"Why do you always do this?!" Deku screamed, anger flaring in his eyes as he locked eyes with his childhood friend. "You always lose your temper, and I always try to understand, but you just go and do it again—and I can't understand. It's not even because of something triggering it anymore. Can you please, please, explain to me why?" There was a pause before he followed up the sentence, the familiar oh-I-just-thought-of-something gasp coming prior. "…It's almost like you're scared." The last part was spoken quietly, as was the sentence that followed. "What are you scared of?"
"I'm not scared!" Bakugou yelled, "I'm not scared of anything!" The rage was palpable in his voice—Deku knew it was a façade.
"Kacchan, I just want to understand." Deku said softly, hand pulled into his chest as he stepped closer. The last time Bakugou had been this angry at him was back in middle school; it was the kind of rage he used to feel. The rage that made him want to keep him at arm's length, that made him feel safer, even if it cost his dignity, his walls were more important. That's what he used to think anyway.
But now he had two choices:
The first option was he could let his guard down and simply explain why. The pros were that he probably would have a better relationship with Deku (and he did want that?) and he could probably understand himself a little better. The cons were that serious conversations with Deku lead to him feeling small and utterly vulnerable, and he usually felt as if he should be looked down upon for the personal things he was saying to the extent he convinced himself they would, as he had now.
The second option was he could deliberately emotionally sucker punch Deku enough that he would walk away and probably go to his room and cry. As awful as that sounds to any neurotypical person, it didn't sound half bad to him. The apathetic voice in his head was screaming at him to do it. It could easily get him out of this conversation, albeit not long. He would just be prolonging the inevitable, but the inevitable sounded too treacherous to confront.
The choice was whether he wanted to slip back into bad habits—the bad habits that led to his less-than-heroic behavior towards Deku for a decade, or talk about his emotions.
"Fine, I'll talk," Bakugou said as he sat down on the couch they were arguing in front of. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt Deku promptly sit next to him. He slightly opened one of his carmine-colored eyes to see Deku (which he really didn't want to, but he wanted to see his expression), who was wearing a look of interest and concern. He's looking down on you, a voice of insecurity screamed—one that he really wanted to shut up.
He sighed, opened his eyes and tilted his towards Deku. He really didn't want to do this. Words weren't his thing. He'd much rather go into the training room and fight it out, but now he was here, sitting on the couch, looking at a very expectant Deku and didn't know what to say. Unlike for his green-haired nerd king, words didn't just come upon him as a wave does a beach. They come upon him as often as one sees a fish walking down the street. Never, fundamentally.
"What is it exactly that you want to understand exactly?" Bakugou asked, looking at Deku. This would be a start. Once he had more of a core understanding of what he had to explain, it would be easier to put together the appropriate words to address it.
"Why are you so scared of me understanding you, I think…" Deku mumbled, looking quite unsure.
Bakugou wanted so badly to snap at him, so badly his hands were shaking.
But he bit back the venom that wanted to escape his lips and said, "Are you sure?" The words came out worse than he intended to.
"Yes, that's it," Deku replied with confidence. Bakugou was ninety percent sure it was real, so he sighed and rubbed his temple.
Admitting and explaining his fears was a very, very tall order. It put Mount Everest to shame. He was sure Deku understood that, which could truly be the only logical explanation to why he was so patient as he tried to put together the words in his head. So far, he had none. No words. Why did feelings have to be so hard?
"You don't have to think about it," Deku said nervously. Bakugou could feel the fear and hesitation radiating off of him. "Just let what you're feeling come out. Embrace it and say it aloud. There's no logic to it—you just have to let yourself lose control."
He makes it sound so easy.
He makes it sound like a walk in the freaking park.
Well, if Deku can do it and make it look as easy as breathing, he could too. He could do it even better than he could.
So, Bakugou took a deep breath and let what he was feeling out, no control and no filter. "People have always praised me to be someone who's strong, and would be a great hero someday. It was nice, don't get me wrong—but somewhere along the way, I thought that I always had to be strong, because that's who I was meant to be. Someone who's strong. No weakness. My worldview was adjusted to that of the strong were the only ones who mattered, and the weak were to fall by the wayside."
As he came closer to sentience, he couldn't help but want to take a step back from the imaginary unknown territory. The sensation was unfamiliar.
"Whenever I displayed anger or hostility, everyone invalidated my feelings and treated me like I was some kid with a problem. So I figured I would always be treated that way, no matter what I said or displayed. If I showed my innermost feelings, people would just invalidate me and demonize it all the same. So I decided to just not show it."
He felt so small and helpless against Deku's gaze. He couldn't even see him and it was almost crushing.
"I figured no one could understand, so I displayed anger. I pushed everyone away and only kept the people who praised—" he felt Deku's hand reach over his. He looked down to see had been picking at his skin the whole time and accidentally made himself bleed. Apparently, Deku had seen it and stopped him from going farther.
Silently, Deku pulled Bakugou's hand into his lap. The latter did nothing to stop this action, and instead continued.
"—who praised me. It was to feed my own insecurities and keep my inferiority complex away. So, that's why I don't let people understand me. Happy?" Bakugou barked, looking at him for the first time since he started talking.
"No," Deku replied solemnly. His eyes looked so sad. His shamrock eyes held sympathy and hurt for his childhood friend. "No, I… Do you really think I would invalidate you?"
"No," Bakugou replied sincerely. "I don't. But… it doesn't make it easy, either way."
Deku couldn't deny it. "I know," he whispered.
There was a moment of absolute tranquility and peace between them. Deku was softly stroking Bakugou's hand in circles with a gentle smile. Bakugou was relaxing against the couch, enjoying the fact that he felt a bit lighter than he did before.
"Why have you been so irritable lately?" Deku asked, voice sounding so hurt. It made Bakugou's heart ache.
"I… honestly don't know," Bakugou mumbled. "But I'm sorry for taking it out on you." He looked at the other, sincerely apologizing. "I just don't know what to do with all the anger, so I just let it out on the nearest outlet and…"
"…it ends up being me," Deku finished. "It's alright, but we need to get a handle on it, okay? Blowing up on people isn't healthy. You need a better place to let it out."
"I know," Bakugou said in a quiet voice. Guilt was washing over him. If he was alone, this would be the part where he started sobbing till his sclera turned the same color as his iris. But he was in front of Deku, trying to figure out a better way—now was not the time to cry.
"What about the training dummies? Have you tried that?" Deku asked, squeezing Bakugou's hand.
"Yes, I go down there after we're done arguing."
"So… the arguments aren't enough to vent all your anger?" Deku asked cautiously.
"No…" Bakugou replied quietly, leaning his head against the couch.
Lately, the anger had been worse than ever. Calling it anger was underestimating how strong it was. It was more like a scathing, unrelenting wrath. Fighting villains helped him cope, to an extent. But when he came home, the rest seemed to pour out of him like a basin of water filled with holes, except when he came home the basin exploded, making all the water pour out at once. And Deku just had to be unlucky enough to be standing underneath that basin.
