A/N: Antagonizing Katsuki is fun.

That is all

XXX

Katsuki's point of view- Friday

I'm practically running back to my dorm room, flashing past all the extras and not even bothering to so much as growl at the ones who try to greet me as I go. Finally, I make it to my door, fumble with my keys until I get the right one in the lock- so fucking annoying- and charge in to grab my black overnight duffel bag from underneath my bed. My room's a blur, I'm grabbing clothes, boxers, pajama pants, toiletries, all of the bottles necessary for my morning and evening skincare routine- healthy skin is fucking important to me, okay?- until finally, I grab the comic book Deku and I made together.

The sound of my bag zipping closed is music to my ears. I slip the longer strap over my shoulder and rest my right arm against the front while going through a quick mental checklist of everything I needed to pack. Shit to wear- check. Shit for hygiene- check. Face shit- check. Comic book- check. My phone is in my pocket… and I forgot my charger. Motherfucker. I stomp over to the annoyingly necessary white cord, yank it from the outlet, and stalk towards my door as I stuff the thing into my bag.

With everything packed, I'm running down the stairs because that fucking elevator is way too slow, and right as I finally make it to the door, I hear Shitty Hair calling to me. If it were any other fucking extra, I'd tell him to eat shit and leave but it's not any other extra. Cursing under my breath, I slowly turn to meet his gaze. He's wearing black and red lounge pants decorated with Crimson Riot's logo and a red tank top. The cottony material of his tank is soaked and I'm guessing he just finished an intense workout session.

"Hey man, I just wanted to apologize again for, well you know, punching you in the face like that. It was so uncool of me. I was just excited to try out my new moves, but anyway, yeah. Sorry bro." He's playing with the hem of his shirt while he's talking, like he can't bring himself to make eye contact with me.

"I said you don't have to fucking apologize, Shitty Hair. You landed a good punch and I wasn't paying attention." Why does everyone need me to hold their hands? I thought we cleared this already.

"Yeah, I just feel bad. But I guess if you're sure-"

"YES, I'M SURE!"

"Okay, okay. Got it." Just then his eyes drop to the bag over my shoulder and I brace myself for more mindless rambling. "So…" Here we go. "I see you have a night bag packed. Where are you going?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm going home to spend time with my folks."

"Ah, okay. Well-"

"Shitty Hair… I'm in a fucking hurry. Spit it out already."

"Right, um…" Oi, why me? "You've been acting really strange lately and I know I said it before but I'm here if you ever wanna talk. I get that you're a private person, you don't really like to share, but I'm here for you just the same. I guess that's it."

Well shit… "I know Shitty Hair. Thanks." This got way too fucking personal way too fast.

With a curt nod, I turn around and head out the door. The sun is already making its descent, casting looming shadows over the ground in front of me. If I move quickly, I should be home before sundown. Better text the Hag to let her know I'm coming. I don't need her giving me an earful of shit like last time.

Me: Hag, I'm coming home

She replies immediately which makes sense because it's not like she's got anything better to do. She and Pops are probably cleaning up after dinner or watching some ridiculous fashion-centric documentary on Netflix.

Old Hag: You got money on you?

Me: The fuck you asking for?

Old Hag: Don't be such a disrespectful little shit

Old Hag: Pick up some tea on your way home. We're out.

Old Hag: Think you can handle that, Brat?

Me: GET YOUR OWN DAMN TEA

Old Hag: GET THE TEA OR I'M CHANGING THE FUCKING LOCKS

Old Hag: How do you like that you brat?

Me: What kind do you fucking want?

Old Hag: YOU KNOW WHAT KIND OF TEA WE DRINK IN THIS HOUSE

Me: For fuck's sake

Me: Fine

Clearly, I made a mistake when I chose to announce I was on my way home. If it were any later, I would tell her to fuck off, I've got important shit to do today. At least the 7-eleven is on the way home. That asshole is lucky she birthed me because otherwise I'd have exploded her into a million pieces by now.

Old Hag: By the way, we aren't home

Old Hag: Out to dinner, but there's leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry.

Me: SO WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU GET YOUR OWN DAMN TEA

Old Hag: Because I have an ungrateful brat like you who can get it for me

There is not a healing quirk in existence that could absolve me of the fucking migraine I have right now. Jesus fucking Christ.

Two fucking hours later, and if you're wondering, the answer is yes, all the fucking fucks are fucking necessary, I'm finally walking through the entrance of my house. It's dark and unusually quiet, but then again, the Hag isn't here so it would be quiet without her incessant screeching. After making my way to the kitchen, I flick the light on and put the Hag's tea away. I'm not even slightly hungry so I head to my bedroom to unpack and prepare to head over to Deku's place again.

Hopefully this time I'll find what I'm looking for, though I have no fucking clue what that actually is anymore. I still have no idea why I even give a shit or why I'm putting so much of my energy into figuring out Deku of all people. I should be training or studying or doing absolutely anything else, but instead I'm here, working off a persistent hunch that may or may not evolve into something worth my effort.

