Aizawa blinked awake after the pure hell that was that midnight experience which was probably a result of the loop resetting. He had hoped that the sedatives that had been leftover from one of his trips to the hospital after a raid gone horribly wrong would have kicked in soon enough, but apparently ten minutes wasn't quite enough time.

Instead of easing himself out of his bed like he normally did, the tired pro hero stared at the ceiling, debating the merits of even getting up. Logically, he knew that he had to, but the simple act of getting out of bed was getting progressively more difficult to do in each and every loop.

Frankly—Aizawa mused as he continued to attempt to force himself up—he was impressed that Bakugou had managed for so long and so many loops of tragedy on his own, managing to be semi-productive and progressive despite the obvious side-effects that were dragging on the pro hero now.

Luckily, the tired man hadn't quite lost his self-awareness, and he could still realize that this was the effect of the loop and combat against it. It was just… a much slower process than he usually dealt with on the nights where he couldn't get any sleep at all.

So after a frustratingly long period of time, he finally got up and on his feet and went into his kitchen to let his cats out of the stupid cabinet that they had apparently managed to get themselves stuck in.

As his cats rubbed his legs and purred in gratitude for letting them out, Aizawa couldn't help but wonder if there was some higher being, watching them in this time loop. Looking down on them for being so stupid and not seeing what was right in front of them until it was too late, shaking their head at the stupidity of their choices, like how he fondly laughed at the way his cats managed to get themselves stuck in the cabinet.

But unlike Aizawa, whatever higher power or being—or whatever it was—didn't see fit to bother letting them out of the metaphorical cabinet that they were stuck in, instead leaving them to struggle to escape on their own.

The tired pro hero sighed as one of his cats bit him for petting them once, before standing up once more and attempting to make a decent breakfast for once in his life.

A glance at the clock revealed that he had been lying in bed for almost an hour, which made him curse almost as much as when he realized that he had completely ruined his supposed breakfast.

How the hell did he manage to fail at making miso soup from literal paste? Maybe Bakugou had been right when he had called Aizawa out for just being a lousy, lazy cook.

The man sighed before pulling on his black jumpsuit and draping his capture weapon around his neck. He had a lot of work to do, but maybe he would try the library again.

Takaki had brought up a couple of things in the previous loop that had the gears in his brain turning: he had an idea.

But maybe it would be best to meet up with Bakugou, as the kid had absolutely no idea what he had been doing the day prior, and the pro hero, likewise, didn't know a thing about what Bakugou had done.

And clearly it was important, so they had to meet up.

Yet, Bakugou hadn't come and knocked on his apartment door this morning, which was setting all sorts of alarm bells off in his mind. Whatever had happened yesterday was a big problem, if it meant that the blonde decided to go off on his own and ignore Aizawa.

Maybe it had been multiple things, or maybe he was just distracted or even unable to get out of bed like Aizawa just had struggled with, but regardless, whatever reason Bakugou had for not coming to check in would not end well.

They needed to be on the same page, but it seemed that they were worlds of information apart. Otherwise, they might both fall apart.

But Aizawa still didn't know Bakugou's home address, so he would have to check the horrible Aldera Junior High School for any sign of him. He shuddered as he fed his cats and made his way out the door and toward the stupid school that he constantly had to reassure himself that he would take care of after this time loop mess was dealt with.

He just had to be patient.

But as with everything else regarding emotions during this loop, patience was something he was running dangerously low on.

Bakugou quickly peeled off the top of his gakuran as he gruffly sauntered towards Takaki's house. He tied the sleeves around his waist like some shitty jacket, leaving him in his black undershirt. His trousers were sagging like usual, to prevent the sweat between his thighs from causing uncomfortable chafing.

Also like usual, most of the pedestrians steered clear of him, giving a wide berth on the side-walk, switching to the other side of the street, or simply walking past him noticeably faster than they had been walking prior.

Normally he would either be pissed that they were all too weak and wimpy to face him or proud and satisfied that even strangers knew that he was the shit and wasn't to be trifled with.

But at the moment, he was neither.