He did feel remorse for his actions; truly, he did. He always strived to better the way he spoke to Deku, and always tried to explain how he was feeling, instead of just blowing up. Thankfully, Deku seemed to understand that, or else he wouldn't be helping him.
Bakugou wasn't sure what he would do if Deku fought back, or even abandoned him because he was tired of the constant push-and-pull of their relationship.
Deku did have every right to fight back—and, if he wanted to, he could. But if he did, it would only feed Bakugou's anger and hatred. Patience was key when handling Bakugou's anger, and the green-haired hero knew that. Bakugou was thankful for his sense of empathy, or else they wouldn't have gotten through all the tough spots they had.
But, alas, this just might be the end of them.
Deku pinched his bottom lip in thought. Bakugou could practically see the gears in his head turning, waiting in dread for the muttering to start.
"What relaxes you?" Deku asked suddenly. It was a logical question, all things considered.
Bakugou had to think about it, though. He really didn't have a lot of things that relaxed him. He was good at everything, but there were few things he genuinely enjoyed, much less relaxed him. "Mountain climbing… Spending time alone… Listening to music…"
He couldn't begin to decipher why, but somehow it was humiliating to admit what relaxes him. Maybe he had just admitted too much within one hour and was now feeling the effects of opening up within a short time period. He figured he would feel that numb, monotonous feeling one gets after an emotional episode tomorrow morning.
Deku began to mutter. It was low and unintelligible, but muttering nonetheless.
It wasn't long before he did the oh-I-just-thought-of-something gasp. "Why don't you spend time alone when you get home? Just do stuff you like. We don't have to talk. Until you start to go back to your usual, you should spend time on yourself and try to sort out everything. And if you need anything, I'll be here, of course. I'll just give you space." He paused for a moment, "Would that sound good?"
"That… would be nice, actually." Bakugou replied sincerely. Honestly, a break sounded nice. No, it wouldn't be rid him of the anger he felt—but maybe, just maybe, he couldn't learn to cope with this new level of anger enough to get back to his normal activities. "Thanks…" It always felt weird to thank people, but Deku definitely earned it this time.
"It's no big deal," Deku replied with a broad smile. "I just wish we had come to this sooner."
"Yeah, me too." Bakugou said with a sigh. Relationships were hard. But who was he to jump and leave Deku after all they've been through? "But… I think we'll be better at this, one day…"
"Yeah, I think so too," Deku smiled, assured. "You okay?" he asked, concerned as his childhood friend's expression changed.
Bakugou could feel the tears prick his eyes as he bit his bottom lip, trying to use the physical wound as a silencer to his emotional pain. His breathing became haggard as he buried his face in his hands, having forced his hand away from Deku. His guilt was weighing in his heart, making his chest feel as if it was sagging against the pressure he felt. The pressure was bubbling to the surface, and bit by bit, his defenses were crumbling, and soon there would be nothing left of him.
He was not about to break down.
He was not going to break down.
"Just take a deep breath, Kacchan," Deku whispered, leaning towards him, concerned. "You're alright."
Darn it, why did Deku have to be so good at this?
"You're going to be okay."
There was something about the complete gentleness and kindness in his voice. It wasn't condescending at all. It made one want to believe they were truly going to be okay.
It was the voice of a true hero.
Unlike Bakugou.
"I'm here for you."
"Okay…" Bakugou mumbled, allowing himself to listen to Deku. He let himself listen to his litany of reassuring words and believed them until he was truly alright again. He heaved a shaky breath, making sure he was okay enough to convince Deku. "I need to go to bed," he said, eyes fluttering as he forced himself to stay awake.
"Okay. Good night, Kacchan."
"'Night," Bakugou replied as he stood up and went to his room.
That night, he slept well and without dreams or nightmares.
Bakugou woke up the next morning with the numb, monotonous feeling he thought he would. He had an emotional episode last night, so it was to be expected. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it wasn't a distasteful one either. It was something akin to depression, but it somehow wasn't quite that either. It was closer to comforting than depression would be. He slid out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom to get ready for the day. After accomplishing that, he headed out the door.
Upon becoming a pro hero, he created a ritual—every morning, an hour and thirty minutes before he went to work, he went mountain climbing. He had a lot of good climbing places in the area, so he picked one before he went to bed and climbed it the following morning. It was relaxing and tranquil. He loved it. The mountains he could connect with in a way he couldn't with normal people. Plus, it never hurts to release a few endorphins before starting work.
The best part is that he goes too early in the morning, so no one is out there to bother him or get in the way of his pace.
It's honestly the best part of his day. He looked forward to it every morning.
Now that he had this numb feeling in his chest, it made it somewhat more rewarding. It felt like nothing mattered, so the climb's goal turned into make-myself-feel-again.
He sighed as he stepped out of the car, beginning his climb to the summit. This mountain was harder than others, but enjoyable, nonetheless. There was nothing like a good challenge before fighting villains. Plus, he was good at mountain climbing, as he was at other things, so he didn't necessarily struggle as others did. And, yes, maybe coming out here before the area officially opened was a little illegal, but he needed this like an addict needs nicotine.
Not that he was going to say this aloud, but he enjoyed the view more than anything.
Out here, there were no city lights to block the view, and no other people to disturb the tranquility of just a person and the stars above him. The white lights shined proudly above him, and he couldn't help but admire them. He wondered what it'd be like to do nothing but shine above everyone. No obligations; no stress; just sit and shine. It sounded exceedingly boring but so much easier than dealing with a continual perturbed feeling. He felt pathetic envying giant balls of gas in the sky.
Had he really become that pathetic?
Softly, he grunted as he stepped onto the summit. It was a cliff that sat atop the mountain. He heaved a sigh as he sat down close to the edge, feeling a bit of excitement bubble in his chest when he saw his reward coming into view.
The great part about this trail is that it overlooks the city. One could see everything from here. But it's not the best part. The best part is the great view of the sky, particularly the sunrise and sunset. So, Bakugou couldn't help but crack a smile as he saw the sunrise coming into view.
He now knew from all his climbs up here that it went like this: Sunrises always start with a light blue from the horizon. Slowly, they fade into an odd shade of green, into a purple. It turns into a deep shade of velvet,—by now one could see about one fourth of the sun—then crimson, and finally a bright orange, which means one could see three fourths of the sun before it came completely up and blinded the onlookers. The orange fades into a red along the sides of the city, which makes the view absolutely breathtaking. Bakugou always takes pictures of it, then saves it to a private folder on his phone so no one knows his secret admiration of sunrises, or about the trysts.
He smiled gently to himself. It was a look he only showed when he was alone. He felt the happiness take a place in his chest, and he knew that he was now over his little almost-meltdown last night. He stood up and turned to climb back down the mountain with a little more skip in his step.
