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Bakugou's first glimpse of the person who will go on to haunt him on all of his morning runs is of him collapsed on the ground, face down on the concrete.
It's only two weeks until his UA entrance exam, so he's been running every morning, but this is the first he's seen of this guy. He looks about his age, with messy purple hair covering the back of his head, and he may very well be knocked out cold.
That's the important part, anyway.
"Fuck, are you alright?" he asks, crouching down beside the figure. "Do you need an ambulance or something?" He's not a hero yet - hell, he's not even training to be a hero yet - but he can't just leave whoever this is lying in the street. Do I move him or keep him there? Should I roll him over so he can breathe better? Fuck, will I have to do CPR?
He doesn't see any villains around, which is a huge relief - months after the sludge villain attack and he's still not fully down to fight another one - but that doesn't mean there wasn't one here before. He considers calling the cops just in case, but decides to wait and see what the boy says first. You know, if he's conscious.
He's relieved to no end when the boy groans, rolling over so he's on his back now. He looks uninjured, but also bone tired. "Nah, I'm fine," he says slowly, looking up at Bakugou through barely-open eyes. "Just went running. Feel like death." He pauses. "Do you have any coffee on you?"
Now that Bakugou doesn't have to be worried anymore, he can safely be pissed at this bastard who had the audacity to make him concerned for a minute. "Well don't just lay on the fucking ground, or people will get weirded out. And I don't have any coffee on me."
He starts jogging off, turning his headphones back on. "And don't drink coffee after a run, drink water, fuckface," he adds, calling backwards. He doesn't owe the guy advice, but somebody has to inform the fitness-ignorant masses, and if it has to be him, then so be it.
He's extra annoyed the next day to find the same guy in the exact same position, perfectly still on the ground. At least this time he's facing upwards, and he raises a tired hand towards Bakugou when he sees him.
"Morning," he pants, perfectly monotone despite his position.
Bakugou stares at him for a moment, not even wanting to stop, but his legs pause anyway. "You're on the ground. Again." Not his most astute observation, but it's five thirty in the morning and he's not yet equipped to deal with complete dumbassery.
"I'm on my break." He reaches behind him, pulling a thermos to his face and sitting up just enough to drink from it. "Brought my own coffee today."
"You're not supposed to-" Bakugou cuts himself off, fuming. I shouldn't try to give him advice again. He doesn't deserve it. If he wants to puke his guts out after his run, then so be it. "Whatever the fuck. But if you can't go running without collapsing, then don't go running."
"I'm thriving here," the boy says, gesturing to his surroundings. "I'm just chilling." Like his face isn't pale as death, and like he isn't on the fucking ground. Bakugou doesn't know what crazy juice he spikes his coffee with, but he doesn't want to stick around and find out. Not my problem, not my problem.
Rather than respond, he runs off faster, ignoring the call of "Hey, where are you going? We were having so much fun." Not my problem.
He continues to ignore the boy for the next two weeks, staring straight ahead as the purple demon calls to him from his "chilling position" on the ground. He doesn't have time to waste on idiots, or people with death wishes, or the homeless, or whatever the fuck he is. He decides that after he gets into UA, he'll finally tell the guy off, but he won't waste his precious energy on it now. It isn't worth it.
But lo and behold, on the morning of the UA practical exam, possibly the worst time for him to stop, he does. Because for the first time in two weeks, the gremlin is standing.
"Good morning, Grumps," he says, still in his same please let me sleep voice and holding the same thermos. "Wonderful weather we're having, huh?"
"Decided to stop napping on the street?" Bakugou asks, looking him over. "What, did your mom tell you to stop getting your clothes dirty, or did you finally grow a brain?"
"First off, I don't have a mom, so jot that down," the guy says, stretching his legs. "And I have something important today and I don't want to be exhausted for it, so I went a little slower this time."
"Lemme guess, you usually run full sprint until you want to vomit, right?" Bakugou asks, and sighs at the nod he gets in response. "You're supposed to sprint for a little and then jog for a while, otherwise you'll fuck yourself up. Do you know anything about exercise?"
