It's a Long Road to Redemption, Kacchan
Summary: Deku followed Bakugou's advice and took a swan dive off the roof. Five years later they meet again and Izuku has a peculiar quirk that happens to be the hero's greatest weakness. (AU: Villain!Deku, Bakudeku)
Chapter 2: Roles Reversed
Whatever little patience Bakugou has dissipates. He can't fall asleep as his mind works over time, drawing scenarios in broad strokes and dark colours.
He's always prided himself on relying on strength as much as he does on intelligence. Problem is, no matter how hard he tries, his brain can't come up with a solution.
"Fucking hell,"
Droplets of water trickle down the sink in the opposite end of the room and the fact he needs to pee makes it all the worse but he still ignores the urge and distract himself.
Katsuki attempts counting dead villains, recites half a dozen recipes in his mind but time doesn't pass. In the end, after what feels like ages the sun creeps up the horizon, bathing the room in soft pinks.
He presses his palms together, desperate to use his quirk, only for it to produce no effect. His bicep throbs and vaguely he realizes in between the myriad of blues and purples there's a small mark of a syringe.
"Those pieces of shits must have deactivated my quirk somehow," he notes and for a small eternity the possibility of being quirkless downs on him like the scenario of a horror movie.
(He knows about the serum that deactivates quirks. He knows it only lasts six months…It doesn't stop him for wanting to scream and punch and maybe even cry because what is he even without his quirk?)
"It's poetic, don't you think?"
A wave of shock washes over him as he takes in the small figure leaning in against the bars of his cell.
"Fucking Deku, get me the hell out of here!" the scream leaves his lips before he can think it through, "Or else…"
Izuku grins at him, the formerly innocent smile morphed into something devilishly annoying that clashes against the image he has of the boy in his head.
"Or what?" he demands, squinting his eyes until they're two green slits. His fingers curl around the bars of the cell, as if to tease,
"You know…this was a prison once, a long time ago…"
Katsuki's mind latches onto the piece of information, desperate to know more. Midoriya appears lost in thought, seemingly unaware of the hope he's just planted in his chest.
"It's funny…don't you think?" he asks out of the blue, leaning in further against the bars, until they dig into the pale skin of his cheeks and leave red marks, "This place used to hold villains…but now we have a real hero here!"
There's a loud cackle of laugher and Bakugou finds it hard to tie it to his former friend.
Izuku unlocks his cell, empty handed. Quiet footsteps make their way to him and before he knows it the villain kneels before him, until they are at eye level.
"Like I said…ironic,"
Suddenly there's a grip over him, as though someone's holding a gun to his head. It's strange but he can't quite describe it – he feels exposed and naked, more vulnerable with each passing minute.
"I mean," Deku's lips curve into something between a smile and a smirk, "Look at us…our roles reversed!"
Katsuki attempts to speak but chokes on his words, the emotions scrambled in his chest suddenly intensifying, as though by command. The guilt he's stored for years washes over him like a tidal wave and he's drowning, gasping for air.
Midoriya leans in, as if to kiss him. He can feel hot breath over his ear as he whispers, drawing out the words as he repeats them,
"How does it feel to be powerless, Kacchan?"
A soaring pain explodes inside his chest but it's nothing physical, rather something else entirely. Bakugou struggles to breathe as the emotions inside him threaten to boil and he stretches out his hands, desperate to dig into reality before it slips past his grip.
If he could find the words…hell, he might beg Deku to step closer.
Reading his mind Izuku pulls away,
"Oh, I remember all the times you slapped my hand away, Kacchan!" he says in a sing song voice, flashing him a grin.
"Deku, you bastard…" he manages to choke out but then Midoriya steps in closer and grabs at his shoulder, fingers digging in until they leave marks.
"See what you did to me?"
Deku's eyes are two blazing pools of green, wide and scared. Despite the lust for revenge and all Ground Zero can think is: this is hurting him too.
xxx
Bakugou doesn't have a way to describe what happens next.
There's nothing but hot, white agony. The room tilts to one side and everything blurs until the scene before him fades away, the only thing that remains is Izuku's high pitched voice in his mind.
It's not his current voice though, no, it sounds like a child, words spoken years ago now mirrored before him.
"Kacchan…I wanna be a hero just like you!"