He reached the car with ease, now sweating and ready for the day. He drove home and planned what he was going to make for breakfast beforehand. Better to know what he was doing before rather than once in the situation. He wasn't Deku. Upon arriving home, he stepped out of the car and walked inside the house, gently opening the door and sneaking back to his room to change out of his mountaineering gear.
He put on the base of his hero costume and headed back downstairs to start cooking. He got out all the ingredients and started cooking the pancakes, making sure to make them according to Deku's moms' recipe. It was his favorite and, quite frankly, Deku did a great deal for him last night.
He cooked in silence until he heard the sound of light footsteps coming down the stairs. Deku had always had light, quick footsteps. Much different from Bakugou's own heavy ones.
"Kacchan… Are you cooking what I think you are?" Deku mumbled as he rubbed his eyes.
"Depends on what you think I'm cooking." Bakugou replied as he put three pancakes onto a plate.
Deku smiled tiredly and hummed as he sat down at the table. He said nothing as he happily waited for Bakugou to bring his food, smiling more brightly than before and instantly taking a bite. "It's delicious," he said, "Thank you, Kacchan." His green eyes glowed radiantly.
"Of course it is, I made it." Bakugou replied with a fierce smirk. He sat his own plate down on the other side of the small table. They didn't need a big, fancy dinner table—after all, they were the only people that lived there. And, whenever company was over, they tended to occupy the basement, which was in a sense, their game room.
The basement was completely carpeted and huge. There was one big room down that was the designated game room, and served its purpose. The only reason they had bothered to adorn the room with a giant, half-circle leather couch, sixty inch TV, Katsuki's old gaming systems, and a mini fridge was because somehow they ended up being the ones that got roped into hosting Class 1-A's reunions. They do have a big house, yes, but so did Iida, Momo, and Todoroki. Probably because of stupid Deku's thoughtfulness, Bakugou couldn't help but think.
"How are you feeling?" Deku asked, smiling softly at the other. Bakugou didn't miss what he was subtly implying. "Have you recovered from last night?" was the implied question. It was strange that Deku was truly trying to test him this early in the morning.
"Better," Bakugou replied plainly, in between bites.
Deku's smile widened, "I'm glad." They ate in silence for a while before Deku spoke up again. "I…I really am happy. I know you've been struggling lately, so…"
"I know," Bakugou said softly, looking up at him.
"I-I really do worry about you."
"I'm well aware," Bakugou replied, no malice behind his words. There was only understanding in his voice.
"I don't think you are," Deku mumbled, voice shaking. The words caught Bakugou's full attention, eyes narrowing on Deku. "I-I mean, you've been i-irritable all for a while now, a-and all you did was blow up at me." He drew a shaky breath, "I thought it w-was me, that I-I was the problem a-and…" He began to cry, and Bakugou only watched him. He didn't insert any input. "…and it hurt. I'm not angry, b-but…"
"I know," said Bakugou again, this time with more misery in his tone. "I understand. You don't have to explain." He wasn't sure what those words would come across as to Deku, but it truly was his best attempt at comfort. He had never been the affectionate, kind type. He wasn't raised to be kind. He only hoped Deku understood.
Deku nodded vigorously as he wiped his tears. Bakugou knew his anger would take a toll on him at some point. They had been arguing for two weeks straight. It was hard on both of them—Bakugou because the fury he felt was overwhelming, Deku because of the twisted guilt he felt for setting him off.
"I'm sorry," Bakugou said, breaking the silence. "I should've tried to communicate with you. I'll try to do better."
"I-Its okay," said Deku, inhaling lengthily. He had stopped crying, but he was still shaken. "I'm sorry, for crying…"
"Don't apologize," Bakugou ejaculated. "It wasn't your fault."
Deku sucked in another breath, smile returning. "Thank you for breakfast."
"No problem, Deku," Bakugou said as he stood up, taking his and Deku's empty plates to the sink. "Anyway, you should go get dressed and ready. We have an early shift today."
"Right," said Deku as he stood up, heading back to his room and searching for his hero costume.
A part of Bakugou was relieved when Deku left, though he could never explain why. As of late he'd been feeling defensive and, well, fearful, though the f-word is a forbidden topic. He wasn't sure what he had to hide—and if it was even worth hiding—, but he knew something was there, though beneath the surface. Metaphorically, there was a ball of emotions knitted together—like a rubber band ball, all tied up somewhere inside. Though Bakugou chose to detach himself from the emotions.
If it wasn't anger, passion, or confidence, it didn't matter, right?
That's what he preferred to think, anyway.
Somewhere deep in his conscience, he knew where it originated, and why it bothered him so, but he refused that part of his mind. He had no obligation to care, so why should he?
He knew it was a lie.
He growled at his own thoughts as he slid the metal brace on his arm, then the giant gauntlet over them. His gauntlets had gone up in size upon becoming a pro hero, since his Quirk continued to get stronger, his gear should too.
He paced downstairs, now completely dressed, ready for work. He sighed as he walked out the door, heading towards his agency, alone.
When he arrived, he gained nods from the many employees that worked at his agency. Currently, they were in the process of combining his agency with Deku's—seeing as they were hero partners, it only made sense. That meant there were more people at the workplace than usual, rushing by and trying to make all the necessary adjustments and decisions.
Bakugou sighed as he went into his office, arguably the most quiet place in the building. It was quiet when Bakugou wasn't angry, anyway. He heaved a relaxed sigh as he sat down in his office chair, leaning over the desk to look at the paperwork. He always did his paperwork early on in the day so he could go home and rest when he was done with his patrols. Plus, he tended to get called away to missions and interrogations (He couldn't complain about the latter—scaring villains as a job was rather enjoyable) on the regular, so really it was mostly sitting and waiting for a phone call.
The phone call never came, an hour later. Wrothful, Bakugou stood up and paced through his workplace, deciding it would just be better to start patrols. He had nothing better to do—or wait for—after all.
And so, here he was, sitting on the rooftop with one leg carelessly hanging over the edge. He was scanning over the crowds of people walking along the sidewalks, driving down the equally busy streets, aimlessly going about their day. He had never been that careless in his youth—heroes were watchful, after all, so he never had time to be footloose and fancy–free.
Now that he thought about it, he never had a lot of fun when he was young, did he?
He never really did anything self-indulgent. He never went to bars with his friends, never went to parties, never just played. When he was four or five, yes, he played a lot of games. But when middle school came, that was the end of that. He was above playing childish games. He had focused on training and getting into U.A. for all three years. He had also devoted his time to doing less-than-heroic things to Deku, but that wasn't the point right now.
He internally cringed at the thought of his younger self. Gosh, he had been so, so cruel.
