Luckily for Bakugou, his father never told a word of what had happened to his mother, who would have wasted several hours of their life screaming about what an ungrateful son he was, and how worried he made her all the time, and possibly a lecture about breaking curfew followed up by a threat to take away his freedom and stop paying for his hero-preparation activities.

Honestly, the first time he heard her threaten that in this timeline, he had been nine and almost started bawling on the spot. The panic had set in because the need to prepare for the future was so necessary that if he didn't have it, it would have meant his mother was practically dooming all of society. But there was no logical way to convey this, so he ended up fleeing the house and staying outside for two days.

It was ironic. He found himself sitting by the stream that haunted his memory, wallowing in the fact that everything was changing for the worse instead of better.

He was supposed to make it better, but all he was doing was making it worse.

He made Deku worse, he tore apart their entire family for fuck's sake!

Every time he tried to make up for one of his faults, it just ruined everything. And that guilt was crushing.

He wondered if all the shit that happened in the original timeline was his fault as well, and he couldn't help but decide yes.

After his musing at that damned stream, he started getting the itch to get better faster. He threw himself harder into his intense preparations.

He had to continually test himself, work harder, think smarter, plan practice choose decide prepare understand all his fault.

His mother hadn't even been apologetic once he made it home. She had just been pissed that he had worried her, ranting for hours about how she couldn't even get the police to search for him because he hadn't been missing for long enough to be counted as a runaway.

His father had looked absolutely miserable, but not in total disagreement with the sentiment. Although, it was clear he was unhappy with how she was expressing it.

Bakugou didn't know how he felt about that.

As the years went by, he and his mother had worse and worse spats. At some points, he would dare say they were worse than the ones he had originally been familiar with.

And it was constantly draining.

Home wasn't safe, school wasn't safe, the streets weren't safe.

He was just so tired of doing nothing, of being able to do nothing.

So developed the itch. The urge to get out and do something useful. The urge to test himself for some semblance of certainty and control—proof that he was ready, that he was going to be able to change the future for the better.

Of course, there was always something that prevented him from scratching that itch. Whether it be his mother, his training taking up so much time, or simply the one time he went out he was almost caught, Bakugou was stuck and miserable.

He couldn't help himself every night drawing Deku over and over and over and over again, reviewing his notebooks chock-full of events, dates, people, plans, strategies, memories, everything, to make sure he wouldn't forget a single detail that could possibly cost him his life or someone else's.

He didn't really talk much anymore, slowly giving up on talking back to his mother, just soaking in her yelling and doing his best to do some little things to placate her. His father was kind, doing his best to comfort Bakugou even when his mother was in a shit mood.

It was tough, it was frustrating, but finally he was almost there.

He had made it to his last year of middle school.

If he had been bad at communicating and socializing in the original timeline, it was safe to say he was much worse this time around. His abrasive nature kept physical bullying off the table, but the isolation was still suffocating and he felt like he was drowning.

Bakugou couldn't wait to finally be at UA, away from all the fakes and losers and assholes that would never even begin to understand him.

Then that damned day finally rolled around. The date had been practically etched into his brain forever, and the dread leading up to it during the previous week had been pure, endless torture for weeks. At the very least, the whispers of gossip about All Might being in town that had been spreading for a couple days only confirmed that whatever Bakugou had fucked up hadn't totally screwed with the timeline. That was at least one positive to this tangle of fuck-ups.

And sure enough, in homeroom the teacher announced about high school applications, mentioning offhandedly how Bakugou wanted to go to UA.

The scene had been playing on loop in his head for days, but he still had no idea how the events would happen without Deku. What would the class say? How would they react? Would he be ridiculed or would they just accept it and move on? Part of him didn't want to know, but it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter.

The day was already starting off miserably. That morning, his mom saw fit to yell at him again for waking up late.

Which he hadn't gotten up late in the slightest. In fact, he always got up at the same time meticulously. She was the one who had been running late, and he supposed she had just decided to take it out on him—just pretend that he had been the one to fuck up instead of her, if only for a second of repreive from her self-loathing.

