ii.

Summary: Bakugou Mitsuki is mother to a seven-year-old menace, and she worries that things will only get worse before they can get better. Katsuki is used to his mom being angry with him, but he doesn't want to see that look of disappointment on her face ever again.

Fun fact: Children in public elementary school in Japan are not required to wear uniforms.

Before We Begin: I'd like to point out that in this story Bakugou is only seven. He's a young boy, and not quite the person he will become at the beginning of canon- yet. Much of his core personality is there but considering his age I took some of the edge off and gave him a few more age-appropriate motivations while trying to maintain his base structure. This same statement applies to Ochako, so please, lend me your suspension of disbelief. That is all.

Side Note: The workings of Ochako's quirk isn't heavily delved into in canon like it is in fanfiction. For this particular fic I'm going with the HeadCanon that her quirk requires all of her fingers to touch the person/object in order to activate it.

Final Side Note: So the spelling of some of these names varies. In my fic ATPOI I started out with 'Bakugo' but now that I've been writing BNHA for a bit I find myself more partial to the 'Bakugou' spelling as you'll see in this fic. With Ochako I've stuck with the fan spelling- even though her wiki is spelled 'Ochaco'. The former here just bugs me. As per usual i don't own any of the characters nor do i make any money doing this. This fic was not Beta-ed.

Without Further Ado I Present For Your Reading Pleasure:

In the Light of One Lamp

"Parents are the bones on which their children cut their teeth."

"You know I can't Marasu. We've been over this." His mother's voice was distant and muffled through the wood of his bedroom door, but this was probably the first time his parents had spoken so candidly with their own bedroom door open just down the hall.

It was late, and Katsuki figured that had they remembered to close their door like they had every other time a fight struck up he'd be in bed right about now like he was supposed to be. Tomorrow was a school day, the second week of second grade and he was already bored out of his mind. He'd much rather practice his quirk than go over a bunch of lame subjects that posed no challenge. He didn't spend a terrible amount of time considering his future outside of his desire to become a great hero, but his want for a subject that actually challenged him made Katsuki wish he could grow up faster.

Katsuki was bored a lot actually, probably his main motivation for pressing his ear to the crack at the bottom of his door and eavesdropping on his parents. That, and the fact that they were talking about him.

"Couldn't we work something out with your manager? Maybe split time off for when we get called out." His father's words were halting, hesitant in the face of his mothers simmering temper.

There was the sound of his mother's wooden dresser sliding shut and the shuffle of papers as his father reviewed his work from the day. A clicking sound, the ping of a phone being plugged into a charger.

"We have to do something about this, I can't just keep leaving work because Katsuki can't keep his damn hands to himself at school. We're a week in and I've had to leave twice. Twice Marasu."

Katsuki, for the most part, didn't really understand what all the fuss was about.

What he did understand was that he had inconvenienced his mother- he got that much at least. It's just… Deku really pissed him off. It was hard not to want to kick that kid with his stupid whiny face and the way the other kids always egged him on to do it.

It didn't help that using quirks on school grounds was against the rules; and Katsuki was about as good at controlling his quirk as he was at moderating his anger- but he'd rather die than ever admit to anyone that he wasn't always blowing things up on purpose. He was better with his quirk than all of the other kids in class, but that didn't mean he didn't have a learning curve or need practice.

His less than stellar social record had never been a problem before- well, it had actually, but it had never been a problem with Mitsuki's job.

Guess the new boss wasn't as understanding. He scowled into the carpet, cubby child's cheek squished into the floor and creating a comical expression of distaste on his seven year-old features.

"You're going to have to attend the parent-teacher conference on friday… there's no way I'll be able to get the time off after this last week." His mom continued with a weary sigh that turned guilt in his chest. He scowled harder. Irritating.

There was a long pause, something heavy the young boy didn't really grasp going unsaid.

"Have you thought anymore about the promotion I was offered?" His dad broke it, still tentative in his usually gentle demeanor.

There was another long pause, which Katsuki thought was unusual for his mother to let stretch for so long.