His mind was completely devoid of any thoughts besides what he was going to say to get the Takaki-fucker to be more cooperative. The blonde had no idea what he could do differently from the previous loop, but at the very least he might be able to judge whether that bastard was lying about not being in the loop with him and Aizawa or possibly even giving false details yesterday to get Bakugou out of his hair.

Of course, Bakugou wasn't exactly sure why the bastard would lie, as time wouldn't be able to move on until he released them from the loops. Although, that made him wonder if he could even die permanently, or if time would be like this for eternity. Would he just be stuck looping with Aizawa, unable to move at one point because of his own overwhelming emotions and mental exhaustion?

But honestly? He didn't want to wait to find out. So figuring this shit out with the Takaki-fucker was a must.

Before he knew it, Bakugou had made it to the (now) familiar street with that fucking house just about halfway down the block. It seemed like it had taken less time to get there despite the distance being longer from his house as the starting place instead of Aldera, but he supposed that not being completely fucking out of it as he walked did wonders for his sense of time.

That, or Deku was just a fucking slow walker. A slow walker and a suicidal bastard. He couldn't help but think of Deku's brain splattered across the concrete just yesterday, a smile on his stupid retarded face, as though there was just this perfect joy he got from taking the easy way out.

If Bakugou hadn't known better, he would have claimed that Deku was just doing it all to spite him, but there hadn't been a single suicide note nor did he seem to care if his bully was there to witness it either. There was absolutely nothing that backed up that assumption, and Bakugou couldn't help but wonder if there had ever been anything that backed up his assumptions regarding Deku.

But that wasn't the point.

Yet, he had no idea what the point was in the first place. But that was also what he was partially determined to find out by going back to the Takaki-fucker's place to demand answers.

Maybe not demand?

That might have been why that bastard was wholly uncooperative, so what if he… no nevermind. Bakugou refused to beg or grovel or play the sympathy card. Like he did with Aizawa?

That wasn't the point of that either though! And he had been too tired and lost and confused to stop himself, it wasn't like he had gone into that encounter planning to be that way. It just… sort of happened.

But it worked, so what was the problem? Pride? Who cared about pride when Deku was going to die. Besides, not planning to do something didn't change the fact that it happened and worked.

Bakugou growled to himself, denying the logical train of thought that was practically mocking him. It almost felt like a part of his mind had separated from him, like a separate person with different priorities and interests: with a strong desire to torment him.

But that really wasn't the case. It was his own damn mind and his own damn fault, so he just had to push through it, push past it until it would go away.

Because it had to go away after these loops... right?

He shook his head violently as he forced himself to keep walking until he reached the stupid, fake-happy porch. Bakugou stared at the front door, wondering if this would really be any different if he wasn't any different.

But he had to try.

For Deku.

So he sucked in a deep breath and knocked on the stupid wooden door with a sense of urgency that he hoped would bring the Takaki-fucker to the door without angering him. But with his luck? It was unlikely. He didn't exactly have the… best… track record in these past few weeks.

Actually, how many loops had he been through? Bakugou was no longer sure.

But at this point, he had no time to ponder the question beyond the realization of it as the door slammed open and almost hit him in the face. The blonde was greeted with the sight of Takaki scowling at him with a stern glare that set the teenager on edge.

"What do you want, brat?" he spit out.

"We need to talk," Bakugou stated simply, attempting to lay out his terms for the discussion

Instead, the man laughed, "What could you possibly have to talk about that I would give two shits about? Now go away, brat."

He grit his teeth and tried to ignore the way the man was purposefully riling him up. He had to keep this civil.

"I really think that you're going to want to hear me out," he forced out from between his clenched teeth.

"Really now? And who are you, you little shit? Why the fuck are you here?"

Bakugou felt like this was just going to be another repeat of the last time, so he would have to pull something new to get this stupid, brute of a man to cooperate. Hopefully the man hadn't been lying in the previous loop about not looping with Bakugou and Aizawa, otherwise he would be in a world of hurt.

"Yesterday, you told me to come here," the blonde tried, forcefully stifling any trace of hopefulness in his tone.

The man blinked, "Yesterday? I don't remember-" he froze, "You son of a bitch!"

Bakugou didn't even have a moment to flinch as the man grabbed him by the collar of his undershirt and yanked him inside before slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.

Shit, it seemed like the fucker had been lying about not remembering the loops. That bastard!