It sounds younger, softer, rid of anger and bitterness.
Katsuki's one goal was to silence that sweet, almost angelic voice.
(He liked the sound of it, sure. Problem was, it only made the demons in his head louder.)
"You should take a swan dive off the roof!" he hears himself, over and over again until the memory is all there is, his own voice a distorted echo that rambles his mind.
"Your classmate Midoriya Izuku has committed suicide,"
The words haunt him, floating through his being like a ghost desperate for revenge.
Anger and regret, guilt and helplessness take a grasp over him and he finds himself unable to shake it away, to escape the emotions like he's always done before.
Reality warps itself before him and he can't do anything but scream as a pain that isn't even there – it's not physical to begin with – overwhelms him.
xxx
Katsuki loses track of time but next time he opens his eyes he feels worse than after any battle.
He takes a shaky breath as relief washes over him – the pain is gone, his emotions reverted to small waves rocking a boat rather than the roaring storm from a minute ago.
He's on the floor, his mouth tasting like cement and his hands outstretched, desperate to hold onto something or someone. Shakily he attempts to sit up, only to find himself too weak to move.
Much to his dismay a small, pathetic whimper comes out of his lips, against his will.
"You peed your pants too,"
Humiliation explodes within him as he takes in the words and tries to scream back, swear and tear apart the entire place but all he can do is whisper, his throat hoarse,
"Fuck you!" he manages, pushing himself up on willpower alone, "I swear I'll fucking end you for this!"
Izuku reappears before him, sitting on the floor next to him, cross-legged. There's something different about him – he looks, for a lack of a better word – damaged. The dark circles under his once bright eyes are more pronounced, clashing against milky pale skin as a few drops of sweat trickle down his neck.
Before Katsuki knows it, there's a pale hand on his chin, raising his face up until their eyes meet. He explores the green irises for the first time, taken aback by the depth in them.
Between the flecks of turquoise he finds remorse and sorrow, a pain so deep and intense he struggles to comprehend it.
"Why?"
He does what he does best – lash out,
"Why what?"
Deku's lips curl into a grimace, a flicker of impatience livening up his gaze,
"Why do you think this is unfair when all I've done is give you a taste of your own medicine?"
Bakugou finds himself speechless, no response coming to mind. A part of him wants to trash and scream and destroy but then there's another, darker part that he doesn't even dare explore that knows the villain is speaking the truth.
He looks away, unable to handle the inquisitive green gaze of the boy he killed with careless words.
His fingers move on their own into a fist, only for him to realize he's shaking.
Izuku appears to notice and there's a switch in his actions. His grip melts into something softer, almost tender.
A swipe across his cheek sends a jolt of electricity down his spine.
Katsuki wants to deny it but finds himself unable to, his emotions intensified, like sunrays through a magnifying glass.
"Get your hands off me, you disgusting piece of shit!" he screams because he's still the same, even after everything.
Izuku pulls away, as though burnt. The hero doesn't have to look to sense to aura of hurt.
There's a beat of silence and no matter how hard he tries to listen, no sounds from the outside world can be heard.
"Get up,"
"Or what?" he demands, "You'll fucking kill me? That it!?"
He waits for a reaction, eyes glued on the other's pale face. In the end Midoriya shakes his head and turns around,
"I'll let you take a bath," he explains, taking him by surprise, "I don't think you'd like to stink, you were always a bit of a clean freak."
The sentiment in his voice takes Bakugou by surprise and he finds himself nodding, against his nature. Getting up to his feet proves easier than expected, now that the pressure in his chest is gone.
He doesn't dare look at his own pants, shaking his head as he thinks about being called a clean freak. Ha, if only Izuku knew Iida.
Walking up towards the door, Bakugou's mind already comes up with a way to escape. Deku's eyes follow the direction his own take and he smirks, seeing through his intentions,
"If you try to flee, I'll make you feel that all over again, Kacchan,"
xxx
Thirty minutes later he's in another cell, a mirror image of his own, except this one is equipped with a bathtub.
He stretches out his hands, taking in the sensation of having them unrestrained. He'd make a run for it, if it weren't for the damn bracelet like device around his wrist.
"What the fuck is this?" he'd demanded as soon as Izuku planted it.
