It's a Long Road to Redemption, Kacchan
Summary: Deku followed Bakugou's advice and took a swan dive off the roof. Five years later they meet again and Izuku has a peculiar quirk that happens to be the hero's greatest weakness. (AU: Villain!Deku, Bakudeku).
Author's Note: Hey, everyone! Yes, I know – another Villain!Deku story… but I just couldn't resist.
There will be a number of deviations from canon, which will be revealed throughout the story. The main difference is Deku never got One for All but he does have a quirk, how and why will be explained.
Chapter 1: Long Time No See
Bakugou stares at the eyes of the villain, unable to believe the sight before him. There he is: the weak, quirkless loser he once took pleasure in tormenting until he drove him off the edge of a building.
The boy he thought long dead now standing inches away from him,
"Kacchan?"
The half-forgotten nickname does something funny to his heart.
He shakes his head frantically, refusing to believe the reality before him. Surely this is another nightmare, his own perverted imagination working overtime, trying to punish him.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Deku's lips stretch into a smirk, the small gesture clashing horribly with the haunted look on his face.
Bakugou bites his lip, still refusing to give into the illusion.
"I have." he mutters in the end, voice sounding foreign to his own ears.
There's a smack on his shoulder and he winces at it but more so at the cold, bony fingers that dig in.
Izuku leans in close and he has to avert his gaze so he doesn't sink into uncharted territory. Fluffy green curls tickle his neck as Deku's hot breath dances over exposed skin.
Katsuki looks away, taking in his surrounding as panic starts to crawl its way into his heart. Where the hell is he?
Slim fingers drum over his chin, as though to catch his attention,
"I'm so glad you're back!" Deku beams and for one short moment it's like they're four again and their entire life lies before them, rich with possibilities like the blue sky on a hot summer morning.
Then the grin is gone, morphing into a smirk that tethers on the side of something dark and wrong.
A small voice in his head, one that sounds oddly like his younger self tells him this isn't the boy he once knew.
"We'll have so much fun, Kacchan."
(Did he ever bother to know him at all?)
xxx
(Past)
At age fourteen Bakugou is nothing short of a natural disaster masquerading as a teenage boy.
There's power at the tips of his fingers and he makes sure the entire world knows it, all in the name of silencing his own demons.
Most people bow before him, cower in the shadow of his supposed greatness and settle for the comfortable position of his followers.
Then there's Deku.
A boy who was his friend once – a lifetime ago. Before they discover quirks and what they really mean, how divided society is because of them. A hero and a civilian – it seems as though the choice is already made for them.
Izuku refuses to learn his new place which according to Katsuki is nowhere. Despite being scrawny, weak and quirkless he still smiles and dreams and hopes and it pisses Bakugou off to no end.
He wants to trample over Izuku's strength and beat the smile off his pale face. Because… if a little loser like him can be so strong without any power behind his hands – who knows what he'll be like if he had one?
"Deku, you quirkless fucking piece of shit!" he screams at the boy one day, his fury exploding at the mere sight of his classmate, "When will you learn you'll never be a hero?"
Years later he doesn't even remember what provoked him, what little spark in those green eyes was the reason for him to ignite. (Did it have something to do with applying to UA?)
"K-kachan," Izuku stammers, holding his palms above his head, as if to defend himself, like a caged animal before its captor, "D-don't say that even without a quirk, I can-"
Everything about the boy infuriates Katsuki and the words leave his mouth on their own accord,
"If you want a quirk so badly, then you should just take a swan dive off the roof, and hope to get one in your next life!"
Time stalls and all he can see is the o-shape Izuku's plump, chapped lips make. He takes a step back, as though badly burnt.
Bakugou feels a sliver of bitterness somewhere deep in his chest but brushes it away, like a tiny speck of dust. Pleasure sprouts like a weed in his heart and he feels something sick and wrong yet delicious at the same time as he takes in the broken look flashing through wide green yes.
The expression on Deku's face remains sealed in his mind and it makes him lick his lips, thinking,
"Good, you finally get it, you're useless. Don't you dare follow my path."
(You might just beat me at it).
He turns on his heel and leaves, slamming the door of the empty classroom behind himself.
There's an odd sense of closure to the small gesture.
xxx
His two loyal followers – never friends as friends stand for equals – dash after him and he can sense their unease trail behind like a bad smell.