But instead of a scathing conversation about the conversation they'd had in the previous loop, Bakugou was met with a fist to the face. It took him completely by surprise, and not only was it a hit to his jaw, but a hit to his pride as well.

He thought that he had a good understanding of what might happen here, and he had a good approach, but apparently not. A myriad of hits began raining down on the teenager as he struggled to get out of the man's tight grip, simultaneously squirming toward and away from the back of his shirt that was digging into his neck painfully.

What could have possibly started this? This fucker was fucking bi-polar or some shit, all they had done was exchange a few words and then he started beating the fuck out of him! What the fuck?

Bakugou forced his eyes open—when had he squeezed them shut as tight as he could?—yet could only watch as the man's knuckles bruised and his own skin began to sting and ache. Takaki was yelling something unintelligible to Bakugou, as his vision was getting fuzzy and his ears began to throb, the pounding of his heart in his eardrums drowning out most of the other noise.

Although he wasn't sure if he was ennunciating correctly, between hits he forced out, "W-what the f-f-fuck?"

Bakugou had tried to keep it civil: all he had said was that yesterday-

Yesterday.

Fuck.

Bakugou had intended that to mean his yesterday: as in the loop that this bastard wouldn't remember. He had hoped to spark confusion that would encourage an open-mind and curiosity that would push the bastard to at least hear him out. But it was all for nothing, as the blonde had forgotten that the two of them had crossed paths just yesterday.

Yesterday, as in the yesterday that Takaki remembered.

It had been weeks ago, in Bakugou's mind, but it was very real and very fresh for the man that was currently beating him bloody. And it was an encounter that had ended in yelling and cursing and what was likely the beginnings of this entire time loop fiasco in the first place.

Fucker.

So, Bakugou released one of his hands from Takaki's arm that was holding his shirt and aimed it directly at the fucker's face. He released a small explosion, enough sound to startle the man and enough force to let him slip out of the firm grip.

But not enough to hurt—to do any real damage. Deku's face: dead, dull, blank, guilt guilt guilt guilt he didn't mean to he didn't mean to he really didn't it wasn't he didn't want no stop it go away no stop nononono.

As soon as he felt himself slam into the floor, Bakugou scrambled backward in an awkward crab walk before flipping onto his front and pushing himself onto his feet and ducking behind the couch to give him more time before Takaki was able to reorient himself.

"W-w-wait!" he shouted as Takaki scrubbed at his eyes, refusing to hesitate. He didn't want to risk the fucker not listening and going to beat him up again before listening.

As expected, the man followed him into the living room before leaning forward over the couch to reach for him again.

"I-I-I know what your quirk is please shut the fuck up and stop it stop it stop it!" he pleaded, guarding his face with his arms.

And for a minute, Bakugou didn't feel any hits and allowed himself to hope that maybe the man had listened. He carefully shifted one arm and cracked his eyes open to check. Sure enough, the man was now staring at him in fear and something else that the teen had never seen before.

Whatever it was, it made his stomach twist and his gut churn and he just wanted it to stop.

"Y-you haven't noticed anything s-strange… right?" Bakugou tried, wondering in the back of his mind if this was how Deku felt all of the time, leaving him frozen in shock and regret and unable to move.

Just. Like. Deku.

He violently shook his hands while locking his joints in place, the rest of his body jerking alongside his limbs. After only a second of that, it all stopped and his mind was cleared just enough for him to focus back on the Takaki-fucker in the middle of whatever the hell he was saying.

"-ow what the fuck are you talking about?" he growled, "How the hell would you know about… that?"

Bakugou shifted from a crouch back into a more upright position, although it wasn't exactly standing. He rubbed at his nose, which was a bit itchy for some reason. He felt something warm and wet on his fingers and he forced himself to release his anger out in a shuddering breath.

"Because I've been stuck in a fucking time loop because of your dumb ass!" the blonde hissed, "I forgot that we technically ran into each other yesterday, so you got all over-reactive and started beating my ass. I meant my yesterday, not yours. Well, I guess more like the fucking last loop I went through. Listen to someone before you go bat-shit crazy on them, you insane bastard! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Takaki recoiled as though he was just struck, "You're the little bitch that beat on my daughter, you have no room to complain. And I didn't use my quirk on you, so there's no way you're telling the truth."

