plant. the best plants’ contest!!”


“Ain’t that sound fun,” Bakugou says sarcastically, and Kirishima battles back with a hearty chuckle. Now that the blonde knows what Kirishima plans to do, looking at the bag again, he can see all sorts of gardening necessities: a shovel, rake, spade, watering can(it’s got a flower design on it, Bakugou remarks), and a few packets of seeds for vegetables and flowers.


By this point, Bakugou has started to walk again, and it doesn’t take him long to realize Kirishima will be joining him. A mixed feeling settles in his gut, but it’s no longer a mournful one. The two round a corner in silence. Bakugou speaks up, “That’ll be fun, I guess.”


“Sure is!” Kirishima laughs for the millionth time. Seriously, how is this guy always so upbeat? Bakugou questions internally, knowing full well that it’s just naturally who he is. No need to question it.


“Would you want to help out sometime? I mean, I’m sure Midoriya would like something! Think of all the romantic things you could pull off! Like, an organic dinner, or something.”


The explosive male scoffs distastefully, but the small twitch of his lips indicate his restrained laughter. That Kirishima always has some of the wildest—cheesy in this case—and over the top ideas. Yet, somehow, Bakugou doesn’t find them to be obnoxious. When he’s around Kirishima, he’s able to let all his stress loose, watching it evaporate into thin air because of the other’s persona. It’s something he’s come to reluctantly enjoy and be thankful for.


A comfortable silence settles between them, and Bakugou’s accepted that the hardening hero will be staying no matter what—even if he’s not in his costume. Kirishima has always been diligent and hard-working, so costume or not, it doesn’t make a difference. Those crimson eyes of his are constantly evaluating every nook and cranny, darting around disorderly and searching for anything suspicious. There’s also a tenseness in his step, indicating he’s ready to pounce at any moment, ready to attack a villain when needed.


At the same time, Kirishima keeps talking merrily with Bakugou—who is walking in a more nonchalant manner, eyes ahead with hands behind his head. He’s also on guard, but the ash-blonde isn’t too worried about being jumped.


When the two have completed the route and Bakugou’s agency comes back into view, Kirishima takes out his phone and looks at the clock. It’s 12:00PM, right on the dot.


“Katsuki, do you wanna get something to eat?”


“Sure, why not, Shitty-Hair. But you better put all that fucking stuff in the agency. I’m not walking in to some eatery with a tomato-paste carrying a million items!”


“Oh! There’s that nickname again!”


Bakugou escorts Kirishima into his agency and tells him where to leave his stuff. The two then shortly depart to a restaurant close by, one that the redhead so eagerly picked. It’s got another cheesy name, but the smell in there air certainly doesn’t.


Upon entering, the aroma of stir fry hits them both like a truck. Bakugou freezes, surprised that it smells stunningly heavenly, but Kirishima recovers quickly, going over to order. This leaves Bakugou, who walks to the left to find them a table.


Maybe the food won’t be bad, after all, he hopes.


His theory is confirmed when Kirishima returns with two plates of stir fry over rice. Bakugou’s stir fry is quite basic, being a mixture of sliced pork with thinly chopped cayenne peppers all over. It smells thickly of soy sauce. That’s nice, coming from something Kirishima thinks I’d like, he remarks, taking a well-deserved bite.


The redhead’s plate has more than a few ingredients piled in, and somehow the sheen of appeal remains. There’s chicken, broccoli, zucchini, carrots, bell peppers, mushrooms, and a sprinkle of sesame seeds to top it off. If Bakugou leans in close to get a whiff of the dish, he can flawlessly guess the sauce used: teriyaki sauce—a contrast between his mild soy sauce aroma.


While Kirishima happily digs in, the blonde pauses his actions of eating to send Midoriya a picture of his lunch, a routine they developed in the past two weeks. If the nerd isn’t going to be there to eat beside him, he might as well keep him updated. Midoriya does the same thing.


After sending the image, it comes as a surprise when, at the exact second Bakugou pockets his phone, it buzzes.


He grunts.


Really, it shouldn’t even be a surprise anymore.


Kirishima laughs, sharp teeth coming into view and dazzling all the customers around him.


Bakugou’s eye twitches, feeling frazzled as he mutely slides the device back out of his pocket, that familiar name appearing at the top of his notifications.


Izuku: whats this Kacchan???? it looks good


“What am I going to do with this nerd?” Bakugou mumbles, facepalming. That guy seriously needs sleep.


Katsuki: It’s stir fry. Kirishima is treating me.


Katsuki: But the real question is why you’re still awake, you’re supposed to be sleeping you fucking nerd. Get some sleep or people could die.


Izuku: well it sounds bad if you put it like that Kacchan! im just talking to you because i miss you :( can you blame me


Bakugou’s hands clench in annoyance, huffing. Kirishima catches this and deftly moves around the table to sit next to the blonde, most likely to make sure he wouldn’t do anything like blow up the restaurant—and really, that Shitty-Hair should have some more trust in him! He’s a grown adult!


Katsuki: Yes, I can blame you. It’s fucking two in the fucking ass morning, go to sleep, shit head.


Izuku: noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Izuku: thats not fair Kacchan :( at least call me or something please? im awake now anyways


Kirishima leans over to steal a glimpse the blonde’s screen. Swallowing the food in his mouth vigorously, he exclaims, “That’s not a bad idea! Come on, let’s call him, just for a bit! I’ve only got to send him a few texts this week. It’d be nice for a few minutes of talking.”


“Tch, what-the-fuck-ever. I know the nerd won’t be going to sleep anyways.” Plus, Bakugou would never admit it, but he also misses Midoriya. One of his favourite things would be talking with him for hours upon hours, discussing work, new heroes, Quirks, or reminiscing on old events. Just like how Bakugou could let loose around Kirishima, he feels the exact same way with Midoriya. After their “feelings were all out in the open,” as All Might quoted it, he began to let go of the wariness binding him thanks to his thoughts—specifically, the incredulous idea of Midoriya thinking he was better than Bakugou.


This branched off to many other feelings, and one of them is this comforting one, an emotion of calm and understanding. Of course, they would occasionally get into little squabbles, but that is what makes them, them. Always butting heads, always building the other up in the process, always coming to a quick understanding or apology—it’s significant to them alone. They don’t want to change the other, they’re mutually basking in the other’s presence.


Katsuki: Fine, Deku, I’ll call you.


And he slams the call button.


It rings for two seconds before Midoriya picks up and hesitantly mutters a “Hello?”


Bakugou is not as soundless, practically screaming into the microphone, “Why are you so fucking scared, huh, nerd?!?”


“Kacchan! I’m glad you called! Sorry, I was just kind of wary? Nevermind.”


“What the fuck? That’s kind of sketchy, but, okay,” the blonde says and finally takes another bite of his stir fry.