"It's running," the boy says, blinking at him. "What's there to know?" Bakugou's hands twitch, and a few blasts go off. He's normally able to control his quirk better, even when he's angry, but he's covered in sweat right now. He takes a step away from the boy because even though he would really rather him stay home, he doesn't actually want to injure him. Not by mistake, at least.
"Do your fucking research, I'm not your-" He pauses, remembering a split second before what the boy said about having no mom. "I'm not your dad. You're not gonna get in shape like this."
"Don't have a dad either, but thanks for the effort," the boy deadpans. "I'll keep all of your very helpful advice in mind, coach."
"I've got important shit today too, so I can't stick around for this," Bakugou says, rolling his eyes. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow, since you're always in the same place."
"Yes sir," the boy says, and watches as Bakugou jogs off, comfortably resting against a pole.
The UA practical exam is over, and Bakugou's feeling good. He blasted the fuck out of a bunch of robots, didn't get injured, and wasn't reminded once of the sludge villain incident. He's sure that he'll get his acceptance letter any day now, and just like that, his life's mission is complete.
He goes running the next day, of course, because he can't get out of shape now, and he's smiling the whole run. Nobody in his class would recognize him now, grinning from ear to ear. He's complete. He even brings an extra water bottle to throw at Purple - as he now calls the boy in his head - because he's feeling so great and generous.
"Yo," he calls when the purple mop top comes into view. He's standing again, a pleasant surprise, but his head is down. "Heads up." He tosses the water bottle, and Purple looks up just quick enough to snatch it out of the air.
"This doesn't look like coffee," he comments, and Bakugou scowls just for a moment. He can't stay angry for too long today. "But thanks. What's the occasion?"
"Hydration, bitch."
"Ah, right." He takes a sip, tucks it back under his arm, and meets Bakugou's eyes. His expression is unusually solemn. "Well, guess this is as good of a time to say it as any. I'm not going running anymore."
"The fuck do you mean?" The words slip out before Bakugou can even think about them. Sure, Purple's a pissoff who causes him physical pain every time he takes a sip of coffee, but he's become a staple of his morning run. If he's not there, how will Bakugou work up enough angry energy to keep himself going throughout the day?
"I meant what I said," he sighs, just as listlessly. "I was running in order to train for something, and I completely bombed at it. So now I'm not going to train anymore." He sits down on the edge of the curb, legs folded in front of him. "The only reason I came today at all was to tell you this. Figured at this point in our relationship it would be rude to just disappear."
Bakugou decides that this isn't the time to point out that he has more of a "relationship" with his mailman. Instead, he huffs and says, "Well obviously you completely bombed at it. I told you that you were doing it wrong a billion times. You're not gonna win any races by torturing your lungs like that, dumbass."
"You're a real good comfort, aren't you?" Purple drawls. "I'm so glad I showed up today."
"The point is, douchebag," Bakugou growls, mourning his good mood already, "that if you give up then you're a pussy. Don't. Just run like an actual human being and you'll get in shape."
"This is the meanest pep talk I've ever received," he comments, taking another sip of water. "But thank you, I think."
"Whatever." He has to stop expending so much energy on Unnamed Homeless Purple Teenager. He still has school in a few hours. "Show up tomorrow or don't, I don't give a shit. Just make a decision and stick to it."
"Will do, captain," Purple salutes, and Bakugou jogs off, not turning back. Not my problem, not my- fuck. Kind of my problem.
Unsurprisingly, Purple is there the next day. Bakugou suspected he would be, since his pep talks slap, but he wasn't entirely sure. He's not sure what emotion to feel now, honestly.
"Huh," he notes, slowing down to a stop. "So you're not a pussy."
"Don't sound so surprised," Purple replies, taking a long drag from his thermos. "And before you can start bitching at me, I brought water today. Promise."
"Finally committed to living past thirty five?"
"Well I wouldn't go that far."
Bakugou stands around for a moment longer, then turns his music back on. "Well, good luck with that," he says, and starts running, just as usual. The only difference today is that when he looks over to his left, Purple's there, actually moving for the first time in the weeks that Bakugou's known him. He pulls out an earbud, staring incredulously.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asks, controlling his breathing.
Purple looks over, unaffected. "I'm running."
"Yeah, no shit, but why are you running with me?"