He couldn't help but wonder why Deku looked up to someone as despicable as he was. When he looked back, all he could see in himself was a bratty, selfish, angry jerk. No one that was praise-worthy. No one that particularly deserved the admiration that he gave—the forgiveness. All he could hope was that now he was actually worthy of that, if not closer than before. If he asked Deku himself, he would say he was absolutely worthy, and that he shouldn't be so self-deprecating. But to Bakugou, it only felt like the truth. Maybe he would never feel worthy. Maybe he would never truly forgive himself.
He sighed at his own thoughts. He hated contemplating this subject, but whenever he started thinking about it, the object of his thoughts didn't magically go away on its own. Deku always scolded him for feeling guilty about the past, and fervently told him all was forgiven, but he couldn't exactly get rid of the guilt. Perhaps he didn't believe in Deku's forgiveness? Ludicrous, but somehow plausible. Maybe he chose to carry the guilt for some unknown reason? He did not want to think about that or the reasons behind the answer, so he chose to ignore it.
"What are you doing?"
"Surveillance. Why are you here, Icyhot?"
Todoroki nodded and sat down a few feet away from Bakugou on the edge of the building, looking on at the crowd as well. "This is part of my prefecture," he replied after moments of silence. "So I'm just doing my patrols."
"Then why don't you get back to it."
"Because I need a break. Also, you don't look so good."
"Why does everybody keep saying that?" Bakugou questioned, close to yelling. Burning frustration washed over him, face scrunching accordingly.
"Because it's true," Todoroki replied simply, never looking back up at him. "Maybe you should talk about it."
"Don't tell me what to do," Bakugou seethed, but Todoroki remained indifferent.
"It was just an offer, Bakugou," Todoroki said quietly. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. I'm just trying to look out for you."
Bakugou sighed, releasing his anger in the exhale. One of the things he admittedly enjoyed and hated about Todoroki was how calmly he reacted to his anger. When the anger poured out unintentionally, he didn't care, which was nice in those moments. When it was on purpose and he didn't care, it was infuriating. A curse and gift, he supposed. "Whatever," was what he offered as a response.
There was a silence that stretched between them for a while. It was tranquil, without the awkward aspect. Both of them shared the trait of introvert, and they understood that about one another, which created a mutual respect and cognizant that neither wanted or needed to talk.
But, alas, nothing lasts forever. So, that silence was interrupted by Todoroki. "How's Midoriya doing?"
"He's fine," Bakugou replied, shifting his position to cross-legged.
"How are you?" Todoroki asked, shocking Bakugou.
The shocking part was the question in itself. Todoroki never asked Bakugou that. He and Bakugou never shared a very close friendship, though Todoroki did desire that. Bakugou did consider Todoroki to be a close ally, someone he could depend on, someone he did, in fact, trust. Todoroki shared the same opinion of Bakugou.
So, maybe they were friends.
But they didn't really act like it towards each other. At least in the typical sense of friends. They didn't really talk a lot in their private lives, mostly because they didn't have anything in particular to say. It wasn't because of any negative emotion, it's just that neither of them were very talkative in general. But there was a foundation, and there was a mutual understanding.
Maybe their friendship was just weird, but it worked for them.
"I'm fine," Bakugou replied after a short pause.
"You hesitated."
"Because I was surprised."
"Why were you surprised?"
Bakugou scowled and looked away. Todoroki simply stared at him, awaiting a reply.
Todoroki was caught off guard by the notion that Bakugou was surprised, but thinking back, it was plausible.
Whenever something bad happened to Bakugou, everyone usually just said "Don't scare us like that again!" or "We were worried about you!" Never did they ask "How are you?" or "Are you okay?" Deku did ask, of course, but he really was the only one. With everyone else, they assumed he was fine as long as he was yelling or behaving normally overall.
Bakugou was strong, so maybe they always assumed that the measure of his physical strength was the same as his emotional strength.
Maybe that's why Bakugou was closer to Midoriya. Because Midoriya showed concern over Bakugou, unlike everyone else. He had a fundamental understanding of Bakugou that none other seemed to. It wasn't that he underestimated his strength; in fact, it was the opposite. He cared, and he displayed that care through worry. He was a true friend.
What did that make everyone else?
"Do I not ask often?" Todoroki asked, leaning closer to Bakugou.
"Back off, Icyhot." Bakugou growled, sending Todoroki a glare.
"Are you not okay?"
"I said back off!" Bakugou yelled, turning completely toward him, anger showing on his face.
Todoroki stared back, concern etched into his features. "Bakugou."
"What?"
"You know."
Bakugou growled. He did know. But how did Icyhot know? "Shut up."
"You don't have to be defensive." Todoroki said gently.
"Todoroki." Bakugou warned.
"I'm just saying. No one is trying to attack you."
"Todoroki."
"I mean, we all just want to get closer to you. To understand you. You shouldn't shut us out."
"Shoto."
Todoroki was taken aback by the use of his first name.
"That's enough. I get that, okay?"
"Then why don't you act like it?"
"Shoto Todoroki, what did I just say?" Bakugou hissed, dragging a hand down his face.
"I asked a question first." Todoroki stated firmly.
"I'm not trying to shut you out," I just have a hard time showing affection. Bakugou informed, finishing the rest in his head.
Albeit, Todoroki didn't seem to catch on to what he was implying. "Then what are you trying to do?"
"Be true to myself," Bakugou replied sharply.
Todoroki had nothing to say to that. "I'm sorry," he mustered, looking off into the distance. "I had no intention of criticizing you."
"I know," Bakugou said, looking down at the crowds below him. "Like you said, you were only trying to get to know me better."
Somehow, despite his words, Todoroki could see almost hurt in his eyes. Whether it was about what he said or some other reason, he didn't know. "My break is over," he said as he stood up. "Good luck, Katsuki."
"Whatever," Bakugou grumbled as Todoroki left, the latter stepping off the rooftop as quietly as he entered. The former tilted his head back and sighed.
"Then why don't you act like it?"
"Not as if you'd understand," Bakugou grumbled as he looked towards the crowds beneath him again.
"Hey, there's no need to cry, alright?"
The child continued to sob hysterically.
"We'll find your mom, okay? Come on, just calm down and I'll help you!"
"Y-You'll help m-me find mommy?" the child choked out, wiping her tears aggressively.
"Of course!" Deku beamed, nervousness dissipating. "Now, what's your name?"
"Nezuko," the child replied, inhaling shakily.
"Okay, Nezuko, let's find your mommy," Deku said with a smile, offering his hand to the child. Nezuko nodded and accepted the hand. "Where was the last place you saw your mommy?"
Nezuko pointed to the store across the street with a small sniffle.
"Okay, let's go look over there," Deku said gently, carefully pulling her across the street when the signal said it was safe for pedestrian crossing. The pair walked along the crosswalk, but one car didn't seem to stop, as per the law. Upon seeing this, Deku instinctively knelt down to protect the child—by shielding her body with his own.
Though, at the seemingly last millisecond, both Nezuko and Deku felt themselves being pushed away from the car, hitting the cold concrete of the sidewalk.
