Disclaimer: I don't own My Hero Academia and any of its characters used in this fanfic.
A/N: A commenter from Chapter 8 of Change of Heart wanted to know Tsuyu's perspective. I originally planned to write this much later, but while the flames were lit from all the anonymous comments I had received on AO3, I took that opportunity to start working on the first draft of this one-shot.
Sometimes, we never know even the simplest of actions that we do affect another person so much that, at that moment, they'll remember it (and potentially cherish it) forever. I wanted to convey this with Tsuyu's feelings and relationship with Katsuki prior to Change of Heart while also clarifying her characterization in the context of my fanfic, and I hope I did this justice.
This is going to be more of a difficult read, compared to Change of Heart, so please be prepared for that. (For the record, Tsuyu's mentally healthier by the time Change of Heart takes place.)
Cultural notes:
1. When it comes to Valentine's Day in Japanese culture, only women give chocolate to men, whereas men give chocolate (back) to women on White Day. Honmei choco is chocolate that women give to a man she has feelings for or is confessing to, whereas giri choco is chocolate that's more obligatory from the woman (e.g., friendship or respect). This is something that I couldn't quite figure out how to convey in American English (especially because in American culture, Valentine's Day is treated as a platonic, familial, and romantic day to spread love to the ones you appreciate). After some debating, I decided to stick with the original Japanese wording.
2. Escalator schools are schools that offer education for students in Japan from elementary (or middle) to high school and offer them direct admittance into a university. (For context, compulsory education in Japan is from elementary to the end of middle school, which means that students are not required to attend high school.) This is usually a big deal in Japan because entrance exams are oftentimes stressful for students since they typically experience it first as middle school students for placement into a desired high school and then once more to gain entrance into a desired top university. I took some liberty with this concept and made U.A. into an escalator school that is always accepting students into their high school faction for direct admittance into the University of Tokyo (Todai).
Content warnings:
- teenage heartbreak and angst
- low self-esteem
- references to unhealthy beauty standards, including body imagery
- implied/referenced child parentification, eldest child syndrome, past bullying, and emotional child neglect
Down in Flames
When Tsuyu woke up for the first day of her first year in high school, she wanted to stay in bed—not to think about school or anything else—yet she forced herself to get ready as normal. She could hear the screaming and laughter from Samidare, her 10-year-old brother, and Satsuki, her 6-year-old sister, who were already awake and eating breakfast.
Tsuyu made her way to the kitchen and dining table after waking up, and as she had always expected, Beru, her mother, looked at her in relief.
"Tsuyu, honey, I need you to pick your brother and sister up after school today," Beru said.
"Mama!" Satsuki exclaimed.
"Yes, yes, hang on, I need to talk to your big sister, okay?"
"Yeah, be quiet, Satsuki!" Samidare exclaimed. "You're so loud!"
Satsuki pouted. "Nuh-uh!"
"Yuh-huh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Yuh-huh!"
Beru let out an exasperated sigh, but she gave Tsuyu a weary smile. "Do you think you can pick them up from school, honey?"
Tsuyu let out a smile, hoping that her exhaustion wasn't evident. "Sure."
"Can you also pick up some groceries?" Ganma, her father, then asked, rushing through the kitchen.
"Honey, why are you back so soon?" Beru asked, her eyes wide.
"I forgot my tools! I misplaced them again."
"Oh, honey—"
"I know, I know," Ganma interrupted, already digging through the drawers. "I'm getting old—"
"I found them last night, Dad," Tsuyu interrupted, suppressing that feeling once more as she continued to smile. "They're near the back door."
Ganma let out a sigh of relief and hugged Tsuyu. "Thank you, sweetheart."
Tsuyu let out a laugh, letting that feeling escape her. "It's not a problem. And I can pick up groceries, too. Maybe Samidare and Satsuki can come with me?"
"Oooh, can we get cereal?" Samidare asked, his eyes wide with excitement.
"Mama said no sugar!" Satsuki interrupted.
Samidare shushed her and stuck out his tongue.
"We'll see," Tsuyu replied, already grabbing two pieces of toast that had butter on them and heading toward the door.