He gave a short pause, their heavy breathing filling the room in place of their voices. Bakugou heard a little squeaky-wheezing from his own breathing, while Takaki seemed unable to take deep breaths without shuddering. It came out as almost stuttering, if it were interrupting breathing instead of speaking.

"I highly doubt I'd talk to you, Bakugou Katsuki. So who the fuck told you about my quirk?"

And it was with that question that Bakugou finally realized that this attempt would work no better than the previous one. It had arguably started out worse this time—he couldn't ignore the way his ribs twinged with every breath and the tingly feeling that he knew was blood beginning to stream down his now-broken nose—but he had been ignorantly hopeful that slightly adjusting his tactics would make it better.

He tried explaining that he was in a loop, but Takaki just ignored him, instead grabbing his undershirt once more and dragging him toward the front door.

Bakugou struggled half-heartedly—mentally exhausted and freezing up any time he even considered using his quirk again to get free—babbling explanations and trying anything and everything he could think of to get the man to just stop and listen.

But it was for nothing.

At some point, his words became incoherent noises as Takaki continued to drag him out of the house and down the street. Further down the road, several pedestrians shot them questioning looks, but gave them an even wider berth than they had when it was just Bakugou alone, storming down the side-walk.

Before he knew it, Takaki threw him down onto the ground and stomped on his ribs for good measure, leaving him heaving and wheezing in the dirt.

Bakugou wasn't sure how long he stayed there, on the ground and trying to keep his breaths steady and shallow without hyperventilating. Everything hurt in a way that he hadn't felt in a while. Being top dog around Aldera meant that few people messed with him, and the self-defense classes he had taken long ago as well as the moves he had found online and practiced alone had served him well in that regard.

But really, this was nothing like the usual aches and soreness that followed workouts or gym practicals. It was like comparing a first degree burn to a complex bone fracture. Yet through the pain, his head felt clear for the first time in several loops.

It probably wasn't healthy, but whatever worked, he supposed. It wasn't as if he was going to try to repeat it.

Unless he got desperate—of course—however Bakugou had the feeling that he was getting somewhere. Even if this loop was a bust, he finally had a concrete lead that he could follow. As many loops as it would take, he would try again and again until he succeeded.

This attempt didn't work, so maybe he would have to word it differently, or maybe intimidate the man through blackmail? He had seemed very anxious both in this loop and the previous, questioning how Bakugou had known about his quirk. But then again, maybe that wasn't his best idea, as the Takaki-fucker had shown how quickly his moods could switch to a polar opposite.

Should he try to get Takaki—the one he bullied—to try and get her father to cooperate? Or would Aizawa's intimidation be better.

Bakugou grimaced at the thought of the pro hero. Who the fuck was he, a stupid teenager, to have decided to distrust a pro hero that didn't have to believe him about the loops in the first place yet still did, ending up getting dragged into the whole mess because of it?

He didn't know what the hell he was even doing wrong in these interactions, but if the Takaki-fucker was a criminal like Bakugou was starting to suspect, then Aizawa would have a better idea since he handles them all the time.

It was literally his job, after all.

Bakugou finally forced himself to get off the ground once the pain became manageable. The world went fuzzy and he almost fell over from the vertigo before black splotches phased into his vision, but quickly dissipated. The teen let out a slow breath, ignoring the way his head pounded and ribs throbbed in favor of figuring out where he had been left.

After a second, it was clear that he was in a park of some kind, although given how short the travel time between Takaki's house and this place was, it was likely nearby. He sort of remembered passing by and seeing playground structures, so maybe it was in the direction to Aldera.

He slowly limped over to the swing-set and all but collapsed onto one of the swings, not so much out of pain as out of pure exhaustion.

The blonde slowly swung himself back and forth, never high enough for his feet to leave the ground, but also not so little that his knees didn't bend. He found the repetitive motion soothing as he turned the events of the loop over in his mind.

He absentmindedly pondered over Takaki's words, not only from today, but also in their first confrontation. A lot of what he had said was spoken purposefully to rile Bakugou up, he realized. But those phrases seemed to be right before or just after the weird personality flip, like the man was purposefully manipulating the conversation to be able to take control, or struggling to maintain power.