At the sound of the utensils hitting the plastic container, Midoriya jumps back into conversation, “Oh yeah, so you’re eating out with Kirishima? Is he there?” The greenette’s voice is quiet. This is most likely due to it being crazy late over there and the fact that the pro-hero is running on a sleep-ridden brain—no matter how much he denies it, Bakugou knows that this much is true. Even so, Kirishima hears the question loud and clear and squeals. “Hey Midoriya!!”


“Oh!!! Hi Kirishima!!!” he hollers, and a few people from nearby tables eye Bakugou and Kirishima, some in realization to who they are and some in annoyance to the noise.


“Hey, quiet down, Deku, or I will hang up,” Bakugou threatens, throwing a glare right back at those watching them. A waiter who is in the process of walking over stops dead in his tracks, petrified because of those slitted, ruby eyes.


Piping down, Midoriya mumbles incoherently before speaking up, “So, Kirishima, what are your plans for today?”


“Nothing much. I just bought a lot of gardening supplies—that’s how I ran into Bakugou! He was out on patrol and I bumped into him.”


Midoriya gasps, and Bakugou can imagine him clearly; bouncing on his bed, curiosity overriding his senses. “Gardening supplies? I didn’t know you liked to garden, Kirishima!”


“It’s pretty cool, right? Tetsutetsu and I are going to have a contest! Would you like to join in when you get back?”


“That sounds super nice, and I’d love to.”




“Are you two done yet? This is annoying,” Bakugou cuts in, finishing his lunch in those few minutes they spent conversing. How is Kirishima still not finished his food, anyways?


“Kacchan, don’t be rude.”


“Your face surely doesn’t look annoyed,” Kirishima points out without remorse. There’s a tiny instant where Bakugou sputters, but then he spits right back, “Then what does it look like, Shitty-Hair?!?”


“If I were to put it simply, neutral. But that’s an excellent thing in its own, right?”


And that’s perfectly true, Bakugou admits. He isn’t feeling ticked off or anything. Far from it—it’s heartwarming to listen to the two of them talk so amicably, and they weren’t bothering him when he was eating his lunch. It’s a win-win.


But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t interfere after eating. Gardening isn’t something he takes much interest in, and he’d heard enough, and the nerd should be asleep anyways. Kirishima had already talked his ear off during their patrol he so casually invited himself to, and if he talked Midoriya’s ear off, the man would surely not be getting any rest. That’s a lose-lose.


“It doesn’t matter. Deku,” the addressed lets out a tiny eep! “You should get to sleep, shit-nerd. I know we didn’t talk much but I don’t fucking care because it’s been fucking long enough,” he tells him gruffly.


Midoriya groans, but his voice raises to a higher pitch near the end, indicating how tired he is. “Fine,” he stops crisply, then continues, “but only because I know you’d get mad.” This makes the blonde roll his eyes. That’s an obvious excuse, a really lame one at that.


“Oh yes, I believe you, now go to sleep.”


“Okay… Goodnight Kacchan. Bye Kirishima!”


“Bye Midoriya! Have a good sleep, man.”




Kirishima—the shit-bag—nudges Bakugou, making him lose his neutral expression as it contorts to annoyance. With an exaggerated sigh, he reluctantly speaks up, “‘Night, Deku. We can talk later.”


Midoriya’s  voice is overflowing with joy and euphoria, “Yeah, definitely!!! I’ll talk to you then, Kacchan!”


And then the phone call ends.


The rest of the day is spent in Bakugou’s office, scrubbing away at paperwork along with answering a couple minor calls and texts from friends and allies alike. With the sun shining in the sky, its rays reaching the edges of his desk, the male is entrapped in tranquility, and that, in turn, gives him motivation to finish all his duties.


By the time everything is taken care of, the sun is halfway through the horizon, the once golden blaze now a soft orange. Wanting to stretch his muscles, Bakugou heads out on a patrol. The atmosphere remains pacifistic and uneventful until he arrives at a park—greenery making up most of the area—and receives a call from Midoriya. It’s 7PM, indicating that it’s 9AM where Midoriya is, a time that’s suitable for a chat.


Well, he did promise to talk later , after all.


The two fall into their own, steady rhythm, and Bakugou spends a wholesome amount of time recounting things that he’s heard here and there—his day really hadn’t been amusing after his talk with Midoriya hours ago. Midoriya somehow still finds these topics to be worthwhile. Being the chirpy man he is, he would excitedly jump in with comments and his mumbling fiesta would begin. For once, the blonde listens to the other’s thoughts, soothed by the sound of his voice floating into his ears.


Though he has to burst in when Midoriya starts to recount his own stories—this one in particular being… odd.


“And this villain was really cool! Once I caught him I couldn’t help but ask him questions. I don’t think he appreciated it, and the police were looking at me funny, and I felt a bit embarrassed, but I couldn’t stop myself!” he exclaims, out of breath.


“Nice going, nerd. Great impression for the American forces.”


Midoriya squawks. “Kacchan! I couldn’t help it, okay? He had a Quirk like Asui-san’s, so I really, really couldn’t resist.”


“Huh? A Quirk like that Frog Broken Record?”—Midoriya cuts in harshly to scold him for that nickname, but Bakugou ignores him—”Was he some frog too? That doesn’t seem interesting to me.” The explosive man raises an eyebrow in skepticism, even though he knows Midoriya can’t see his expression. God knows how many hours and days the viridian-haired man has spent analyzing his classmates. Why would he have to ask a villain for questions he’d already know the answers of?


“Well, no, actually. But his Quirk is just like one of Asui-san’s abilities. Ummmm… the one where she can spit up what she’d previously swallowed.”


Oh, well that makes a bit more sense, Bakugou thinks, but remains puzzled. Midoriya already knows about those abilities, it doesn’t add up, really, and his previous statement still stands.




“Instead of having an animal Quirk like Asui-san’s, he has one sole Quirk.  It’s where after he eats specific types of fruits, he can spit it back out—like Asui-san. The twist is, it’s now a poisonous substance similar to Ashido-san’s Quirk!”


“You’re saying this guy is just Frog Broken Record and Pinky’s love child? Sounds like a gross Quirk, and child.”


“What? No! Kacchan! No to both of those statements!” Bakugou makes an interrogative noise in response.


“So now you’re telling me this Quirk is, in fact, not gross? The fuck is that supposed to mean? The Frog’s Quirk was already pretty gross, Deku,” he points out, having seen Asui use that certain skill of hers on rare occasions. It isn’t exactly the most… appealing extension of her Quirk.


Midoriya gasps passionately, ready to answer the question. When the explosion of words from the other end of the call transfers over to Bakugou, he’s in the middle of walking past a small pond at the park, lily pads floating mindlessly over the surface. Bakugou was expecting this reaction from Midoriya, and yet, the ash-blonde can’t remove the fondness covering all his features, his expression reflected on the water.


