I'd like to thank milkmankags, hhaa, and Ghost529, all from AO3, for the comments! Just... thank you.

And Of Course, Thank You Day for Beta-ing this! Especially sense it was kinda last minute! XD

Just as his father promised, the day after what Katsuki would come to call 'The Shittiest Day of his Life' —not realizing how ironic that would become— the two sat down together in the house office and began their research on how to make one's Quirk 'stronger.' However, it soon became apparent that it would not be as easy as a few Google searches.

First of all, since no two Quirks were alike, advice on how to 'Quirk Train' was absurdly generalized and always ended with one of two things: go see a Mutantologist, or train through personal 'Trial and Error.' So, Pops' first four searches were about as useful as a fucking deer at hunting. And yet, somehow there were even less useful articles when he looked for more specific advice on something along the lines of Katsuki's Quirk because apparently 'Pyrotechnic/Combustion' Quirks were one of the rarest Quirk types in the world, right beside 'Psychological' Quirks. Even rarer were ones that weren't just damn party tricks, like Pops'. Lastly, what little tiny scraps of stupid-ass advice Pops did find were not doable for a ten-year-old.

So, forty minutes, a hundred articles, and a piece of paper that featured mostly scribbled out words later, the two boys had nothing but their bleeding headaches as proof that they had done anything.

Katsuki groaned loudly, dragging both hands down his face in complete frustration as he slumped back against the swivel chair. He was so fucking bored by that point that he was tempted to just get up and leave, but he couldn't because this was important! It was the most important thing in the entire goddamn world! He had to know how to get rid of his weaknesses or he was going to die! ... But he was bored, and nothing his father read aloud to him made sense anymore, and his ass was sore, and the TV was calling his name, and he was just so very, very fucking bored that his head was going to explode!

Pops released an elongated sigh, drawing the little boy's attention away from between his fingers and over to his dreary-looking father. "Katsuki—" He mumbled while also leaning back in his own chair in front of the family computer. "I'm... I'm really sorry about... this."

Katsuki's jaw clenched watching his father rub the exhaustion from his eyes. In his opinion, Pops had always been an open book right for the reading; a shitty, confusing book, mind you, as it's fucking impossible to tell exactly what someone is thinking if they themselves don't have a clue, but he was an open book nonetheless. This, however, was quite possibly the first and only time he'd ever been able to read his father's mind like it was printed on a sheet of paper in size 77 font and shoved in his face: 'I didn't expect this to be easy, but I didn't expect this to be so difficult.'

Good grief, he was beginning to feel bad.

"It's whatever," Katsuki grunted, scowling at the damned computer.

"No," Pops huffed, exasperated. "No, it's not... I just... thought this... Goodness gracious..." Katsuki, with a bland look on his face, began swiveling in his seat, only using the bare minimum amount of patience it took to wait for his father to figure out words.

Pops deeply sighed before turning to face his still spinning child, tight-lipped. Then, using his foot to stop the chair, he murmured, "Please, don't. You'll break the chair, and then your mother will have both our heads."

Katsuki rolled his eyes but complied by crossing his arms across his chest. Like she needed any goddamn excuse to want their heads on a platter, anyway...

Pops continued from earlier with a shake of his head, "Maybe... you should go... take a break, Katsuki? Watch anime, or finish homework or... something, just get—" Pops abruptly, and wisely, stopped before he said anything that really offended his son, who was already attempting to set his father on fire with just his eyes alone. If looks could kill and blah blah blah, Katsuki might've wanted to leave earlier but he had never taken kindly to idiots telling him what to do. Now he wanted to stay more than ever!

Pops' face fell and turned scarlet, clearly bemoaning his improper choice of words.

"I didn't...! Katsuki, I meant..." Pops floundered through several more poor attempts to explain, before finally stopping his pitiful excuses of 'communication'. Katsuki was still glaring at him, both offended and determined to stay to the end. Then, Pops deflated, looking even more tired as he said, "Katsuki, this... this isn't going anywhere... not for a while, and... this stuff is beginning to get too complicated for your age. I don't want you to get bored either... Look I'll keep trying to find out what to do, but... I think it's best you just... go... go have fun. I'll— I'll tell you if I find anything, okay?"

Katsuki continued to glare daggers and imaginary fire, but inside his heart softened dramatically. Pops, as always, was Pops, he supposed. Whatever the hell that meant.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, grumbling a pseudo reluctant 'fine' with a half-assed excuse that he was feeling tense anyway. Pops gave a wobbly grin of pure relief, jokingly suggesting he ask Ma for a massage if his muscles were giving him trouble, causing Katsuki to actually snort on his way out. Ma was a desperate last resort, as her massages tended to make him more tense than relieved.

It wouldn't be for another hour or so, but Pops eventually came downstairs calling Katsuki's name. Quickly, he found the young boy curled up on their western-style couch watching one of his favorite comedy animes and using his knitted All Might Plush as a pillow.

Katsuki turned his head up, face devoid of emotion. With a grunt, he sat up and waited for his father to tell him whatever news he had, be it good or shitty.

He had expected a few things, which is why he tried to keep his face neutral, but he sure as hell didn't expect, "What do you think about taking QMA and boxing?"

Katsuki blinked.

What the fuck? Did that? Have to do? With his Quirk?!

Right as Katsuki was about to go off, Pops interrupted him, "Katsuki, I looked through and read many different articles, and... you see, I think this is the best thing to do. I... I just don't think you're old enough to do some of the more... err... intense training... This... this will teach you to fight. Give you some fighting experience. Teach you how to build and take care of your body... I thought... QMA will teach you to fight with your Quirk, and by doing so, hopefully, you'll get some basic Quirk Training out of it? As for boxing, I just thought you might like it... and I heard it's also good stress relief?"