"Mie Prefecture is a long way from here... it's so rural." She said finally, and it sounded like an oft-repeated statement although he'd never heard his parents talk about this before. Katsuki blinked, confused by the segue that didn't seem to have anything to do with the ongoing conversation. His mind turned it over a few times, rolling it around curiously. Mie was a ways south of Shizuoka Prefecture where they lived, there wasn't a whole lot out there. A foreboding chill crawled down his spine; he didn't know what this was about but it didn't sound good.

Footsteps sounded softly on the hardwood of the hallway, his father's voice growing louder for only a moment as the familiar squeal of his parents door hinge prompted Katsuki to spring up off the floor and race for his bed covers. He dove beneath them, rolling to face the wall with eyes closed just incase his parents were headed to check on him.

In the end, they didn't. Walking right past his door towards the stairs.

"We'll talk more about this in the morning." Katsuki caught his father's voice as they descended towards the living room.

It would be another long, boring fifteen minutes before Katsuki would actually succumb to sleep.

Katsuki was not allowed to curse. His mother, the hypocrite that she was, couldn't stand it. So he usually made the token effort to be a good son in this; he was in enough trouble on the regular without adding more to his parents plate.

This situation however, seemed to really call for it.

"Fuck." He gave in, frustrated and angry at himself- at Deku the little shit.

Deku sobbed, clutching at his head that was most definitely bleeding. The crowd of children around them whispered, casting the young Katsuki fearful, trepidatious looks. He hadn't meant to blast Deku into the lunchroom table- honest.

Not this time at least.

Katsuki certainly hadn't meant for Deku to cut open his soft, pathetic little head. His quirk hadn't even made that large of an explosion! Really it was Deku's own fault for being a pathetic, quirkless crybaby.

All his reasonings aside, this was bad. Really bad.

His mom was going to kill him.

One of their classmates slunk forward, eyes locked on Deku and purposefully avoiding Katsuki's heavy glower. The girl gathered Deku to her, the other girls gaining confidence with their friend and moving forward to help Izuku find his was the the nurses office.

Even in the midst of the heavy sinking feeling in his gut he still had enough resentment in him to scoff at Deku. Kid couldn't get off the linoleum without the help of a bunch of little girls.

A hand landed on his shoulder, which he realized in that moment was shaking. His hands curled and uncurled at his sides, anxious and slick with explosive sweat that he couldn't seem to stop from dripping off the tips of his fingers.

He hadn't figured out how to regulate the nitroglycerin production yet like his mother could.

It was a problem. One he had never said out loud or bothered to ask for help with. He could figure it out his own damn self thank you very much.

"I think you should come with me, Bakugou-chan." He didn't need to look to see the expression on his home-room teachers face. He'd seen that hesitant, disappointed look more times than he could count at this point.

He gave a jerky nod, no desire to open his fat mouth and make it worse right now.

His mother was going to kill him.

They sat silently in the car, the engine rumbling softly in idle as Mitsuki had yet to let the e-brake go and pull out of the school parking lot. Rain slid softly down the windows, thunder rolling long and deep far in the distance.

The ac blew on a low setting out of the front vents, sluggishly at work defogging the windshield and cutting the humidity in the cabin. Katsuki's seat belt was uncomfortably confining as he waited in the back seat, unable to peel his eyes away from his mother who was resting her forehead on the steering wheel. Her hands were folded in her lap, and this struck him as the strangest part of their silent exchange. Or lack thereof. He almost wished she'd start yelling at him, that would be normal at least.

This entire thing set his teeth on edge; his mother was not a quiet women by nature, the apple didn't fall far from the tree after all. Her silence made the seriousness of what had happened feel all the more real.

Katsuki felt… small. Ashamed, nervous, guilty. A myriad of negative things bouncing around in his chest that made his little heart beat too fast. His hands twisted into the seat belt strapped across his chest, the booster seat under him the only thing keeping it from choking his neck instead.

The silence continued to stretch, intersped with the pitter-patter of lazy rain and the rumbling crack of thunder. Goosebumps prickled along his arms, skin damp from the race to the car and the unforgiving ac still pumping cold air.