“Well, who cares if it’s gross! It’s still an amazing! It’s a really useful Quirk, since it’s something as simple as eating fruits. Like, when I was chasing him, all he had to do was plop a tiny grape into his mouth and a puddle worth of that toxic substance would squelch out from his mouth! How cool is that? And it’s also really easy to manipulate, since all he has to do is face the area he wants it to go to. Is that weird to say? I don’t think so!”


“Actually, jackass, that is weird to say. Stop complimenting a villain,” Bakugou says half-heartedly, only finding it amusing how Midoriya left so many holes open for teasing.


The freckled man responds with a yelp, quickly denying that statement. Bakugou refutes back with a short one of his own, followed by snickers from both ends.


Their banter continues on for a good 30 minutes, with the blonde continuously strolling around the park. His feet take him past miniscule shrubs, a garden swirling of pink and yellow tulips, another tiny pond—this time with koi swimming in the water—and under a willow tree. The willow’s leaves create great shelter from the sun, and the cool grass mimics soft velvet. Bakugou’s laughter, accompanied by Midoriya’s fainter voice, is casted far around them. Those passing by gift the explosive-man with a warm glance.


Suddenly, during their time talking away under the tree, a deep rumble vibrates through the earth, making Bakugou freeze mid-sentence. Midoriya catches it immediately and whispers a quiet, unsure “Kacchan?”


What was that? is the first thing that comes to the blonde’s mind, brain kicking into gear to investigate.


“I heard—no, I felt it, Deku. Something big just collapsed… or… or fuckin’ something. I’m going over now.”


Midoriya’s voice swiftly takes on a serious tone, “Okay, Kacchan. I’ll stay on the call with you.” That sentence comes out as more of an order, and though Bakugou is somewhat irritated, he understands.

He knows the pro-hero said that, not because he believes Bakugou can’t take care of himself, but because he wants to lend him—or anyone—his aid if he can. Nothing would shake Midoriya to do anything else but try and help. Sure, Bakugou could easily hang up on him, but nobody would benefit from that.

Getting to his feet, the explosive male heads out of the park area through a couple of metal gates. He can’t pinpoint where the tremble came from, but seeing the beginnings of a crowd forming down the street and to his right, he guesses that’s where the accident occured. Racing over and flying over the bystanders taking up the road, he almost lands face first thanks to the horrific sight in front of him.


From what things look to be, a large chunk of a medium-sized building was the reason behind the rumble from earlier. The building is now crashed down on the road. There’s glass, debris, rocks, and boulder-sized lumps of pavement scattered everywhere, blotting the road and restricting any cars from going past the disaster.


“Deku, it’s bad.” Bakugou turns on the camera on his phone, letting Midoriya have a view of what’s happening, and the two of them hold their breath in strained tension. What’s the cause of this? And, when will that cause manifest?


Craning his neck to get a better view of the collapsed building, Bakugou can count himself lucky when he doesn’t see any bodies lying near it.


A sigh flutters past his lips.


The building must’ve been abandoned. That’s a huge relief. None of the civilians would possess any major injuries, removing a few of his worries. He can now move unto the process of capturing whatever or whoever made this mess.


“Everybody who’s standing around, evacuate calmly to the area behind me, near more of the buildings! Help will arrive shortly!” Bakugou hollers to the witnesses. A flurry of movements erupt, but a voice pierces through all the action.


“My daughter! Sh-she… she too-took my daughter!” The way this cry stands out is comparable to capturing a jewel in the rough, but it doesn’t give off the same, exhilarating feeling of finding one.


Bakugou frowns, doing his best to locate where the plead came from, and finds a woman sobbing near the fallen building. She’s on her knees, clothes muddied. Her head is tilted towards the sky, the sun illuminating her visage and making the tears ever more evident.


Midoriya gasps.


“What, you see something, Deku?” Bakugou inquires. He’s been moving his phone around wildly, so if Midoriya saw something he missed through his vision from the camera, he’d be able to point it out.


“Uh, yeah. Look up... at where the woman’s head is faced towards! I don’t think that’s a bird… that looks like a human,” he tells the blonde.


Tracking the female’s line of sight, ruby eyes widen in realization, and he slips his phone to a spot on the left of his chest, still enabling Midoriya to follow along with what’s happening. The greenette is currently on patrol, and though Bakugou should tell him to get back to it, there are more important things to fuss about.


At the top of the building is a slender woman. Half of her face is covered by long, cedar bangs, and the rest of her hair stretches luxuriously behind her. The strands are almost touching the ground. She’s moving carefully but swiftly, and in her clutches is a crying, female child: young, petite, and terrified.


Explosions crackle in Bakugou’s hands momentarily, and then he’s soaring through the air towards the villain. Coming closer, he receives a clear view of her expression. She looks nervous.




One final explosion lands him in front of the villain, successfully blocking her path.


“I’d tell you to stop, but I know you won’t. Get ready if you don’t want to die!” He declares, getting into a battle stance with his hands displayed in front of him.


“Kacchan… you really shouldn’t be getting her riled up! It’ll just make things more difficult!” Midoriya lectures. Bakugou growls in return, knowing perfectly well that Midoriya is presently pouting irritatingly.


“Shut up!” He makes a beeline towards the villain, whose eyes are still—obnoxiously—hidden thanks to her hair. With an outstretched arm, Bakugou’s hands alight like fireworks, aiming at the villain’s head and away from the young girl.


To his dismay, at the exact second flares come to life, the villain zooms upwards and away from her pursuer. The blonde glimpses springs on the soles of her sneakers.


That’s annoying.


He’s not given a chance to dwell on the woman’s evasion as she scurries away and hops to the next building. The child’s wails fuel Bakugou, and he recovers from his shock rapidly. Following in the villain’s footsteps, he hurls himself after her.


A game of cat and mouse ensues, and it gets old fast. Soon, Bakugou has an itching feel of wanting to yell and scream, but that would surely frighten the child. Instead, he frowns, chewing on the inside of his mouth. Having Midoriya start babbling during the chase is not helping. Even with the sound of Bakugou’s shoes smacking against the cement of the buildings and the cries of the girl, Midoriya’s voice is crystal clear.


“Springs?!? If Hatsume-san were here, she’d be vibrating with fury! Even I can see that it’s a bad choice. The better choice would have been to use a hover-like support item, or even a jetpack! Or at least something with more secure springs than just, simple springs that are screwed on to tacky shoes. Springs wear out quickly, so… maybe that’ll work to our advantage?”


Bakugou doesn’t waste any of his breath to reply, blasting off to the next building.  