"Well you said that I should do my research, and I figured, who better to learn from than my own aggressive coach?" As he says this, Bakugou can see his breath catch. His form is way off, and his steps are too small. In other words, he's going to get tired within another two minutes. Probably less.
"If you can keep up, then you do what you want," Bakugou says, and continues at the same pace, putting his other earbud in. He maps out a slightly different route for his run, since he doesn't want a rando to know where he lives, but he knows that he probably doesn't need to bother. Purple will run out of juice long before he reaches home.
Sure enough, a minute and a half later, he hears heavy gasps coming from behind him, and a strangled, "Coach, wait." He heavily considers not waiting, but knows that if he doesn't, he'll get an earful about it tomorrow.
"Tired already, Purple?" he asks, turning around to find the boy twenty feet back, laying on the sidewalk in a perfect dead man's pose. "I've been running for two years now. You can't just jump right into it like that. 'Ts fucking stupid."
"What are you going to do, knock me off the sidewalk?" the bastard asks, trying to sound indignant despite the fact that he looks five seconds from passing out on the street. "I'm doing my best, get off my back."
"I don't give a shit about you being on the sidewalk," Bakugou retorts, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. He's spent many days giving multiple shits about him being on the sidewalk. "But if you're going to try and keep up with me, you might as well do it right."
"Go on." There's a little more life in his voice, which is a good thing. Bakugou doesn't need him fainting right there in front of him.
"I'll teach you how to not kill yourself running. I actually did my research, so I know what you gotta do in order to run right."
"I'll take all the help I can get," Purple breathes, "but what's in it for you?"
What is in it for me? "I can't stand to see a sad sack be so bad at trying so hard. If you suck even when you're doing it right, that's your problem, but you sucking because you're doing it wrong feels like an insult to me."
"So sorry that my existence is a burden to you," Purple says, tracing a fake tear down his cheek. "But if you're helping me, then I guess you can't be totally self absorbed. You're semi-chill in my books."
"Is it too late to take my offer back?"
"Absolutely."
Training Purple, Bakugou finds, isn't as hard as he originally thought it would be. He figured that he would get annoyed with him after a while, since running used to be his time to be alone, but he finds that his company isn't overwhelming. Purple excels at staying low energy, something Bakugou couldn't appreciate more at five in the morning, and he doesn't go on and on when he talks like some people in Bakugou's class.
Plus, he's blunt, and he can take shit as well as he can give it. In other words, he's a brick wall. And it takes a brick wall to be acquaintances with Bakugou.
As for the actual training, Bakugou remembers enough of it from when he first started seriously working out, but he searches some things online anyway. What to eat and drink, what not to eat and drink, stretches, warmups, the whole schtick.
"Are you one of those ultra organized people who have a folder for everything?" Purple asks when presented with the stack of papers. "I can sense it off of you. Like a really clean and neat aura."
"No, shut the fuck up," Bakugou lies, almost incinerating the stack but stopping just in time.
"You are, I know it. You probably have a pencil case just for your highlighters."
"Shut up."
Their schedule works as such: at five thirty in the morning, Bakugou leaves his house. He reaches their meeting point at around five forty, and then takes a short break to watch Purple do his stretches. They talk for a few minutes, and then run together for as long as they can before Purple starts turning blue in the face. Bakugou continues on ahead, Purple stays behind to rest some more, and they repeat the next day.
They don't talk about personal things like home or school. Bakugou knows that Purple doesn't have parents, but he also doesn't think he lives on the street. He seems to be doing fine, so he doesn't ask about it. In turn, Purple doesn't ask about his home life, a topic that Bakugou loves nothing more than to avoid at all costs. Bitching about his parents is only fun for a little while before he remembers that he has to go home to them.
He doesn't know what school Purple goes to, but he's sure it's hard, since Purple's mentioned the all nighters he pulls once or twice. He doesn't mention UA either, because if he brings up UA then he's sure Purple will be all over him, asking about what it's like to go there. Bakugou gets enough of that from his old middle school followers. He doesn't need it from Purple.
He especially appreciates Purple not knowing about him going to UA when all the shit there starts. It's bad enough that his whole class is fawning over their five seconds of fame from the USJ incident, despite the fact that they really could've all almost died, while the other class fumes that it wasn't them getting attacked by villains. He doesn't want pity, or awe, or anything, really. He just wants to forget it for a while, and Purple lets him do so.
