A/N: Okay, okay, I said the worst of the Bakugou bashing is done. Really, it is. I wasn't lying about that.
BUT, however, haven't you ever wondered what would have happened if he met Izuku's father...?
(Bold-italic font is characters speaking English. It only really pops up once, but just to let you know.)
"Stay close," Endeavor ordered the two boys as they walked the bustling streets of Tokyo. "I know they may not be here, but I don't want either of you running into trouble."
Bakugou and Todoroki walked silently behind the hero, sober faces scanning the crowds. Several tourists - probably American, judging by their rapid whispering and pointing - watched them walk. Neither of them could get used to being ogled by the public despite their faces being known across the country.
"Americans are so strange," Todoroki mused to himself as he spared the middle-aged tourists a glance. "I've heard their heroes keep themselves away from the general public. How on earth do they ever get things done with civilians getting excited every time one of them gets called to solve a problem?"
Bakugou ignored the staring and whispers, walking with purpose. His hands were in loose fists inside the gauntlets, his head high and his gaze forward.
"Excuse me, Endeavor," a civilian man in a sharp suit and tie called sheepishly in broken Japanese.
When the hero looked over at the short man, he continued, "I am lost. Do you speak English?"
"A little," he answered gruffly.
Almost immediately the businessman's face melted in relief. "I want to get to Namicorp building, but some of these signs are confusing me."
"Namicorp…" he muttered to himself. "Okay, here. I'm going to write kanji for you to find."
While he spoke to the smaller man, Todoroki and Bakugou stood a couple of feet away awkwardly.
"Y'know, Uraraka was still upset about the argument," he mentioned.
The blond's jaw tightened. "I've already forgiven her," he tersely answered.
"She knows that." Nodding, he shrugged. "She's not used to you treating her gently."
"It's not gonna change anything if I'm nice or not, so it doesn't matter."
Todoroki glanced his way. "You may not see a change, but others will."
He didn't respond, instead frowning at something nearby. "Wait here. Something feels off."
"But my father said-"
"He's busy with someone else," he interjected. "Besides, you've never listened to him before - and my gut is telling me to check it out."
Raising his hands in surrender, the boy glanced towards his father - he was still talking to the guy? - and watched as Bakugou turned and walked down the sidewalk towards an alley.
The moment he stepped foot into the shade, his stomach churned. Something was off about this space, and every instinct in his body was screaming at him to get away now.
Swallowing, he chose to ignore it - and after a few uneasy steps further into the darkened alley, he found himself slammed against a wall.
He choked out a noise, too winded to scream.
"I knew a trip to Tokyo would be worth it today," came a familiar, awful voice. Gleaming red eyes smiled down at him in malevolent amusement. "Hello, Bakugou-kun."
His face twisted in confusion and barely-cloaked fear, scanning the taller man's shadowed visage to try and see just whose hand was gripping his windpipe so tightly.
The tall behemoth of a man chuckled as the boy squirmed, hands clutching at his sleeves and attempting to pry his fingers away. Blunt nails dug into his skin, though it was hardly painful.
"You're lucky my boy would be utterly crushed if you died," he leaned in to whisper.
His boy?
Bakugou's brow furrowed and as he searched his eyes, a twinge of deja-vu hit his mind. Something about the curve of his jaw and the cruel glint of his ruby irises made a ripple of icy fear freeze his veins.
"If he wouldn't, I wouldn't hesitate to end you in a heartbeat." His grip tightened minutely until the boy was wheezing hard, his fingernails scratching up and down his hand to get him to let go. "You've caused him enough pain, yet he just can't let you go... Pity that."
"Wh- uh- ahhht…?" Bakugou choked out, his voice a scant whimper.
"He's doing so much better without you. You know, I always hated how hung-up he was on you - I mean I may be villainous, but even I would treat those I love with less malice than that." He continued as if the boy hadn't even spoken. "You're quite lucky I was the one who bumped into you, rather than Tomura. He wants Yuuei to fall even more than I. Not surprising; I may want to bring down your school, but my goals are… loftier, shall we say."
Finally, the missing pieces of the puzzle seemed to click into place. All For One relished in the horrified stare on the face of the teenager beneath, his body completely frozen in its spot.
"Ah, there we go." Amusement colored his voice. "For one so bright, you sure took your time."
"Wh- aa…" he struggled against the man. "What… what do you want…?"
"What do I want ? What do I want…" he hummed, tapping his chin with his index finger. "I want to finally be able to give you the dressing-down you deserve, Katsuki." His eyes crinkled. "Or should I say Kacchan?"
Bakugou grit his teeth and anger roiled in his gut. "Don't…!"
"Don't what? Use that childish nickname for a child?" The man's voice grew flat. "Believe me, Katsuki, you don't deserve even a shred of my sympathy. That's not my job to provide you - you've already been given far too much."
"No, you deserve to be treated like an adult for once." Letting loose of his throat, he added, "If you scream, I don't care about appeasing him, I'm killing you right here."
Bakugou stumbled, leaning against the wall as All For One stepped back, holding his throat and quietly gasping for air.
