He didn't know how long he had stayed there, on the ground just crying his eyes out.
But after a while, he felt so drained and tired with dried tear-tracks that he hoped weren't obvious. The sun had begun to come up, the gorgeous pinks and yellows that began to streak through the sky felt so out of place. It was beautiful and calm, but he just felt too empty to really appreciate it. A nauseous feeling invaded his gut.
At the very least, the sunrise managed to give him the motivation to pick himself up off the concrete before someone saw him and assumed he was doing something bad. Or just, you know… dying.
Bakugou wandered for a bit, wondering where he had even managed to get to. He recognized nothing in this area.
He reached for his phone instinctively, flinching when his hand touched his empty pocket. His mind began to process that, next reaching for his wallet which was also missing.
Fucking hell.
So now he had no money and no way of contacting anyone and no guarantee that he would be allowed back in the house without getting either the door slammed in his face or getting slapped around.
Or yelled at, but honestly that was the least of his worries at the moment.
Why did it have to be the weekend?
If he had school, he at least would have a distraction, but now he had nowhere to go.
And no food.
Great.
And what if he had just been kicked out of the house forever, how the fuck was he supposed to survive until UA?
How the fuck was he supposed to even get into UA if he mother refused to handle the tuition or forms. He could forge her signature and shit, but if he was found out it would ruin everything!
Fuck fuck fuck, one day at a time.
What could he do today to get food so he wouldn't screw up his entire diet?
He thought for a while, beginning to wander around in hopes of finding a familiar landmark. But no matter how much he tried to come up with a solution, his mind just kept drawing a blank. He was in no position, especially as a minor, to be able to do anything. The urge for something familiar grew stronger the longer he walked around without knowing where exactly he was.
He instinctively reached for his wallet where the drawing of Deku rested, but then he was reminded that it was back in his room. He cursed his foolishness and decided that he would have to sneak back into his own house at some point to get some essentials.
Yeah, he could do that.
But then he remembered that the drawing had been torn just last night by his own lack of care for the picture—how it had been created and destroyed by his own hands—and his heart sank.
He clenched his teeth in frustration, cursing himself for how often he had been having to hold back tears recently. It was like his body was compensating for the lack of crying that Deku had always provided.
He clenched his fists, really wishing (despite himself) that Deku were here. He always knew how to make something good out of a shit situation. But now, there was nothing good out of any of this, especially for Deku, and it had been all Bakugou's fault.
Outside of his internal loathing, something caught his eye. He stopped walking and pulled all of his attention out of his head and focused on his surroundings.
That was… the convenience store near UA…
Had he really managed to run that far?
He was in slight shock, but a part of his mind began to reorient himself with regards to his new position from the revelation of this new information. His heart ached with familiarity and homesickness.
He really missed UA, he couldn't wait to go back.
His eyes began to water again and he scrubbed at them furiously. He really needed to stop crying, dammit! Even Deku had been working on crying less, so dammit! So should he! He wouldn't let Deku be better than him at this when they met up back at UA!
Bakugou couldn't help but turn away from his school—no, his home and his family—with determination, pointedly ignoring his blurry vision. He just had to be patient and then the real work could begin.
Patience.
He stared longingly.
What a load of bullshit.
An unfamiliar voice called out to him, and he blinked, "Young man? Why might you be out so early? And all alone too… would you like to come in?"
Bakugou had to search a bit to find where the voice was coming from. Though that wasn't a testament to his hearing (in fact, his hearing was much better at this point than it had in the original timeline. Probably because he had used his quirk much more in school the first time around).
It was a frustrating realization that most of his struggles in the first timeline turned out to be self-sabotaging, and it took him fucking up his second chance to realize it.
No, he wouldn't keep fucking it up, and he hadn't fucked it all up yet. He still had a chance, he still could succeed. He would fix it. He had to.
"Young man?" the voice questioned again, and Bakugou snapped into attention, mentally chiding himself for getting lost in his head. The voice was coming from a small house tucked out of the way next to the convenience store. An old man was leaning out the front door with a kind, yet concerned, look on his face.