"What!?" he snaps, annoyed at the worried looks on their chubby faces.
The school hallway is quiet and still, reeking of sweat and rules. In his memories it seems more like a figment of a dream than a real place – oppressive and suffocating, making him itch to run and never come back. He's about to leave when the two boys dare answer,
"You went too far, man!" one of them shakes his head, eyes round and glazed with fear.
The other nods, "I mean… you are childhood friends after all."
Anger sparks once more in his chest and travels up, "Who the fuck told you I was ever his friend?"
(Years later, as the memory plays on repeat he has to wonder if perhaps Izuku heard those words too and that pushed him another step closer towards the edge).
The silence in the small space between them is deafening as his classmates refuse to meet his gaze. He snickers, feeling equal parts disgust and boredom for those near him.
Small minds, purposeless extras to follow – that's all they are.
"Whatever," he grunts, more to himself, "Not like I fucking care."
And he doesn't. The most horrifying, disgusting part of the story – the one that haunts him the most late at night is how there isn't even a sliver of regret, not an ounce of care in his heart that day.
(That's why he thinks he should be the one among the League Villains, not the other way around.)
xxx
Katsuki forgets about it, sharp words slipping past his mind, meshed in with all the other vitriol he spews at the world.
He goes on with his day, with his life completely unfazed.
Deku is nothing more than a little pebble along the way, one he has kicked far away, until it dropped in the lake and sunk all the way to the bottom.
(Just like whatever emotions the boy once evoked from him).
xxx
Bakugou thinks little of the crowd surrounding their school or the ominous yellow tape tangled around the building. He rolls his eyes at some of his classmates' glossy eyes and red noses, muttering about,
"Stupid fucking cry-babies" under his breath.
It's the principal's voice that finally manages to tear him away from his own thoughts and catch his attention.
"Midoriya Izuku won't be attending anymore," he informs them, tone flat and cold, bearing more finality than Katsuki can fathom at age of fourteen, when everything seems infinite.
"So the fucking nerd chose to quit!" Bakugou snorts while the entire class turns to glare at him, as though he's committed a crime.
It's the first time in his life he feels reprimanded and unwelcomed and to his surprise he finds himself itching to make it go away.
The principal doesn't seem to hear his words, unmoving grey eyes focused on something far away. Suddenly there's a slippery feeling at the back of Katsuki's head, his fingers clammy around his pen.
"I am terribly sorry to tell you, but your classmate Izuku has committed suicide."
Katsuki isn't sure how to describe the effect the words have on him, even years later. It's as though the ceiling has come falling down, his carefully built world shattered to pieces.
He expects rage or sadness or anything really, any emotion to come to the surface and rear its ugly head at him.
None of it happens, he's left numb in the empty classroom, staring at the blank white board before him.
He remembers the weather for some reason –bright and sunny, warm light filtering through the windows and bathing the classroom in a melange of orange hues. He doesn't get up to leave when his classmates do, rather remains there and just stares, waiting for Deku to come back and tell him this isn't his fault after all.
xxx
"Katsuki?"
The name sounds kinder than he deserves and he doesn't have to turn to sense the aura of worry around his mother.
Somehow she looks softer, as though all her sharp edges have been erased.
Mitsuki doesn't utter another word, just takes in his silence, squatting down next to him. He nearly winces at her closeness but steels himself not to. He doesn't meet her eyes.
"The school called," her voice trails away and he can feel a wandering hand above behind his back, "They told me…what happened."
Any other day he'd lash out, throw insult after insult, only to be met with the same. It's how the two of them work after all, just not today.
(Vaguely he has to wonder – what would his mum think of him if she knew? And rather – what would she think of herself to raise a little monster? He can't do it to her, he's ruined enough).
Bakugou doesn't dare look at his mum's face but can sense the hurt she emits, heavily mixed in with concern he hasn't earned.
It's then that another image flashes through his brain: Inko.
Finally he feels something, the previous numbness exploding, morphing into a sharp emotion he has no name for. There's a sob on his lips before he can stop himself.
"Oh, Katsuki!" his mother sounds urgent, like the time she set the kitchen on fire after a recipe gone wrong.
She's frantic and a little helpless, as though Bakugou is burning and she has no idea what to do.