This part of the pursuit doesn’t last long though, and as Midoriya predicted, the springs wear out promptly. Soon, they’re not giving the villain as much momentum as they formerly were, and the explosive male easily catches up. When they arrive back on a roof, he takes that chance and dives towards the villain, aiming for the back of her head. He’s placed himself at an angle where he’ll be able to reach in and grab the girl if the need arises. Everything is in the right place. Bakugou fires off an explosion with a triumphant smirk, but his eyes betray speckles of wariness. A  wall of smoke surrounds the three (four) of them.


When the smog clears, the pro-hero finds himself stumbling backwards and crashing into the ground. He isn’t even aware that he was punched until he’s coughing, head bent with eyes staring into the cement.


“Kacchan! Are you okay?!?” Midoriya says, alarmed.


“I-I think so,” he coughs. “Yeah, everything’s fuckin’ fine. What the shit happened,” Bakugou throws back. He picks himself off the ground with a swing of his arms and gazes at the villain, who’s completely unharmed. The blonde is left confused.


That’s not right: he felt the explosion hit, felt the impact it created. That villain should be passed out on the ground at this very moment, not eyeing him with that Cheshire-like grin of hers.


“What the fuck?” he mutters, before the villain is scuttling out of his sight, starting this god-forbidden marathon again. Only then, with her back turned, do the two heroes recognize the shine in her hair. It’s disappearing but it was no measly trick of the light. It reminds Bakugou of…


A click echoes through  Bakugou’s head, remembering the way Kirishima’s skin would develop a glow to it whenever he hardened.


Is that her Quirk? If so, I’ve had a lot of practice with Shitty-hair, and if it only applies to her hair, it should be a piece of cake, Bakugou thinks eagerly.


His theory is shot down in the next instant.


The feeling of flying through the air is finally becoming familiar, but this time around, Bakugou can’t think carelessly about where he’s going. One moment he’s staring straight ahead with nothing but the villain in sight, and in the next he has to propel himself backwards to avoid being pierced by what looks to be sharp... stones? He can’t really tell, nor does he wish to find out.


Well, the villain can’t have that many fucking pebbles on her, can she?


Wrong, again.


Another flurry of stones find their path towards Bakugou, and blasts himself out of their way accordingly, grumbling under his breath. This game of cat and mouse has become even more annoying. It’s as if the mouse has decided to start using its tiny tail, somehow swatting and messing up the cat while sneering.


“How many fucking stones can you have?!? Especially when you’re still carrying a fucking child with you! What the fuck?!?”


Midoriya deftly interjects, his tone firm with a dangerous lilt to it, “That’s not it, Kacchan. Those aren’t stones.”




“I was able to get a clear view the second time those ‘rocks’ were flung at you. It’s actually her Quirk. Look, really quickly, right now—her hair is way shorter than it was before, right? Oh! Look! It’s even growing back out again!”


And so Bakugou looks.


His ruby irises dilate as they concentrate on the figure, who’s hair is, indeed, growing at breakneck speed. They land back on the building which makes it easier to witness this phenomenon. In the time it takes Bakugou to blink three times, her hair has grown from a shoulder-length to its original length, grazing the ground.


“Okay, what else do I need to know, Deku? How does her hair getting short and regrowing relate to whatever the fuck these are,” he says, dodging the—well, he supposes they aren’t rocks—materials hurled at him.


“I think it has something to do with her hair hardening like a shield from before, but when her hair becomes short it’s like it was just cut off. The hair that comes off are what those ‘rocks’ are, and they are probably as sharp as knives. I wouldn’t test it out though,” Midoriya informs, voice slightly muffled. Bakugou guesses it’s because his hand is over his mouth, creating the typical “Midoriya Izuku thinking stance.”


“That’s good to know. So it’s from her hair, fuckin’ fantastic. Do we know if she has any disadvantages yet, or no?”


“No. I haven’t seen anything yet, except the fact that her hair has to grow back.”




Knowing this information, it makes it a bit easier to evade his attacker. All Bakugou has to do is wait for the time her hair finishes its re-growth, and anticipate the moment it’ll be flung at him; plus, when he’s on solid ground, the job is 10 times easier. The only setback is that avoiding the hardened pieces of hair do take up time and speed, which leaves the duo at where they began. This cycle repeats for an ungodly amount of time.


A growl slips past Bakugou’s lips. He does not want to play this damn game of cat and mouse any longer.




“This is so fucking dumb! I’ve already tried a few times to get in closer, but all she does is whirl around and I have to fall back, or I’ll hit the child. And you’ve seen me try different angles, like going above, but if I hit her from there then the child is going to fucking pummel into the ground and die.


“Yeah, it is troublesome. But, what if we try to get in front of the villain instead—somehow? Or, maybe, retrieving the girl would help? I’m not sure...” He can tell by Midoriya’s unsure tone that the greenette is merely throwing in random ideas, trying to grasp onto his vast knowledge and recall the hours he’s spent analyzing. But with those two ideas out in the open, a light bulb metaphorically blinks to life above Bakugou’s head.


“Deku, shut the fuck up.”




“I said, shut the fuck up.”


The other man goes silent, and the sounds of Bakugou’s shoes slapping against the ground reach his ears just as before. The blonde clears his throat.


“I said that because you seriously need to trust yourself more, nerd.”


“Wow… thanks, Kacchan,” Midoriya deadpans sarcastically. Soon after, he starts talking again,“But, what do you mean by that?”


“I’m saying that it’s not an awful idea, shit-stain! If I can get in front, I have more areas to attack her with, and I won’t have to worry about that fucking hair or those stupid rock things. Plus—”


“—You’ll also have a clear opening and would be able to grab the girl while you’re at it!” Midoriya finishes. He’s back to being his enthusiastic self, pumped and ready. Glee dances on his tongue, and laughter bubbles out from his mouth.


Bakugou smirks. “That’s right.”


“Oh! Oh! And, once you appear from the other side of the building, she’ll probably panic and use her Quirk right away, so all you’ll have to do is dodge that and you’re set! It’s a win-win, Katsuki.”


“Fuckin’ right, Izuku.” Bakugou responds, locking that tidbit of information into his memory.


With Midoriya still content as if he’d gone to space, Bakugou focuses on executing the plan. He’d have to be sneaky about it, and he can’t be seen. If the villain realizes that he’s not following her anymore, then the whole arrangement will go to hell. The best way to trick the villain into thinking he’s still behind her is to make sure she can hear the sounds of his explosions. He’ll have to blast extra hard—arguably not difficult to do, but the blonde just hopes his hands can keep up. They’re beginning to throb due to overexertion—with how long this chase has been dragging on for—but that’s what being a hero does, pushing themselves to the limits. Plus ultra, as UA said it.


He jumps into the air and follows the plan, chuckling at how something so simple would turn out to be the most effective—seriously, the two of them were thinking of the situation in a much too literal manner.


