Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nightmares were a fickle thing. They plagued the mind. All-consuming in a way that was wildly unpleasant. Kyoka shot up in bed with a sharp inhale, breath coming far too quickly. Her hand naturally went to her left ear, shaking fingers touching the cool prosthetic—a reminder. A glance around her room further proved to her groggy mind that she was safe in her bed in her dorm room, the memories of war in the past.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, hands falling into her lap as she slowly regained control of her breathing. For a brief moment the thought of trying to get back to sleep crossed her mind but closing her eyes and seeing AFO’s face gave her an answer. She wouldn’t be getting back to sleep. Not right now at least. With a groan Kyoka threw her legs over the side of the bed, sliding off onto her feet. A short pace across the room to slip on a pair of slippers later she was out the door, heading down the dark hallway.

The walk to the common room was uneventful, with only the soft sound of her footsteps to keep her company. The hour was late; most of the class was probably either asleep or attempting to be. It wasn’t until she neared the kitchen that she registered any noise other than her own. She slowed her pace in an effort to not startle whomever it was as she leaned around the corner.

His back was facing her, left arm leaned against the counter. In the dim lighting, she could just about make out the spiky-haired silhouette of the class’ explosive blond boy. He was just wearing a black long-sleeved top with grey sweatpants. It was peculiar seeing Katsuki up at this hour given the boy’s strict bedtime routine.

“Bakugo?”

Despite Kyoka’s soft tone Katsuki still whirled around a little too quickly, left hand flexed with his entire posture braced as if expecting a fight. Vermillion eyes darted over her briefly before he exhaled, shoving his hand into a pocket of his pajama pants.

“What are you doing up, Ears?”

He prompted gruffly as if she hadn’t just given him a mini heart attack, his body turned to the right side as his gaze flitted from her back to the stove. He was still too tense, more closed off than Kyoka expected.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Her short answer earned only a grunt in response, silence settling over the kitchen. Kyoka shifted her weight, gaze flicking to the side while debating on questioning him in return. Before she could a warm mug was being pushed into her hands. She cupped it in surprise, eyeing the contents before her gaze flitted back up to witness Katsuki pouring his own portion into a mug placed on the counter. By the aroma alone it was tea, probably one of Momo’s if she had to guess.

“Thank you…”

Kyoka murmured, earning yet another brief sound from the blond as he placed the kettle down a little too harshly with a sharp clink before retrieving the filled mug with his left hand. He looked somewhat awkward holding it. Grip too tight, and not quite right. His right arm hung limply at his side, hand jammed into his pocket.

His gaze remained fixed upon his mug for a moment, brows slightly furrowed as if it had personally offended him. When the silence stretched he huffed an exhale through his nose, giving a sharp nod towards the couches in the common room. Kyoka arched a brow, curiosity playing across her face as she gave a slight nod in return.

There was a stiffness to his gait as he moved, the slightest of limp stemming from him favoring his left side. Kyoka didn’t pry. Didn’t question because it wasn’t her place to. They all had been altered by war be it physically, mentally, or a blend of the two. Katsuki certainly wasn’t exempt. When Katsuki seated himself he seemingly specifically picked the rightmost seat, pressing most of his weight into the armrest. It meant Kyoka ended up on his left side. Being seated in such a manner meant she couldn’t see the scarring across his right cheek.

Kyoka slid her feet free of the slippers, pulling her legs up to comfortably fold them across the cushion. Finally, she took her first sip of the tea, delighted to find it was sweet with subtle hints of both honey and apple.

“Chamomile?”

“Mm.”

A soft smile quirked her lips at the corners as she settled into the silence, letting the warmth seep into her fingers and through her chest with each small sip she took. It was almost peaceful; a descriptor she would’ve never thought could apply with Katsuki involved. The blond was typically loud and brash. The silence was odd.

Then again… War changed people.

“...Why are you up?”

Her question made his shoulders stiffen, vermillion gaze cutting to the side to stare off at a distant wall. Tense. Closed off when the conversation centered around himself. Kyoka tilted her head, bangs shifting to the side, awaiting his answer all the same.

“Why do you think?”

While the answer itself wasn’t specific it did speak volumes. Kyoka could easily guess a multitude of reasons. She sank back a little further in the cushions, her index finger tapping a few slow times against the side of her mug whilst gathering her thoughts.

“It was nightmares for me.” She began, dark irises trailing away from his face to the golden liquid in her mug. “Seeing All For One’s face… Wondering how differently things could’ve turned out. We’re lucky, I know that, but it still just…” She trailed, a frown crossing her lips. It wasn’t fair was the problem. They were first years. Sure they were training to be heroes but they were all still children. Children that had to deal with the consequences of adults in their shitty game of power. Children who had no business being soldiers of war.

“Dwelling on it won’t change a damn thing.”

His tone of voice caught her off guard, gaze flitting up to meet red. Resignation wasn’t an expression Katsuki should ever wear. It wasn’t anger, wasn’t defeat; rather a begrudging acceptance that this is just how things were now. Kyoka didn’t like it.

“It’s not about trying to change it.” She retorted evenly, lips pursed with slightly furrowed brows. Katsuki’s jaw noticeably tensed, brows furrowing to mirror Kyoka’s own expression. Before he could say anything in response she continued. “Besides, I’m not trying to think about it all the time… Especially when I’m trying to sleep.”