He clasps his hand around his mouth so hard he can taste blood and yet the sobs still make their way past his lips.
"Shshsh," Mitsuki makes a strange sound of comfort, one he hasn't heard since he was a little kid, "I'm so, so sorry, Katsuki."
Two warm arms wrap around him and despite himself he lets the tears ruin her shirt, clinging onto her frame.
"I know you cared about Izuku, even if you never showed it."
The sudden realization downs on him: His parents don't know what he's done.
Neither does Inko. Nor will she.
To them he remains the chubby kid from kindergarten whose confidence was annoying at its worst but never something dangerous, never something that brought pain and destruction to those around.
His mother rubs lazy circles on his back and whispers words that sound clumsy and disconnected but sincere. Something wet trails over his uniform and it's then he realizes she's crying too.
"Mum…I'm sorry,"
It never occurred to him who Izuku was, what space he held in the hearts of those around him.
All Bakugou ever thought about was himself, the nuisance Deku was to him, never once stopping to think how much he mattered to Inko or his own mother. Mitsuki had held Inko's hand when her husband left and now… now she has to do the same, except this time her son is never coming back.
"He's at a better place now," she tells him, anything to soothe, to comfort.
All Katsuki can think is a simple, fatal,
"Because of me,"
xxx
(Present)
Next time Katsuki opens his eyes the red light of the sunset peaks from the small window frame and bathes the room in a palette of impending trouble.
He tries to free his hands but the only effect his attempts produce is his skin rubbing against metal until bloods starts to trickle down his fingers – hot and sticky like guilt.
Patience has never been his virtue and soon enough the anger simmering in his chest boils over,
"Fucking hell!" he screams, trashing in his restraints until he finds himself on the floor with a loud thud that echoes through the room. His face is met by the cold cement and all he can do it bite his tongue and scream profanities at the monotone walls of the cell.
The more rational part of him – the one that sounds an awful lot like his mentor– tells him to stop. He must calm down and think his way out of the situation before it escalates. What he can't do with his fists should be an easy task for his brain to complete.
Katsuki closes his eyes and takes a long breath – like Aizawa taught him – hoping it'll slow down the current of erratic thoughts so he can focus.
Blazing red eyes trail over his surroundings, taking in each detail. He finds nothing to go by, no trace to indicate his location. A plain cell, dull grey walls, no furniture safe for the toilet on the opposite end of the room. It reminds him of a prison, a place no hero should be held at.
At the back of his mind he realizes he's been abducted by the League Villains – again. Really, who does that?
The question that his mind begs to ask but he silences it anyway being: Is he really that suited to be a villain?
Does he even deserve another recue, another sacrifice on behalf of others for someone like him? After all he's done – what's the point of being saved?
"Screw all this," he grunts, forcing his eyes shut as he struggles to deal with the storm of emotions in his chest.
A small chuckle meets his words and he doesn't have to look up to know the man that stands above him. It sends shivers down his spine and suddenly he wishes he never woke up,
"So you still like to swear a lot, huh Kacchan?" Deku grins at him, setting a tray full of food on the floor next to him after unlocking the door a little too clumsily.
He hums quietly, drumming pale, skinny fingers over dirty concrete,
"Mmm, seems like you haven't changed all that much."
"Can't say the same about you," Bakugou snorts but the words never make it to his lips. It's because of him Izuku's entire life was flipped upside down to the point of him questioning his very being and taking a leap of faith off the school's rooftop.
"Didn't know the League Villains offered fucking room service these days," he barks, like a dog who's been denied a threat.
Midoriya flashes him a grin and it's the first time he takes it upon him to study the man.
Deku looks the same way he did five years ago yet at the same time completely different. How that's possible is beyond Katsuki's vivid imagination. He's taller naturally but still much shorter than him and on the skinny side. His face appears the same – all freckled cheeks and plump lips, soft edges that remind him more of a character in a fantasy than someone real.
Then there's a scar, right over his right eye. The lines of it are jagged, the skin a peculiar mix of pale pinks and angry reds. Vaguely Bakugou realizes that's the place his skull must have cracked when he hit the ground. The very thought of it makes him dizzy with guilt and regret so he chooses to bottle it all down.
Deku's hair is the same except it runs longer and wilder, mossy curls sticking out in all directions.