Wrenching himself to the left, he begins firing explosions at even, yet fast, intervals. The shadow of the building shrouds him in darkness. He can’t see the villain, and with him exaggerating the noise of his Quirk, the male sincerely hopes his work pays off.


He reaches the end of the building in roughly eight seconds and rockets himself upwards. There’s a frightening moment when his stomach knots together in fear, picturing the villain awaiting his arrival and standing at the edge of the roof, ready to smack him away. But when he emerges back into sight, she’s still running, unaware. The way her mouth flies open in shock satisfies Bakugou to his core.


Like Midoriya predicted, in her panicked state, the villain fires off the hardened pieces of hair. This time around, Bakugou isn’t fazed and flies into the sky. With a quick explosion, he dives towards the villain, hands outstretched. His hands are shaking slightly, but not enough to make him miss this shot.


Concentrating the combustion in his palm, he carefully increases the light it emits before thrusting his hand into the villain’s face. It’s one of his moves, Stun Grenade .


Even if her hair is blocking her eyes, the light is harsh enough to enter past her pupil and causes an agonizing pain to materialize within her. She stumbles. Her grip on the child loosens, and Bakugou swipes her out of the villain’s grasp and into his own. The girl is now protectively huddled against his chest, shaking violently as she tries to register what just happened. Bakugou frowns with hatred burning in his eyes.


Goodnight, he thinks, re-positioning his hand mere meters away from the villain’s face. For the first time since the chase began, Bakugou sees the villain’s eyes, a light, cold grey, mixed with ivy green.




And then a thump as the villain hits the ground.


The explosion isn’t strong enough to kill her, but it should be enough to keep her silent for a few hours. Before long, a helicopter approaches Bakugou, and the police, along with the girl’s mother, file out. They thank the two pro-heroes, in which Midoriya reluctantly accepts the gratitude, saying he really didn’t do anything. (Bakugou says that’s bullshit, since they wouldn’t have been able to follow through if Midoriya never blurted out his ideas.) Midoriya soon hangs up, saying he’ll be continuing his patrol.


Furthermore, Bakugou is able to witness the reunion between the child and her mother. He’s content that the young girl calmed down quickly, at least, breathing steadily.


Before the group returns to the ground below, he’s handed a file with the villain’s name on it.


“Thank you for your hard work, Ground Zero-san. This is a villain we’ve been trying to detain for a few weeks now. We figured you’d like to take a look. Thank you, once again.”


Bakugou skips through all the boring information and locks eyes with the words under “Quirk details.” It reads, “Quirk: Stone Hair: XXX’s hair regrows when her heartbeat gets faster. She can cut off her hair without needing scissors (similar to Quirks with detachable limbs), and send it flying. When it’s no longer attached, the strands become as hard as stones and they may separate into more than one object if desired. XXX can also use her hair as a shield, hardening it. She has to be completely still to pull this off, though.” It seems that their theory came pretty close.


He hands back the file on the way down, and is thankful that he’s allowed to have a moment to breathe. This changes when he steps out of the helicopter after it lands on the road. The blonde is immediately bombarded with the media, and he’s already grunting without shame.


“Ground Zero-san, what are your thoughts on the case?”


“How did you fare?”


“Are you injured, was the villain’s Quirk unmistakably strong?”


“How does it feel to be the hero to capture a villain on the run. One that not even some of your former classmates could catch?”


“Is the child doing alright?”


Microphones are jutted into his face without any remorse, and Bakugou can practically see all the reporters salivating at the chance of any information.


What a bunch of hungry wolves.


Bakugou certainly would yell at them all to fuck off if he could, but part of their hunger stems from having heroes lose their composure. He isn’t going to give them that. Instead, Bakugou merely pushes past all the lights and cameras, loosely walking down the street. He has better things to do, like put ice on his hands, throbbing and numb.


Usually when a celebrity walks away from a crowd without saying a word, it’s a message that they don’t want to be bothered. Usually, reporters stop trying in that instance. Usually, they give up, right then and there.


But there’s always that one person who doesn’t give up, and unfortunately for Bakugou, he has to be caught in the clutches of one of those people.


A woman strides up to him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and the blonde knows there’s no getting out of this one.


“Sir, what are your thoughts on moving up the rankings and becoming the #13 pro-hero? Midoriya Izuku, your boyfriend, is currently in America and owns the spot of #12 pro-hero. We heard he helped with this particular chase. What do you have to say about that, and is there any information you could give us about him? Such as his newest accomplishments or... anything else?” Bakugou clenches his hands, trying to not blow up the woman right then and there. These questions are irritating and dumb. If he were a reporter, he’d at least come up with more interesting topics to ask pro-heroes.


“Look, Miss, ” he seethes, “I don’t know why you people have to bring up hero rankings in every single mission we do. It’s not exactly gratifying to finish a job and be reminded that you’re not the best, and, if you are, you’re still putting pressure on that person. That’s not what I’d call a reward, or a thank you, or anything like that.” He takes a few steps in the direction facing away from the reporter, before pivoting and staring the woman down. “And if you want to know anything about Deku, I’d suggest you take a fucking look at the television instead of hunting down his colleagues for extra information and anything that could make him look bad. His actions are not for your bitchy gossip.” Twirling around, the blonde stalks off, and can faintly hear a groan from behind him.


A few hours later, when he’s getting ready to go to sleep, Midoriya texts him.


Izuku: wow! i cant believe the first thing i see on japanese television is scary mr ground zero talking back to a reporter


Katsuki: Shut the fuck up. She was being annoying as shit.


Izuku: i mean it is her job…


Izuku: but i get it


Izuku: also thanks for sticking up for me Kacchan ;)


Katsuki: Whatever, fucking dumbass. Get back to work, I’m going the fuck to sleep, unlike somebody.


Izuku: ok :( that’s mean Kacchan


Izuku: and we’ll see wholl be asleep :)


Despite the irritation stirring in his gut, Bakugou smiles warmly.

That little shit.

Chapter Text

Bakugou is once again awoken by his obnoxious alarm clock, and he turns it off, blinking blearily as he rubs away sleep. He grumbles pathetically because he knows he’s a morning person, yet the events from the day before have left him tuckered out. Leaping from building to building seemed to lead to no repercussions at first, but as Bakugou swings his legs off the bed to stand up, there’s an obvious numbness appearing. It’s similar to how his hand felt right after the mission, but thankfully, that throbbing has died down.


Well, that is what comes with being a hero. It’s almost like second nature at this point. Risks have to be taken. Like how an athlete will give every breath to improve, straining their muscles to push their body to the limits, a hero will strive for the best as well. Though, admittedly, the stakes are much higher.


Bakugou takes a few minutes to stretch, pumping his body up for the day ahead. He’ll leave for a patrol, do some more paperwork, and leave for another patrol before the sun sets.