Of course, it turned into a long lecture that ended in getting smacked up for at least ten minutes and unironically making both him and her more late than they would have been if she had just shut her trap. He had to dodge her last hit and run out the door so as to not be late for school, forgoing any attempts for breakfast, which probably pissed her off every which-way to Sunday. Not that the nausea swimming in his gut would have made breakfast a pleasant experience in the first place, but his mother would have forced him to eat it anyway so he really was dodging two bullets for the price of only risking getting hit with one.

...He knew he was already tired when the metaphors in his internal monologue started getting away from him.

By the time he arrived, the room was already half full of tired, bored students lamenting many insignificant things about their lives. Not one head turned to greet his entrance and though part of him wouldn't have minded, the dread that had been building up made his stomach churn at that realization. He couldn't help but draw comparisons between this timeline and the original.

It made him feel even more sick.

But regardless, he had a few minutes until homeroom and then the hell would begin. Bakugou stared at his knuckles as he sat at his desk impatiently, watching all the usual stragglers walk into the class.

Then the bell rang and his teacher began the spiel he could probably recite forwards and backwards at this point for how many times it had played in his nightmares.

Like in the original timelines, everyone activated their quirks in excitement, the failure of a teacher not bothering to stop them. He brought up those damn high school applications and mentioned how Bakugou wanted to go to UA. Immediately, the entire class laughed and threw taunts his way. He could care less about what these extras thought of him, but some of them hit close and hurt. They were all things he himself had said, once upon a time.

So he just stared them all dead in the eye and concentrated as much conviction into his gaze as he could, which shut them all up real fast. Even the teacher coughed uncomfortably before quickly moving on.

The rest of the day was just as boring as any other, aside from the whispers and gossip he could hear during transition periods and in the hallway after lunch. At the end of the day, everyone else seemed to rush outside, glad to be free from the miseries of school.

Bakugou couldn't help but linger in the room, staring out the window toward the koi pond as he remembered exactly what he had done. He really didn't know what to feel anymore.

He let his instincts guide him to the alleyway where the sludge villain attacked, ignoring the rising panic and bile in his throat.

He had to try to keep it the same, even if he didn't want to. Especially if he didn't want to. Just so when it truly mattered, he could fix everything.

But as he tapped his foot impatiently and checked his watch, nothing seemed to happen.

His heart started racing faster. Why was nothing happening?

This event had to happen! So many things centered around this event! He remembered Kirishima mentioning how he had gotten the motivation to work toward being a hero by hearing about the kid who rushed in to save… him…

Shit!

Deku wasn't here to save him! And he couldn't risk using his quirk either. But wait, wasn't it his quirk that actively made things worse, because of the fires? But why wasn't the sludge villain here? Don't tell him that Deku had something to do with the villain before him?

In a panic, Bakugou ran to the end of the alley. He frantically looked around before deciding to go left. He ran and ran, taking the route Deku liked to take home, the route he himself chose to walk on those days where his mother kicked him out of the house.

There was a loud crash in the distance, and he forced himself to ignore the burning in his legs in order to reach the scene faster. As he got nearer, he heard a memorable, "Texas SMASH!"

By the time he got within distance to view the scene—passing under a small bridge with a distinctly open sewer cap in front of it that he couldn't help but feel like had significance—he noticed some poor schmuck on the ground, probably unconscious, and All Might scooping up the goop into soda bottles.

Had he been… grocery shopping? Before this? Seriously?

Sure enough, the bags of groceries were off to the side.

And he chased the villain... with his groceries?

While Bakugou was still trying to wrap his head around All Might's utter stupidity, the hero seemed to finish containing the goop and turned his attention to the civilian. After a moment, the hero crouched down and touched the man's throat, checking for a pulse.

Bakugou dared to move closer and immediately regretted it. All Might let out a shaky breath and pulled out his phone. He could feel his eyes begin to water as he realized that this unsuspecting man had been drowned to death.

He could help himself as he rushed forward and started basic CPR. He winced as he heard a rib crack under his compressions, but after two minutes, the man coughed and sputtered as sirens echoed in the distance.