There's something inherently different, he just can't place his finger on it. It's not only the scar that mars his face.
Bakugou licks his lips, trying to find what it is, as though solving a game of "Spot the differences" in a magazine. It finally clicks –Deku's eyes are nothing like before.
Not the colour – it's still the same canvas of forest green, little specks of turquoise and gold here and there. Rather the expression –dull and lifeless, nothing left the previous excitement. There's a tint of sadness and exhaustion, clashing badly against the evident wish for revenge.
"Ah," Izuku picks a French fry from the tray, dips it in ketchup and puts it over his lips, "Well, you are after all a special guest of the League."
Fear curls its fingers around Katsuki's heart and squeezes,
"What the hell do you mean by that!?" he demands, forcing his voice to be levelled even as it rises unnaturally at the end.
Deku shrugs, the gesture almost innocent,
"Mm, we like to make the new recruits comfortable for the time being,"
Bakugou can't help the laughter that ignites somewhere deep in his chest and travels up to his lips,
"Doesn't your shitty boss get it?" he grunts, "I'll rather die than be a villain!"
Midoriya meets his eyes, green clashing over crimson. Katsuki struggles to look away but finds himself compelled, as though a strange force binds him to the other.
"Oh," Izuku's lips make a small o-shape, then stretch into a smile, one that appears sharp and wrong, "You're scared, Kacchan."
The nickname sends bells ringing in his ears, loud and clear even in the midst of his messy thoughts. A once soft pet name now sounds different and tainted. The fear is so strong in his chest it blinds him and so he goes to the only exit he knows from it– anger.
"Bullshit!" he screams, rattling in his shackles like a caged animal. He trashes and trashes until the pain in his wrists is so bad he has to stop, "I'll fucking kill you, all of you!"
Deku's eyes widen and something ignites in them, a speck of the former zest for life returning.
Laughter echoes through the cell as he starts clapping.
"See!" he exclaims, jumping next to him, so close they might as well be kissing, "See!? That's what I'm talking about!"
Katsuki's anger dissipates into the stale air of the room and he's left with is fear, dipped in with confusion. Deku appears to read his emotions with ease,
"Killing us?" he probes further, lips pulled into a sly smirk, "Mmm, that's not heroic, is it Kacchan?"
"Shut up!" the scream tears through the atmosphere but doesn't appear to affect Izuku who merely shakes his head.
"Mm, we aren't all that different, Kacchan," he muses, stretching out a hand and offering him a French fry.
The blonde turns away, refusing to be fed like an animal. Deku shakes his head, a tint of affection mixed in with nostalgia lacing the gesture,
"Still as stubborn as ever, I see."
He gets up then, taking the tray with him. His hand is already at the door when Bakugou finds his voice again, finally able to break away from the strange trance-like feeling he had when the other was close.
Midoriya plays with a stray curl, lips curling into something sad and wrong,
"How does it feel to be quirkless, Kacchan?"
Bakugou wants to scream. Scream and trash and destroy at the sheer irony in Deku's voice.
Problem is, he's powerless and all he can do is bark back,
"I already told you – you can all go fuck yourselves, I'm not becoming a villain."
Izuku turns around so fast the movement appears distorted. He smiles and it's the closest to the real thing he's seen so far,
"Yeah, you did," he agrees, offering a small pensive nod, as though running an analysis inside his head, "But back then I wasn't here, Kacchan."
Something cold wraps around his neck and he nearly chokes on the feeling. He can sense the threat, looming from the edges of the words. This doesn't even sound like the Izuku he knows, rather someone else entirely. Or is he just repeating the words of Shigaraki?
"What difference does it make?" he demands, tone angry and smug, even as he trembles.
Deku winks at him, the gesture out of place with the remains of innocence on his face, as though it's rehearsed,
"A world of difference," he tells him, "I promise you Kacchan, the things I'll make you feel…by the time I'm done you'll be the one calling yourself a villain."
Author's Note: So! Here is the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it.
English isn't my mother tongue, so I apologize for any linguistic or grammatical mistakes.
What do you think so far? Any guesses on what Izuku's quirk might be? There were some very subtle hints here and there but more information about that in the next chapters!
Do you think Katsuki can pull Izuku away from the dark path? And is the other going to accept an apology?
Please share your thoughts, I love hearing from other fans of MHA!