Katsuki listened carefully, soaking in every word. He guessed the explanation made a little sense. It mostly annoyed him that he couldn't just jump straight into making his Quirk stronger, but at the same time, he would need to know how to fight if he was going to be the best hero that ever lived... Then again, the part about 'learning to take care of your body' sounded lame... but the idea of being able to beat the shit out of people did sound nice...

Katsuki thought for a few minutes, even though he already knew his answer. Then, he reluctantly nodded, muttering how he supposed it was his only option for the time being so why the hell not?

Pops smiled down kindly at him from behind the couch, chuckling as he ruffled his son's hair, "Now we just need to talk to your mother."

Katsuki would have groaned at the thought but he was busy yelling at his father for messing with his hair.

In the end, it would take a few days of literal begging to get Ma to agree, as she firmly believed it would only be a waste of money. 'It's just a phase, Masaru! Every brat his age thinks they can save the world!' She said. But Pops, who usually relented or claimed that he agreed with her, argued firmly against her. Eventually, they both wore her down and she gave up, however, Katsuki had to promise he would go to every lesson as 'If I'm paying for your lessons I'm am fucking getting my money's worth.' Of course, Katsuki easily agreed to the terms he thought were too obvious to be necessary. Fucking duh he'd go to every lesson, that was the whole damn point after all!

Later that same night he overheard Ma say to Pops, "I'm telling you, Masaru, that fucking brat isn't going to last three months—" Little did she know, her words would only set her son's resolve in steel.

And oh, did she get her money's worth.

For the next two years, Katsuki went to his QMA and boxing lessons religiously, to the point where there were days Ma had to force him to stay home if he happened to be sick. He was just that dedicated to putting his fucking heart and soul into every lesson, every move, every second of training. Some people —morons— might even say he was obsessed, but what the hell did they know? He needed to constantly be working, bettering, improving or he'd fall behind and his weaknesses will catch up to him. And, he wasn't just talking about his Quirk anymore, he was talking about literally everything; even the shit he originally dismissed —especially them— were important. Learning how not to hurt yourself during a fight. Learning about different body types for fighting and figuring out which one worked best for your fighting style and your body. Pinning fuckers to the ground, watching your diet, personal research, and completing stretches. They were all important. It all took hard work, blood, sweat, tears, and Katsuki had several various progress journals worth of evidence to attest to that, and it paid off. His dedication and hard work quickly led him to be one of the best —if not, the best— students at both respective gyms to the surprise of no one. Except maybe his mother, fucking ha!

By the time Katsuki was twelve-years-old, he had more control over his Quirk than most adults, but it wasn't enough. He knew it wasn't enough because while he might have had impressive control for his age, when compared to other heroes, he was still on the lower end of the skill scale. Which frustrated him as much as it fueled him to keep moving forward.

Eventually, Katsuki was old enough to start proper Quirk Training at just under the age of thirteen. Sadly, with the start of his Quirk Training, Katsuki had to drop one of his fighting classes. It upset him, but he simply didn't have the time to properly rest, study, attend school, extracurricular hobbies, and three different forms of 'training'. It wasn't feasible for a thirteen-year-old, no matter how dedicated, or stubborn. In the end, Katsuki decided to quit boxing, which hurt like hell. He had grown to love boxing during his two years attending lessons to the point where he implemented a lot of boxing-inspired moves into his personal fighting style for QMA. Pops was also right when he said boxing would be a good stress reliever. Katsuki even managed to stop picking on Deku... at least, he didn't do it that much. But, when it came down to it, boxing was the one to go. QMA had more long-term benefits as it was meant to teach him how to implement his Quirk in fights first and foremost, even if it was a lot more learning then fighting. Meanwhile boxing, fun as it was, was mainly a Quirk-free sport, not all that helpful.

Thank fuck it worked out in the end: Quirk Training turned out to be pretty damn good stress reliever in its own right.

With a little over two years of personal in-depth research and 'trial and error' under their belt, Katsuki and Pops actually knew what the hell they were doing when it finally came to properly, and safely, putting some real BOOM! behind Katsuki's explosions. Essentially what they had learned was that Katsuki's single, powerful Quirk was actually two, weak Quirks that worked together to create one big BOOM! One of the small, technical Quirks was that his body, instead of producing and releasing glorified salty water to cool off when overheated, produced and released a nitroglycerin-like substance, although the sweat was significantly more concentrated in his palms. It wasn't exactly like nitroglycerin, for one it wasn't as shock-sensitive or prone to rapid heating, and it wasn't toxic like nitroglycerin, but it had a similar smell —burnt sugar— and exploded at the same rate. The technical second Quirk was the spark in the middle of the palm that set the nitroglycerin-ish sweat to explode. Both aspects were important in making his overall Quirk work, but when it came to making it stronger, he needed to solely focus on the sweating aspect. More sweat equals more BOOM!, and as it turns out, producing more sweat is surprisingly easy as hell, only a few insignificant lifestyle changes and that was it. Katsuki drank more water; hot foods and drinks became a cornerstone of his diet —hot referring to both being spicy and the temperature—; he wore two layers at least at all times and made sure his clothing consisted mostly of darker colors. In addition, at home, he kept the air conditioner blasting and the temperature low so his body would be more used to the cold than the heat, so when he went out his body would produce, you fucking guessed it, more sweat.