Mitsuki moved, head lifting with a weary sigh to show tired red eyes. She reached for the wheel and the e-brake but paused as soon as her thumb rested on the release button.

"Katsuki." She didn't raise her voice, but his name felt flat the way she said it.

Stubborn pride went to war with his regretful shame and he waited too many moments to answer so she forged along ahead without him.

"What do you think it means to be a hero?" She kept her eyes forward, watching one raindrop gather up a trail of others to drag them down the sloping plane of glass.

He didn't hesitate to answer, because he knew this one. He didn't even stop to wonder why she'd ask such a question at a time like this. After what his principle had just told them.

His chest puffed, shoulders stiff when he declared; "To always win!" Katsuki winced at how loud his own voice sounded, cutting through the somber mood in a way even he could see was inappropriate.

His mother didn't even twitch, but her hand tightened on the steering wheel. She thumbed at the break release switch in a restless motion.

"What do you think it means to be a villain?" She asked instead, tone still soft. Thunder rumbled again and Katsuki got the feeling his mom was looking for a certain answer.

What answer she wanted he didn't know, and that frustrated him. Katsuki didn't like not having the right answers. He opened his mouth on reflex because it wasn't like him to not know and the answer he did have didn't sit right, considering.

"You're a smart kid, Katsuki. Sometimes your father and I worry about how smart you are." Her head hit the steering wheel again, eyes fluttering shut. "My mother always told me; 'one day you'll have a child just like you are and then we'll see who's laughing.'" She paused, a low chuckle that was anything but humorous rolling out of her mouth.

Katsuki gripped his seat belt in tight little fists; confused, unsure, unhappy. It had been ages since Mitsuki had brought up Nana. Since her funeral at least.

"Villains are bad people." He said finally, offering the best answer he had.

"What makes people bad?" Her next question followed on the tail end of his answer so quickly he felt his teeth clip together in startlement.

"T-they break the law. They hurt people." His heart beat pounded behind his eyes, a rushing sensation in his ears that was new to him. He didn't like it. He didn't like feeling this way. It made him angry; the insecurity, the confusion.

For the first time since they'd left the principal's office she turned, red eyes just like his flashing in the dim grey light of the overcast evening.

"What makes you a hero Katsuki?" She said it with bite, like an accusation, and he felt his eyes swell with tears without his permission. He wanted to tell her it was because he always won, but Katsuki didn't feel much like a winner right now. His face scrunched, eyes pinched at the corners in an attempt to keep the tears from falling.

She visibly deflated a second later, an apology tumbling from her lips and the little boy marveled at how the concession didn't make his strong mother appear weak like it always did when Deku simpered out his apologies.

"Think about it kid. If villains are the kind of people who hurt others, what does that make you?"

His hands dropped to his lap, clenching together into the fabric of his pants. There was a damp, greasy patch on his seat belt now. The car was starting to smell like accelerant. It made him light headed.

He wanted to have the right answer for his mom, he wanted to tell her the truth, but he knew that the truthful answer wouldn't be the one she wanted.

He glared at his lap. Directionlessly frustrated and angry.

Katsuki would tell anyone who asked, and even those who didn't, that his hero was All-Might. All-Might always won, he was the strongest, the number one hero.

But the truth that he kept cradled close to his young chest was that his mother was his real hero. And as all little boys are wont to do, Katsuki wanted his mother to be proud of him- but it was difficult . Katsuki wasn't like other children. It was frustrating. It wasn't fair. He knew he had an aggressive streak a mile wide, he knew he probably thought a little too much of himself. He knew he was unreasonably hard on Deku.

Honestly. Look where all that had gotten him, he'd never seen his mom look so quietly disappointed before. It hurt. He hadn't meant for things to get so far out of hand.

"I'm sorry." He tried the words, hesitant and honest and he hoped they sounded strong like his mother's apologies always did.

She softened further, lifting her head to gaze at him with eyes that only his parents ever looked at him with.