"You stupid nerd. I take my eyes off you for one freaking second and then you go out and try to get hit by a car. I can't leave you alone anywhere."
"K-Kacchan!" Deku exclaimed happily, "Oh—are you okay, Nezuko?"
"Don't you ignore me!"
Nezuko winced and looked up at Bakugou. "Sir, can you please get off of me?" She reached to push him, but her hands glowed. She seemed startled, letting out a small squeal and trying to pull her hands back to herself, but failing. One of her hands was still touching Bakugou, since she was trying to push him off of her, and the other was relaxed atop Deku's chest.
"Nezuko, is this your Quirk?" Deku asked, disturbed as he tried to pull Nezuko's hand off of his chest, failing.
"I-I don't know! I didn't know I had a Quirk before now!" Nezuko exclaimed, panicked as she tried to pull away from Deku and Bakugou.
"Well, try and turn it off!" Bakugou yelled as he tried to harshly pull Nezuko's hand off of him, failing, as Deku is.
"Don't hurt her!" Deku warned, looking at Bakugou.
"Don't tell me what to do!" Bakugou yelled, stopping what he was doing and looking at Deku.
Stressed. Why do I suddenly feel so stressed? Deku thought to himself, looking down at Nezuko, who practically had tears in her eyes. "It's alright, okay? It should end soon. Just try and calm down, alright?"
"I'm sorry," Nezuko wailed, "I'm so sorry… I don't know what to do, I'm sorry…"
"It's okay, Nezuko, just try and calm down." Deku replied soothingly, trying to appease the girl.
Bakugou sighed, having decided that trying to force the girls' hand away was doing more harm than good. "Okay, just take a deep breath. The faster you calm down the faster we can all get out of this, okay?"
"R-Right," Nezuko murmured, trying to take deep breaths, as Bakugou had instructed.
"Oh—Nezuko, baby!" a female voice exclaimed, the sound of high heels clacking against cement following the worried yell.
"M-Mom?" Nezuko's head turned to the woman, who looked very similar to Nezuko.
"It's me, baby, it's me," the woman assured, reaching for Nezuko as she knelt to the ground. "Everything's gonna be alright, okay? It's just your Quirk. Try to focus and control it, alright?"
"Okay, mom… I'll try," Nezuko said with newfound confidence as she closed her eyes to focus.
Nezuko's mom looked at Deku and Bakugou with a sympathetic smile. "I'm really sorry about this."
"It's no big deal," Deku replied reassuringly, "Accidents happen."
Bakugou scoffed, then looked down to see the light emanating from Nezuko's hands was beginning to dissolve.
"I—I think I'm doing it, mom," Nezuko said with gladness.
"You're doing great, Nezuko. Just keep it up." Nezuko's mom encouraged, sporting a caring smile as she watched the light die until there was nothing left.
Nezuko pulled her hands away from the boys with glee, smiling as she hopped to her feet and hugged her mom. "I did it, mom! I did it!"
Her mom hugged her back and said, "Yes, you did, darling, and you did great." She gently stroked her daughters back before letting go and looking at the heroes, who were awkwardly standing over them. The mother stood upright and smiled. "Thank you for saving her, and I apologize for the trouble we caused." She bowed her head to them.
Deku jumped back, flustered. "No need to apologize, ma'am! It's our pleasure."
"It's fine," Bakugou replied calmly, "But what is your daughters' Quirk?"
The mother stood in thought. "Well, my husband is Quirkless, and by the looks of it I'd say she has my Quirk: Twin Flame."
" 'Twin Flame'?" Deku asked, pulling out a notebook, deeply interested.
"Yes. My Quirk has the ability to connect two people to be like that of a Twin Flame connection. If the two people aren't already Twin Flames with one another, then any connection with their original Twin Flame will be severed and rekindled with the person I connected them to. If they are already Twin Flames, then the connection will be made stronger and more intimate than before."
The woman paused briefly to pick up her daughter, who had been pulling at her pants leg worriedly. "Though, I have to be touching the two people in order to do it, and it has to last for more than a minute to be made official. Nezuko did both of those things, so it's safe to say you're now Twin Flames."
Deku and Bakugou took a moment to look at each other, both sharing a weary look. "So, you're saying," Deku spoke, "that we're now connected via soulbond? And that we have no idea whether we had a Twin Flame bond before?"
"Yes, sorry," Nezuko's mother sighed. "But I should tell you about the side effects of my Quirk before you—"
Unfortunately, before Nezuko's mother could delve into the details of her Quirk, a loud, thundering crash followed by a scream interrupted her.
Bakugou grunted and sighed. "I'll check it out." He turned toward the direction of the noise, pressing his arms back and preparing a string of explosions.
"I will too," Deku announced, following suit.
Bakugou glared at Deku. "No. You stay here and learn the details of the Quirk, understand? I'll be checking it out."
"But, Kacchan—"
"No buts, Deku," Bakugou snapped as he propelled himself into the air with his explosions. With the first few, he was careful to keep them small because he was closer to the road and civilians; though, once he got into the air, he allowed them to be bigger because he didn't have to worry about breaking anything.
Deku sighed and smiled at Nezuko's mom. "So, what were you going to say about your Quirk?"
"Well, like you said, I have a soul-bond Quirk," Nezuko's mom replied, "So, you'll have a deeper connection with, ah… Kacchan?"
"That's right," Deku said, writing down in his notebook. "Define 'deeper connection'?"
"Well, you see…"
Deku was looking over his notes about the Twin Flames Quirk at the end of the day when Bakugou walked into the house. He knew because he always slammed the front door closed so hard, the whole house vibrated thanks to the force. Deku subconsciously wanted to jump up and ask him about his day, but he remembered their agreement from the night prior and forced himself not to, though he longed for it. He looked down at his notes again and organized them into his main notebook.
He kept a special notebook with him when he was doing hero work because most of the time he had to jot them down on the spot and they weren't organized or arranged how he usually had them, so he would copy the notes and place them in his main notebook so he could have it how he liked. When he had told Kacchan that he called him an 'OCD nerd'.
Deku chuckled at the memory. Kacchan always knew how to make him laugh.
He looked down at his finalized notes with satisfaction, reading over everything one more time.
Quirk: Twin Flames
Description: Has the ability to connect two people with the connection like that of a twin flame. If the two people are already each other's twin flames, then the connection grows stronger and more intimate. But the user has to touch the two people for over a minute; also, this can be forced upon two people.
Symptoms:
The two people will begin to feel each other's emotions. The stronger the emotion(s), the more the opposite will feel. The original holder of the emotions will usually feel less while the other will take more of the brunt; though, this is only true if the emotion is incandescent.
They will feel each other's physical pain, if the pain is strong enough. This is usually an exchange; the other (the one without the injury) will feel the "edge" of the pain, releasing the original holder of some of the pain.