The other man smiled at him, bashing his eyelashes in an almost innocent way,
"This?" he asked, feigning kindness, "Oh, courtesy of the League of Villains. Try to escape and you'll get your brain fried."
Naturally he doesn't take to the warning and tries to escape, only to have himself electrocuted – something which, despite his stubbornness, he's not planning on doing again.
This leaves him in his current position – his body soaked in warm water, the quiet of the moment an illusion of normalcy.
Katsuki washes himself hastily, rubbing his skin until it feels a little less tainted. The emotion is still there, lingering deep inside him – as if being intruded, having someone else leave dirty footprints in his mind.
He holds his head in his hands, allowing himself a moment of desperation, wishing for someone to come.
Kirishima's face floats before his eyes, so do a few others – Aizawa, Uraraka, Kaminari and even All Might, retired or not.
(Kirishima isn't even his friend anymore but his brain refuses to acknowledge it – old habits die hard; real friendships die harder.)
"What's your quirk, shitty nerd," he grumbles under his breath.
More importantly – is it a quirk in the first place? A million different theories run through his mind but not one sticks.
In the absence of distractions guilt rears its ugly head and he is reminded why they are here.
It's him, it's always been him.
It's as though they're connected and every step one takes echoes in the life of the other.
xxx
(Past)
The days after the…announcement are a blur, an emotion he doesn't quite have a name for swimming in his head.
Katsuki loses something for the first time that day.
"Loss is a tricky thing – you never know what it is until you experience it yourself," the school shrink tells him, in that trained, flat voice that shows how little he cares, "To every person it's different, so it's normal for you to feel anger,"
Bakugou has never lost anything before – not a pet, not a friend, not a relative, not even a game against a classmate. He's never faced consequences either, living his life blissfully unaware of regret.
He's been king all his life, one that others regarded with nothing short of respect and admiration. Then suddenly his kingdom comes crashing down, all because Deku chose to follow orders, for once.
He begins to understand irony that day.
xxx
The only thing Katsuki knows about death and loss, he knows from cheesy anime him and Deku used to watch together after kindergarten.
In his mind funerals becomes synonymous with rain and black umbrellas, accompanied by soft, bittersweet music. Izu-kun would always cry at the scenes while Bakugou rolled his eyes, shook his head and muttered,
"This is so fucking cheesy."
Deku would tare at him with eyes wide and impossibly round and shush him not to swear as he put a chubby, pale hand over his mouth.
"Don't say bad words, Kacchan!"
More often than not they'd fall asleep on the couch, snuggled in a heap of warmth.
The memory is distant and faded, as though a figment of a dream.
(He'd rather die than admit he remembers those small moments between them, soaked in nostalgia).
"Katsuki?" his mother's voice is soft these days and he hates it, wishing desperately for her to yell and swear at him – anything to punish him.
"What the hell do you want, old hag?" he demands, not bothering to look up from the superhero magazine he's spent the last thirty minutes staring into without reading a single word.
"Watch your tongue, you ungrateful brat!"
He welcomes the harsh tone, despite the evident lack of energy behind it. There's a beat of silence and he struggles to come up with something to say only for his mother to speak first,
"The funeral is today,"
Bakugou shuts his eyes closed, as if he could forget. Mitsuki appears to wait for an answer but he has none,
"Here are your clothes, we'll be going in thirty minutes."
The door slams shuts and suddenly he's claustrophobic in his own room, glaring daggers at the black suit before him. Absentmindedly he has to wonder why the hell they even make clothes like that for kids.
Then he remembers Deku's probably wearing the same kind of suit, for the rest of eternity.
xxx
The funeral is during spring, on a sunny, warm day early May when no one should visit a place like a cemetery.
Bakugou's never bothered pay attention to nature, unlike stupid Deku who would always take pictures of blooming trees and mumble nonsense about how pretty the scenery is.
"Kacchan, wanna play in the forest?"
Midoriya loved every single season, no exceptions and never failed to marvel at them.
"Do you wanna make a snowman?"
A gloved hand outstretched to him, mossy green curls under a beanie…He can almost hear the other's childish voice, the way he sounded like a girl – something he teased him endlessly about.
(Sometimes he wished Deku was a girl. In a world like this, it would make things simpler).
"Wanna go to the beach?"
He'd said no every single time, no matter how many times Izuku asked, stretching a small, pale hand for him to hold. He'd slapped it a thousand times and more before littering his skin with bruises.
