The walk home is uneventful. There was little to no commotion when he trudged out of the U.A. gates, but that was to be expected. After all, most students are eating lunch around this time, chatting with friends and enjoying a break from the their rigorous courses- but Bakugou Katsuki is not most students. That's why he isn't sitting with his peers in the cafeteria, instead the blonde is slouched over, eyes boring holes into the ground as he walks. Furrowed brows, accompanied by a deep and seething scowl on his face keeps the other people on the street at bay; this, he thinks, is how he likes it. His anger a shield between him and others. Between him and Deku. Between him and himself.
His backpack, the one he recalls having kicked against a wall moments after Izuku's figure had turned the corner, is slung around his shoulder. His sleeves are rolled up, and the blazer of his school uniform is wrapped unceremoniously around his waist as he treks through the park near his neighborhood- their neighborhood. The one they've been sharing since they were born.
The asphalt underneath him is hot, the air is stale, and the sky is a vast canvas of blue; an endless expanse of cloudless infinity. Here and there the silhouette of a bird overhead stains the horizon, but other than that it's perfectly clear- well, aside from the stupidly hot, bright as fuck sun. He almost wishes he could blast it the fuck outta the sky, sending the world into pitch darkness; that way he'd never have to look at either Kirishima, Aizawa, or Deku ever again. Alas, there is no such luck, and so the omnipresent star continues its heated assault upon his skin. Sweat beads on his forehead under his bangs, and there's a slight hiss that escapes Katsuki's lips as the perspiration on his hand begins to seep into his raw knuckles. The sting serves as an unpleasant reminder of the self-loathing he'd felt back at school.
Summer is near; only a couple months away, and he can almost taste the approaching heatwave the season brings with it. Taking a sharp right he wanders into a place he knows all too well. For the first time since his journey began he finally looks around, taking in the familiar surroundings. The trees are still in bloom, greens and pinks dashing his vision as he gazes upon them, an uncharacteristic calmness enveloping his once seething form. From the corner of his eye he sees an old and worn bench- the very bench he knows, and as a child, had claimed as his own. He grimaces- not due to the heat, but rather because of the memories flooding his mind. He remembers hunting bugs in this very park with him; recalls their shared ice pops in the wake of the scorching heat. Katsuki feels his heart pang in a way it's never done before when reflecting on the many adventures they'd had as kids. He doesn't know what this feeling is, but the moment he forces the aching in his chest to subside he knows who to blame. Deku. Aka a stupid, insignificant pebble on the side of the road. Picture after picture of his time shared with Izuku explode in front of him, swarming his senses as he's bombarded with the smells, sights, and sounds of the past. It's making the relatively empty park feel cramped, like an airtight cage where his body is doused in gasoline- set aflame when he halts in front of an old, rusted chain-link fence.
'This fucking place…'
BOOM-
With one final pop of an explosion the last lock on the fence falls to the ground, and Katsuki couldn't be more proud. That is, until his friends chime in their praises of "Wow!" and "Whoa, that was awesome!" Suddenly, he finds that his capacity for being full of himself is endless. He puffs his chest out, it's filled with pride and self confidence, and Katsuki's certain there's no better feeling in the world than that- than success. A huge grin breaks out across his features, and he's quick to point a thumb back at himself as he turns to face his mediocre group of 'heroes,' though he's more content by thinking of them as his sidekicks. "What did ya expect? My quirk is amazing. Now c'mon, let's go kill the enemy!" He points ahead, the hunger for triumph set ablaze in his eyes as he saunters through the gate he's recently vandalized. He and his friends readily ignore the signs of danger that read "beware" posted all around the fence. Correction: he ignores them. The others can't read, instead following him blindly as they trust his judgment. He can read (of course), he frankly just doesn't care one bit about any possible 'dangers.'
He feels amazing. He's not on top of the world- right here, right now with everyone else following behind him, listening to him- he is the world. Nothing can destroy this moment for him. Nothing-
"K...Kacchan, we really shouldn't go in here!" Deku squeaks out, having ditched his place at the end of the line in order to press to Katsuki's side, tugging at the other's sleeve in an attempt to make him stop. The intrusion doesn't bug him- after all, who cares about what Deku thinks? Can Deku even think? Katsuki muses that he can't- at the moment he's quirkless; at the moment he's nothing to him. "Pfft-" His laugh is cut short as he feels the others trailing behind him come to a stop. "Eh? What are you guys doing?" He whirls around, red eyes demanding and perplexed as he watches them all shuffle their feet in the dirt, embarrassment evident on their faces.