However, with more sweat also came a lack of control, and his shitty Quirk already required a high level of control to be efficient. So that is where the Quirk Training came into play.

In the sweltering heat of the local Quirk Gym about four times a week, Katsuki would stand for an hour and a half in black sweatpants and a black tank top while attempting to control how much sweat he released in his palms: alternating between huge explosions that could knock people back and tiny, insignificant sparks as fast as possible. In addition, he learned how to stand properly so he wouldn't get knocked back on his ass when unleashing larger explosions, which was harder than it sounds when you take into account different types of shoes and the material of the ground. Actually, it was a real fucking pain that took way longer than it should've to master, but eventually, Katsuki would master both and he could easily switch between sparks and explosions of various sizes without needing to even think about it.

After that, Katsuki's training took the logical step of learning to control the sizes of his explosions while fighting, because trying to control sweat production while you're running in the blazing heat, and processing twenty things at once would naturally be more fucking difficult than when you're just standing around like an idiot. It would take even longer to get the hang of it, but by the time he was fourteen, Katsuki was confident in saying that he could stand among pros.

Admittedly, Katsuki was maybe a little too arrogant for his own good but to hell if he cared, he was proud of himself, damnit! Days of being in horrible pain, weeks of research, months of training, years of hard work, puddles of blood, lakes of tears, oceans of sweat, went into being able to have such extraordinary, borderline masterful, control over his Quirk at such a young age. Sure his shitty weaknesses hadn't gone away as he had hoped as a dumbass ten-year-old, but he was older now and knew better, all he had to do was bury his weaknesses until they didn't matter. So, fuck you, he was completely justified in having his head a little shoved up his ass!

Katsuki held his head up high; he was strong, he was powerful, he completely earned the right to be a little crappier than normal to the weak son of a bitch known as Deku.

He had been floating on cloud nine.

And he fell like a meteor.

Because he had been wrong.

So. Very. Wrong.

The Sludge Villain Incident.

Katsuki had very little to say about it. He had almost died to the hands of some lame D-Ranked villain. It was traumatic, as expected, and he spent a few weeks waking up in the middle of the night from nightmares, but honestly, the kidnapping part wasn't really the problem. It was what the Incident meant that traumatized him. A D-Ranked loser almost killed him. The Quirkless loser Deku, who he had just made fun of not two hours beforehand, had tried to save him because he needed to be saved.

Katsuki felt like he was ten years old all over again, learning about his weaknesses for the first time. Except, this time, it was so much worse because he thought he could stand among pro's and he couldn't defeat a D-Ranked Villain?! It didn't matter that his Quirk was simply not compatible with the Villain. Water beats fire. Sludge beats explosions; It didn't matter, it shouldn't have mattered! The best always wins no matter what! And meeting All Might, his role model, for the first time... it pissed him off. It was so... embarrassing!

Did this mean his hard work had been for nothing..?

No! He refused to believe it! He did not spend four years of his life working his ass off just to fail! He was going to be the best hero to ever live or so help him goddamnit he'll lose his fucking mind!

He just had to be better.

Exams, testing, and applications to get into UA Academy For Heroics, the best hero school in the country, were a little less than a year away. That's how long Katsuki had to form a plan, polish his skills, learn new ones, and anything else that he needed to do. Not a lot of time, but enough.

He would make it enough time.

A year passed, and the entrance exams for UA finally came. For the practical part of the test Katsuki had several tricks up his sleeves —a beta version of Howitzer Impact being one of them—, however, it wasn't perfect, some deep part of Katsuki was nervous he hadn't done enough, but he couldn't think about that. This was his shot and if he didn't shoot it...

The practical part of the exam had been a piece of cake. In fact, Katsuki felt like it was too easy, all they had to do was destroy giant fighting robots. Even when this big ass 'zero pointer' showed up halfway through the test it felt too easy. The only annoying thing about the whole damn test was that he had to sit next to Deku —why the fuck was the Quirkless wannabe even trying?— during the assembly! It was fun as hell to go rampant and destroy shit, but there had to be more, right? Right?!

If there was, he never figured it out. He left the exam feeling antsy and irritated, no surprises in sight. Then, when he got home, he told Pops in a clipped voice about the exam and went straight to bed, a migraine acting as the canary in the coal mine for the Collapse he was about to go through when he woke up in the morning.

A few weeks later, he got a letter in the mail with the UA seal stamped in dark crimson wax, old fashioned like.

Katsuki got in, unsurprisingly. Top of the leaderboard, with one idiot Katsuki forgot the name of just barely tailing him. It should have been a moment of victory, yet somehow it wasn't satisfying at all.

Three points. He had barely scraped the top by the skin of his teeth with three points. Three fucking points! What would have happened if he didn't get those last two Three Pointers at the end? What would have happened if he didn't buckle down on his training within the past year? Katsuki knew UA was the best in the country. He knew there would be dozens of kids who had been training for this just as long as he had, and yet those three points irked him. After years of dedication and hard work... and he was nothing more than average.

Average. Average. Average.

Average: the combat training with All Might made sure to show him that in terrifying vivid detail. Idiots like IcyHot, Ponytail, Soy Sauce, Shitty Hair, and even Deku because of fucking course he got into UA too, were going to be more than just pebbles in his path. Instead, they were holes to trip him, boulders to jump over, and cliffs to climb, and it pissed him off.

Five years! Five years and it turns out he wasn't anything special! Not even the slightest edge to his name, fucking damnit!

And that wasn't even the worst part!