They will long for each other's company. If the other is gone too long, the abandoned will fall into involuntary depression. They may even long for the other's touch. And if the pair argues, they will feel growing emotional pain due to longing—even if neither of them actually feel hurt. The longer the conflict lasts, the worse the pain gets.
On the topic of pain, twin flames reflect one another just by being together. The good and the bad get reflected, so the pair may feel "provoked" by being around one another. They may also feel emotional pain from past experiences/emotional scars resurface involuntarily. This can come between the two, and initiate the "runner and chaser" stage.
Because the Twin Flame power is a type of soul-bond, they may feel comforted just by being in the other's company. Seeing the other may feel like the equivalent of "coming home" due to the fact that the other is a physical part of you.
Lastly, if one of the connected dies, the living will lose a part of themselves, and forever have a hole in their soul where their partner was. They will also lose half their lifespan because of this.
Deku winced at the last sentence. He would have to make a point not to die, not to get hurt, and to try and control his emotions so that he didn't bother Kacchan, who would not be happy upon reading this. Sighing, Deku closed the notebook and flopped back on the bed. He then shifted to his normal fetal position, trying to relax. His arms were aching from overuse, but he had already taken as much pain medication as he could. He flexed his fingers up and down with a soft groan, trying to stretch the muscles as well as he could to try and be rid himself of the pain.
A knock on the door distracted him from his task. "Come in," he yelled, hearing Bakugou's familiar sigh upon seeing all the hero merchandise in his room. "What is it, Kacchan?"
"Did you take notes on the Quirk that lady had?" Bakugou asked, leaning against the doorway.
"Yeah, let me show you," said Deku as he rolled over, picking up the notebook lazily and flipped to the page. "Here," he said, holding out the notebook to him. Bakugou accepted the notebook and sat down, reading over the page with a pensive look.
Deku felt fear shoot through him instantaneously. He knew Kacchan. He knew Kacchan would get mad because he would no longer have emotional privacy. He knew Kacchan would blame him for being reckless, and say it was all his fault for trying to help the little girl, and that he would just mind his own business. He knew it would delve into an argument, and then they would both feel pain because of conflict, and it would just be a huge mess that would take forever to clean up. He knew Kacchan would probably never forgive him for it, and—
"Stop freaking out," Bakugou stated firmly, having closed the notebook and set it next to him, glaring deeply at Deku.
Deku flinched under the weight of the glare and looked down at the comforter below him. "S-Sorry…" Right. He could probably feel my panic…
"Listen," Bakugou breathed out, "for this to work out, we're both going to have to get a hold of ourselves and our emotions. This isn't going to be easy—not by any means, but we're in this now, and we're not getting out of it. It's irreversible. So, you're going to have to control your anxiety, and I'll control my anger, okay?"
"Alright," Deku mumbled. "But that's not going to be easy for me…"
"I know, and I'm not saying make it magically disappear," Bakugou answered, "But to keep it… manageable. I'm not used to it."
Deku hadn't thought about that. "Right. And I'm not used to your anger…" he said, reflecting upon the incident earlier that day in which he yelled at Uraraka. She hadn't said anything offensive, really, but Deku just felt irrationally annoyed by the fact she sounded so happy.
Was that how Kacchan felt all the time?
"So we'll control it," Bakugou asserted, crossing his legs. "But first, let's take care of this." he said as he grabbed Deku's arm, yanking Deku to an upright sitting position.
"W-What are you doing?" Deku exclaimed, holding back a groan from how harshly he'd yanked his sore arm.
"Helping. Now, shut up and sit still." Bakugou replied harshly. He grabbed his arm with both hands and started massaging it. Deku thought he was dreaming, but it really was real. Bakugou was actually bothering to ease his pain. It all seemed so… surreal. He couldn't hold back a moan as he relaxed against his touch. It felt so good to have his aching, tight muscles finally relax and be soothed.
"Why are you doing this?" Deku asked, watching Bakugou's hands move down to his elbow.
Bakugou didn't stop the massage, but he did begin to think. It was impulsive, wanting to help Deku. Soothe his pain. Make him feel better, both emotionally and physically. But it was weird too; he scarcely was ever impulsively kind outside of hero work. Somehow, he got a sense of pleasure and pride from helping Deku. It made him feel like he was finally doing something right.
"Because I'm selfish," Bakugou ejaculated.
"I'm being serious, Kacchan!" Deku yelled vociferously, suddenly angry.
Bakugou could've sworn he could feel his wroth transfer into Deku. "I am too. I'm doing this because it makes me feel better."
"You're doing this because… you don't want to feel my pain?"
"No."
"Then what do you mean by selfish?"
"I mean… I'm doing this because it makes me feel better. Literally. It makes me feel better about myself to help you." Bakugou could swear on his life this was the most sincere thing he'd ever said to Deku.
"So… you're being kind?" Deku said, holding back laughter.
"What? That's not kind."
"Kacchan, kindness always makes the person you're helping and the person doing the helping feel better. That's what's so great about it." Deku said, then began to laugh.
"That's the most terrible thing I've ever heard," Bakugou replied, now massaging Deku's forearm.
"Well, I guess you could say kindness is something of a selfish art," Deku said, laughter now reduced to small giggles and chuckles. "The more people you help the better you feel."
Bakugou sighed. "So you help people to make yourself feel better?"
"I help people because the look on their faces when you save them is something everyone should experience," Deku replied, smiling to himself. "Also, it's always been my dream to save people with a smile."
Bakugou wasn't sure how to reply to that, so he went with sarcasm. "Don't have to tell me twice. It's all you yapped about when we were kids." He was now massaging Deku's hand.
Deku laughed. "Well, that's all I could think about. Heroes, saving people… it was just so amazing. And it still is!" He smiled with excitement and eternal infatuation with heroism.
Bakugou could feel Deku's excitement just talking about heroes. It felt good, for some reason. He'd never felt that kind of excitement before. "I thought I was the amazing one. Traitor."
"You are amazing, Kacchan!" Deku exclaimed, smiling.
Bakugou suppressed a smile. "Whatever, nerd. Give me your other arm."
Deku lifted his other arm towards him. "I mean it, Kacchan. You're amazing."
"I heard you."
"But you don't believe me."
Bakugou sighed, "I do believe you, and I think you're amazing too."
Deku's smile grew as his eyes widened in shock. "Y-You think I'm amazing?"
"I'm not going to repeat myself."
"Kacchan thinks I'm amazing," Deku mumbled happily, blushing with excitement, similar to when he talks about heroes.
"Relax. Your muscles are tightening again," Bakugou chided, keeping his head low to hide the smile on his face. He could feel Deku's happiness very strongly, and it seemed to like to manifest itself externally, too.
"Oh—right! Sorry," Deku said, relaxing, though still smiling so brightly and happily. It was almost a sense of euphoria he felt, having Kacchan call him amazing. He was not going to be sleeping tonight; he was too happy and excited. And, honestly, what better reason was there not to sleep. He felt Kacchan's thick fingers dig into the muscle on his elbow, watching his fingers work into the tight fiber. "You're awfully good at this."