"Thank you." She acknowledged with breathy surprise, punctuating it with a rueful smile. "Let's do better at your next school, okay?"

He nodded silently, gazing firmly at his lap. His riot of spiky blond hair shadowed his eyes when the tears finally fell.

Katsuki really fucked up this time.

He stood in his driveway, the moving van door rolled open like a monster swallowing up his life.

The box he held was much too big and much too heavy, but Katsuki was a stubborn mule and refused the help when it was offered to him. So here he was, sweating underneath his raincoat hauling boxes back and forth, all his memories stashed away inside flimsy, saturated cardboard.

He hated it.

He hated the stupid rain that hasn't stopped in weeks. He hated stupid, useless Deku who'd shown up at the last minute trailing along behind him with offers to help carry while Katsuki struggled for breath.

"Kacchan just let me-"

"Shut up." He finally snapped. Damn, and he'd lasted at least five minutes this time, but apparently ignoring Deku didn't discourage the boy from being nosy and annoying. Katsuki managed to slide the box onto the bed of the large van, pushing at it to get it far enough off the lip to be considered safe from tipping. His dad would come around behind him and move it to the back with the other stacked boxes later.

Katsuki rounded on the fluffy green haired boy, red eyes narrow as he took in his yellow duck-themed raincoat and matching yellow rain boots. His hair poofed with the humidity, sticking out from under his plastic, duck-billed hood like it was trying to escape. Katsuki thought that if he had been forced to wear such a childish coat he'd be trying to escape too.

Deku looked like an idiot. His mother would probably think it was adorable.

His own blond hair lay flat, tamed by the added weight of rainwater. It dripped off the more stubborn spiky strands to trail chilly water under the neckline of his plain, clear plastic raincoat. His toes ached, socks damp inside his red rain boots. Normal, plain red rain boots without some stupid animal theme.

He scowled, features twisting into the familiar shape like breathing.

"Why are you here Deku. What do you want." It didn't sound remotely like a question, it sounded more like he was spitting honestly.

Deku tilted his head to the side like a lost puppy. Katsuki really hated the dumb look on his face.

"I just- I just want to help Kacchan." He twiddled his thumbs together, staring down at his hands and avoiding Katsuki's glower. "Today is the last day that you'll… and I'm not sure we'll ever get to…" He trailed off, voice losing what little strength it had started off with.

"I don't need your help Deku." He snarled at the smaller boy, offended at the very thought and angry, gods he was so angry . His mother wasn't here right now, she was off puttering around in the house behind him somewhere; packing Katsuki's life away.

But just because his mom wasn't here right now didn't mean he'd forgotten what her disappointment looked like. He could still recall the slope of her back as she hunched into the car steering wheel, the way her shoulders shook with some emotion he didn't understand.

She'd been fired from her job because of him.

"Go the hell away." His foot stomped in emphasis, red rain boot crashing into the puddle beneath him in a miniature tsunami.

Deku reached for him, and Katsuki reared backwards on reflex; red eyes flashing hatred and vehemence at the smaller boy, all gum and too much teeth like a cornered animal. His palms popped loudly without his permission so he shoved curled fists into his pants pockets. It didn't really solve the problem but it made him feel marginally better.

Katsuki didn't want to move away any more than Deku wanted him to move. Why Izuku insisted they were friends even now was beyond him, but he had too much on his plate to shoulder the burden of the other boys feelings right now. Katsuki had enough feelings for a multitude of people, he didn't need to deal with Deku's trash on top of all of his.

The green-haired, duck-bedecked child froze mid gesture, stress lines appearing around his eyes as he let the hand drop.

"Okay." Izuku gave in. Katsuki felt the easy acquiescence surge relief through his veins. If Deku would just go then he wouldn't get any angrier. If he didn't get any angrier then his mother wouldn't be disappointed.

Yeah, okay. Maybe he could do this.

Deku turned towards the sidewalk, and Katsuki turned towards his house.

The two young boys took steps away from each other for what would be many years to come. It was probably for the best. Deku was the only one who glanced over his shoulder.