Everything! Everything during that combat training session would keep him up at night for weeks on end. Beyond just knowing that he wasn't as strong as he had once thought. If he lived through it once, he could live through it again. No matter how devastating the blow, he could live with it. He was determined to get through this rough patch of shitty luck. What truly fucking wrecked him, though, was how a weakling like Deku, someone bottom of the barrel in terms of strength, a person that Katsuki could have rest easy knowing he would never grow strong, could now beat him. Win a fight against him, with some secret Quirks he miraculously pulled out of his ass!

Katsuki's world had been resting on a shaky pedestal ever since he was ten, that pedestal being a guarantee that no matter how hard he fell, at least he wasn't Deku. At least he had the potential to live up to everyone's expectations and his own dreams of becoming the greatest hero that ever lived. At least his dream was achievable despite his weaknesses, but now, a stupid ass, weak little punk like Deku could win against him.

It's just setbacks, Katsuki thought as he dragged his feet home later that same day after Deku came and gave him some bullshit excuse about how his Quirks was given to him or some crap. It's just a small setback.

He just needed to rewrite his plan, and adapt.

It's just a setback.

He did it when he was ten years old. He did it with the Sludge Monster. This was a challenge, accept it, because even if the pedestal that held his world up high was starting to form cracks at the base, he could still win. He could still be the best hero in the world, better than All Might.

Just a setback, a small bump in the road.

No matter how much Katsuki didn't want to admit it, there were things to learn, and things to improve.

Remember how Deku's arm looked after that explosion? Crisp like burnt bacon.

It's. Just. A. Setback.

That same night, Katsuki cried himself to sleep with his father running his fingers through his hair.

Just a setback? Who the fucking hell did he think he was kidding? A shit faced toddler? He was attending UA Academy goddamnit, the best damn school for aspiring Pro Heroes in the country, and one of the best in the world; 'simple setbacks' weren't going to cut it anymore. They were problems that needed to be dealt with immediately, or else the school would just take those little molehills and turn them into mountains, and UA seemed to love making mountains out of Katsuki's every doubt, fear, and action. Day after day, week after week, UA succeeded in making Katsuki's worst dream come true. It showed him and everyone else how inadequate of a hero he truly was, it ripped his guts out and displayed them for all to see, and yet no one seemed to care.

Something was bending, threatening to snap in two, inside of Katsuki, and he had no idea what he could do to stop it.

"Well if any of our classmates have Pro Quirks, it's Todoroki and Bakugou."

It was roughly over a month later, after the whole training incident with All Might, and the entire class was taking a trip somewhere for training purposes. Everyone was dressed in their hero costume, chatting with each other casually, but Katsuki was in the back of the bus, glaring out the window as the world flew by. He was not a part of the damn conversation, so if he was expecting to hear anyone saying his name he was sure it would be an insult or a backhanded compliment. But somehow it was even more disturbing... a fucking compliment from Shitty-Hair.

It was a startling surprise because it had no subtext. There was no indication he was being a stuck-up, and it wasn't lined with envy. It was a kind, genuine compliment delivered with a bright, sunny, shark-toothed grin for the sake of it, and it shocked Katsuki for a second. He hadn't had a kind word said about him in so long...

Then Frog-Bitch and Dunce-Face jumped in with their objectively offensive jabs at his shit personality and ruined the moment.

After Aizawa threatened to throw Katsuki out the window if he didn't stop screaming he slumped back into his seat defeatedly and stared back out the window. His cheeks flushing a dark red from all the scum he called classmates, except Shit-Hair and Deku, snickering about how their teacher managed to shut up the 'Great Bakugou'.

This isn't how it's supposed to be, Katsuki thought bitterly. He was supposed to be a standout. He was supposed to be fearfully respected on some level by his peers. Deku was supposed to be gone and out of his life.

Katsuki closed his eyes, took a deep breath, released, then repeated a few more times to ease his rage-filled mind.

If he didn't calm the fuck down, he was going to either lose his goddamn mind or his body was going to start Locking from being too tense, and that was a bad thing for obvious reasons. He needed to relax and remember why they were even on a bus in the first place. They were going to a training session. A rescue training session that Katsuki was sure to suck at mind you, but a training session that he could use to release some stress nonetheless.

Maybe if he was lucky enough he'd get to blow up a few buildings, or fight a few mock villains. That sounded heavenly.

Katsuki opened his eyes again, feeling better only in theory, and went back to watching the lush green grass of the UA Academy grounds rush by on a warm spring morning.

Overall, it was a perfectly beautiful day to not expect a villain attack on the USJ.

Honestly, other than it being extremely therapeutic to beat the living shit out a bunch of useless, slime-nosed villains after such a shit day, and truly meeting Shit-Hair for the first time, the USJ Incident wasn't as traumatic or noteworthy for him as it was for the others. 'Villains were deranged! ... They could die!', etcetera, etcetera, Katsuki knew this, accepted this, and had already lived this. The Sludge Monster hadn't made him change his goddamn mind about being a hero; a hoard of morons, one handsy brat —pun intended— and a fucked up Big Bird-ripoff wasn't going to either.

Besides, at the end of the day, the USJ Incident paled in comparison in terms of trauma to the Sports Festival that happened a couple of weeks later, because the goddamn Sports Festival had been a fucking disaster.

The obstacle course at the beginning was frustrating but he could live with it.

The Calvary Battle pissed Katsuki off on several levels because he wanted to win so fucking bad and he had been so fucking close, but he got to the next round, where his skill, not talent, would finally be tested.