He was quiet. Contemplative as his gaze shifted from her face back to his lap. His right leg shifted, bouncing his heel lightly. “...It wasn’t nightmares.” Another pause, regret flickering across his face. “For me I mean.” He planted his heel before pushing himself up. Kyoka blinked in surprise, watching as he moved. Stiff, shoulders slightly hunched with a subtle limp.

“Are you okay?”

The question felt foolish. Like it didn’t carry enough weight but she wasn’t sure what else to say in response. He only paused for a moment, his back to her.

“I’m fine.”

Chapter Text

Pretending things are normal when they really aren’t has become an odd norm. School continues on. Lessons are attended, drills are run, lunch is eaten, dorms are cleaned. Life goes on. It’s harder to pretend when schedules change. Therapy among the students of U.A. was commonplace now. For those that didn't, the change in schedules made it difficult to keep pretending.

The Bakusquad table felt oddly empty, missing the majority of its members. Their table wasn’t the only affected location- there were many empty seats scattered throughout the cafeteria where students would usually be. While the quieter chatter was strange Hanta paid it little mind. He had grown as used to the new routine as he could.

Grief was troublesome to cope with. It was processed differently in every individual. Everyone had their demons sure- it was to be expected as children fighting in a war they never should have had to. Some had it worse than others but…

Katsuki had died.

Katsuki had torn himself apart fighting, died, came back to life, and still pretended to be perfectly fine.

Hanta was pulled from his musings when a weight dropping onto the bench shifted the table. Speak and he shall appear Hanta supposed- Katsuki settled in across from him, left elbow against the table to prop his head against his hand. His right arm was pulled out of his jacket sleeve, resting safely across his abdomen- likely in a sling beneath his clothes.

Dark irises flickered from the lack of food on the table to Katsuki’s face, arching a brow questioningly.

“Not eating?”

The question was short, knowing. Katsuki tsked, vermillion gaze narrowing.

“What’s it to ya?”

Retort sharp as ever though there was an edge of exhaustion to it. Hanta shifted in his seat, lifting his free hand in a placating gesture. He knew of course without Katsuki needing to admit it, regular tasks were hard now and chopsticks were probably out of the question for him at the moment.

“Skipping meals isn’t like you.”

He finally replied, closing his eyes to not be looking at the blond whilst taking another bite of his elote. Katsuki grumbled something beneath his breath, shifting heavily. When Hanta peaked open an eye Katsuki had his head tilted to press his cheek more into his palm, gaze pointedly fixed elsewhere. Seems he had struck a nerve.

He cast a glance down to his remaining lunch for the day before looking back up to Katsuki.

“Do you want some?”

Katsuki bristled at the offering, vermillion gaze flicking down before tracking up to Hanta’s face.

“I don’t need your handouts.”

Hanta rolled his eyes, pushing the box across the table to Katsuki expectantly.

“I can’t eat it all,” A lie- one that Hanta made sound all too convincing. “Seriously.”

Katsuki stared at him dubiously before begrudgingly lifting his head up to use his left hand to snag one of the cobs by the stick that pierced through the center.

“What is it?”

The question was gruff and had a lax grin crossing Hanta’s face.

“Elotes.” He replied, gesturing to the box with one of his hands while he propped his head against his opposite palm to mirror Katsuki’s old position. “Most people refer to it as street corn.”

That explanation seemed satisfactory as Katsuki tilted his hand, sinking his teeth into the cob. His expression was perfectly neutral, much to Hanta’s annoyance- He wanted to know if Katsuki liked it damn it!

Katsuki finished half of one cob, spinning the stick in his hand to get access to the other side before he spoke. “Needs more chili powder.” He was already working his way through the rest of the rows.

Hanta snorted in amused disbelief, doing his best not to stare as Katsuki practically demolished the remaining elotes one at the time.

“I’ll text you the recipe if you want, I’m sure mi mamá wouldn’t mind.”

Katsuki paused, staring at the near empty cob as if it had personally offended him before his shoulders sagged a fraction.

“Do what you want.”

Hanta grinned, letting silence settle between them. Katsuki worked through the cobs, practically inhaling every rough bite he took. There’d be times where he’d pause, brows slightly furrowed like he was embarrassed of being hungry- starving even. He’d resume at a slower pace and the cycle would repeat.

When lunch neared its end Katsuki had worked through what remained of Hanta’s lunch. He collected the empty cobs by the sticks, stiffly standing up. The blond walked off before Hanta could get up to join him, tossing the remains into a bin as he left.

The day went on as regular. Remaining lessons attended alongside training before finally classes were over.

Back in the dorms, lounging across a hammock in his room Hanta found himself recalling he still had a text to send. He checked the time, clicking the volume button down a few notches to lessen the music in his ears so he could focus. It was still early enough that Katsuki would be awake at least.

Thumbs danced across the screen, multiple ‘swoop’ sounds accompanied the several texts he typed out.