"Oh, sweetheart, shouldn't you have some more?" Beru asked in concern, already calling out after Tsuyu.
Tsuyu knew that she should've had more—but she felt it again, that feeling that she tried to bury deep down and not let her family know—and she forcefully bit and chewed the toast, hoping it'd suppress anything else she felt.
"I'm good!" Tsuyu called before she put on her shoes and then ran out the door.
Right. Another day to tackle. She just had to get through another day.
Tsuyu was an observant person. She always had been—from when she was a child, especially after her siblings were born, to when she'd notice how others would look at her compared to other girls—all starting in elementary school. She could recall how other girls made fun of her big round eyes—the eyes her parents doted on her so much for—to her large "man hands" to how petite she was.
She hoped that things wouldn't repeat themselves in high school. She purposely applied to this school because aside from U.A. being an escalator school for Todai, she hoped that things would be different.
She had already made a note of the types of characters in her class, ranging from the energetic ones to the quiet ones, when she first arrived. She recognized some of the faces from the opening ceremony and, through her years of observation, noticed how each person had characteristics that made them unique. It wasn't hard for her, after all, to quickly understand or gain a glimpse into people's characters.
She picked up on the intelligent, beautiful Momo; the hyperactive, loving Mina Ashido; the bubbly, goal-setting Ochaco Uraraka; and many other girls in her class. The boys, she could slowly decipher one by one. She even recognized Fumikage Tokoyami, who she had greeted, and they both reminisced about what things used to be like at their previous school.
One boy named Katsuki Bakugo stood out to her the moment he walked into the door, all because of his striking blond hair, his piercing angry red eyes, and the permanent scowl etched on his face.
She recalled Katsuki as one of the boys who had nearly started a fight on the day of the opening ceremony because another upperclassman had supposedly run into him, and a part of her wondered if it was due to his bright hair and red eyes.
Based on his demeanor, she decided that it was better to steer clear of him.
Tsuyu realized later that year that steering clear of Katsuki Bakugo was much more difficult than she thought.
First, she became close friends with Ochaco, which she was so, so, so thankful for because, for once, she had a healthy friendship with another girl.
Second, Ochaco was friends with Izuku Midoriya…who was childhood friends with Katsuki Bakugo.
Third, even if Tsuyu tried to avoid him, Katsuki was also friends with Eijiro Kirishima, who was close friends with Mina.
Tsuyu was stuck in a bind, but she realized from these interactions that, despite how outgoing the group was as high school students, Katsuki came off as quiet and grumpy. She realized that, while she wasn't close with him, maybe he was different from the preconception she had of him from the first day of school.
Tsuyu started to pick up on the wandering eyes within her group: Izuku would look at Ochaco a certain way, Ochaco and Izuku would have moments of shy laughter and blushing they'd think they were hiding, and vice versa; Eijiro would flirt with Mina, Mina would snort and flirt back, and it was obvious they liked each other.
The group dynamic was clear, and Tsuyu had a feeling that, at some point, couples would happen—except, she realized an oddity one day.
Tsuyu, the observant person she was, noticed Katsuki's gaze change and how it was redirected—toward Ochaco.
And, as the observant person she was, Tsuyu stayed silent—for the sake of harmony within her circle of friends and mutual ones.
One day, a month before the end of her first year at U.A., Tsuyu felt like crying after school when everyone started to head to their afterschool clubs.
Tsuyu wanted to talk with Ochaco again about her family situation because Ochaco understood her circumstances—the constant pressure, the inability to say "no" to her own family, the lack of boundaries—yet the only way she could reach Ochaco was through LINE and in between classes because Ochaco was out sick with a cold.
Honey, can you take care of the cell phone billing when you get home? Beru had texted. I need to pick up Samidare and Satsuki. Oh, and your father asked for help with—
Tsuyu didn't want to read anymore. She just really, really wanted to cry—but she couldn't. She was at school. She had to appear like she was fine and that she was okay because her family mattered, because harmony mattered, because the shame that she was faced to bear after the last time she didn't agree to help—
"Why are you just standing there?"
Tsuyu flinched and turned her head, realizing that Katsuki was right next to her. She stuffed her phone into her blazer's pocket and hoped that Katsuki didn't see.