"Hm, perhaps killing you would be too harsh," he observed. "Maybe taking away your Quirk instead would finally get you to wake up. Would you like that? Forced to live the rest of your days as a Quirkless…" he leaned in, "... little…" in a whisper, "... freak."
The blond flinched back, glaring into his face with all the aggression he could muster.
"Isn't that what you've been saying to Midoriya Izuku all these years? That he's a nothing, a nobody, a freak?" He questioned. "That he wasn't worth your time because he was defective, or disabled, or cursed?"
The boy looked away, but in the next moment All For One's hand gripped his chin and forced him to look him right in the eye.
"Believe it or not, Katsuki, but I don't hate you for how you've acted all these years." He admitted. "I don't. In fact, I pity you."
The blond's jaw clenched.
The villain smiled, a sickly-sweet smile spreading across his face. "I pity you for how you've been groomed to see yourself as this indestructible, infallible paragon of Quirked society. I pity you for nobody bothering to police your behavior until you became so proud of yourself that you decided to tell a child to kill himself."
He could have choked. "You-! I didn't- how- who-?!"
"I have my ways of finding out the sordid details, Katsuki." His grip tightened on the boy's jaw. "I still believe you would make a decent villain… but not the way you are now. You're far too untamed and self-centered to even make a decent hero . I know it burns to hear that you need to change yourself to align with your goals, but the sooner someone gets it through your head the better. You're selfish and rude to your peers and teachers, you disrespect those you consider beneath you, and not even All Might would want you under his wing."
"Shut up! I'm not getting lectured by you; you almost killed All Might! You're the worst person in Japan! You make me sick! I'm nothing like you!"
"You're right about one thing. You're nothing like me." All For One's face grew cold. "I was born in an era where Quirks were considered a curse - where those with supernatural ability were hunted and considered monstrous by their friends and families. I grew up during a war between the Quirked and Quirkless, and I had to drag myself above by any means necessary. I have had to fight for everything I have, and it took rigid self-discipline and charisma to attain it." Gesturing broadly, he continued, "But you? You're a selfish, spoiled brat who's never been chastised for his misbehavior, a brat who was groomed by every adult in his life to believe that he was the second coming of All Might for how dangerous his Quirk could become. You have spent nearly your entire life terrorizing someone because you feel threatened by their tenacity and ability to adapt to hardship, something you still prove unable to do despite getting a wake-up call from your time at Yuuei." His eyes flashed. "Honestly, if I must give them anything, I have to admit they've done a good job teaching you the cruelties of being a pro hero."
"And you're so much better than me?" Bakugou balked. "Someone so hated that they had to lock you up in Tartarus for the rest of time?"
"People fear what they cannot understand. Surely you would understand that. I was imprisoned because I was careless and was caught - but I have no plans to go back. I'm going to take what's rightfully mine, and nobody, not even the new number one, can stop me."
"Yeah, like I'm gonna believe that." Rolling his eyes, the boy folded his arms across his chest.
"Believe what you will about me, I'm not affected. Not like you." With a cruel smile, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "You truly have no idea how lucky you've been, do you? Had you been born into a lower class, you would not have been held in awe. You would have been hated. The police would not help you, the heroes would hold you in contempt - you would not love and hate yourself as much as you do."
"You know nothing about what I feel," the teenager snarled.
"Oh, don't I?" Pulling his hand back, the villain laughed as tiny explosions popped and crackled in his palm.
A cold chill ran through Bakugou's entire form. Somehow he wasn't quite sure if it were due to the sudden icy stun of panic, or due to the lack of power he could feel thrumming through his body.
"G- give it back!" He shouted, leaping at the man. "GIVE IT BACK!"
"Live among people long enough and you begin to see the same types again and again," All For One commented nonchalantly, slapping his other hand over the boy's mouth and holding him firmly against the wall. His feet dangled helplessly. "Despite believing themselves to be so unique, humanity has its tropes, just as anything does. The painfully-kindhearted, those who would put another life before their own with no hesitation at all; the cunning and conniving, those who lie and cheat and steal as naturally as breathing. Dull, sullen people who prefer not to show their emotions, the passionate who wear their hearts on their sleeves, those with hearts deep as vantablack, those who struggle between morality and immorality, those so proud of the little they accomplish that they demand subservience from others based on ego…"
As he raised his hand again, no explosions tickled his skin. "Just as humanity has its theories about this or that, whether or not Quirks dictate how a person will act as they grow, it has its cycles. And you are no exception."
Bakugou stared at his hands, visible relief painting his face. It made the villain's lip curl into the ghost of a sneer.
"You may think you're too important to lose, but I must remind you… you are not." All For One leaned in close. "Nor are you not important enough to leave be. You are simply you, and the you that I see needs a drastic adjustment before you will ever be worthy of the moniker of 'hero'. Tell me plainly: do you really want to become infamous for treating everyone around you with such gross disrespect? Or do you want to follow in the footsteps of your idols and change? Because the way you are now, the only person I can see you growing up to be is someone like Endeavor."