"W-Well, the signs did have a skull and crossbones on it! My mommy told me that means it's bad...right?" One child pipes up, his statement followed by enthusiastic nods from the other two. Katsuki's eyes dart back and forth between the desperate look Izuku's giving him, fists still bunched into the fabric of his shirt, and the other three kids' wary faces.
"I...I wanna go home-" Irritation pools into his gut, and his once determined eyes turn agitated as he lets off a few small explosions in his right hand. "Why?! Just 'cause of what stupid Deku said? Deku can't even read- none of you can," He yanks his shoulder away from Izuku, glaring at him while doing so. "And I can, and my quirk's the best, and I said we're gonna go kill the enemy! So stop bein' scaredy cats, we're heroes and with my quirk nothing could ever happen to us!" He stomps his foot for emphasis, a pleased smirk etching its way back onto his face when the others seem to think it over and are, ultimately, swayed by his radiating confidence. He's about to whip around and continue his march into the shrubbery when he notices a flop of green still hovering close to his side.
"Can I walk up here with you, Kacchan? The back is scary..."
"Huh? No way, Deku! You're just makin' these big babies nervous! Weakest in the back, that's always been the rule. And you're always the weakest, so scram." Katsuki orders, the statement rolling off his tongue matter of factly as he points to the back of the line. There's not much malice in it, though- these are just facts. Deku is quirkless. Deku is weak. Deku is last. Plain and simple. He doesn't bother to watch the disappointment wash over Izuku- wouldn't care even if he had seen it. If he was going to be his sidekick then he'd just have to suck it up and listen. Izuku complies, and they're off once more; marching in tandem to Katsuki's chants.
They go on this way for a few minutes, the previous events far from his mind when he begins to lead his band of heroes across a fallen tree trunk; it connects one end of the creek to the other. The 'sidekicks' slow their pace, trying to balance themselves as they pass over the mild waters. Their fearless leader, however, does not compromise his pace and therefore doesn't notice the slippery moss until one careless step causes his ankle to roll underneath him. The slip startles him, and the second he no longer feels a solid surface beneath him his heart skips a beat. Anxiety pools into the lower part of his abdomen and his breath hitches. He feels it happening- the fall, his head knocking against the tree trunk as he descends, accompanied by the way his ankle throbs when he flops into the water. The incident leaves him in a slight daze as the cold stream conflicts with his heated skin, hand coming up to rub the back of his head instinctively. It hurts- but it doesn't last long. His friends' laughter is what snaps him back to reality, and he can't help but grin up at them when they simply assume he's fine. 'They don't care.' He was elated at the realization that the other kids hadn't noticed the flicker of fear on his face when he fell. Otherwise, they mighta said something about it- and he didn't want that. Didn't need them to care. That's what it meant to be the best of the best- "I'll be up in a minute," -no one ever worried about you.
"Kacchan! Are you hurt?" No one except Midoriya Izuku.
Crimson eyes pry open, darting over to the river bank next to him. What- no, who he sees there shocks him. Narrowed pupils lock onto the boy's extended hand, confusion evident as it swims in pools of red. When he finally manages to pull his gaze up to Izuku's face, what he sees is something foreign to him. Green eyes are wide, brows turned down in an almost saddened expression. That gaze is filled with something, deep and genuine, too intimate for Katsuki's liking. It makes his skin crawl- what the hell is that? Worry. Concern. Pity. There's a moment where he's unsure of how to react. Why? Why is weak, quirkless Deku concerned over him? He's strong. He's resilient. He's destined for greatness- everyone agrees, and no one has to waste their time worrying over Katsuki. Not the teachers, not his parents, and certainly not a loser like Izuku. Unless…
Deku had questioned his decision to enter the gate.
Deku had tried to walk in the front of the line with him.
Deku was trying to pull him out of the water.