Bakugou felt himself swallow thickly, "Thanks."
He cautiously wandered into the house, feeling at ease just by looking at the calm and welcoming smile gracing the old man's features. It reminded him of how Masaru had treated him that night he had gotten caught sneaking out.
He didn't really know how that made him feel.
Upon second glance, the building was not, in fact, a house. But rather it was a small cafe that seemed to specialize in tea and bland European desserts, apparently. He wouldn't have considered that a sustainable business model, but hell, what did he know about running a business?
Bakugou stood awkwardly in the doorway as the old man began to bustle about doing who knew what.
"You can sit down, young man," the man prompted while gesturing to one of the tables. He quickly returned to whatever he had been doing without checking to see if Bakugou had listened.
So he decided to just do as he was told and sat down, carefully.
After a few moments, the man returned with two cups of tea and a plate of biscuits on a tray. He placed them down, one in front of the empty chair and one in front of Bakugou with the biscuits in the middle, before returning the tray to the counter and claiming the empty seat across the table as his own.
Bakugou just blinked in surprise, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do in this situation. Normally it would frustrate him to be this clueless in any situation, but for some reason the steam from the tea swirled up in his face and he felt an odd serenity.
He stared at the hot liquid, watching the slight ripples as the man picked up his tea for a sip and placed it back on the wooden table. It was almost mesmerizing, in a way that he couldn't describe.
If the man found Bakugou's spacing out odd, he didn't mention it, "Ah, this tea is called Golden Tips Imperial, did you know?" he hummed before taking a biscuit, "It's quite rare, and expensive, but it's a favourite of a few regular customers of mine, so I can't help but continue to serve it."
If Bakugou had been confused before, he was now downright lost. This stranger just brought him in to talk about tea? What on earth was going on here? And on that note, he should probably try the tea just to not be rude. And the biscuits too, it was free food and he was in dire need of it, even if it didn't exactly fit his diet restrictions. It was better than the nothing he would probably be getting for a while.
He carefully picked up the dainty tea cup as though it were fragile glass, able to break with the slightest touch. To be honest, everything in his hands was susceptible to shatter, even the future he was trying to fix.
He sniffed the steam once more before taking a sip.
Instantly a wave of nostalgia hit him. He recognized this tea, it had been one of Yaoyorozu's favourites.
He remembered on the last day of his house arrest after fighting with Deku, Yaoyorozu had unsubtly left out a cup of this exact tea to make him feel better.
And he was also ninety percent sure that Kirishima had something to do with it as well, but that wasn't the point here.
But damn, it was one of the best cups he'd ever had. He couldn't really explain why but it was the truth.
He set down his cup quickly and covered his eyes with his hands, shaking with the effort to stop the damned tears that he just couldn't seem to keep. Seriously, what was up with him and crying recently?
The man just hummed in response, "You don't need to share what's on your mind, but know that there are people out there who have your back, even when you feel alone with the weight of the world on your shoulders. I don't claim to know anything about you, but even a stranger like me is willing to lend a hand to others. Just like with this tea. It's too expensive for me, and I've been losing profit for months now since a villain attack just recently relocated a lot of the foot traffic in this area. But I know my determined regulars are here for me, and so I will keep serving them the tea they want until I can't anymore."
Bakugou couldn't stop the gasps from leaving his lips, couldn't stop the way his shoulders shook and his toes curled. This stranger just read him like a fucking book and sucker-punched him with advice.
"I have the feeling you're like me, giving until you can't give anymore. But you're so young, you shouldn't think like that just yet. I'm just a decrepit old man doing his best to make the world a little bit better. You have a while before you need to do anything, just relax and people will have your back when you need it, I promise."
He couldn't help but shake his head, not trusting his voice to convey his thoughts without breaking.
"It may not feel like it now, but keep that in mind going forward, young man," the man sipped the rest of his tea and waited silently for Bakugou to pull himself back together.