"If you don't like talking to me, you could just say so," Katsuki added dryly.
"No, it's not that," Tsuyu replied calmly as she averted her gaze, catching from her peripheral vision how he had stiffened and said nothing. When she looked at him again, she added, "I was just thinking about stuff."
Katsuki scoffed. "If you say so."
Just before Katsuki turned and stepped away, Tsuyu cleared her throat and caught his attention once more. "Do…Do you have siblings?"
"No."
"Oh."
There was an awkward, long pause of silence.
Tsuyu tried to think of what else to say, especially as she watched how Katsuki raised an eyebrow at her as if prompting her to continue, and she averted her gaze again. "That's all I wanted to say. Really."
Tsuyu expected him to leave at that point, but instead, she heard him let out an aggravated sigh. When she finally looked at him, she noticed that his face was contorted into a strange expression that she couldn't quite recognize on him.
"Look," Katsuki said, licking his lips in hesitation. "I know we don't talk much, but if something's bothering you, then say something about it."
Tsuyu blinked, this time her eyes wide, as she stared at him in silence.
"Don't just stay quiet about it," Katsuki added, this time his voice clear and resolute. "No one's going to know how you feel until you say something about it. None of us are mind readers, after all."
"I… What?"
"You looked different," Katsuki replied, this time with his signature scowl on his face. "You didn't look like how you normally do."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Tsuyu didn't know how to respond.
"I'm heading out," Katsuki finally said as he turned around, already preparing to leave. "Talk to Uraraka when you get the chance, by the way. Deku was nagging at me to check in with you because Uraraka's out today."
"Okay," Tsuyu muttered, her gaze still in shock. When he was finally gone—the sound of their classroom door sliding shut—Tsuyu let out a small sigh.
Ochaco had always lent an ear for her and listened—but never did Tsuyu hear something like this from anyone.
Here Katsuki was, telling her the truth that Tsuyu never once considered—a truth that, in a way, for once made Tsuyu question everything she had dealt with thus far.
Tsuyu wanted to thank Katsuki the following year when they became second-year students for telling her the truth—the truth that, in a way, shattered her world and made her realize that she didn't always have to feel that way.
She was aware that if she did thank him, though, it'd be awkward and weird. After all, how could he possibly remember one of the few interactions they had when they were only mutual friends—if not that, then just complete acquaintances?
Tsuyu grew to recognize the type of person Katsuki was as their second year of high school passed. Although he had a temper, he was intelligent and blunt. A part of her couldn't help but think that, deep down, that bluntness was combined with what he intended to be kindness.
Still, she didn't know much about him, nor had they interacted much at this point, but that didn't stop her occasional wandering gaze to Katsuki—the Katsuki Bakugo who planted a seed in her brain and, if not that, then also her heart.
Tsuyu wanted to thank him with chocolate on Valentine's Day—before their second year together was over. When she heard that Ochaco and Mina were planning to give giri chocolates to the guys, they decided to make chocolates together and, at Tsuyu's suggestion, bake brownies as well.
Tsuyu wanted to be honest like Katsuki was with her. She wanted to give him honmei choco and tell him how much he had affected her with his words, how thankful she was—how much his words, despite how small they were, were enough to get her to change, if only a bit.
When Valentine's Day rolled around, Tsuyu grew nervous. How would he react? She already gave her giri choco to Izuku and Eijiro as thanks for being her friends, even though they weren't that close. Both Mina and Ochaco told her good luck with her honmei choco—even though Tsuyu hadn't told them who the recipient was.
Tsuyu finally found Katsuki on campus after school ended, and amongst the crowd of students heading to their afterschool clubs, she rushed to him. "Wait, Bakugo!"
Katsuki stopped and turned around, easily finding her in the crowd. "What is it, Asui?"
"Uh, well…" Tsuyu felt her nervousness grow, especially in such a public place—but she knew that if anyone deserved honesty and directness, he did. Yet, no matter how much she tried, she couldn't bring herself to dig into her bag and give him her chocolate—even after the hallway was starting to look empty.
"Asui?" Katsuki asked. "What's up?"
"Did you get any chocolates today?"