(There was a fleeting moment – one he barely remembers - when Katsuki liked Izuku's pale skin, the way freckles contrasted against milky white. He liked his vibrant green eyes, the messy curly hair. It made him look like a girl and yet he wasn't.
And it was wrong, wrong, wrong to like a boy when you are one.
So of course in his mind, it was easier to garnish the skin with bruises.
He didn't naturally hate Izuku, he taught himself to.)
"Deku would have liked this," a small, annoying voice at the back of his mind informs. He'd appreciate the flower petals that litter the ground and decorate the black clothes of everyone who's come: In total four people.
"Izuku baby, why did you have to leave me?"
What gets him the most is Inko: the loud sobs escaping her parted lips, mumbling nonsense as she towers above a closed coffin filled with the remains of her son. Saying her last goodbye, parting ways with her child, the way no parent should…it all looks wrong, wrong, wrong.
Katsuki's guilt is overwhelming, bubbling over and escaping him in the form of ugly screams. A few fat tears roll down his cheeks without his permission and make their way onto the fresh, vibrant green of the grass. The saturated colour clashes horribly against the white of the tombstones, much like Deku's hair against unnaturally pale skin.
In the end he runs away – if Izuku can give up, so can he.
xxx
(Present)
Bakugou finds a pair of underwear and newly bought clothes at the edge of the tub.
He puts the jeans on quickly, annoyed but not surprised they fit perfectly – Deku has always been good at observing.
Before putting on his shirt the door creaks open and Midoriya stumbles in – even as a villain he's as clumsy as ever.
Their eyes collide for a short moment, before the other's gaze travels down, falling over his chest.
He doesn't miss the way green irises trail over his defined muscles, taking in stray, pale scars. For whatever reason a spark of something ignites within him and his sides are flustered.
"Don't stand there, watching me like some fucking creep!" he barks out, hastily putting a cotton red T-shirt on.
"Sorry!" Deku all but wails and it makes him stare at him because for the first time since he came back from the dead and into his life, he actually sounds like the boy he knew a life time ago.
Katsuki's lips curl into a smirk,
"Don't apologize you damn idiot," he grunts but there's an ounce of amusement to his voice, "You even suck at being a villain!"
Izuku's shoulders drop at the words and he can see something in his eyes harden, the atmosphere between them shifting. He remains silent on their way back, this time without resistance. After all, bad temper or not, he doesn't want to get his brain fried or worse – feel all those horrifying emotions.
The villain leaves him with a tray full of fast food and he's quick to retrieve, pale fingers already on the bars of the cell.
"Wait!"
The look on Deku's face as he turns around is surprised, almost hopeful.
Katsuki takes a deep breath,
"When will you tell me what the hell's going on?" he demands harshly, his anger flaring,
Izuku's voice is nonchalant and flat in his ears, "What do you want to know?"
Bakugou has the urge to snort but presses against it,
"Oh, I don't know…maybe how the fuck are you alive after you…"
The words hang in the stale air of the cell, threatening with their implications.
He can't quite describe the look Deku gives him, he's never seen one like that before,
"After I killed myself…like you told me to."
Katsuki can't handle the inquisitive green eyes, the demand for answers in them. He looks away, feeling like a coward for the second time in his life.
Midoriya sits opposite him, pulling his legs to his chest, as if to protect himself. It's ironic – after all isn't he supposed to be the bad guy now?
"I could tell you everything," he begins, as though narrating a show, "But you might find it a little hard to believe…So I'd better show you. After all it's time you see what I can do."
Author's Note: So, yay for a little cliff hanger! As the story goes on you'll find I have a thing for them!
What did you think of the interactions between the two? Do you think Katsuki is in character? He feels very guilt about what happened but I didn't want him to come off as cheesy or too mellow. (Not a fan of when that happens).
What do you think will Deku show Kacchan?
Thanks to all the lovely people who wrote me a line: Guest, Love, Catkitten, Ellie purple, RoseAuthor98, UnknownUnseenUnheard, Guest, Carrot, Lollipop12, Guest, Gaheller Saberhagen
Gaheller Saberhagen - you're really sweet! And you made a good guess! ^^
Please leave your thoughts, I love hearing from other MHA fans!