As I head down the staircase, I pointedly ignore the wall of pictures and go directly to the front door. I don't have time to mill through memory lane again. Right as I'm about to leave I notice a small, cherrywood end table positioned in front of a window next to the door. That end table has always been there, decorated simply with a crystal vase filled with silk, white tiger lilies. What isn't always there is the picture frame setting next to the vase.

Slowly, I walk over to pick it up, brushing my thumb over the textured frame as I hold it. Confused, I tilt my head and furrow my brows as I stare at a picture of Deku and Auntie. I can't make out where they are, but it's of the two of them sitting together by a window. Auntie is kissing his freckled cheek meanwhile Deku is smiling brightly at the camera. His skin is pale, and he looks tired, but the happiness is there, nevertheless. I know my parents are close with the Midoriya's but it's odd that this picture is here and in such a prominent place. My fingers itch to pull out my phone and text the Hag about it but I resist.

There's a new fire lit under my ass now as I run to Deku's place with urgency. Too much weird shit has been going on and I need to get to the fucking bottom of it. First off, every person from that part of my life is acting weird as fuck. The nerd seems off, his mom was suspicious as hell when I spoke to her last, my parents apparently called her when I was on my way last weekend which tells me they're in on it, and now there's that random ass picture that is definitely recent, sitting right by the fucking door, taunting me.

It's completely dark out now, the crescent moon is barely visible, leaving me with the yellowed hue of the streetlights to illuminate my path. The rhythmic sound of my sneakers tapping along the pavement as I run is somewhat cathartic, especially when combined with the peaceful quiet nighttime brings. Before I know it, the large row of apartment complexes comes into view and I continue to hurry along until I'm once again standing in front of their door. It's late enough that there's no way they aren't home, and I wait impatiently after ringing their doorbell.

A few seconds pass and I start tapping my foot, a few seconds more and I'm rocking up and down on my feet. By the time a minute passes I'm hopping and wriggling around like a brat doing the piss dance. Are they seriously not home- I grab my phone to check the screen- at fucking 7:30 in the evening? I do not have the patience for this today. I ring the doorbell again and follow it with three hard knocks of my fist against the wood. If someone doesn't open this door right the fuck now, I'm going to blow it to smithereens.

"Ahem… excuse me, but can I help you with something there, young man? You're making such a loud racquet and people are trying to settle in for the night." An older guy steps into view from two doors down. His hair is mostly grey and there's a prominent bald spot on top of his head. His spectacles slip low on his nose and he pushes them up with his index finger in a way that reminds me of four eyes. He's scrutinizing me carefully, cell phone in hand and at the ready, probably in case I happen to be a lunatic. I know just the thing to say in this kind of situation.

"None of your fucking business old man. Go back inside and do some crossword puzzles or some shit." Showing a strong disinterest around others is a sure way to get them to leave me alone. The frown he's now wearing tells me I've annoyed him. Good.

"Well now, that's rude. Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

Smirking with smug satisfaction, I reply coolly "Nope. The old Hag has no filter and swears like a sailor. Where the fuck you think I got it from?"

He laughs at that; the joyful sound is unexpected, and I look over to him like he's crazy because he just might be. I'm not sure what to do now, most strangers fuck off at this point. "I suppose you're looking for Izuku? He does talk about a fiery, ill-tempered blond on occasion. You must be Kacchan?"

I don't know what to do with the load of information he just dumped on my lap. The nerd talks about me to random neighbors? What the fuck? "Oi! Only the nerd calls me that. It's Bakugou Katsuki."

"Ah, excuse me Katsuki. I'm Fujino Tatsumi."

"I didn't fucking ask-"

"It would be rude for me to know your name but not offer mine in return." He closes his door behind him and takes a step toward me and I have to force myself not to step back. "So then, I suppose I should tell you the Midoriya's are not home and Inko won't be back until noon tomorrow."

Why am I not surprised? It would have been too easy for either of them to be home and lately life doesn't want to make things easier for me. Alright life. Challenge fucking accepted. "Are you going to tell me where they are?"

"If you don't already know then I can't help you, I'm afraid."

"Why the hell not!?"

"It isn't my business to share that information. You'll have to ask Inko tomorrow if you're still in the area." He shrugs like it's no big deal and not the source of a week's worth of restless nights and nagging suspicions. "It was a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure I'll see you again." He turns to walk back in his home but stops short, turning his head slightly in my direction. "Izuku is a kind, gentle soul. Be good to him Katsuki." Having given his "sage" advice he closes the door behind him without a second thought.

Never in my life have I ever been left completely speechless like this. I must have slipped into the twilight zone or something because this is all just too much to process and it's infuriating. I'm so confused and rattled; I feel like I could light my fucking hair on fire and that in and of itself would be more normal than this shit. I decide to go back home for the night, but Inko can be damned sure I'll be back at noon tomorrow and I expect some answers.