The 1V1 matches were going as expected, and he got several amazing fights out of it. The one with Round-Face was difficult. The one with Shitty-Hair was fun. The one with Bird-Head made him think. Then, when it came to the one against IcyHot, he hoped for a fight that would combine all his previous ones: a fight that was fun, difficult, and thought-provoking. He already had a few ideas on how to get past IcyHot's flames, and his ice would be a piece of fucking cake.

He was going to prove once and for all that he was the undisputed strongest in his class by giving it his all in a fair and square fight, like a true hero! Like All Might! He had put in hours of extra training, allowed his sleep schedule to suffer, to be able to prove he could take on IcyHot no problem. Unlike at the beginning of the year. No more underestimating his opponents. No more feeling weak.

I can do this, Katsuki thought as he stepped into the center of the crowd filled sports arena, determination leaking off him the same way Deku leaked tears. He squared his shoulders, prepped his hands out in front of him, and waited for IcyHot on the other side of the ring to attack. Give me your all, IcyHot.

He was going to win.

At least... he had hoped he would. But that was not what happened at all.

First, he overused his Quirk. Well... technically his dumbass Quirk had been at its limit since his fight with Round-Face, maybe even before that, but he had been determined to ignore the sharp pains of stiff, Locked muscles in order to win. The fight with IcyHot-Bastard had just been the feather that broke the camel's back.

Second, Katsuki had knocked IcyHot out of the ring, unconscious from being hit with his somewhat perfected version of 'Howitzer Impact'. In the eyes of many, it gave him the win, but it really fucking didn't, and seeing IcyHot slumped back against his shattered ice wall had Katsuki for one terrifying second thinking about how his explosions had damn near blown Dekus stupid arm off. Distantly he wondered if maybe he had finally managed to kill someone...

With his heart in his throat, just waiting for any excuse to jump out of Katsuki's mouth with his stomach wishing to follow right behind, he stumbled forward and ran up to Todoroki. Once he was close enough to touch Todoroki he saw that the unconscious boy was thankfully still breathing, and therefore alive. However, his relief and joy were short-lived, and were instantly replaced with a blind rage once again when he realized...

Third, Katsuki had decided to use Howitzer Impact as a way to put out IcyHot's flames, but he knew the Icy-Bastard could dodge the attack with his ice. He'd then turn and use his flames again once Katsuki hit the ground. Then the battle would continue from there after Katsuki dodged. However, IcyHot stopped fighting. He didn't use his flames. He didn't even fucking try to win. He just... gave up halfway through! How in the world was Katsuki supposed to be the undisputed best of the best if one of his opponents gave up! It wasn't fair! It wasn't fucking fair! Katsuki gave it his all against Todoroki, even used a special move on him, and yet that IcyHot-Bastard couldn't show him the same respect?! This was worse than a straight loss, this was a cheap win, and Katsuki refused to accept his win the way it happened! He'd slap IcyHot out of unconsciousness and drag him back into the arena if he had to, but he couldn't win like this! It wasn't fair! It meant he didn't earn his win! It meant he failed! It showed everyone how weak he was! It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair!

It wasn't fair...

Fourth, according to his parents, namely his Ma, who watched the sports festival on TV, Katsuki grabbed IcyHot and started begging for him to wake up so they could finish their fight properly. However, he didn't remember doing that, and later on refused to watch the dozens of stations that reran the festival to see if they were right. All he remembered was waking up... the second time that is.

Finally, after his supposed 'Emotional Breakdown' as his Ma ever so gently put it, Midnight knocked him out using her aroma Quirk. When he woke up the first time, apparently he started acting 'insane', so they knocked him out again and chained him up to the 1st place podium like a rabid dog about to be shot. All in all, Katsuki was tired, he was battered, extremely emotional, and thanks to Midnight he passed out in a very tense position, then he was picked up and moved around like a rag doll. Perfect conditions for his muscles to Lock, and for his senses to be on overdrive in response to his overused Quirk.

Upon waking up the second time, Katsuki could barely move except for muffled screams, and painful, jerky motions of his arms and torso. It didn't have anything to do with the chains around his waist, or the cuffs covering his hands, or the muzzle over his mouth, either. Honestly, being chained up was the least of his concerns, though it certainly didn't help. In fact, they gave him an excuse as to why his movements were so stiff and awkward as he jerked around. No, his biggest problem was all the fucking noise.

He had been an idiot when he set his hearing aids at a higher volume than what he was used to when dealing with his strongest explosions. It had been a decision based solely on the fact he wanted to hear what was around him, but it had come back to bite him in the ass because now he could still hear the rumble of the crowd and Present Mic yell shit over the speakers. It was too loud, too noisy. He was going to go insane if everyone didn't just shut the fuck up already. How could people live in constant noise and chatter when everything was all so fucking loud?!

Then, to make his matters worse, All Might was the one presenting them their medals, and it hurt to know he lost—no matter what the others said, he lost— in front of All Might himself. It physically hurt when All Might said that at least he was "true to his word" and won the festival as Katsuki said he would. Logically, Katsuki knew it was supposed to make him feel better, but instead, it came across as the worst insult he had ever received in his entire life, and the gold medal forced upon him was the heavy symbol to represent that insult.

Damnit, Katsuki thought bitterly once the UA security and staff began to filter the crowd out of the arena, still chained up to the 1st place podium. Damnit...

Katsuki had never wanted to go home more than he did at that moment; feeling humiliated, ashamed, pissed, slightly delirious, in pain, and most of all, weak.