"Endeavor is Number One," Bakugou flatly replied.
"He's also quite insufferable as a person, as both civilians and heroes alike can testify." Red eyes narrowed, unimpressed at his answer. "I'm sure his son could shatter your childish illusion of goodness based on status."
Rolling his eyes, the boy pointed out, "I don't care if he's from the bowels of Hades itself, it doesn't matter given he reached his goal anyway. It's not like you need to be the nicest person on earth to be a good hero."
"Public relation is everything. If he weren't so adept at catching villains I doubt anyone would be willing to work with him. Frankly, he would make a much better villain than you might think, despite his current willfulness to change his relationship with his children. No hero worth their station would have done the things he's done to his own family."
The blond shifted uncomfortably at the reminder. Truthfully, the villain wasn't even sure he knew the gritty details - but even asking the young Todoroki would reveal enough to hopefully change his perception of the man.
Anything he could do to shake him up a bit. Surely Izuku wouldn't mind much.
"Trust me when I say your world is not black and white." All For One pressed. "People are not starkly good or evil - and the sooner you learn that lesson for good the better."
Then he perked up, glancing towards the mouth of the alley. Shifting his gaze back to the boy, his eyes narrowed.
"I believe I've spent enough time with you," he said evenly. Then his voice hardened. "Report my whereabouts, and I'll do way worse than just borrow your Quirk the next time we meet."
Then he straightened, giving the boy a pleasant-seeming smile and patting his cheek.
"Good day, Bakugo." With a flourish, he released the boy's shoulder and turned, strolling further into the alley.
Bakugou held his cheek, staring at his retreating back with a mix of humiliation and despair.
"Bakugou," a sudden call from the mouth of the alley made him flinch, turning to see Todoroki with a questioning stare on his face.
"Where have you been?" He questioned. "My father was looking for you."
For a moment, his vocal chords felt frozen. He opened and closed his mouth, but nothing escaped.
Todoroki continued to gaze at him with a growing uncertainty in his eyes.
"I…" the blond's voice faltered, but finally he swallowed, "I… I don't think Tokyo is safe."
The other boy's mouth opened, as if to reply, but in the next moment his father appeared, seemingly annoyed by the wait.
"What are you doing? We need to continue patrol," he huffed.
"There… there are villains in Tokyo, we aren't safe," Bakugou quietly answered, his voice shaking slightly. His hand remained at his cheek, his eyes downcast. "We need to leave. Immediately."
"Oh, you're home," Inko began with a weary smile as she nursed a cup of tea in her hands.
Kissing her on the cheek, Hisashi returned her warm look and settled down next to her on the couch. "How was your morning?"
"Better than last." Taking a sip, she heaved a sigh. "You were gone an awfully long time. What business did you have?"
"Just some errands, some sights to see, nothing you need to worry about, my love." With a hearty chuckle, he shook his head. "How are the boys?"
Inko gave him a look, lips pressed together, before answering, "I haven't seen much of them."
Wrapping an arm around her, he closed his eyes. "Surely Kurogiri is carrying out my orders by now. And with that brat… no doubt he's provided me a clever misdirection. And to think all it took was a one-on-one chat."
Inko's eyes turned to the window, the bustling streets awash with activity despite the calm inside. It almost felt alien to be so insulated from it all; despite years of keeping herself busy to compensate for the lack of a father for Izuku, her life had hardly been quiet. Cooking, cleaning, shopping, mothering - she had done it all, and now that Hisashi was home, the distinct lack of bustle meant restlessness.
The angry red face of a lecher ran through her mind's eye, and her stomach roiled in response. The nausea that had held her in a vice grip all morning made its bothersome appearance once more, and she had to grip her cup just a little tighter to will away the urge to heave.
Restless.
"Hisashi," she began quietly, taking another sip of tea.
"Mm?"
She refused to look his way. "What of… what of that man?"
Without skipping a beat, Hisashi's gentle hold on her arm tightened minutely. She watched as his gaze slowly turned, until his bright red irises were locked on hers.
Something in his eyes, something heavy, something… serious, made a chill go down her spine.
She knew.
How couldn't she? She wondered. Her husband was infamous for his… solutions.
"Was it quick?" She finally sighed, exhausted.
Her husband's lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile. He didn't.
"Inko, my darling… do you even need to ask?" He questioned. Though his voice was light, deceptively nonchalant, his eyes were hard. Angry.
Swallowing the bitter lurch of frustration that quickly made itself known in her gut, she shook her head and looked away.
"Good riddance," she found herself musing, and a twinge of guilt struck. "He had to have had a family somewhere… how unfortunate that he would throw them away in pursuit of greed."
Another squeeze made her shrink away from his embrace, and to her quiet relief Hisashi relented.
She didn't even want to think about his hands right now. Clean as could be, she could already visualize the invisible, clinging strands of blood trickling from his palms.
Suddenly sick, she moved to get up from the couch, his curious eyes following her as she hurried from the living room, lukewarm tea sloshing in its cup.