"Well, you're not the only one with sore muscles," Bakugou replied flatly, focusing on Deku's arm.
"What?"
"You think I don't feel the backlash of my explosions? I haven't had a day since I got my Quirk that my shoulders, arms, or hands didn't ache." Bakugou stated nonchalantly.
"That's terrible!" Deku exclaimed, "I can massage you. Tell me what's hurting."
"No way I'm letting you touch me, let alone massage me." Bakugou asserted, glaring up at him.
"Come on, I let you massage me!" Deku lamented, poking his bottom lip out.
"No."
"Please."
"No."
"I promise not to tell anyone!" Deku affirmed beggingly.
"…"
"I swear, I won't!"
Bakugou thought for a moment. Honestly, his hands had been aching constantly all week, and was only worsening over time. He sighed heavily, looking up at an expectant Deku. "When I'm done. When I'm done, you can massage my hands. But if you do it wrong, I'll never let you massage me again; and if you tell anyone, it will have the same result, understand?"
"Yes, crystal clear!" Deku replied, smiling excitedly as Bakugou worked his way down his forearm. The green-haired hero hadn't felt this relaxed and loose in a while, and honestly, it felt amazing. He had the sensation that he could do just about anything with this newfound liberation of pain. Being freed of the smarting in his fingers felt fantastic. Due to the fact that in his youth he'd frequently broken his fingers because of his ignorance toward controlling his Quirk, he now faced the consequences via aches and smarts.
He remembered the day Kacchan had found out he'd had a Quirk. He was furious. If it weren't for Aizawa, he would have killed him for it. He remembered the hurt he felt when Kacchan had assumed he'd kept it a secret, and that he thought Deku had been looking down on him the entire time. He thought he had made it clear he looked up to him, and in fact thought he was amazing.
He wasn't sure why he would jump to that conclusion, but Kacchan was different now, so it doesn't matter, right?
"I'm done," Kacchan asserted flatly, looking at Deku with a sigh.
"Great! Give me your hand," Deku replied happily, stretching out his hand to receive Bakugou's. The latter complied, allowing the back of his hand to rest against Deku's palm. Deku gently took his other hand and began to massage his, pressing his fingers into the tightened muscle and fiber. Bakugou had thick skin on his hands, so it was rather hard to push through it, but Deku persevered. Once he understood just how much pressure to exude, it was rather easy.
Bakugou was admittedly enjoying the affection, though there was a part of him that was slightly disgusted at the intimacy. No one ever really touched him like this—not even his family. And he didn't let them, either. But right now his hands ached and hurt, so he allowed the intimacy just this once. As much as he hated it, Deku really was good at it. He was expecting the nerd to suck at it and hurt him, but he was really relaxing against his masterful rubdown technique.
Deku heard Bakugou loudly groan when he hit a knot (of muscle) near one of his callouses. "I'm sorry," Deku said sympathetically. Bakugou assured him it was fine, but Deku simply sighed in return. "I'll have to work it out. This is gonna hurt."
"Okay."
Deku bit his bottom lip and started putting pressure on the knot, hearing Bakugou groan but made no other lament as he massaged the spot. "Sorry," Deku repeated as he rubbed the sore spot, wincing in sympathy as he pushed into it. Bakugou said nothing, only closing his eyes and evening his breathing as he pressed into the knot.
Deku focused his strength into unwinding the knot as he pressed through the blonds thick skin. It was hard, to say the least, trying to appease the constriction. It was deep and had probably been there a while; Deku could only imagine how painful it had been for Bakugou, living—using his Quirk—with the tightly knitted muscle and fiber beneath the surface of his skin. As he massaged through the knot, he would occasionally hear Bakugou wince or groan, and Deku couldn't help but mutter an apology. Deku himself has had a few knots in his arms and shoulders before, so he knew firsthand how painful it is.
"Okay, I'm done," Deku announced, letting go of Bakugou's hand. The latter sighed and mumbled an "Okay," before lifting his other hand out to him. Whilst Bakugou was doing this, Deku reached into his dresser drawer and pulled out a small, handheld heater and placed it in Bakugou's already massaged hand. "That should help loosen the knot." he mumbled before grabbing Bakugou's other hand, giving it a rubdown.
Somehow, this hand was somewhat more constricted. Accordingly, Deku had a harder time massaging through the muscles in the hand. Though, as hard as it was, he could feel how relaxed Kacchan was compared to when he was massaging the other hand; he had grown accustomed to the affection, apparently. Or perhaps he considered this to be a boon to him, and he was only relaxing because it was beneficial to him—he only wanted his pain eased. Deku frowned. He didn't think it was true; sure, Kacchan hadn't always been fidus Achates, but he had changed. He had been faithful many times—there was even a couple of times when Kacchan had taken a fatal hit for him.
That's something middle school Kacchan wouldn't have done.
Kacchan had massaged his arms for him simply out of kindness, even if the man himself only considered it to be selfishness. It was slightly amusing to Deku how self-deprecating Kacchan was, despite his ego and pride. He only really took pride in his abilities as a fighter; he'd never taken pride in his own personality. And maybe that would never change. But nonetheless, Deku wasn't going to stop believing in him. If Bakugou wouldn't believe in himself, he would believe in him.
Likened to how Bakugou worries over him because Deku doesn't worry about himself, the latter was going to believe in the former.
"What's with that look on your face? Thinking about your crush, Uraraka?" Bakugou teased, sporting an impish grin.
"Wha—" Deku mustered before blushing furiously. "No! We're just friends, you know that!"
"Sure you are," Bakugou smiled playfully. "Is that why you always blush and stutter around her?"
"W-Well…" Deku didn't know how to explain that he still got nervous around girls.
"If that's not it, then why did you look like a lovesick puppy?" Bakugou joked, but Deku took him seriously.
"I was thinking about you."
"That fondly?" Bakugou questioned, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"Well, of course," Deku replied, small smile painting his lips. "I mean, you know how much I look up to you. We were just talking about how amazing you were a second ago."
"Stalker."
"Jerk."
"Fair." Bakugou admitted, sighing.
Deku felt a slight sting of hurt that most obviously wasn't his, making himself feel guilty. "You know I was kidding, right?"
"What do you think I am, an idiot?"
"You just answered a question with a question." Deku pointed out, eyes narrowing.
Bakugou sighed. "Yes, I know you were kidding."
Deku looked up at him for a moment before looking back down at the hand he forgot he'd been massaging. Quietly, he continued his task, mind running as he tried to decide whether or not he should continue; whether he wanted to say what he wanted, or swallow it back down. He took a deep breath and gained his composure, having made his decision and looking up at Kacchan. "Y'know," he began, "ever since we got hit with the Twin Flames Quirk, I've been feeling this heavy emotion in my chest. Constantly, I feel like my chest is gonna collapse in on itself from the sheer weight of the emotions on my heart, and it hurts. I didn't feel it before we got hit by the Quirk, so I think it's coming from you."