Eventually, someone finally unchained Katsuki so he could go get changed into his normal clothes in the locker room. That is after a tongue lashing about his behavior and attitude from Vlad King that Katsuki had been so obviously ignoring, Vlad gave up his speech halfway through and let Katsuki walk past him.

As Katsuki stumbled his way out, Cementoss stopped him to say that he better change quickly because Pops had shown up a few minutes beforehand, and was demanding to see his son. However, Katsuki's legs were lead, his ears were throbbing, and his eyes were melting out of his sockets, so he was not primed to hear a word Cementoss said. He didn't even know who was talking to him, but he did manage to catch the word "father" and that's all he needed to know what the teacher was talking about. So, he grunted, cutting Cementoss off, and continued to trudge his way back to the locker room.

By the time he entered the locker room, Katsuki could physically feel his Collapsed state snarling over him like an unkept promise; demanding that he face the consequences for overusing his Quirk like an idiot, and the longer he fought against the inevitable the harder the heartbeat between his temples drummed.

Katsuki, going off of pure muscle memory, fumbled around and tripped over his own two feet until he managed to finally collapse his sweat-covered body onto one of the benches. He set his head in his hands and cursed a few times to himself.

The breaks between events and rounds during the festival hadn't nearly been as restful as they were meant to be. Katsuki had to walk up and down a hundred stairs and hallways to get from the stands to the infirmary to the center of the sports arena, where he had to actually fight. Then Katsuki had his typical warm-ups and stretches before and after matches that he did to make sure he didn't snap a tendon while fighting. He didn't even get a moment to mentally rest while he was sitting down in the stands because he was too busy analyzing all potential opponents for if and when he had to fight them later on.

So, being able to finally and truly sit down and relax in a relatively quiet room, since all the boys had left before he stepped foot in the locker room, felt like absolute heaven. The problem was it was too great. Katsuki doubted he'd be able to stand again without falling harder than Rome straight into the lockers. He was so exhausted he could sleep for the next eighteen hours straight, and everything from his legs to his hands to his eyes and ears burned like they were on fire.

Goddamnit! Katsuki thought desperately. How am I going to make it to the reception area like this? It's not like I can ask for help! No ones even around anyway! What the fuck am I going to do? What the fuck am I going to fucking do?

Before Katsuki could further spiral downward into his endlessly looping thoughts, an annoyingly chipper voice that was all too recognizable as Shitty-Hair broke the relatively quiet world by shouting, "Hey, Bakugou!" from across the room, causing his way too loud of a voice to echo throughout the room. "That last move you made on Todoroki was awesome!"

Katsuki winced at the compliment from Shitty-Hair that only sounded like an insult to his poor, abused ears. He sounded so obnoxiously cheerful that Katsuki easily imagined the fucker banging his fist together like he tended to do whenever he got excited.

Where to even begin with this no-good moron? Why the fuck was this loser here? Why was this idiot talking to him? What sick pleasure came from annoying him after everyone else had gone the hell home? He seemed to be the only person in the entire world that didn't understand that Katsuki wanted nothing to do with him, or anyone for that matter. Ever since the USJ Incident in particular Shitty-Hair had been following Katsuki around like a baby duckling; making sure to say hello in the morning and goodbye in the afternoon, pairing with him for every sparring match, inviting him to sit together at lunch, and inviting him to goodness knows where after school. During the Cavalry Battle, Shitty-Hair managed to manipulate him into letting him be the front horse for his team before Katsuki could think about telling him to fuck off. Shitty-Hair even made a decent case as to why he had to pick Racoon-Eyes and Soy-Sauce as his sides.

Honestly, it was almost endearing how Kirishima Eijirou refused to go away like a pesky fly, buzzing around his head and giving him praise and compliments about the stupidest things until Katsuki's ears bled. Shitty-Hair once gushed over how Katsuki could do a backflip for a solid minute. Another time he could not stop talking about how "well thought out" Katsuki's Hero Outfit was. It was annoying, but also so kind and genuine that Katsuki honestly had no idea how to handle it.

Katsuki dragged his fingers across his cheeks, and over his eyelids to keep himself awake through Shit-Hair's mindless rant.

"—And-POW! And there Todoroki went flying with that huge explosion! It was so awesome, Bakugou! I thought you topped yourself during your fight with Uraraka and the falling rocks but man," Shitty-Hair threw his head back and laughed, sounding high as fuck.

Katsuki hated it. He hated the praise he didn't earn. There were cracks forming at the base of the pedestal that held Katsuki's world, slowly inching their way up the more Shitty-Hair reminded him of his failure during the Sports Festival. Why didn't anyone understand that he didn't actually win? That he failed? Why was Shit-Hair so loud? Why wouldn't he just shut up!?

"-You sure shocked me!"

How the hell is this fucking bastard with his stupid, loud voice still talking?! Katsuki internally screamed like a madman.

Then... Shitty Hair, still sounding way too happy said, "How long did it take you to master that move, Bakugou?"

Katsuki hands froze while he was running his hand through his hair, and for a single solitary second everything stopped hurting; his head, his eyes, his shoulders, his legs, his hands. Everything had to stop so Katsuki could process Shit-Hair's question because he couldn't remember the last time someone asked him how long it took to master anything.

Katsuki turned his head gingerly to look up at Shit-Hair with his stupid, dopey, shark-toothed grin that radiated joy the same way the sun radiated light. Shit-Hair had just come out of the shower—that was obvious, with his shitty red hair being wet and no longer in their typical stupid upward spikes. Instead, his hair was pulled up in a yellow bandanna, and Shitty-Hair was wearing a slightly damp bright orange t-shirt.