"Is it weird that we don't know each other's names?" he asks one day. His endurance is getting a lot better, both from practice and because his breathing is improving. Now he can run with Bakugou for up to seven minutes, and he doesn't fall on the sidewalk anymore. A modern miracle, really.
"Nah," Bakugou says. He doesn't really care about learning Purple's name - he barely knows the names of his classmates - and he doesn't see the point of giving up his own. In the worst case scenario, Purple would find out about the sludge villain incident through it, and that'd just kill the mood. "Why, sick of being called Purple?"
"Not the worst nickname I've had," he comments lightly. "Loads better than what they used to call me in grade school."
"Which was?"
"Doesn't matter. Little kids are bastards."
"Abso-fucking-lutely." Sure, Bakugou himself was a little shit as a kid - and for a while after that - but it only makes him more able to process how awful they are. His own awfulness serves as an example to how bitchy kids can be.
They keep running, and neither of them mentions names again.
The sports festival, in Bakugou's opinion, is just what he needs to make a name for himself at UA. One of his minor goals, past "Get into UA," was always to win the sports festival and have everyone in the country know it. So when it's announced, he can't contain a little rush of excitement at the thought of finally getting to actually go for it.
The randos blocking the door help keep him somber, though.
"They're scouting out the competition," he explains to everyone else, like it isn't obvious. "We're the ones who survived a real villain attack. They want to see us with their own eyes."
He walks to the edge of the door, where the crowd starts. "At least now you know what a real future pro looks like. Now move it, extras." He doesn't have time to waste arguing with them. He wants to start his training as soon as possible. Maybe I'll go for another run before I go to sleep. Then I'll hit the weights after.
Before he starts pushing his way through, he hears a voice that sounds just a little too familiar.
"So this is class 1-A," the voice says, deep and even. "I heard you were impressive, but you just sound like an..."
He trails off, finally spotting Bakugou in the front. At the same time, Bakugou finally spots him and his shock of purple hair. Unforgettably, unmistakably purple hair.
"Purple?"
"Coach?"
They stare at each other, and the crowd around them pauses in confusion. Like a modern day Romeo and Juliet, only we didn't even know we were opposed.
"Yeah, well," Purple continues, obviously thrown off. "Don't get too cocky, 1-A, because your spots aren't set in stone." He keeps glancing over to Bakugou, then looking away, like he can't believe it. "So... suck on that."
"Come on, Shinsou, let's get out of here," a guy behind him says, pulling on Purple's arm.
"Bakugou, stop starting fights with the other courses," Glasses scolds, pointing an accusatory hand at him.
The two of them make eye contact one more time, and then the crowd tears them apart.
"So you go to UA."
"Yep. General studies course. And you're in 1-A. You fought those villains."
"Yeah. I don't like talking about it."
"Huh. So we were really in the same building the whole time?"
"Guess so. I don't pay attention to the other courses much."
"You called them 'extras,' right?"
"They're useless. All they do is bitch about how they wish they were us. Meanwhile I had to watch my teacher's head get smashed into a concrete floor. I was a second away from getting disintegrated before All Might saved me. It fucking sucked."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"I didn't want anyone to know. They're just extras."
"You can't coexist with them if you won't hear them out. ...I guess I should say hear us out, since I'm one of them."
"You're not annoying. That's the difference."
"I was going to be. I had a whole speech laid out. A declaration of war against your class."
"Why the fuck would you make one of those?"
"I tried to get into the hero course. Failed, since my quirk wasn't compatible with the test. So now I'm stuck in gen ed, and it makes me pissed sometimes. A lot of the time."
"What's your quirk?"
"Mind control. I can control people if they say something to me."
"..."
"Do you want to ask if I've ever used it on you?"
"You didn't."
"How do you know?"
"You just fucking didn't. That's how I know."
"You're right, I didn't, but most people don't trust me that easily."
"It's not about trust, it's about common sense."
"Most people don't have that, either."
"..."
"So you're Bakugou Katsuki. I've heard about you. You have a reputation."
"A shitty one, I'm sure."
"Well I wasn't going to go out and say it."