The paramedics took that man as soon as they arrived, leaving All Might and Bakugou alone in the blink of an eye. And the police asked for a report on the spot. In fact, Bakugou recognized the Detective that showed up, he was the same guy after the USJ. He must have been in the quirk crimes division then.

Honestly, it was all a bit of a blur. Just as fast as they had arrived, they were gone, just leaving Bakugou and All Might in the middle of the street.

For a minute, they just stared at each other without a word. It was clear that the hero was starting to feel unnerved, but Bakugou didn't really know what to say so he remained silent.

"Young man! That was some quick thinking, there," he boomed, the awkwardness and tension still lingering.

Bakugou just scoffed and looked away, "Yeah, he would've died without it. Besides you aren't allowed to perform it because of your quirk having a strength augmentation aspect, right?"

Toshinori flinched and hid a choked cough behind an anxious chuckle, "You really know your stuff, kid. But nobody really knows what my quirk is, so how could you be so sure?"

He just sent the man a deadass stare. This fool wasn't fooling anybody.

All Might scratched his head awkwardly, "Alright, well I best be going now. Good luck young man in your endeavors as a future hero!"

And he flew away.

Bakugou couldn't help but let out a, "Tch."

The hero hadn't even asked him if he had been planning to be a hero. He just assumed it.

What an ass.

When Bakugou got home, he opened the door calmly and quietly so as to not disturb his mother. He quietly removed his shoes and began to trudge upstairs swiftly, ignoring the anxiety that had been building since All Might had left. He was going to have to figure out what to do next, because he was pretty sure he had just ruined Kirishima's motivation to be a hero, and there was no way he could do this without Kirishima. He was going to be so important in the future but without him Bakugou was sure that he would crumble.

His panicked thoughts were interrupted by a low hiss, "And where do you think you're going, you little shit?"

Oh he was so fucked.

"Do you care to explain why the fuck you were so late in coming home?" she growled.

He felt his joints lock up in fear, his muscles stiffening and his back straightening. He didn't know what to say in response, so he just kept his mouth shut. That usually got a better outcome than trying to defend himself. She would just punish him anyway.

"Care to explain why the fuck you were on TV for saving some stranger, in some road you weren't even supposed to be near? You were supposed to come home immediately, you fucker!" she yelled.

He tried his best not to shake as she berated him. But he didn't even know why she was so worked up about it? This wasn't the first time he's stayed out after school, and he didn't know why today would be any different. And why was his being on TV for saving someone a big deal to her? Although he hadn't realized there was any media there when the police arrived, had he really been that oblivious? But still, why was his mother so upset? He was so confused and stressed and anxious and he didn't know what to say or do what was he supposed to think what did he do wrong he didn't know and she wouldn't tell him because apparently he was supposed to know and he couldn't breathe-

His mother cut off her rant in surprise as the door opened quickly yet not very obnoxiously. Bakugou turned around hastily, his heart racing and his throat tight, only to see his dad rushing in disheveled, but sporting a concerned look on his face.

Tears welled up in his eyes. His father to the rescue again.

Masaru took in the situation and immediately wiped the calm expression from his face, replacing it with a stern, determined glare. He glared at his wife and stormed up to her, telling Bakugou to go to his room with just a soft glance and a wave of his free hand. (When had he put down his briefcase?)

Bakugou raced up to his room as fast as his feet could take him, ignoring the screaming match starting downstairs.

It was a rare thing for his dad to yell, but he couldn't think about that at that moment. Instead, he scrambled around his room in search of the earbuds he had discarded in frustration because they had been tangled. The yelling got louder, and he bit his lip in an attempt to restrain the tears and sobs. Earbuds earbud where the fuck did he put them why did he throw them why couldn't he have put them away like normal no matter how mad he was he needed them why did he do this why did he think this was a good idea whywhywhywhywhy—there they were!

Bakugou slammed them into his phone—shit! Only eighteen percent left!—and set the volume to max. He quickly navigated to a playlist that was mostly made up of songs that Jirou had recommended to him when she noticed he had been stressed by his unsteady heartbeat in class.

Fuck he missed his classmates.