It took him a few minutes to even his breathing and stop his shaking, but the first thing he said was, "My name… my name is Bakugou Katsuki and I'm-"
He took a deep breath and looked the man in the eyes, "I'm going to be a hero."
The man smiled, "Good luck Katsuki-kun. Don't let this world tear you down. I'll be rooting for you."
The man waved goodbye as Bakugou began his long walk back to a more familiar area.
It was finally a decent hour of the morning and the streets were starting to get a bit more busy the further he walked. The old man wasn't kidding when he mentioned the lack of foot-traffic around his shop. It was kind of depressing, he was a really nice and thoughtful guy.
Bakugou couldn't help but mull over the man's words instead of planning what he was going to do next like a rational person.
A while before he had to do anything? Yeah that was bullshit. The might have be nice, but he was also clueless.
But he couldn't help but feel hopeful when the man had pointed out that other people would have his back when he needed it. He really hoped that would be the case, because it sure as hell wasn't like that at the moment.
Maybe once he was at UA, but for now he had no one.
So he kept walking, letting feet take him wherever despite that being exactly what got him lost in the first place. But when his emotions were all out of sorts and his mind was oddly blank, he had no choice but to let his instincts take over.
After all, they had never failed him before, at least not when it really mattered. That tug in his gut steered him right, but he couldn't help but hate how much he had chosen to ignore it in the original timeline.
So he wandered and wondered, trying to focus on what he should do next, where he should go, but his mind was content to just float off into the distance as though nothing really mattered. His body felt kind of fuzzy and he just sort of existed while simultaneously not existing at all.
It was a weird floaty feeling that he only snapped out of once he felt the presence of another figure following him once more.
What the hell? Was this the same person? How long had he been ignorant of their presence? And why was he not as uneasy as he should be? It almost felt like the presence was familiar in a strange sense of the word, which made no sense at all.
If it was someone he knew, then they would just fucking walk up to him and tell him what they wanted. Everyone who knew him also knew that he hated cryptic bullshit, just fucking be blunt, be direct, and be clear.
So this had to be a stranger then. Maybe an underground hero at the raid had noticed him that one night?
But that was ridiculous, he would have been confronted and arrested at the convenience store otherwise. There was no reason for his stalker to let him go at that point, or even follow him afterward if Bakugou had in fact merely stopped noticing the stalker that night rather than the stalker leaving him alone.
Damn, this was making his head spin. Whatever, he would just pretend to ignore it like last time until he could lose them. But this time, he would remain on his guard to make sure he actually lost them rather than just wrongly assuming he was safe.
He shook his head, trying to get rid of the complicated what-ifs and instead attempted to maintain his focus on his surroundings and his stalker.
The footsteps were practically silent, and had Bakugou used his quirk as much as he had in the original timeline, he wouldn't have been able to hear them at all. He was pretty sure his stalker was sticking to the alleyways, leaving him no choice but to speculate their identity based on known features.
But who was he kidding? Nobody he knew was skilled enough for that, at least nobody he knew as of now. So then who from his future (past?) could follow him and for what reason?
These kinds of musings plagued him all the way until he found himself back in the familiar area near his house.
Well, near but not too near. More like in the general area he tended to stick to when going out on his own.
After all, he hadn't planned on risking an encounter with his mother in the near future.
Before Bakugou knew it, however, the stalker's presence essentially vanished amongst the noises of the populated streets he finally returned to. He hoped that meant he was no longer being tailed, but that could also mean that this stalker was experienced enough to cover his presence within the crowds. Fantastic. With his luck, he was totally screwed.
He had no ideas who this stalker could have been, which meant that he had no way of protecting himself from them. Or just being prepared in the future. Which was the only thing he had going for him at the moment, so the anxiety from that realization was almost crippling.
This day was just getting better and better, wasn't it.
Bakugou huffed and stormed around a corner that led him further away from his house. He almost wanted to go to that convenience store for some shitty instant ramen, but he had to remind himself that he had no money and he would have to pass his house to get there. Going anywhere near there was a bad idea, plus his father would probably check there first.