7:02 PM

Blasty >

Here's the recipe btw- almost forgot :')

Ingredients: Corn, lime juice, cotija, cayenne pepper, mayonnaise, mexican crema, smoked paprika & chili powder

Grate the cotija and then mix in everything else, there isn't really an exact science just add till it tastes good

Drizzle vegetable oil over the cobs on a baking sheet, then evenly coat your mix on the cobs

Roast in the oven at 220 until they start browning, then turn the broiler to high and continue until done,

you'll wanna roll them over so the bottom side doesn't get soggy

Use the rest of your mix as a spread, add some tajin and you're done

Buen provecho

He stared at the message thread for a minute before placing his phone back on his chest. He didn’t really expect a response if he was being honest with himself though he supposed Katsuki didn’t owe him a reply either.

When his phone buzzed against his chest his first assumption was someone else in the Bakusquad wanted something, though when it only vibrated twice with no further spam he picked up the device, raising a brow in surprise.

7:11 PM

Blasty >

- Link -

Recipe the old hag uses before adding spices.

BRO??

Shut up

Now we're even

You didn't have to share THE Bakugo family recipe tho!!

Whatever

Just don't go sharing it with the other idiots

o7 BLESS

Hanta grinned at his phone screen, immediately opening the link so it could be saved within his tabs. Sure, Katsuki hadn’t given him the additions he and his mother added but in the blond’s defense Hanta would probably never make it with the same seasonings. He had a spice tolerance… Just not like Katsuki’s.

When the hour ticked by he made the executive decision to take a crack at making the katsudon.

The next day at lunch when he found himself briefly alone once again Katsuki joined him. There was a softness that flickered in his gaze at the sight of Hanta’s meal- Hanta grinned far wider when he saw elotes in Katsuki’s own box.

They didn’t speak.

They didn’t need to.

It was peaceful.

Chapter Text

Katsuki was loud. He always had been.

Loud and unapologetically himself, like his very existence demanded to be noticed. He never just spoke. He blasted, barked, bit into every syllable like it was a weapon he could throw at the world. Silence around him was a temporary ceasefire, never a promise of peace.

Denki knew that going into their study session. He braced himself for it, mentally preparing for what he originally believed was going to be the longest study session of his life. The volume was simply part of the Katsuki Bakugo package.

Still, Denki tentatively hoped things might be different now. They’d fought a war. Not just a battle, an honest-to-God war. They had bled, broken bones, screamed themselves raw, clawed their way toward victory not just for Japan but for the whole damn world. Katsuki had died for that victory.

And after all that, Denki had kind of hoped they’d earned a break. A week off at least. Maybe a month... Maybe forever.

But the school didn’t see it that way.

So here he was: sitting across from Katsuki in the common area, textbooks spread out, notebooks open, the sharp smell of graphite and old paper hanging between them. The blond had a rolled-up magazine in his left hand like a makeshift club, ready to whack Denki on the head the moment he said something dumb or slow... or both.

Eijiro swore by Katsuki’s methods though. Called them “effective.” And Denki, being the good friend he was, didn’t push back. He’d survived worse than a magazine bop to the skull.

But there was something… different this time. Something Denki couldn’t quite pin down. Katsuki was too rigid, his shoulders locked tight like he was bracing for an impact only he could see. His vermillion eyes followed Denki’s mouth with unnerving sharpness, narrowing whenever Denki spoke in what he personally thought was a perfectly normal volume.

And Katsuki hardly spoke back.

When he did, it always started loud. The first few words always came out like detonations. Harsh, biting, loud enough to startle someone passing by. But then as if he realized too late he’d gone too far, he reeled himself in. The rest of his sentence would be quieter, clipped, words measured. Frustration flickered in his gaze for an instant before he forced it flat again.

Rinse.

Repeat.

“So… like this?”

Denki scribbled out the final answer and spun the worksheet around, pushing it across the table. He smiled, more hopeful than confident at this point.

Katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound halfway between a scoff and a sigh. He set the rolled-up magazine down with deliberate care before snatching up the worksheet. His eyes darted across the page, brows knitting together, gaze sharpening into something dangerous.

“Your handwriting is ass, Sparky.”

Denki sputtered immediately, clapping a hand over his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not that bad!”

Sure, his handwriting was messy. A little crooked. Written too quickly, too faintly, but it wasn’t illegible! Katsuki’s scowl deepened, the paper crumpling slightly under his grip. For one terrifying second, Denki was sure his worksheet was about to go up in flames, taking all his hard work away with it.

But Katsuki didn’t blow it up. His grip loosened. His gaze dropped back to the page.

And then… silence.

A long silence.

Denki shifted, his knee bouncing beneath the table in a nervous rhythm. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his band tee until the fabric bunched between them. The quiet stretched too far, too thin, until Denki found himself holding his breath without realizing it.

Katsuki’s eyes were narrowed but not in the sharp, angry way. No, this was something else. He brought the paper closer to his face, tilting it, squinting hard at Denki’s scrawled answers.

Denki blinked.

Wait.

The implication settled heavily in his skull, something he had never considered. His stomach flipped, heat crawling up his neck as he risked a glance at Katsuki’s face.

Yellow met red.

Denki froze. Katsuki wasn’t glaring, at least not in the usual “I’m about to explode you” way. The furrow between his brows wasn’t born of anger. His jaw twitched, daring Denki to say it. To voice the suspicion clawing its way up his throat.

Denki wisely dropped his gaze back to the table to wait. His free hand tapped against his knee, electricity crackling faintly at his fingertips in restless bursts. He didn’t push. Didn't pry.