He thought he'd never admit to himself how much he missed them but the loneliness and uncertainty was getting to him.

Bakugou reluctantly pulled his imperfect drawing of Deku out of his wallet, carefully unfolding the worn and torn paper. He stared at Deku's eyes, and Deku stared back.

He stayed like that for who knows how long, pretending that the headphone blocked out all other noises. He almost felt ashamed to look at any representation of Deku, but he couldn't help himself.

Once the yelling died down, he reluctantly took out the headphone and shivered in the unnerving silence. He quietly folded the paper to put away.

It ripped at the crease, tearing the entire image in half.

He stared at it in a mixture of horror, agony, and realization.

The feeling finally sunk in. He was all alone and he would be for another long ten months.

Bakugou woke up still sitting in his desk chair in his clothes. His muscles ached and his hips and neck were punishing him for falling asleep in such a bad position. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and tried to check the time on his phone, which turned out to be very much dead. Ah, that's right. He must have left it on all night like an idiot.

Fantastic.

He couldn't help but remain in his chair for a few extra minutes, dreading whatever was going to happen after the previous disaster of a night. Yet an ache in his chest was compelling him to move, so he did. Bakugou stretched as he stood up from the chair, immediately regretting his carelessness in falling asleep.

Rubbing his face, he grabbed a change of clothes after plugging his phone in to charge. He quietly opened his door and peeked into the empty hallway before making his way to the bathroom for a quick—and hopefully quiet—shower.

As he held the water spray over himself, he tried not to think about the way his mother yelled at him and how anxious it made him. Of course, he failed in that endeavor and only managed to make himself feel more pathetic and hopeless than he would ever admit.

After washing himself, he debated the merits of taking a bath. Though he quickly decided against it, knowing that he would just sink deeper into his own thoughts. It would be better to do something productive. Maybe get some breakfast and then leave the house as quickly as fucking possible until his mother cooled off.

Speaking of, he hoped that his parents were still asleep after the disaster that was last night. He didn't think he would be able to deal with them at the moment. He shook his head at this train of thought, trying to dispel the growing dread and panic that accompanied it. It would do no good to think of that, so instead he got dressed and began to tip-toe downstairs.

Unfortunately, the universe was conspiring against him. His mother locked eyes with him as soon as he made it to the last step and he froze instinctively. Her glare was palpable, and his heart immediately started racing. She refused to say anything for a solid minute, so he decided to cautiously take a step onto the hardwood floor with his sock-covered foot.

Her gaze intensified and she glowered at him. He could practically feel her rage.

"Get. Out."

He stiffened in surprise, his breath caught in his throat.

At his inaction, she screamed, "Get out!"

To which, he immediately scrambled out of the house without even putting on his shoes or grabbing his wallet or phone, which he had left upstairs.

The panic that had overwhelmed him last night was once again rising—rearing its ugly head and making itself known despite being unwelcome.

The tears blurred his vision, so he shut his eyes and kept running—faster, further—running until the burn in his legs became too much to handle. Running so that the burning and aching would drown out the thoughts and feelings he had.

Why was he crumbling? He was supposed to be the Great Bakugou Katsuki and he was going to save the world!

But maybe… he wasn't so great anymore. After all, nobody at school liked him, his mother wanted him gone, and he hadn't been able to prove his worth in a fight. He probably couldn't even fight properly anymore with his luck. He just wasn't good enough, not enough, not enough—

He gasped as the thoughts started to overwhelm him and coupled with the heavy exercise that made it harder to breathe. The pain couldn't hold it all back anymore.

So he stopped running. It was too sudden, trying to slow down too quickly left him stumbling and tripping pitifully as his tears escaped his eyes against his will.

He crumbled on the ground, curling up in the middle of the sidewalk in the darkness of the early morning, all alone in the dark and empty street.

Bonus:

Toshinori felt unnerved as the blonde kid stared at him. He was in his puffed up form, but the way this boy looked at him made it seem as though he was staring deep into Toshinori's soul. As though he knew the man's deepest and darkest secrets.

But that was ridiculous, wasn't it?