"Kacchan-" There's a loud, audible splash as Katsuki rushes forward, slapping the other boy's freckled hand away.
"SHUT. UP." The skin on skin contact startles the other, causing Izuku to visibly jump back as he narrowly avoids another smack- this one aimed for his head.
"W-Wait, I just wanted to help! Falling can hurt, Kaccha-"
"WHAT?! YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME!? I DON'T NEED YOU. NO ONE DOES. GO BE WORTHLESS SOMEWHERE ELSE."
Bzzt.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzzt.
A vibration in his pocket is what pulls him from the reverie, gaze slipping with the slightest hesitation from the frame of that old fence down to his thigh. When he pulls the device from his pant's pocket he notices his palms are clammy, and that his stomach is rumbling with a tell-tale sign of hunger. He did skip lunch...Speaking of skipping, as he clicks the screen on he notices that not only had the time gotten away from him, but apparently his close 'acquaintances' had all thought it would be cool to text him the same fucking thing. Multiple. Times.
Shitty-Hair:
Ya not eatin w/ us? [ 10:33 am ]
Saved you a seat, js! ;^) you comin? [ 10:50 am ]
Guess not haha [ 11:17 am ]
Ik your mad but you should probably show up soon bro [ 11:19 am ]
you're* whoops. [11:19 am]
Yoooo bakugou where you at? Class started. All Might doesn't like us bein late. [ 11:53 am ]
Asshido:
hey hey hey hey hey hey hey! [ 11:01 am ]
BAkuuuUUUGOUOUOUOUOUUU donut be a babyyyy [ 11:23 am ]
(/)o A o(\) r you skipping n didnt invite me? meanieeee [ 11:51 am ]
Dumbass battery:
i'm warming your seat with my ass [ 10:55 am ]
ur tantrum ain't over yet lol? [ 11:59 am ]
lol looks like a drowning dude #illuminaticonfirmed [ 12:00 pm ]
Tape fucker:
Obligatory 'where are you text,' but I'm sure you're just off being emo :-D [ 11:57 am ]
An anger similar to the one he'd relived mere moments ago at the thought of Deku's blatant childhood attack on his pride bubbled up; red eyes scanning the various texts with an increasingly aggravated scowl. What a bunch of fucking idiots, pestering him- and for what? He hardly replied when they texted him about important shit, what made them think he'd waste his time responding to this patronizing garbage?
Katsuki's grip on the phone tightened as he shoved it haphazardly back into his pocket. He grit his teeth. Not right now. Not today- and surely not before he ate. Looking up he scanned the area, shaking his head in aggravation whenever he'd see something reminiscent of his childhood; a time in his life that included an overbearing amount of that broccoli looking fuck. Why- why, even after all these years, does Deku still somehow manage to follow him everywhere? As a child he'd refused to leave Katsuki alone, and even now his memory still trails after him. It's been over a decade. Over a fucking decade and yet Izuku is still such a prominent factor in his life, despite all his efforts to push him away.
'Why do ya hate Midoriya so much?'
The question rings like a chime in his head. An annoying chime that he would crush given the chance. Yet he almost contemplates it, almost answers that question to himself- that is, until his stomach growls. "Fuck this shit, I'm going home." The utterance is meant to sound agitated, intended to carry the brash attitude he's known for, but even to his own ears it sounds devoid of anything but exhaustion. Sighing, he storms out of the park. He's tired. Fuck school, fuck Aizawa, fuck Kirishima, and fuck Deku. Exiting the park he all but launches into a sprint when he passes the Midoriya residence, tightening his grip on the strap of his backpack. The backpack Izuku brought him- 'FUCK.'
"If I never even think that name again it'll be too goddamn soon," He growls, glare locking onto the approaching target. He doesn't need any of this shit right now, all he needs is a big ass bowl of ebi chiri, and some peace and fucking quiet. Is that too much to fucking ask for? To say he launched up the front steps would be an understatement, for in a matter of seconds from reaching his driveway he's already slamming the front door open, throwing his bag at the wall (hard) and kicking his shoes off his feet.
"The fuck?! Masaru, is that you, honey?"
'God. Fucking. Damnit.'
Mom's home.