Finally Katsuki looks up, putting the worksheet down for Denki to slide back towards himself.

“You’ll lose points on questions four and six if you don’t actually explain what the law is. And question eight is plain wrong, look at it again.”

If he was going over material with anyone else he probably would’ve just taken the point deduction and called it a day but one look at Katsuki’s deadpan expression had him exhaling. Not sighing- definitely not sighing!

“Right- okay.”

He relented, fingers sliding the page the rest of the way across the table. Pencil tapped idly as yellow hues flitted over the indicated questions again. He twirled the utensil, eraser smudging against hastily scrawled answers.

When he made the corrections he slowed down, pressing the pencil tip harder into the paper. His handwriting was never destined to be beautiful but it came out neater. Darker. More solid. Easier to read.

“Okay! How’s this?”

He spun the worksheet back across the table, his voice brighter and purposefully louder than before, smile tugging his lips upward in a way he hoped would break the tension.

Contrary to popular belief, Denki wasn’t an idiot. He noticed the way Katsuki’s expression eased when he looked at the page this time. The way his squint softened. The tight line of his mouth smoothed ever so slightly.

Katsuki’s gaze flicked over the words. Silence stretched again, but not as sharp. Not as heavy.

“Mm.”

It was noncommittal, but Denki would take it. The worksheet was set back down in front of him. An unspoken pass. His freedom granted.

“You’re a lifesaver, Man. Thank you!”

Denki nearly lifted his hands to form L shapes with his fingers, ready to dramatize his gratitude by clasping Katsuki on the shoulder- Katsuki's left, Denki's right, but stopped himself at the last second. Instead, he settled for a grin, wide and genuine.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, muttering something that sounded vaguely like “Yeah, yeah…” before pushing himself up. His right hand shoved deep into his pocket, his left lifting lazily in a half-wave as he started toward the elevators.

Denki watched him go.

Something twisted in his chest despite his relief. Concern, maybe. He wanted to call out, to ask if Katsuki was okay, if his eyes were bothering him, if maybe he needed glasses and was just too damn stubborn to admit it. But the words stuck. Katsuki’s shoulders were squared too tightly, his stance rigid as if daring anyone to bring it up.

So Denki swallowed it.

He filed the information away. It didn’t mean he’d ignore it, just meant he’d wait.

If Katsuki didn’t want to talk about it, Denki wasn’t going to chase him down and force it. But he could still try a little harder. Pay more attention.

He could at least do that much.

Chapter Text

Combat training.

A way to maintain, improve, and destress. That’s what it used to be anyway.

The room held the scent of scorched metal and sweat, residual sparks drifting downwards for Katsuki’s most recent blast. Eijiro shook out his arms, fading embers falling from his hardened skin. His heartbeat thudded loud in his ears, adrenaline racing through his body like usual.

Katsuki… Katsuki was different.

His chest heaved, palms twitching and sparking like they couldn’t quite settle. His gaze was damn near feral, focused but not in the controlled way Eijiro was used to. Right now the blond looked like he’d tear the entire room apart as if he had something to prove.

Perhaps to others this behavior would seem normal though Eijiro was sure if his classmates were here they’d feel the same way he did. He’d fought with and against Katsuki too long to not notice. His movements were dull, lacking the precision he was used to seeing. His stance was too wide and his breathing sounded wrong, something Eijiro couldn’t quite explain why but he just knew.

“Man, you’re pushing yourself harder than usual,”

Eijiro kept his tone casual, his grin easy and normal. He didn’t want Katsuki to feel like this was a check-in, didn’t want him to know he was worried. Eijiro knew if Katsuki thought anything was off he’d shut him out.

Katsuki wasn’t good at letting people worry about him.

“Don’t,” Katsuki snapped, his voice sharp and eyes narrowed. “talk like you’re keepin’ up with me.”

Eijiro forced a smirk, rolling his shoulders languidly as if nothing was wrong.

The blast came fast, Katsuki lunging forward with an air of desperation. Halfway through the motion of swinging his arm Katsuki’s right side seized, his arm jerking off angle when he winced. To anyone else it could’ve been nothing, Hell they might not have even seen it fast enough. To Eijiro Katsuki may as well have screamed.

He braced, quirk hardening along his arms as he planted his feet. The explosion was hot against his forearms but he blocked the strike cleanly, a ringing in his ears from the close explosion.

Katsuki hissed between his teeth, aggravation simmering in those vermillion pools.

“Come on,” he snarled, voice ragged. Clearly he was fed up with Eijiro playing defensive. “You think the villains are gonna stop just ‘cause I’m not at the top of my game?!”

Eijiro’s chest tightened, the words he wanted to say dying on his tongue. He knew better than to say that no one expected Katsuki to tear himself apart. “Bakubro I don’t-”

“Shut up!” Katsuki’s voice was loud, a messy cocktail of emotions playing across his face. Rage yes but that was just a coverup Eijiro had learned to read. It was fear, desperation, that need to not be a burden, to not be left behind. It ate at Eijiro in an all-too-familiar fashion. He hated seeing it practically eat Katsuki alive.

“Hit me,” Katsuki interrupted his thoughts. “If I’m moving like crap make me pay for it.”