It was strange, but the answers the man had given while soft-spoken and anxious were likely the most truthful. And, given by the reaction he had gotten today, the man hadn't been lying about not being a part of the loops—aside from starting them in the first place.

So a key phrase. Where the hell would he get his hands on that? There was no way to know, if the man himself wasn't aware. He had claimed something about hearing it somewhere after the first loop, but there was no way to know where it was.

Was it even a specific place at all? Or was he remembering wrong? Fuck, he wished there was a way to write stuff down, there was only so much he could memorize between loops when they usually ended with his head feeling fuzzy and floaty or with his focus on something else entirely.

It was a miracle that he had managed to memorize Aizawa's address that first time, much less enough to apparently give it to Takaki. Though, he supposed, remembering routes after having taken them were much easier.

But he was getting distracted.

There had to be something he was missing here, and he couldn't for the life of him figure it out.

So he just kept swinging, mentally compiling everything he knew about the loops. He started putting things together like building blocks, following logical guesses until they reached a point that he didn't have an answer for or thought of something that contradicted it.

There was no telling how long he had sat there, working and reworking ideas until his brain hurt and he could no longer ignore the growing headache. The sky hadn't quite grown dark when Bakugou finally gave up on trying to decipher the facts, but it was probably mid afternoon.

Curiosity overtook him, so he reached for his phone, yet it was nowhere to be found.

He cursed, realizing that it must have slipped out of his pocket at some point while he had been dragged to this stupid park.

But before he could throw a fit about it, he saw a flash of green and black from his peripherals. His head shot up toward the sidewalk—and sure enough—a person donning a familiar uniform and with recognizable messy green hair was speed walking past.

Bakuogu jumped to his feet, wincing at the flash of fire that shot through his entire body at the movement. He pushed through the dose of agony, dashing out of the park and in pursuit of Deku down the sidewalk.

Although he had been going fairly quickly, Deku wasn't exactly sprinting, which made it fairly easy for Bakugou to close most of the distance between them.

The blonde wondered where the hell he could be going in this direction, as his classmate continued straight past Takaki's street and toward seemingly nowhere. As he followed, he became more and more confused and worried about what the hell he was planning to do.

Finally, the angry teenager made it close enough that he could easily catch up if he decided to sprint, but one glance kept him from doing so. Deku's hair and the collar of his gakuran were completely drenched and there were several bruises that littered the back of his neck. Bakugou could only guess that the stupid extras decided to dunk him in the toilets: a pathetic action that the blonde had always considered beneath him, but it was undeniably effective.

Effective for all the things that Bakugou was beginning to question in the first place.

So he decided to stay a bit back, in hopes that Deu wouldn't notice his presence until it was necessary.

But then Bakugou recognized a landmark and tripped. There was no way.

No…

Deku took a hard right and sped up until he was halfway across a familiar bridge, staring at the water, mesmerized.

Bakugou scrambled to his feet and sprinted toward the green-haired bastard that swiftly swung his backpack off of his shoulders and held it to his chest as he stepped onto the ledge.

Just as he was within reach, Deku spun on his heel and tipped over the edge, his blank face quickly morphing into surprise and horror as he took in the sight of Bakugou's outstretched hand and—no doubt, desperate—expression.

And then there was a splash and nothing.

Aizawa wasn't sure what to do. Well, that wasn't completely true.

He had an idea, but he didn't really want to follow through with it because it felt a bit… unfair. Which was probably a hilarious concept coming from him, Hizashi probably would have gotten a kick out of it. Well, that or he would have been ridiculously blubbering about him finally going soft or some shit.

Either way, he was glad that Hizashi wasn't here. Although, maybe he would ask for help if this loop didn't go well. The hero didn't want to, but well… desperate times call for desperate measures, and there was only so much that Tsukauchi could actually legally help him with—without opening an actual case, at least.

Hell, he had probably been asking beyond what legalities would allow regardless of the consequences.

But that was besides the point.