The fashion atrocity looked like a pile of autumn leaves, and it physically stung Katsuki's eyes to look at. Or it might've been the bright ceiling lights straining his sensitive eyes...

Katsuki believed the former explanation more.

Shit-Hair's smile dipped down into a bit more of a hesitant and nervous one after a while of Katsuki staring at him with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Hey, man?" He said, voice full of concern. "You alright?" Katsuki snapped out of his daze, then quickly looked back down at the floor with a pained grunt. Moving wasn't such a good idea.

"I'm fine," Katsuki gritted between his teeth. "Just sore."

Shitty-Hair sat down next to him on the bench and leaned slightly forward with his elbows on his knees to see more of Katsuki's face.

"If you're sure, man," He said hesitantly, sounding completely unconvinced. "Anyway, how long did it take you to master that awesome move?"

"What move are you talking about?" Katsuki asked while rubbing his temples. He wasn't seriously indulging this idiot with a conversation, was he?

"Dude, I just explained it to you!" Shit-Hair pouted. Despite Katsuki obviously being unable to see him. "That one where you flew into the air, then started spinning and POW! With the big explosion!"

"Oh..." Katsuki muttered, goddamn his head was trying to kill him.

"Unless you managed to do that in one go..." Shitty-Hair's caught his breath, and his crimson eyes went wide with awe at the very idea. "Holy crap, man! If you managed to do something like that on your first attempt you'd have to be the most amazing hero in the entire—"

"Four months." Katsuki abruptly interrupted before Shitty-Hair could ruin the feeling inside his stomach with the stupid notion that he was some sort of God.

Shitty-Hair paused for a second to simply stare at Katsuki, then he smiled bright enough to make the sun itself look like a lightning bug in comparison.

"Four months!? That's insane!"

"Should've taken me one..." Katsuki mumbled mostly to himself as if the slight self-deprecation would be enough to stomp out the flutter inside his stomach from Shitty-Hair's borderline compliment.

Although, he wasn't lying; Howitzer Impact was supposed to only take a month by his original estimates, but it turned out to be a lot more complicated than he anticipated. The landing specifically was the biggest pain in the ass, because each landing wound up needing to be completely different depending on the smallest detail from the angle he was coming in on to the very ground he trained on. In other words, the landing for concrete was different from landing on dirt, and dirt was different from grass, and grass was different from tile floor. Before he knew it three whole months had flown by before he got it down perfectly for the first time, and even then it was a complete fluke. It took him another two weeks to do it again, and another two weeks to complete it consistently, though he still botched the landing more times than he didn't.

Absolute pain in the ass, but it was worth it due to its strength and speed... now he just needed to figure out a way to not make it so dangerous for other people...

Katsuki grunted to himself and went back to massaging his temples. It really wasn't the time to be thinking deeply about attacks and Quirk training. He had a Shitty-Haired loser to converse with and a parent to get to and an overused Quirk's backlash to work around...

Shitty-Hair's smile dipped once again, looking slightly worried as he tilted his head slightly to the side and pierced his lip. He leaned forward and ever so slightly nudged Katsuki's shoulder with his hand like he was testing the waters for casual touch, but it still came across as playful. It helped to once again snap Katsuki out of his train of thought.

"C'mon, man," Shitty-Hair supplied in a joking manner, "Four months? That's still impressive! Four months ago I couldn't even do fifty pushups!"

"Bullshit!" Katsuki snapped back automatically with a growl. Then winced from the sound of his own voice being way too loud for his own ears. Softer, he said, "That's fucking impossible."

Katsuki might've been a bit busy attending to his worsening headache, but he could still imagine Shitty-Hair's growing, bulky muscles that, given a few more years, would be able to pop someone's head clean off their shoulders.

Shitty-Hair's eyes sparkled as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. But I still think that's impressive! I mean, I didn't start taking my Quirk Training seriously until I decided I wanted to apply to U.A. for sure, but you must have been training since you were a kid, yeah?"

Katsuki's heart skipped a beat and fluttered like a butterfly fresh out of the cocoon. When was the last time a compliment felt this good?

Katsuki grunted, "Started when I was ten," while trying to hide the prideful blush threatening to spill onto his cheeks.

"Man, you really are crazy!" Shitty-Hair laughed. "I've wanted to be a hero since I was a kid too but that's just insane."

Before Karsuki knew what he was doing, he was shoving Shitty-Hair as hard as he could, but with his lack of strength it only came across as playful, making Shitty-Hair snicker harder.

"I didn't start real Quirk training till I was twelve, jackass!" He growled through the pain and his teeth. "I just did simple stuff. Ran with the old man. Did a few stretches... Took martial arts class... Didn't really..." Katsuki cut himself off for a second and went back to rubbing his eyes and temple with a soft groan. Katsuki knew it wasn't working to relieve the headache or screaming muscles but it gave him a form of control that soothed him. "Didn't really work on explosion power till later."

"Well I hate to break it to you, man, but most kids aren't worrying about what it actually takes to be a hero at ten-years-old. We human beings were too busy being stupid to care."

"Fucking explains why you're all a bunch of losers," Katsuki grumbled.

Shitty-Hair hummed in a sarcastic agreement and pure mirth. He gave off this vibe of confident self-satisfaction and something more that Katsuki felt reaching out to desperately touch him. So close. So threatening, and yet mesmerizingly warm. It promised safety and comfort and Katsuki hated it because it scared him with how familiar it was.