Eijiro swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to, he knew Katsuki wasn’t even close to full strength but he also knew Katsuki meant it. So his grin sharpened, squaring his shoulders in the way Katsuki would respect.

“You asked for it Bro.”

When Eijiro surged forward his quirk hardened up the length of his arm to his shoulder. He drove hard into Katsuki’s guard, the impact pushing Katsuki backwards across the floor. Eijiro heard the way his breath hitched, raw pain flashing in his eyes. Rather than folding Katsuki twisted, fingers digging into Eijiro’s sleeve. Grinning like a maniac he blasted Eijiro point-blank in the chest. Eijiro barely hardened in time, the blast wrenching him several paces back. Smoke curled between them, his uniform singed.

Through the haze Katsuki’s grin was all teeth. Feral. Defiant.

“Better,” He noted roughly, already dropping in his stance.

They clashed again and again, Eijiro guarding and countering just as Katsuki did. Every strike twisted the stake in Eijiro’s gut. Every time Katsuki jumped he saw the way his thigh tried to buckle when he landed. Every time he twisted he saw the wince Katsuki tried to bury. Eijiro knew Katsuki was holding himself together with fire and spite and he honestly didn’t know if he should be in awe or terrified.

Eijiro wasn’t sure how long they continued, all he did know was when they next broke apart it was definitely time to call it quits. Soreness tugged at his limbs from the workout but his attention was purely on Katsuki. He was hunched forward, hands on his knees and panting raggedly. There was a trembling to his form, like all his muscles were trying way too hard to keep him upright.

Beyond the physical signs of strain was something that bothered Eijiro more. A dark stain had bloomed gradually through Katsuki’s top. Definitely not sweat with the reddish-brown tinge.

“You’re bleeding.” He observed, letting his quirk fade out while moving towards Katsuki.

Katsuki glanced only briefly before scowling like the stain had personally offended him. “It’s nothing.”

Frustration bubbled in Eijiro’s chest but he swallowed it, keeping his voice even.

“That’s nothing?”

Katsuki shifted like a caged predator, stalking towards the benches with Eijiro following behind. He snatched his water bottle, the plastic protesting his harsh grip.

“Don’t go soft on me, I told you to hit me.”

“And I did!” Eijiro replied, brows knitting, hands gesturing in front of himself. “But you’re still healing Man, you can’t just-”

“What?” Katsuki spun, glare sharp and desperate. “You expect me to take it easy? Slow down? You think the bastards we fought are gonna give me a grace period?”

Eijiro held his gaze evenly even as frustration clawed at his chest. “I’m not saying slow down,” He began, trying to get Katsuki to give himself even a second to just breathe. “I’m saying don’t tear yourself apart before you’re all the way back to full strength.”

For a long moment the only sound between them was the quiet hum of the AC and Katsuki’s ragged breaths that he was trying to settle. Katsuki tore his gaze away first, shuffling the rest of the way to the bench. His leg tried to give out again, Katsuki stumbling, hand bracing flat against the smooth surface.

“...The limp?” Eijiro prompted, quieter.

Katsuki froze, posture stiffening before he sat down hard.

“...It’s fine.”

Eijiro exhaled through his nose, crouching in front of Katsuki to get back to eye level with him.

“Let me see where you’re bleeding at least.”

It wasn’t presented as question on purpose. Katsuki hesitated, clearly wanting to argue before the fight bled out of him. Grudgingly he pulled up the hem of his top.

Bruising was already blooming across his ribs, creeping down toward his hip. The source of the blood was seeping from the edge of a healed scar. If he had hit Katsuki somewhere else, somewhere his skin could still stretch and handle blunt force this wouldn’t have happened.

“Quit staring at me like I’m a charity case.”

Eijiro didn’t respond, he just quietly straightened. He was gone for only a moment, returning with a med kit. Kneeling back between Katsuki’s legs he gently cleaned around the split skin, wiping away the sweat that clung so sweetly to Katsuki. He used a cloth to dry the surrounding area before pressing a plaster over the wound.

“...Thanks.”

Katsuki muttered, rough but not lacking gratitude.

A small smile quirked Eijiro’s lips.

“Anytime Bro.”

The corner of Katsuki’s lip threatened to quirk upward, his eyes closing as he roughly shoved a spare water bottle towards Eijiro.

“Don’t get used to it.”

Eijiro’s smile brightened, tension bleeding from his shoulders as he chuckled softly. Fingers closed around the bottle, sipping.

“Too late.”

Chapter Text

A little taste of normalcy, even if it was just for an afternoon. Something easy. Something fun. Something that felt like the old Bakusquad again instead of… Whatever this weird stagnation was now. They hadn’t hung out in ages and Mina took that personally.

Mina perched on the arm of one of the common room couches, one knee bouncing restlessly. They hadn’t all gotten together outside of class in who really knows how long… Before the war probably if she was being realistic. The rest of the squad slowly trickled in, one after the other.

Kyoka tucked herself neatly into the corner of the couch, a mug of tea cupped delicately in her hands, chamomile by the smell of it with steam curling softly from the cup. Hanta dropped onto a nearby beanbag, popping earbuds from his ears to dangle around his neck, one finger idly twirling the connecting wire. Denki kicked back in the spot next to Kyoka, arms thrown back over the top ridge while his body practically vibrated with restless energy. Eijiro settled on Denki’s other side, closest to the opening to the rest of the common room where he could keep Katsuki in his peripheral. 