Heading to retrieve his gear, he grabs his phone and sifts through his notifications. Strangely enough, Midoriya hasn’t replied to the “Goodbye” he’d sent formerly or spammed him with random sentences. Bakugou sighs affectionately, smiling fondly.


“He finally got himself some fucking sleep, huh? Stupid nerd,” he says, heading to the kitchen to construct a plate of pancakes.


The apartment they live in is exactly what one would associate with the word comfortable. At first, Midoriya wanted an old, dinky apartment; one that was noticeably small and cramped, had two rooms, barely any traces of air conditioner, and an old door with paint peeling at the edges. He’d stated that if they bought this apartment, they wouldn’t have to spend too much money on the rent and could focus on using it for other things—like “pro-hero things,” whatever the fuck that meant.


Bakugou was not satisfied with that reason. Living together was a big deal, at least for the blonde. Moving into a place they’d both call their home, for the first time, was special. He had to make it count, especially for all the memories to come. Living in an apartment with faulty humidity really didn’t align well to make extravagant, over the top memories—which is what Bakugou was intending to do.


Without giving his boyfriend a chance to interject, he went ahead and bought them a comfy, modern apartment. It’s average, and that’s absolutely fine. Even Bakugou knew of how ridiculous prices could get.


Nevertheless, he likes their current apartment. It has dark, polished, wooden floors, the kitchen island is composed of white marble, and along with a bathroom and a wide room (the bedroom), there’s an extra third room in which they now use for a work-space. Plus, a walk-in closet. Midoriya fell in love with that at first sight, scrambling to retrieve his shirts to hang up.


As time went on, the two of them filled up the empty spaces in their apartment. Midoriya brought in a gold-rimmed clock, and he placed it in the kitchen. It’s on the wall that contains an amalgamate of cards Midoriya’d gotten from fans and hung up to appreciate. Bakugou found that messy, and yet his heart fluttered with adoration at the mere fact that Midoriya cared enough to keep those cards. Being as popular as he is, they have to throw some out—much to Midoriya’s sadness—but Bakugou allows him to keep as many as he can. Sure, the cards are still annoying at times, but Bakugou will let his boyfriend swim in the citizens’ love. He knows that Midoriya has been dreaming of this since forever.


There are many other items and furniture clustered around their abode. Separating the kitchen from the living room (since they’re in the same room) is a long, white, square shelf. Midoriya and Bakugou both have books they like to put in the spaces, but for the most part, the shelf holds plants of all sorts. Tiny vegetables, long vines, colourful flowers (Midoriya has taken a liking to lilies), and succulents. On the kitchen counter is a basket of fresh fruits, ready for a grab and go. Bakugou insists that the kitchen must be kept tidy, so Midoriya stores most of the decor in the living room.


Apart from the obvious things—those being a TV, couch, a glass table, and a brown, fluffy rug—there are paintings hung up behind the couch. With three in total, the largest one, and the one in the center, is a black and white drawing of All Might. He’s facing away and the main capture is on his cape, rippling as unseen wind hits it.  There’s a faint smile on his lips. Bakugou had thought it was a bit creepy at first, having a painting of their idol in their house, but he reluctantly allowed the greenette to keep it when All Might didn’t mind. Bakugou still bought other paintings to go along with it, though. It does make it look better.


He thinks that the diverse field of flowers and the simple green of rustling trees enhance the toned-down effects the original painting gives off, creating an admirable clash. It’s aesthetically pleasing—Bakugou will only say that phrase once.


There’s also a rainbow of pillows stacked atop each other, perfect and easy to retrieve. Family pictures rest on a wooden stand near the TV, and an extra lamp stands beside the couch.


When entering into their bedroom, the first thing one will notice are the huge windows, letting light enter. Grey curtains cover them when the two are in need of privacy. And sticking with the glass theme, the alarm clock is on a glass nightstand. There have been many times when Bakugou has to refrain himself from hitting the device too hard, or else the fragile glass will shatter.


Now, the main attraction sits on his throne on their bed. Above their white sheets, reigning upon the cloud kingdom of blankets, is a golden stuffed bear. He’s another tribute to All Might, and Bakugou had bought him specifically for Midoriya, but also partly for himself. Bakugou just wanted to feel a little less like a creep about the All Might painting.


Midoriya treasures the plush and cuddles with him on some nights filled with stress. But for the most part, the bear will be tossed to a corner when they’re sleeping, or when they’re… indulging in their personal nightly activities.


On rare occasions, when it’s dark out, Midoriya will pull out fairy lights and string them around the bedroom or the living room. It adds an extra spark. Midoriya calls it magical, and Bakugou calls it explosively bright. They both like it. It forges an atmosphere of wonder and tranquility, fit for relaxation.


Taking a seat at the wooden table in the kitchen, he dimly remarks how it seems emptier than ever before in their apartment, less bright and much duller. Though, Bakugou quickly shakes those thoughts away, chewing on his pancakes. He soon heads out the door. As usual, the blonde checks in with a few people at his agency before making his escape and going on a patrol. He’s out earlier than the day before. As the sun generates a soft warmth, this small part of Japan awakens, and Bakugou witnesses it all for himself.


A taiyaki shop owner is making red bean paste in front of his store, and the sweet scent hits Bakugou. He was never somebody to fanatically love sweets, but Taiyaki is an exception! He decides that he’ll come back to buy one later. Taiyaki is a childhood favourite, and Midoriya would surely be jealous.


The flower shop that he’d previously encountered Kirishima at looks to be set up, and a worker stays outside to water the many plants. She hums to herself contently, embracing the sun with its radiating rays and flashes Bakugou a petite smile. He nods at her and carries on. Taking the route he always does, Bakugou comes across many other things, such as kids playing with a yellow ball, presumably on their way to school. A cat walks the streets alone, white tail swishing, while further away, there are tiny daisies poking through the cracks in the cement. In every area he’s walked, there’s the familiar sound of music playing from a variety of shops, some weaving together a cacophonous tune while others give birth to a serene melody.


One shop that doesn’t harbour any music is an ice-cream shop, and an elderly man is cleaning the windows. Despite his old age and the wrinkles surrounding those tired eyes, his brown orbs aren’t dull and empty, but bright with light. As Bakugou passes, the elderly man gives him a once-over and smiles. Passion is written in each of his actions.




Bakugou is reminded of Midoriya, with that stupid smile of his, with those freckles creating constellations, and then those vermillion eyes that were always endowed with passion—unrivaled passion that sometimes even served as a threat to Bakugou.


He clenches his fists.


When was the last time he’d seen Midoriya’s unbridled passion? Perhaps not too long, but it certainly feels like months and months. No contests, no spars, no dates. He hasn’t seen Midoriya in action up close for a while now, hasn’t been able to see him sweat as he nimbly avoids attacks, or seen him mumble as he comes up with a strategy, or flush at one of Bakugou’s incredulous statements. There’s a huge difference between hearing it over a TV or phone and being physically there, with the words filtering through his ears clearly like wind.