"Uh, I got the giri ones from Uraraka and Ashido already during lunchtime."
And then, Tsuyu remembered—she remembered how pointless it was for her to make the chocolate. How could she have forgotten?
Eijiro liked Mina; Mina liked Eijiro.
Izuku liked Ochaco; Ochaco liked Izuku.
Katsuki liked Ochaco.
Katsuki liked Ochaco.
Katsuki liked Ochaco.
As every second passed, Tsuyu felt the courage she had to confess to Katsuki slowly dwindle because she knew that even if she tried, nothing would change. He wouldn't look her way the way he did at Ochaco because she never caught his attention and never would, not with how she currently was and the way she looked—
"Asui? Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Tsuyu said with a smile—the same smile she always wore around her parents—before she dug into her bag, suppressing her feelings, and handed Katsuki her honmei choco. "I forgot to give you my giri choco, too. I left it at my desk."
Katsuki took the chocolate with a look of surprise on his face. "Oh. Thanks."
"Yeah, I just wanted to give you that before I forget," Tsuyu replied, preparing to turn and walk away. "See you tomorrow."
Katsuki nodded and waved, already walking off with her chocolate stuffed in his backpack—her honmei choco that she didn't dare confess.
"So?" Ochaco eagerly asked her as soon as she and Tsuyu were in Ochaco's family's living room. "How did it go?"
"How did what go?" Tsuyu asked, hoping that Ochaco wouldn't press further on it.
"Oh, come on, don't play dumb, Tsu!" Ochaco exclaimed as she plopped down onto the couch. "You got away earlier by asking me how things went with me and Deku—"
"Yeah, and you lost all courage to confess, so you told him it's giri choco—"
"Hey!" Ochaco interrupted, her face completely red. "I had my reasons!"
"I know," Tsuyu replied as she let out a laugh, and as seconds passed, her smile began to drop as she recalled how she gave Katsuki her chocolate.
"So, who was the honmei choco for?"
"No one."
At this, Ochaco stared at Tsuyu in disbelief and began to frown in concern. "Tsu…"
Tsuyu sighed.
"Do I need to kick his butt? Mina and I can gang up on him—"
"No, it's not like that," Tsuyu interrupted, letting out another laugh. "I, um… I gave it to him, but I mean, you know."
"Aw, Tsu… He'd be a dummy to reject you!"
"No, he wouldn't be. And he didn't reject me yet, anyway."
"What? Wait, Tsu—"
"He doesn't like me, so I didn't see the point in confessing," Tsuyu replied, already feeling her rational side take over. "It would've been pointless for me to do so—"
"Tsuyu."
Tsuyu stayed silent, hearing Ochaco's stern tone come through, and she shut her mouth.
"Don't you dare tell me that it was pointless! You put all that effort into making chocolate for him—"
"So did you—"
"That's different because Deku and I are already friends! I don't even know the guy you wanted to give your honmei choco to! For all I know, he could've been one of those third-year guys who totally have a crush on you!"
Tsuyu sighed. "Ochaco, I told you, there's no one like that—"
"Don't make me bring Mina into this for proof! She has her connections to prove it!"
Tsuyu resisted the urge to sigh again and instead averted her gaze. "I…I just didn't see the point—"
"That doesn't matter! It's closure for you!"
Tsuyu blinked, stunned at what Ochaco said. "What?"
Ochaco gave a small regretful smile. "You know, if he rejected you, that'd be because you wouldn't have to talk to him or interact with him… You'd get closure from just his rejection alone."
Tsuyu's eyes widened as she watched Ochaco's gaze slowly change from concern to fear—a look she knew all too well herself. "Ochaco… Don't tell me that's the reason why you decided not to confess to Midoriya."
Ochaco nodded.
"Ochaco…"
"I don't mean to make this about me, but I am serious: I'd rather you, as my best friend, get closure rather than stay heartbroken, you know?"
"I know," Tsuyu muttered before she gave Ochaco a small hug—a hug that she also needed. "To be honest…"
"Yeah?"
"I didn't see the point in confessing because nothing would've changed."