He had gone to Aldera, only to find that neither Bakugou nor Midoriya had gone to school that day. On a whim, he asked after Takaki and also found that she had also skipped. The only thing that had made that horrible and frustrating visit better was the disgruntled expression their shitty principal had made at the realization that not one, but three students from the same class had skipped on the same day.

Aizawa was just glad that the bastard wouldn't remember it in the next loop, but that was merely a consolation prize for a shitty hand.

Unfortunately, he prolonged the conversation just long enough to subtly prompt the principal to promise to give him a call if any one of them decided to show up late to class. Which he highly doubted would happen, but he couldn't be certain. It was better safe than sorry.

In any case, he had gotten Bakugou's address from the reluctant detective and swung by, only to discover that no one was home. It was odd, but the possibilities made Aizawa's heart begin to pound. He had no other place in mind that the angry blonde teenager could possibly have gone to, except maybe Midoriya's house, so he had called Tsukauchi once more.

He had resorted to owing him a favor—one that he fully intended to keep after the loops ended, with or without Tsukauchi's knowledge—and got the other boy's address.

Unfortunately it was the same thing. The pro hero knocked, rang the doorbell and received no answer. He had even flashed his pro hero license to the landlord of the apartment complex and asked after the Midoriyas, only to learn that his father was in America working and that his mother worked part-time during the day without telling her son, and that she should return soon.

But well, he wasn't going to interact with the kid's mother if he didn't have to, especially since his entire objective was finding Bakugou.

Aizawa groaned in frustration as he found himself walking back toward the library. There was no other legal method (or illegal method that he considered worth the risk) to find Bakugou, so he decided that it would be best to use his time wisely and attempt more research.

In the next loop, he would just have to meet Bakugou at his house directly as soon as he woke up (and maybe let his stupid, adorable cats out).

But as he finally made it toward the bridge that was on the way to the library, he heard people yelling for help. His eyes immediately locked onto two figures: one on the ledge and the other running towards the first. Instinctively, Aizawa began running towards them, hoping it wasn't a fight or homicide about to take place.

Before he could call out to them, the first figure disappeared in a blur of green and black just as the blonde haired figure—frankly, they looked small enough to be kids, as the pro hero got closer and closer—slammed to a halt with his arm outstretched.

As Aizawa pushed through a line of people that had stopped to gawk at the scene, his eyes widened. The figure standing at the edge of the bridge was indeed the kid he had been searching for all day. And if that was Bakugou… then the other figure that he had seen pitch themselves over into the water must be Midoriya, guessing by the way he stood frozen in horror.

He sprinted as fast as he could to close the rest of the distance, hoping to get there with enough time to survey the strength of the river's current, Midoriya's position in the water, and hopefully save him.

Sure, he had generally decided to leave Midoriya alone since he was likely to continue trying to die every loop and preventing it took up vital time. But the pro hero's mind flashed back to Bakugou's distraught face in just the prior loop. Midoriya must have killed himself once again, and it was really taking its toll on the blonde.

But he was starting to regret his 'logical' decision as he watched Bakugou wobble in place, staring down at the rushing water.

It all happened so fast—Aizawa found himself regretting everything.

Bakugou stared at the water raging below him, legs shaking as he stood on the edge of the bridge that Deku had just thrown himself off of. There was no way. There was no way.

He thought—he thought that he had just talked Deku down from ending his life, but were all his words just said to placate him? Just to get him to back off so that he wouldn't interefere in Deku's stupid selfish plan? He apparently couldn't even save Deku more than once, how could he ever become a hero?

Especially since it was all his fault in the first place. He couldn't even fix the problem he caused, and now a life that meant the world to him was at stake. How was he meant to handle hundreds of thousands of strangers that would depend on him to save them in the future as a pro hero, much less the Number One Hero?

Why was he even alive if he couldn't even fulfill the one thing he was born to do?

And with that thought, his everything snapped like a rubber-band that was stretched much too far. His overwhelming emotions suddenly just stopped and he felt empty… numb.

He continued to stare at the water rushing downstream without a care, no thoughts running through his usually over-active brain.

He didn't hear the shouts behind him, didn't register the frantic figure approaching rapidly just to the right of him from the corner of his eye. He didn't even see the way that Deku's boy finally rose to the surface further downstream: completely still, unmoving, and face down.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he fell forward into the river and he was

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