Katsuki didn’t sit, he shuffled in at what could be considered the edge of their little gathering. Hands tucked in the pockets of his sweats, leaning back against the wall. He looked uncomfortable, one knee bent to keep his weight mostly off that leg. Brows furrowed slightly, not quite a scowl but he didn’t look thrilled to be here either.

Mina’s grin was ready, practiced. Maybe a little too bright.

“Okay! Hear me out,” She began, clapping her hands together to drag attention. “The weather’s amazing, we don’t have practical training today sooo I say we hit the pool! Squad day, like old times.”

Predictably Denki shot upright first, clearly thrilled.

“Yes please! I need sun, I’m like- two shades away from being a ghost.”

Hanta chuckled, his grin easy as he toyed idly with one of his earbuds.

“Yeah I could chill in the water. Beats staying in here.”

Kyoka gave a noncommittal shrug, raising her mug closer to her face. Her lips quirked faintly upwards, gaze brightening a fraction.

“I don’t mind, sounds better than another movie night.”

Eijiro’s grin sharpened, sitting up a little as he pumped his fist, eyes closing in delight.

“Count me in!”

Mina’s chest warmed, smiling brightly. Easy. Just like she wanted. All that was left was…

Katsuki.

He’d been quiet, shoulders tight. When the attention shifted his way his vermillion eyes snapped to the side sharply to avoid meeting any of their gazes. Like a cornered animal with its hackles raised.

“Tch. I’ve got better crap to do than babysit you extras in a pool.”

The denial hit harder than she expected it to. Mina blinked, grin faltering for a second before she forced it back into place. She knew Katsuki could be prickly but his tone was… Off.

“Aw come on it’ll be fun! No training, no homework, just… Hanging out.”

Katsuki scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive.

“Sounds like a waste of time.”

Eijiro shifted, offering a grin that was equal parts careful and encouraging.

“Bro it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. Just an hour year? We haven’t all been together outside of class in-”

“I said no.”

Katsuki cut him off, his jaw working as if he wanted to say more but refused to let it out. He took a heavy breath, the sound ragged when he exhaled. For the brief minute Mina caught his gaze she noticed that distant look- faraway like he was elsewhere before he turned on his heel.

There was a faint hitch in his stride, left hand lifting from his pocket, hovering at his chest for a moment before he shoved it back down. Then he was gone, turning the corner to the elevators to retreat to his room.

Silence stretched in his absence. It pressed in, dampening what should’ve been a good time.

Denki exhaled, leaning back until his head thudded against the couch cushion, gaze towards the ceiling. Hands heavy in his lap.

“Man… He’s been rough lately.”

Hanta’s brows pinched, shaking his head as he closed his eyes.

“Not just rough… Different. He doesn’t stick around long.”

Kyoka’s fingers tapped against her mug quietly, brows furrowing. The tea in her cup had cooled drastically, befitting of the current atmosphere.

“The last time we almost talked he practically ran off…”

Eijiro’s frown deepened, worry plain as day on his face. Mina pulled a leg up to her chest, hugging it to let her chin settle atop it. She hated this.

“...He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else…”

She didn’t mean to sound so dejected by it but everyone clearly felt the same. The words hung in the silence.

Eijiro’s jaw tightened, guilt tugging at his expression.

“He won’t talk about it though…”

Denki scratched the back of his head, tone uncharacteristically subdued.

“So what do we do? Just… Wait?”

Mina was quiet, gaze fixed on the place Katsuki had been. Clearly something was eating at him. Her lashes lowered, gaze traveling up her arm, lingering on the acid-bleached portions of her skin. One of her hands moved, fingertips gently touching as she mulled over her thoughts.

“I wonder…”

Her murmur made heads perk up curiously. She lifted her head, fingers tightening minutely on her arm.

“He’s still our friend. We’re gonna make him feel better.”

The others blinked, owlishly at first before heads began nodding.

“That mean you got a plan?”

Hanta drawled, his grin falling back into place.

Mina’s grin in response spoke volumes. She dropped her leg down to lean forward, fingers pressing together in front of her face.

The others straightened too, leaning forward in a pseudo-squad huddle. None of them wanted to leave Katsuki out, and trying to get him to open up was like pulling teeth. They all felt the same though, leaving him to suffer alone was out of the question.

“So here’s what we’re gonna do-”

Quiet voices filled the common space as if this was a secret mission just for them. Smiles brightened, heads bobbled in nods.

Operation: Get Our Bro Back (courtesy of Eijiro) was a go.

Chapter Text

Days bled together. Life on repeat.

Katsuki shoved his way into his room after another day, the door shutting hard behind him. Lock roughly clicking into place.

Jacket first. He peeled it off his shoulders stiffly, each tug of fabric scraping against sore skin. He hung it carefully on the hook by his desk, tugging until the seams settled straight. Shoes next. Toeing them off one at the time, bending down with a muttered curse to set them neatly against the wall.

It wasn’t order so much as compulsion. Things he could control.

The limp was worse tonight, leg burning from knee to hip. Sharp aches threading down into the bone every time he shifted. His chest ached when he breathed too deep. The kind of pain that wasn’t screaming anymore. It never left. An aching constant.