Is Bakugou lonely? Possibly, but that’s to be expected. Many people feel what he feels, separated from the ones they love. At least he can still talk to Midoriya. Some don’t even have the opportunity.


Is it supposed to hurt this much, though? Bakugou doesn’t know, and he bites his lip when clenching his fists isn’t enough to stop the oncoming  burst of emotions.



As Bakugou sits in his office and signs his signature on a piece of paper, doing paperwork, the clock hits noon and there’s still no reply from Midoriya.


Trudging across the empty, slightly cracked road, Bakugou is close to finishing his evening patrol. Usually, he’d be patrolling near the bigger parts of the city at this time of day, but just for this particular evening, he opted to stick close to the familiarity of the shops near his agency. Not only did the sun warm him, but the attitude of the workers as well.


Chewing on the red-bean taiyaki he’d just bought—he forgot to in the morning, and if he hadn’t remembered all of the hard work he’d put in, he would’ve blown the doors attached to his agency into smithereens because of his irritation—Bakugou checks his phone for any messages, and even if a part of him expected the results, he still hoped for something to appear. Among the sea of notifications Bakugou’s been sent, there isn’t a trace of one of those notifications being sent by Midoriya. He wasn’t worried in the morning, but now that it’s almost 9PM, he knows that the nerd would’ve sent him something by now. He’s definitely wide awake at this point.


Or he’s just really fucking sleepy from losing so much sleep, a voice in the back of Bakugou’s mind choruses, almost like a reminder. Midoriya doesn’t exactly have a schedule, so he’s allowed to wake up whenever he’d prefer.


Bakugou sighs.


It’s barely been a day since Midoriya’s last response, and yet Bakugou’s getting himself worked up like he’s some high-schooler. He keeps telling himself that Midoriya is evidently busy. There’s no way he’d ignore Bakugou if he isn’t, so that has to be the explanation.


Walking past the doors of his agency after a final check-in, Bakugou makes his way home. Surely a warm shower will help clear away these useless thoughts? He’s tossed and turned the conclusion over a million times in his head, and his brain says that it’s the right answer.  Midoriya’s busy: plain and simple. There’s no other possibility—because what else could be keeping Midoriya from responding to him?


Twisting the shower faucet to the side, warm water pours onto the blonde’s skin, and his mind—unluckily—doesn’t stop buzzing, even as he tries to halt his train of thoughts. Chewing on the bottom of his lip, Bakugou feels like kicking a wall in frustration. The more he ponders on what’s going on with his boyfriend, the more stupid he’s making himself feel. His whole monologue of thoughts is stupid! He’s just being an over-obsessed, paranoid freak.


So why is there an ominous feeling in his gut?


He wants to believe nothing is wrong—he truly does. But when going over all the facts, only about ¼ of the information adds up. He’s missing something, that’s what his heart says, but his brain won’t give in. It’s a seemingly eternal battle.


Around 15 minutes later, Bakugou steps out of the shower and is a second away from bashing his skull against the sink. He almost does when he realizes that he’s been mumbling, and his red eyes glint miserably in the mirror, still visible even with all the steam. This whole world is ready to taunt him, huh? First he finds himself experiencing loneliness with Midoriya’s absence—something entirely new and foreign, already causing an inner turmoil—and secondly, now he feels like there’s some problem going on that he can’t quite make out. It’s the long distance, he’s sure.


I probably deserve this anyways.


Bakugou shakes his head. Despite having been a complete asshole—he still is, but Bakugou can tell that he’s not as self absorbed or rude as he used to be—Midoriya constantly tells the fiery man to end those thoughts, pestering until Bakugou gives in. Too kind, that nerd.


Heading to the kitchen to make a cup of hot chocolate, Bakugou settles on the couch to watch TV for a bit. The goal is to not think about anything unnecessary, but as he flips to the News Channel, that plan goes downhill. He sips on his warm drink, eyes twitching. That’s at least the small part of relief in all of this. The hot chocolate hits the spot, sweet and savoury, tumbling down his neck and making him feel slightly more at ease.


The warmth sticks with him as he curls up in the white blankets of their bed. He gives the golden stuffed bear a tempting look, before grumbling and pulling it to his chest, feeling a bit embarrassed. Midoriya’s scent radiates off the bear. It makes Bakugou’s breath catch in his throat, and that small moment got his mind working away.


Only one day.


That’s all that’s needed for Bakugou to transform into a living mess, contemplating without any satisfaction. Turning on the news gave Bakugou more confirmation that, hey, maybe I’m partly justified and not going fucking crazy. Surely, if Midoriya’s got his hands full, it would be thanks to a case that’s reasonably important. And yet, nothing came up on the news, Japanese nor American. There’s no sign of a “Midoriya Izuku” or a “Pro hero Deku” anywhere. Even if it’s not on the News Channel, there would still be somebody who recorded his daily activities on a website. Bakugou checked, and still, nothing.


Of course, he repeatedly tells himself that everything is okay, but how much of that is wishful thinking, and how much of it is logical thinking?


Bakugou buries his face in the bear. “Everything’s fucking alright, you dumbass bitch. It’s only been a day,” he mumbles, though his body doesn’t react in accordance to his attempted reassurance, and his stomach twists while his form stiffens unconsciously.


“One day,” he recites automatically, but those words turn out to be so lifeless and unreal, far away and in the distance.


“Fuckin’ hell,” Bakugou says, staring at his phone as a picture of Iida stares back at him, courtesy of his contact information. Bakugou’s finger hovers over the call button.


Three days have passed since Midoriya’s last response, and Bakugou has not felt rested ever since. It’s well time to face the situation. He’s come to accept that this unsettling feeling is more than him going mental over long distance. Three days of silence on Midoriya’s end, including their private messages and on social media, is enough time for Bakugou to come to a new conclusion that’s more befitting. Something is happening. He just needs a dust’s worth of information so he can 100% confirm.


That’s why he’s about to call Iida, somebody Bakugou doesn’t talk to much unless they’re working on the same mission. They’ve been made temporary partners numerous of times, leading to a comfortable friendship. So, hopefully his former class president won’t be too frazzled by this sudden call.


With a quiet breath, Bakugou presses the button, and his phone rings. It doesn’t take long for Iida to answer.


“Bakugou-kun? What may you be calling me for?” Iida says, voice airy and unsteady. He’s definitely frazzled, Bakugou realizes twitchingly.