"Nothing I don't already know. Bastards think they know me. That's another reason why I don't bother knowing them."
"If you acted in school like you do on our runs, they wouldn't think so bad of you."
"They can't handle anything that isn't fluffy nice bullshit. I'm not going to filter everything I say and do so don't get hurt by it."
"But you shouldn't actively try to hurt them. You should just... be."
"Sometimes I can't."
"I get that."
"..."
"Does it have to be weird now? Since we know each other's names, and our reputations, and our courses?"
"I'm sure as shit not calling you 'Shinsou,' if that's what you're asking. And I'm not gonna go easier on you because you're in gen ed."
"Good. Because I want to work my way up into the hero course. If you place high enough in the sports festival, they move you into the hero course."
"Does it happen a lot?"
"No. But it could happen."
"If you're going to be competing in the sports festival, then we'll be going against each other."
"Maybe. It depends how the final match ups work."
"And I won't go easy on you."
"I don't want you to."
"..."
"We're both still the same people, aren't we?"
"..."
"We are. And I'm not going to kiss your boots because you're Bakugou Katsuki. You're still just Coach to me."
"And you're Purple fuckface who can't run to save his life. I don't give a shit about your quirk."
"Good."
"Good."
They don't go against each other in the sports festival, which is fortunate, because Bakugou doesn't hold back. He makes it to the top, and he takes everything that comes with it, muzzle included.
"They shouldn't have muzzled you," Shinsou fumes the next day on their run. They still treat each other the same as before their big revelation, but they don't pretend like they don't know anything about the other. "You could sue them for that."
"What's the point?" Bakugou grumbles. "They're UA. They do whatever the fuck they want." He doesn't bother saying that it's not a big deal, because Shinsou would never believe that. Not when he can clearly still see the red marks around his mouth.
"Still, muzzles fucking suck." It's rare that Shinsou curses, especially angrily, and Bakugou looks up in surprise. "Take it from someone with experience. No fun. That's all I'll say on the matter."
"Alright." They each have their topics they won't breach, and it's fine for both. "You really almost got Deku to walk out of the ring just like that. Fucking hilarious."
"Do you have to swear with everything you say? But yeah, it was pretty funny until he kicked my ass at hand to hand."
"You'll get him next time, I fucking promise."
"No I won't."
"You're right, you won't, chopstick arms."
Even though Shinsou doesn't immediately get granted access to the hero course, he keeps running. Says that he's holding out for the long game, and that eventually his time will come. Bakugou hopes so, because every day he gets closer and closer to shoving Grape Bastard into a garbage bag and leaving it by the combustibles.
He goes on his internship with Best Jeanist, and he comes back ten times crankier. Shinsou makes fun of his hair for a bit, but eventually helps him style it back to almost normal with some water.
"What kind of hair gel does he use, rubber cement?" he complains, spiking the hair back up to the best of his ability.
"Probably. My hair turned into a fucking helmet under him. Made me want to take twenty showers in a row."
"That's heroics for you. He must use extra strong hair gel to keep his hair tidy during battle."
"...shit, that's definitely it."
"Well I am a UA certified genius."
They don't speak to each other in school, which would be breaking their unspoken "do not interact outside of the run" rules, but they do nod every time they pass in the hallway. Bakugou's surprised at how often it happens, considering he never saw the other boy once before the sports festival announcement, but figures that he was just never paying enough attention. Shinsou told him before to try and think of the other courses as people, rather than just "extras," and he's working on it. Doesn't help that they're all gossips who give him looks in the halls, but he decides that he'll be the bigger person for once and not blast them all to hell.
Finals week has him more tired than he's been in months, and Shinsou suggests they go running every other day so he'll have more time to sleep.
"You're just trying to give yourself more break days," Bakugou accuses, almost choking on his water with how hard he's breathing.
"Coach, I'm in general education," Shinsou says calmly. "Every day is a break day. Plus I'm an insomniac. I thrive on no sleep. You, on the other hand, go to bed at eight pm sharp every night."
"Your point, bitch?"
"Nothing, nothing." They compromise by cutting down on their running time. By now, Shinsou runs the full way with him - albeit a lot more tiredly - so it gives them both a rest. Not that Bakugou really needs one, but if Shinsou really insists, then he'll go along with it.