He ignored it like he always did. By now it was second nature to simply pay it no mind. He lowered himself onto the edge of his bed, hands bracing his knees. Finally he tipped back with a grunt, vermillion eyes narrowed on a blurry ceiling.

He blinked, his jaw twitching as he turned his head to the side. The orange pill bottle glinted beneath his desk lamp, sat in the center of the desk itself. It mocked him now. Plastic proof of weakness like some kind of sick trophy. He could’ve reached for it. He could’ve popped the cap. Shaken out two… Three… Four of the chalky tablets. Choked them down. Drowned out the pain.

He didn’t.

Katsuki Bakugo didn’t take the easy way out.

He exhaled roughly, dragging an arm over his eyes instead. Bicep pressed hard against the bridge of his nose until black spots danced behind closed lids. His jaw ached from hard tightly he clenched it.

Just another shitty night. Just pain. Just something to get through.

His chest felt heavy. His body still hurt. He rolled stiffly, dragging a pillow to his face to smother himself with. 

In the suffocating silence a knock came, so quiet he almost convinced himself he imagined it. 

One beat.

Two.

Then it came again. Firmer. Steadier.

Katsuki’s lip curled.

“The Hell do you want?”

His voice sounded muddled to his own ears, hoarse from disuse. There was a pause, then a voice he knew all too well even as he strained to make out the words.

“It’s just me.”

Katsuki’s frown deepened, using his left arm to push himself upright.

“Go away Shitty Hair.”

“Not happening.” Eijiro’s tone was even. Stubborn. He wouldn’t budge, not this time. It was fitting in an aggravating way. “Open up.”

Katsuki scrubbed his palms hard against his face, muscles complaining- everything complaining. He scowled at the door like Eijiro could see it.

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Yeah, I know.” A pause, the words softer in tone. “That’s why I’m here.”

Katsuki’s chest tightened, a growl in his throat as he roughly hauled himself up. Every step to the door felt heavier than it should’ve. He stopped just shy of the knob, hand hovering. He caught sight of his reflection in the metal, warped but undeniably him. Eyes too sharp. Mouth too tight.

“I mean it Eijiro,” He opened the door a crack, scowl set in place. “I’m not-”

“Just trust me Man.” Eijiro cut him off. Not sharp. Not demanding. Pleading with this quiet desperation that made Katsuki’s chest squeeze uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Katsuki swore under his breath, yanking the door open the rest of the way. Eijiro stood there in shorts and muscle tee. His arms were crossed comfortably behind his back, aiming for casual but falling short. His grin was thin, nervous. His gaze though was entirely determined.

Katsuki couldn’t hold eye contact, vermillion hues fixed somewhere past Eijiro’s head.

“This better be good…”

He muttered lamely, more bite to his tone than intended.

“It is.”

Eijiro assured, grin twitching. Almost real, then sheepish as he fished a strip of fabric from his pocket. A blindfold.

“The Hell is that?!”

Katsuki spat out, taking a step back, hands flexing out of habit.

Eijiro rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Don’t freak out! Just… Go with it? Please?”

“Like Hell I’m letting you tie crap over my eyes-”

“It’s for the surprise!” Eijiro tried to meet Katsuki’s gaze. “C’mon, trust me? Just this once?”

Katsuki opened his mouth to bark a refusal but something in Eijiro’s expression made him click his jaw shut. He let out a long, jagged exhale through his nose.

“You’re a pain in the ass y’know that?”

Eijiro’s grin sharpened into something real, relief flickering in his eyes.

“I think you’ve mentioned.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes before ultimately closing them, standing still to let Eijiro tie the fabric around his head. Shrouded in darkness set his nerves on end, muscles stiffening.

“If this is some dumbass joke I’ll kill you.”

“Not a joke.” Eijiro’s hand landed heavy on his left shoulder, solid and warm. “I promise.”

Katsuki rolled his shoulder under the grip, bristling. He felt Eijiro’s arm brush against his own, the redhead closing Katsuki’s door for him before leading him down the hall.

“Relax, I’ve gotcha.”

Katsuki only grumbled, his focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Without his sight everything else felt so much more heightened. He had his shoulders hitched up to his ears, muscles screaming beneath his skin.

Eijiro kept a steady grip on his arm to guide him along. If anything it was too gentle, like he was afraid of hurting him. The notion only added to Katsuki’s mounting irritation.

“I’m really not in the mood to deal with idiots right now…” 

Katsuki muttered, feeling the floor shift as the elevator took them down to the common room. 

“You’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

Eijiro chided, guiding Katsuki from one elevator into the other. Back up four floors. Katsuki’s brows furrowed beneath the blindfold. If memory served it was only Pink Cheeks and Raccoon Eyes on this floor.

“I can’t see Dumbass.” Katsuki shot back, pointed tugging against Eijiro’s grip. “That’s the problem.”

Eijiro just chuckled on his left, guiding Katsuki down the hall. A door squeaked open, voices immediately hushing.

Katsuki felt his stomach drop.

“Alright- who the Hell is here?”

Nobody answered.

Katsuki’s teeth hurt from how hard he ground them together.

“Eijiro-” 

“Relax Man, I promise you’re fine.”