“Four Eyes”—Iida releases a noise close to “Geh!” at the nickname, and Bakugou rolls his eyes—”I need to fucking ask a fucking question, and I need you to fucking answer it, fucking okay?” Bakugou inquires fiercely, feeling strange and unfulfilled, knowing he probably came off as a sputtering fool. Which, yes, that’s more than enough instructions, but he’s not used to talking to Iida so fuck off.


“Er—sure, Bakugou-kun,” Iida says, sounding like he wants to say much more.


“Have you heard from the nerd lately, like, three days lately? And I mean from anything and anywhere, doesn’t have to be direct or anything.”


There’s silence on Iida’s end momentarily, and Bakugou predicts that the gears in Iida’s head are turning, trying to remember any details on “Midoriya Izuku” for the past few days. When Iida replies, his response makes Bakugou feel a smidgen of giddiness coupled with that same churning feeling in his stomach.


“I don’t think so, wh—”


“Thanks, Four Eyes. Fuckin’ have a good day, or whatever,” Bakugou says hurriedly, cutting in before Iida can ask any questions, and he ends the call. He doesn’t feel like getting caught up in the other man’s questioning at the moment, plus, the next person he’s calling will presumably end up telling Iida, anyways.


Bakugou tips his head back and lets it fall on the couch of their apartment. On his imaginary checklist, he ticks off the part beside “Confirmation ½.” The whole point of asking Iida if he’s heard from Midoriya is really just more proof that Midoriya’s been unavailable—or if there’s any, more information tied to his disappearance that Bakugou didn’t receive. Sometimes when people are in immediate danger, they’ll send a message to the first person they can. There’s a limited amount of time, after all. There’s a slim chance that happened though, since Bakugou would’ve been contacted if that were to occur. There’s also the possibility of Midoriya actually turning out to be fine. If that’s true, then Bakugou can halt any investigations he’s planning to make. That outcome is the most preferred, but also the most unlikely.


Well, let’s get this shit over with, Bakugou declares inwardly, moving back into a hunched, sitting position.


His phone rings longer than before, but soon enough, Uraraka’s bubbly voice greets him. Or more so, screams in his ear.




“Jesus Christ,” Bakugou huffs. Uraraka and him have talked enough to be considered friends, so he’s almost fully adapted to her antics—not as much as Midoriya or Iida, of course; just enough to feel comfortable to talk to her and cooperate in a variety of situations. They usually schedule sparring dates as well, which are admittedly valuable, as Uraraka has many techniques. It helps him to practice his prediction and quick thinking, and she keeps him on edge—a worthy opponent.


“So, what’s up? Need a friend to go to a cafe with? Want to visit the zoo? Need a lift? Or, oh! Oh! You want to have an epic battle??”


Bakugou ignores her and his voice takes on a serious tone. No time for diddle daddling. He asks her the same question he asked Iida, but it doesn’t take her as long to reply. Uraraka responds almost instantly, as if she’d been anticipating the question. Iida hasn’t already told her about Bakugou’s call, did he?


“No, I haven’t…” she trails off. Bakugou takes this chance to send her his farewell, not needing anything else from her. Except, this time, he’s the one being interrupted.


“There’s something going on, right? I didn’t want to say anything in case I was like, really tired or something, but I thought something was wrong with Izuku when he just, well, stopped talking. That’s why you’re calling me, right? Have you called anyone else?” Uraraka asks, and Bakugou can imagine her big, chestnut eyes filled with unease.


Ah, so it wasn’t Iida that told her, she’s been thinking about this probably as much as he has. It makes sense, Bakugou thinks, that she realized and not Iida. Iida tends to think in a logistic manner, but Uraraka can stretch out her choices, looking at all the possibilities and weighing them. She’s more open minded, put simply. Bakugou’s learned this through their spars as well.


Before Bakugou forms a reply, he can’t help the rise of triumph that resonates within him. It’s most likely due to all the convincing he’s done for the past few days that it’s refreshing to know that somebody else has the same suspicions he does. He’s not the only one. A smirk slips onto his face before he wipes it off, remembering that if his suspicions are confirmed true, well, it’s precisely not a good thing.


“Of course you of all people would fucking figure it out. Look, Round Face, I’m not 100% sure if something’s happening, and really I fucking hope not, but I can’t shake the feeling off. I called Four Eyes earlier, but he didn’t really suspect anything,” he informs.


Uraraka chuckles good naturedly. “Haha, that’s Iida, but I’m sure he’d be going manic if you told him anything,” she pauses. “So, what are you going to do, Bakugou-kun?”


“I’m going to go fucking find him, of course.”


Uraraka groans. She undoubtedly saw this coming.


“You got something to say, huh?!?”


“I just—I know I can’t stop you, and I won’t lie, I’d be doing the same too, but just… be careful, okay? If you’re also gone then that’s even worse.”


Bakugou sneers stubbornly and taps his foot. “When am I ever careful? I have somebody’s ass to kick.”


Bakugou , you know what I’m talking about,” Uraraka says, exasperated.


He sighs, rolling his eyes. This woman with her too soft cheeks and her too bright smile packs a plethora of her own insecurities and concerns within her. If she’s going through what Bakugou is, who is he to make her emotions worse? He should use what snark he has resting on his tongue against whatever is behind this, not Uraraka who’s troubled, who cares about both Midoriya and him.


“Fine, what-the-fuck-ever. S’not like I’m stupidly reckless, anyways.”


Uraraka, seemingly satisfied with that answer, claps her hands together in victory. “Good, good! So this is where we end the call, right? I’m getting a bit tired,” and her voice does sound quite groggy. “Promise me to call me if you need anything, okay? Izuku is just as important to me as he is to you! So update me, and don’t be a stranger, you got that?”


Bakugou feels like a child with all of these demands, and in return, he growls. Uraraka takes this as a “Yes” and soon departs, giggling all the while. Bakugou can’t help the warm feeling of companionship that floods through him, and he slumps on the couch.


His phone then suddenly beeps at a new text, so he begrudgingly slouches forward again, gaining a better look at the words.


Any warmth he possessed scatters in two seconds.


There, on his screen, is a text from an unknown number, the words glinting mischievously at him. Bakugou’s sure that it’s a warning or some sort of taunt, but he’s not entirely sure what this could imply. There are too many possibilities, and all of which aren’t pleasant. That rattles his brain up more than he’d like.


He breathes deeply, swiftly extinguishing any fear that he’d gained, and glares at the two symbols, burning a hole into them. He mutters a “Fuck you,” and tosses his phone to the side. Whatever this is supposed to be, he won’t react to it like they supposedly want him to. They probably want him to go on a rampage or feel disturbed, which he is because Midoriya’s involved, but he’ll try not to pay much mind to it. Ignoring it would be his best choice..


Bakugou stands up to go to bed and leaves his phone glimmering in the dark room. It’s a venomous treasure out in the open, and the simple message glows mockingly.  


From xxx-xxx-xxxx: :)