He leaves for the training camp as one person, and he comes back a few days later as someone else. Nobody really understands how he's feeling, but they're all trying really hard to get it, and it pisses him off to no end. If they weren't there, then they don't get it, plain and simple. Their questions don't help, their sympathy doesn't help. The only thing that'll help him now is quiet.
He doesn't talk during their runs, and Shinsou seems to catch his drift, because he doesn't talk much either. He greets him when he shows up, and waves to him when he leaves, but keeps their actual runs blissfully silent. Later on, when Bakugou asks him why he didn't interrogate him about what happened, Shinsou merely responds that he knows his moments.
They move into the dorms, and Bakugou and Shinsou decide on a new route that remains on UA's grounds. It's weird for them, starting and ending together, but it works out somehow. They eat granola bar breakfasts together and make comments about how fucking huge UA is.
"What's next, sleepovers?" Shinsou asks one day, and Bakugou slaps him on the side of his head.
"Don't even joke about that. No one's allowed in my dorm but me."
"Bet."
The school schedules their cultural festival, and Bakugou actually sees Shinsou there, operating a haunted house, which he gets dragged into by Kirishima and Kaminari. It's cheap high school shit, but he can't help but find it funny when Kaminari flips out from a fake spider dropping on him. Overall, not a bad time.
"I'll pay you 1000 yen for all of the fake spiders you have," he tells Shinsou the next day on their run. "I want to put them all over the classroom."
"So you're actually a sadist, then," Shinsou remarks. "I always thought you just made people miserable by accident."
"Oh fuck off, I have my moments."
He's glad school starts settling down, because he can go without any more villain attacks for a nice long while. Kicking their asses out on the street? Sure, why not. Having them back at his school? No fucking thank you.
"You know," Shinsou starts one day. "Aizawa sensei says that I might be joining your class soon."
"Get the fuck out. When did you even start talking to Aizawa sensei?"
"I've been training with him after school. He's getting me ready for the transition." He pauses, frowning. "I'm not sure if I'm ready yet."
"Okay, actually get the fuck out now. If Aizawa sensei says you're ready, then you're ready. I'm not gonna listen to any self doubt bullshit. Do you want to go to the hero course?"
"Of course."
"Then go. If you're the slowest one in the class, it doesn't matter. We have tons of slow people. You probably won't even be the weakest one there. A quarter of the class is made of people who shouldn't be in the hero course in the first place."
"How comforting." He actually looks nervous, an emotion Bakugou didn't think he could experience.
"Look. Come to the hero course. See what it's about. Then you can flip your shit, alright? Don't waste time freaking out beforehand. It's not worth it."
"Easier said than done," Shinsou says, but he slaps the sides of his face and breathes out hard. "Not freaking out."
"Better not be, Purple. The only emotion you're allowed to feel is apathy, you hear?"
"Sir yes sir."
Aizawa's announcement comes as a surprise to all except one.
"A newbie?" Kaminari asks, leaning over Bakugou's desk to talk to Jirou. "Who could that be?"
"I dunno. Maybe one of the 1-B kids?" she replies. "Weird that they're switching so late in the year, though."
"Maybe they're from one of the other hero schools like Shiketsu?"
Bakugou stays silent, because he wants to see their surprised faces when Shinsou walks in. And sure enough, they're all completely dumbfounded when the gen ed kid they all remembered from the sports festival strides into the room, standing beside Aizawa in the front.
"This is Shinsou Hitoshi," Aizawa says, putting a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be joining us for the remainder of the year, and the years following."
Shinsou politely makes his own introduction before heading over to Bakugou's desk, sitting on the edge of it. The rest of the class instantly goes silent, waiting to see what Bakugou will do.
"You made it, bastard face," Bakugou says, slapping him hard on the shoulder with a smirk. "Congrats." There's a crashing sound behind him, and he looks over to see that Round Face dropped her phone in shock. Typical dramatic bastards. Can't keep their shit together for a moment. Not that he isn't thriving in the chaos, but it would be nice if they could be normal for a few minutes.
"Only thanks to you, coach," Shinsou replies, returning a hard smile. "Now why don't you show me around your fancy ass dorm?"