After a short stretch of silence, Shitty-Hair leaned back where he sat, and drawled casually, "Hey... since we're talking about training... I was wondering if you'd like to do some training with me after school sometime?"

"What?" Katsuki deadpanned, mind running on its last percentage of battery life.

"I mean... you've been training for years, right?" Shitty-Hair paused for a second, and Katsuki didn't know which explanation for the pause was worse: Shitty-Hair needing to think, or that he was expecting an answer.

"That better be a rhetorical question, Shit-Hair."

Shitty-Hair winced, then ran his fingers through his hair with a guilty laugh.

"I've only been training seriously for maybe a year and a half? Maybe two. So, having someone who knows how to properly train their Quirk to give me advice and tips and stuff would be really helpful for me! Plus our Quirks are super compatible, y'know? So you'll get something out of it too!"

"A headache?" Katsuki guessed blandly.

Just a few more minutes. Hang on for a few more fucking minutes.

"A challenge! I'm not gonna let you win as easily as you did back there in the quarter-finals. No matter how great you are, I won't give up until I win!" Shitty-Hair banged his fist together proudly to finalize his bold declaration.

And there was that feeling again, the one that Shitty-Hair gave off that reached out and threatened to touch him, but this time it did touch him. It cradled, caressed, and wrapped its careful hands around something inside Katsuki that he didn't have a name for. All the while it whispered promises of safety from judgment, loyalty, and warmth that had Katsuki wrapping himself around Shitty-Hair's little finger. This was the same trick that Shitty-Hair pulled during the Cavalry Battle, and the worst part was... Katsuki couldn't bring himself to care. It was such a nice feeling compared to the throbbing headache, aching muscles, and deteriorating mental state that Katsuki gladly would have drowned in whatever mind-manipulation tricks Shitty-Hair pulled. No matter how terrifying, confusing, or how much he'd later hate it.

"What time?" Katsuki gritted through his teeth.

That single sentence was the final straw. No more battery. Hearing, shutdown. Sight, shutdown. Ability to think, shutdown.

Kirishima jumped with joy, muttering a quick 'yes' to himself, "You won't regret this, man! How's Monday to start off sound?"

Katsuki grunted, he didn't actually care, or hear. He would ask the next time he saw Kirishima... or something. If he remembered this conversation at all.

Kirishima's joy was short-lived once he noticed how ragged and erratic Katsuki's breathing had become. Katsuki had been drained, tense, and somewhat out of it the entire conversation but this was clearly different.

"Bakugou?" Kirishima hesitantly asked. He gently set his hand on Katsuki's shoulder. Normally Katsuki would have flinched away but instead, his trembling figure leaned into it. "Are you okay?"

No. No, he wasn't. He was so 'not okay' that he didn't hear anything except for the ringing that comes after hearing something really loud. Why was Kirishima being so loud, again? Was he trying to make his ears bleed? What in the world made Katsuki think using the 2nd strongest setting on his hearing aids was a good idea? He needed Pops, but who knows how he was supposed to get to them like this, or how worried his father was.

"Bakugou? Hey, man, Bakugou, do you need me to do something?"

Why was Katsuki so weak? Why did this happen if he overused his Quirk? Why did he have to fall apart like this? Why couldn't his Quirk just be perfect? Why did everything have to hurt so bad?

"Bakugou..." Kirishima's voice dropped to a low whisper, and he started rubbing his hand up and down Katsuki's back. It was just like how Pops did it, too. "Please... you're super tense... what can I do to help?"

Why wasn't Katsuki panicking? He was falling to pieces in front of Kirishima, showing his horrible weakness, and Katsuki wasn't panicking. He wasn't happy but he wasn't panicking. What secondary Quirk did Kirishima possess that eased Katsuki's mind and made him so easy to be around? Why? Why Kirishima?

It was that stupid feeling. That stupid thing wrapped around Katsuki that whispered promises of things Katsuki didn't like, but with no idea what else to do, desperately clung to.

He was so tired.

He wanted his father.

He wanted to go home.

He needed help.

He was so weak.

"Kiri...shima..." Katsuki slurred, feeling slightly dizzy. "The arena reception... can you.. get my... Pops... Don't worry, I'm fine."

Kirishima pierced his lip between blades of sharp teeth, then he nodded, "I'll be quick, promise!"

Kirishima stood and sprinted out of the room as fast as he could, leaving Katsuki by himself in a world too bright to see, too noisy to hear, and too painful to move.

Katsuki finally Collapsed.

Yes! I made the deadline! I'd don't know why I'm so proud of myself for doing something so stupid but I am. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter, even the weird flow consciousness thing between the opening scene and the sports festival. I really struggled on whether I should keep it in or just do a time skip but then there was a lot of things I would have left out that would have been important But at the same time not important enough for a full scene. So I hope this is a happy compromise? Not too boring?

Alright time for the random notes: So I don't know when but I was looking up what each characters fighting styles were... like specific real world styles... MMA, Boxing, judo - something like that, *IF* any. Which honestly I didn't expect any results. However on one of the wikis it said Bakugou's fighting style is out-boxing, and after a crash course on boxing I decided "yeah that's sounds about right" and that's why I put bakugou in boxing classes.

I can't find the wiki now, or else I would provide the link, sooo you'll just have to take my word for it.

And... That's it for now! Thank you all for reading, again I hope this chapter wasn't too boring. As always feedback would be much appreciated. And again, thank you day for being my Beta.

Next Update Will Be On: Saturday - September 26th, American Time

-Kayla