"That's a brave assumption," Bakugou replied, looking down at his hand and not at Deku.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Deku asserted firmness in his voice and posture.
"…"
"Just tell me why," Deku pleaded, concern in his gaze.
Katsuki Bakugou, please vacate the area. Danger is near.
That's how Bakugou felt. He felt as if danger was close, a hair's length away and he was scared. He needed an out. To escape the situation. He needed to get away from Deku. He didn't need to tell the truth to him, because if he did, their whole relationship would (probably) shatter. And, quite frankly, he needed Deku like an alcoholic needs… well, alcohol.
But, he also knew, he shouldn't treat the situation like an escape room; after all, Deku deserved to know the truth.
Truthfully, Bakugou was terrified of what Deku would say. Yes, he would have every right to be angry with him. Yes, he, in fact, should be mad about what happened.
Yes, Deku would be mad that Bakugou lied about the Borogh incident.
"…I can't."
"Why can't you?" Deku asked, gently caressing Bakugou's hand. He was no longer massaging it; just gently stroking it out of worry.
Bakugou bit his bottom lip, looking down as he felt his burden grow heavier with guilt.
"Please," Deku begged, worry taking over, "I want to help. I can feel what you feel. I can feel your guilt, your hurt, your sorrow, your anger.
"I want to unburden you of all of it."
Bakugou drew a slow inhale. "You won't want to after I tell you."
"You know nothing you say or do can keep me from coming back to you."
Bakugou shook his head, but Deku smiled gently and moved one of his hands to gently touch his cheek. "Please, tell me. I can help you."
Bakugou raised his head to look at Deku, making his carmine eyes meet Deku's shamrock green; the latters eyes were shining brightly with eternal youth and limitless joy, innocence that intrigues one to trust and become a part of a world of wonder and love, while the formers eyes were deep and ominously filled with an continuous dark fog of guilt, shame and relentless anger paired with sorrow. Any sign of past passion and confidence was buried beneath pools of negative emotion that was seemingly endless and well-hidden like a secret tryst between devoted lovers.
It made Deku's heart ache to see how much pure emotion had shattered his seemingly unbreakable childhood friend, and it made him wonder how long had this been going on, alongside, How did I not see it?
Deku mentally shook those thoughts away, keeping his eyes trained on Bakugou's devastated carmine. "Let me in," he whispered, voice soft and gentle.
Bakugou whimpered, looking away timidly. "You'll hate me."
"No," Deku shook his head, gentle smile never fading. "You know I could never hate you."
Bakugou heaved a shaky breath, leaning his head into Deku's hand. "Do you remember the Borogh city incident?"
"Well, I remember what you told me," Deku replied, "I still don't have any recollection of it."
The Borogh incident had been horrible. The death toll was way too high; the toll itself consisted mostly of civilians, but the rest were heroes. A quarter of Japan had been destroyed in the attack, and the price to rebuild had been great. Deku had been one of the first to arrive on the scene when the villains came, and Bakugou had followed him, apparently. Deku couldn't remember the entire day of the attack. When they arrived the battle instantly initiated, and Deku was told he'd saved a lot of people, as did Bakugou.
Deku had attained a terrible head injury during the attack, so he didn't remember what happened, and only put the pieces of what people had told him together. The memories never returned; he could only hope the things people told him had been true.
The incident had happened a month ago, and the rebuilding and searching for survivors was still going on. Deku and Bakugou were called there sometimes, though most of it was handled by search-oriented heroes (Tentacole, Earphone Jack, Anima). The villain had been caught and all was well, but apparently something had happened.
"Did you not tell me something?" Deku questioned, eyes narrowed.
Bakugou whimpered and looked away.
"It's okay, just tell me what it is," Deku reassured. This, apparently, was sensitive to Kacchan, which meant he was going to have to watch his wording, or else he'll never find out the truth.
Bakugou heaved another breath, tentatively continuing. "During the fight, something happened…" he paused, mustering the courage to speak. "I…I accidentally blew up a section of building, a-and the remains fell. But there was a person underneath the rubble, and you dove to catch them. Instinctively, I followed you and saved you… and left the civilian there to die."
Deku's breath stopped in his throat, eyes widening.
"Todoroki came and saved the civilian, fortunately. But… I'm sorry for leaving the civilian…"
Anger boiled in Deku. He wanted so badly to yell at Bakugou and question why he would ever do such a thing. But he didn't. He stopped himself, looking at Bakugou's fearful carmine eyes. There was real, true remorse behind those eyes.
He was sorry for leaving the civilian, and everything was fine…
"Thank you for apologizing… just don't do it again, okay?" Deku eventually said, heaving a heavy sigh.
"If you're mad, just say it," Bakugou ejaculated, voice shaking. His emotions were breaking into the surface by force; it was something akin to a beast beneath a frozen lake, scraping and stabbing its way to the world above. In this metaphor, the lake would be the reservoir where Bakugou keeps his emotions, the ice would be Bakugou's defenses, and the world above would be Bakugou.
Deku's lips formed a thin line. "I am frustrated with you for deliberately leaving that person to die, but… I do understand. I would probably act recklessly if I saw you in immediate danger too." His hands shook. "You're genuinely sorry, and the civilian is safe, so there's no need to be angry." He paused before continuing. "But you did lie, and I am mad about that."
"That's fair," Bakugou replied, shrugging.
"Why are you always so scared of my reactions to your feelings? I want you to be open and honest with me." Deku questioned, eyes narrowing as he tried to read Bakugou's expression.
Bakugou looked down, collecting his thoughts. He knew the answer. He'd known for a long time. He was scared. He hated to admit it—or even think it—but it was true, and there was no denying it.
He was scared of Deku being angry at him, leaving him.
And maybe it was codependency, or an unhealthy need to be validated by him, causing his fear of invalidation, hatred, and abandonment. He hated the thought of it, but here he was now, petrified of the thought of telling him how scared he was of angering him, eventually losing him.
But Deku had been a constant in his life; his eternal confidant, someone he considered trustworthy. And losing him was simply… impossible.
Bakugou heaved a shaky breath. It was now or never, he supposed. "I'm scared of making you angry. Losing you…"
That had caught Deku off-guard. "You—really?"
Bakugou looked down, blushing furiously.
"Well, that's fine, I guess. But listen—you shouldn't be scared of that. Like I said before, nothing you say or do can keep me from coming back to you."
Bakugou nodded.
"Remember that next time you're scared to tell me something, okay?"
"I will…"
Deku chuckled. "It's past your bedtime again. You should go to sleep."
Bakugou nodded and stood up, looking at Deku and softly saying, "Thank you… for everything."
"Of course."