Probably.
It wasn't like Bakugou was able to predict any of the people closest to him anymore regardless, so what did he know? Nothing.
Right. Money.
He should probably see if he could find something to do for money.
He couldn't help but scoff at himself. What did he know about finding ways to get money? Absolutely nothing.
The teenager could no longer ignore the aching of his bare feet and ankles as he stood in the busy street, getting strange or scathing looks from passerbyers. He had spent a decent amount of time wandering, yet he still hadn't been able to come up with any semblance of an idea of what to do or where to go. So he found himself just wandering to a nearby alley which he knew had a dead-end, and sat with his back against the wall.
Bakugou breathed deeply as he let his head fall back against the cool bricks. He closed his eyes, his cloudy mind imagining him melting into the cool, soft shadows of the alleyway, a good distance from any people or any trouble that he knew he had to face at some point.
It was just so nice to sit and do nothing. But even as a part of him enjoyed it, a small voice—way back in the darkest parts of his brain—knew he couldn't afford to just sit and do nothing. The part of him that never let him forget what he had to do reminded him that one day, the troubles would seek him out, or at the very least they would be shoved in his face where he couldn't ignore or deny them. And he knew, as soon as shit hit the fan, he would be at fault for what he could have done and chose not to do.
He couldn't live with that kind of guilt again. He wouldn't.
He didn't really know how long he sat there for, but he just stayed still, letting the distant ambiance of the busy city fall into the background of his mind. Finally, his thoughts were clear again. He was beginning to wonder if he would be forever stuck in the fogginess of his mind, unable to do his best despite his desperate need to. He was glad that was finally over with, yet the lack of time-perception was also slightly concerning.
Well, maybe this time he could convince himself to be more open to therapy. It was supposed to help, right?
It was worth a try, he supposed.
Bakugou's now clear mind was easy to steer back onto the right track, thinking of places he could possibly sleep. The park was probably out, as this time around, he wasn't naive enough to ignore all of the shady looking people that were probably drug dealers or muggers. Anywhere near his neighborhood was also out, the memory of an "unsavory" character loitering getting the police called on him by a paranoid lady, despite the man actually living in the area and having proof on his person.
There really wasn't anywhere else he could go except school, where he couldn't stay for obvious reasons, or UA, which he wasn't technically a student at yet.
Previously, in the original timeline, at this point he would have simply (and begrudgingly) gone to the Midoriyas' house where he knew he would be greeted with smiles and welcomed with unwavering compassion and endless food. But that wasn't an option anymore, now was it?
Quickly pushing away that train of thought and all the frantic and overwhelming feeling of panic that accompanied, his mind still hung onto the thread of family.
Family.
A home.
Where had he heard that before?
"A dojo is a home away from home, a second family. You might not have stayed here long, especially since it seems that there is not much in the way of fighting I could teach you, but this place is still open for you at any time. There is much more to life than fighting, and we will be here for you if you ever need it."
He could feel his eyes widening and his breath catching in his throat.
That was right, many of the dojos he had been a part of had mentioned that he would always be welcomed back almost unconditionally, despite having only been a paying member for such a short period of time.
The first time around, he had nothing like it. He hadn't even considered that this time would be any different. He didn't even think to take those promises at face value. To him, they had been just empty, insincere words given to placate him after wasting his money at their dojo.
Of course, part of him still suspected that had been the case, and because it had been several years since then, there was even less of a chance that the offer was still withstanding.
But it wasn't as if he had a better option.
So he picked himself up, ignoring the pins and needles dancing up his legs, and began to make his way to his first dojo. The sun was now beginning to lower in the sky and the streets were beginning to clog with rush-hour traffic, but Bakugou couldn't help but feel more free and hopeful than he had been in a long time.
Bakugou didn't notice when a pair of quiet eyes observed him curiously from the rooftops as navigated through the crowds of people, all too busy to spare a second glance at the blonde kid walking around without shoes.