Ochaco backed away, if only for a bit to look at Tsuyu in confusion. "What do you mean? If you confessed, he would've at least known—"
"No, that's not what I mean." Tsuyu hesitated, shifting her gaze to the floor. She didn't want to tell Ochaco about her insecurities—her deeply rooted low self-esteem that she didn't want Ochaco to become wary about.
"Tsu, you know you can tell me anything," Ochaco said gently.
"I know. I just…" Tsuyu let out an exasperated sigh—one that she knew made Ochaco's eyes grow wide in concern because the only times she ever did that so far were always related to her parents. "I just don't want to hurt you in the process."
"What?" Ochaco asked, her brow furrowing. "I don't understand why…" Ochaco's voice trailed off as her eyes slowly grew wide and her face blanched. "Wait, Tsu, don't tell me—"
"Yeah," Tsuyu muttered. "He, uh, he likes you."
"Oh, my God," Ochaco said, already standing up and starting to clench her fists, and she turned to face Tsuyu, her face distorted in emotions. "Tsu, I'm so sorry—"
"Ochaco, please, it's not your fault—"
"No, this happened in middle school again, and it's a repeat of it all again—"
"Ochaco!" Tsuyu exclaimed, enough that it grabbed Ochaco's attention and made her stop—her face in shock, but Tsuyu knew it was enough to get her to stop spiraling into self-blame. "It's not your fault. I don't blame you."
"B-But—"
"Ochaco, why wouldn't anyone like you?"
"But—"
"Ochaco, I mean it."
Ochaco shut her mouth and averted her gaze. "I can't believe I did it again…"
"It is not your fault," Tsuyu reaffirmed, her tone stern this time that even made Ochaco flinch and hesitate to make eye contact with her. "He likes you, but…I think anyone with a brain would see that you and Midoriya have something going on, so he doesn't bother either."
Ochaco frowned. "Do…Do I know him?"
Tsuyu sighed, already knowing where this was heading. "Does that matter?"
"Of course it does! You, my best friend, like him for almost a year now—"
"Ochaco, please—"
"No! I'm upset because you deserve the best! You know what? Mina and I should set you up with one of the third-years who's totally into you—"
"Ochaco—"
"He really is!"
"Ochaco, please!" Tsuyu exclaimed again, this time her exasperated tone seeping through as she gave a small glare—a rare one—to her friend that made Ochaco give a sheepish smile in response. "I'm fine."
"But you told me that he was the first one to make you want to change, Tsu," Ochaco pressed, already going back to Tsuyu and holding her hands. She tightened her grip as she frowned, her brow furrowing. "I just want the best for you, and you always told me how he inspired you to change."
"I know," Tsuyu muttered, tightening her grip on Ochaco's hands as she tried to suppress Katsuki's remnants of a lingering, pining gaze toward Ochaco—one that she knew he couldn't control, one that she tried to forget—and she sighed. "I just think it's better to not tell him. It's not like he and I know each other well enough that it'd change anything anyway."
"Okay," Ochaco replied before she hugged Tsuyu—tightly, lovingly, sisterly regardless of the differences in their blood. "I'm always going to be here for you."
Tsuyu laughed and hugged Ochaco back. "Me, too."
Even into the next year, their third and final year at U.A., watching Katsuki's gaze continually linger pained her. At some point, she did recognize when his gaze changed from pining to conflict—and she knew all too well why.
Like her, Katsuki recognized his place as someone who couldn't interfere between Ochaco and Izuku.
Like her, Tsuyu recognized where she stood in Katsuki's eyes—that he would never see her in that way, no matter how hard she tried.
Despite that, she made her decisions thanks to how much Katsuki's words had affected her—enough for her to change her direction and career and where she wanted to truly go with her future.
When spring break came around, Tsuyu knew, with one last glance at Katsuki's back, that she had to say goodbye to whatever remnants of her feelings she felt for him because nothing would come to fruition, nothing would change, and he would ever look her way—but that was all right for Tsuyu.
Her crush—admiration, love, feelings, whatever she felt was appropriate for how she felt for Katsuki because she didn't know how best to describe it—for Katsuki Bakugo would go down in flames, but with that came what she learned—to be better, to advocate for herself, to look toward her future.
And for that, she'd always be grateful to Katsuki, even if he'd never know how much he affected her.