He wasn’t relaxing, his heart was trying to pound out of his aching chest. It hammered against his ribs, only picking up the longer he was left in darkness. The blindfold itched against his temples and it took every ounce of willpower he had to leave it in place.

He was led into the room, walking across a rug then hardwood then a different rug before he was guided to sit in a chair. It shifted slightly beneath his weight, the wheels rolling until something- someone probably- stopped them.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me… If the whole damn squad is-”

“Shh~”

Someone hushed him. Mina by the tone. Katsuki froze, muscles locking.

“Bastards…”

He muttered, throat feeling tight. 

Hands landed on his shoulders heavily but oddly gently too. Eijiro’s. 

“Don’t-”

“Please?”

The word knocked the fight out of him. He sat and listened as footsteps moved around him, fabric shuffling. He was barely convincing his heart he didn’t need a heart attack right now when someone started shoving up his shirt. 

He jerked, and if not for Eijiro keeping his arms still he might’ve fully swung.

“The fuck do you think you’re-!”

“Hold still!” Mina’s voice, bright but careful. “Just give us a sec.”

“No way in-”

Something cold and wet spread across his ribs. The sensation dragged, someone’s fingers smearing it further. Tracing along one of several scars. His muscles flexed painfully, a shiver rolling down his spine from the cold.

When he felt the same wet sensation at his cheek he managed to get his left arm up, fingers closing tightly around a wrist. Denki’s given by the nervous laugh that followed.

“Relax Bro! It’s just paint!”

Paint?

While his pulse thudded in his ears he let Denki’s arm go. Thoughts raced, muscles jumping. Too many people were touching him. It was cold- fucking weird- every nerve on edge.

“What the Hell are you lot doing to me?”

His voice cracked, slight panic bleeding into his tone.

“Just hang on a little longer.”

Hanta’s voice, muffled on his right side.

Katsuki grit his teeth, heat climbing in his cheeks. He couldn’t explain why he let them continue on. He could just rip the blindfold off, blast every single dumbass in this room and walk out. Yet something fragile kept him rooted in place.

By the time they were apparently done he was sticky and cold, buttons having been popped open to expose his entire torso, sleeves rolled up as high as the fabric would allow.

“Okay! You can look now.”

Eijiro’s voice was Katsuki’s only warning before he was practically blinded when the blindfold slipped free. He squinted, eyes watering. He blinked a few times, gaze slowly traveling over the squad. 

Golden paint stained their fingers mostly though he saw the way it was splashed over Mina’s burns. How it coated the side of Kyoka’s face. The sliver above Eijiro’s eye.

Then he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

For a moment he wasn’t even entirely sure what he was looking at. It was just him. Sharp angles, jaw tight. Scars crawling over his chest and ribs. His right arm misshapen.

They were golden.

Katsuki’s mouth went dry, throat working. Heat flooded behind his eyes in a way that panicked him more than being blindfolded did. His head snapped to the side, blinking rapidly.

“What the Hell…”

His voice cracked low, barely even audible. 

“Surprise?”

Katsuki hesitantly lifted his gaze back to his friends. They all looked some degree of sheepish. Denki rubbing the back of his neck, paint rolling down into his shirt. Kyoka toying with her one earphone jack, smudging bits of gold. Hanta was grinning a little too wide like he didn’t know what else to do. Mina hand her hands clasped in front of her, paint undoubtedly making her fingers stick. Eijiro was looking at him steadily with that hopeful, searching gaze Katsuki hated being directed at himself.

“It’s kintsugi.”

Kyoka expressed quietly.

“You know, using gold to fix the cracks in pottery?”

Denki added after.

Katsuki let his gaze flick back to the mirror, let himself actually see every golden patch of skin. Certainly not perfect but… Pretty.

“You’re not broken Man.” Hanta spoke, grin softening. “We just… Thought maybe you should see it for yourself.”

“Like proof!” Mina chimed in, her hands clenching a little tighter. “Of how strong you are y’know? You lived through all that.”

Heads bobbled in nods around him.

“You’re still you. We just wanted to remind you.”

Eijiro finalized softly. Honestly.

Katsuki’s chest burned. He swallowed hard, jaw working. Part of him wanted to deny it all. Paint didn’t fix anything. It didn’t fix him. This was stupid. But…

The words stuck in his throat.

He blinked hard, ducking his head while his cheeks flamed.

“You’re all… So damn stupid.” 

The insult fell flat and only made expressions brighten.

Katsuki took a ragged breath, shaking his head.

“Idiots…”

He murmured, earning a few quiet laughs.

“Yeah but we’re your idiots.”

Eijiro noted followed by a chorus of agreements.

Katsuki hesitantly stood up, eyeing his reflection for a final time before he looked over everyone in the room. His squad of idiots. His lips tried to quirk into a grin that he fought down.

With a rough exhale he let his posture finally relax, arms opening a bit at his sides. It earned a few curious brow raises before Mina got the memo first. She immediately crashed into his side, face shoved into his shoulder. When Katsuki didn’t blow her up the rest of the squad joined in.

Just this once he supposed, paint smearing where hands eagerly grasped to hold. To prove a point. He felt Eijiro’s solid chest against his back, Denki and Hanta smushing him in on either side. His own arms carefully around Mina and Kyoka’s shoulders.

Maybe…

Just maybe.

This was more than enough.