Chapter Text
Friday, September 29
-Bakugou-
Classes were edging on utterly boring today. The hour was closing in on noon on a Friday, and Bakugou was itching to get away from his desk and move around. He’d been like that since the first semester, but not even a week into the second, and he was feeling especially awful. He felt like every time he sat down, there was a pressure building inside of him telling him to move before he reached his boiling point.
If he allowed himself the chance to think of the reason why, he knew it was because he felt like he was plateauing. While everyone around him was getting stronger, faster, more adapted, he felt like he was trudging through the mud. They weren’t caught up to him yet– well, aside from Deku and Todoroki (but he’d be damned if he ever admitted that)– but he was on edge seeing his classmates closing the gap between them.
But Bakugou never fully let that thought form. It was just a hazy idea floating around deep in his brain, and if it ever tried to focus or surface, he was quick to shut it back down. He needed to keep a calm head about it. He needed to move and train and continue to excel. He needed to be number one. And he was going to blow everyone else out of the water when he did so.
That was why these classes seemed to be taking for-fucking-ever. The clock hanging on the wall seemed to be mocking him, measuring every tiny fucking moment of uneasiness with its slow little tick tick tick ing. He ground his teeth together. Class would be over in just four more minutes, and he could finally get up from his stupid fucking desk and go to training.
From the corner of his eye, Bakugou saw something move. He turned his head ever so slightly to catch Kirishima looking over at him, his hand stopped mid-wave. Kirishima’s brows were furrowed in a way that made his expression easy to read: are you okay?
It wasn’t until then that Bakugou noticed he was shaking his leg. He stilled immediately, snorted, and turned his attention back toward Professor Aizawa, who was now wrapping up the lecture.
When the bell finally rang and class ended, it took Bakugou all of his self-control not to spring up from his seat and dart out of the classroom toward the training facility. Instead, he took extra measures to slowly pack his texts and notebooks into his backpack. The last thing he wanted was to seem too eager to get the hell out of here. It was bad enough that Kirishima already noticed how anxious he was. He didn’t need anyone else picking up on it and then asking stupid questions like “are you okay?” Fuck .
Once everything was packed up and some of the class already started clearing out, Bakugou grabbed the strap of his backpack and headed toward the door. He wasn’t two steps into the hallway when he could hear the familiar stomp-running of Kirishima coming up from behind him.
“What?” Bakugou asked, his tone sharper than he intended, as Kirishima came into view.
“That lecture seemed extra long today, didn’t it?”
Bakugou shrugged.
“I’m excited to finally get to the gym and stretch out a bit.”
That comment earned Kirishima a snort. He always did shit like this. He always made comments he assumed Bakugou thought or felt, trying to get him to confirm or deny, without ever straight up asking. Most of the time, Bakugou didn’t care. It was easier for Kirishima to say it and for him to agree than it was for him to start the conversation anyways. But sometimes—like now—it was annoying.
“YO! Wait up!” Kaminari called out from behind them.
Bakugou didn’t slow. Kirishima paused, turning slightly, losing pace with Bakugou as he did so. The sound of Kaminari’s footsteps quickened as he jogged to catch up to them. Soon enough, Kirishima, Kaminari, and he were walking together with Kirishima in the middle.
“Damn, Bakugou,” Kaminari huffed in a half-whine. “I said ‘wait up!’”
“Not my fault you’re slow.”
“Well, I was waiting on Sero and Ashido, but they were taking forever, and I’m pretty sure Sero was giving her googly eyes, so I had to bolt.”
“Googly eyes?” Kirishima repeated.
“Yeah, dude. Don’t you pay attention? Sero’s been crushin’ on her all year.”
Kirishima hummed. “Well, he never showed interest in her in high school.”
Kaminari shrugged. “Probably ‘cause he didn’t care about anything but training during the week and getting stoned on the weekend.”
“Oh yeah,” Kirishima hummed in agreement. “So, does Ashido like him back?”
Bakugou groaned. “You guys are starting to sound like her with all this who-likes-who shit.”
Kaminari gasped in mock-offense. “You’re just angry because no one likes you with that pissy attitude of yours.”
“Dude?!” Kirishima said.
Bakugou didn’t retort. Because quite frankly, he didn’t care. Why the fuck any of them worried about crushes or dating or any of that shit when they were training to become Pro Heroes was beyond him. Sometimes he felt like he was the only one in the class who wasn’t distracted by menial shit like that. And the fact that they all were all getting better faster regardless, pissed him off more.
Bakugou stepped up his pace as he pushed through the front doors of the building. Kirishima and Kaminari both fell a bit behind.
“Why would you say that?” Kirishima asked Kaminari.
Unfortunately for Bakugou, they weren’t quite out of earshot yet.
“What?!” Kaminari challenged. “He knows it’s true, and he knows I say it with love… Honestly, kind of surprised he didn’t snap at me like he usually does, though.”
Bakugou walked a bit faster, and they fell further behind. Part of him debated turning his hearing aid off, but he 1) didn’t want to risk losing the battery, 2) didn’t want either of them to see him do it, and 3) didn’t want either of them saying anything to him that he couldn’t hear, inadvertently exposing the fact that he was annoyed enough by them to turn it off. So, he left it on and did the best that he could to ignore the rest of their conversation.
By the time they reached the training facility, Bakugou was so ready to blast something that his palms nearly dampened at the thought. He pushed through the doors and headed down to the locker room where he yanked open his locker, shoved his bag inside, and withdrew his gym clothes.
This week, Aizawa had them training without their hero outfits. When he first told the class, they all were confused. Mostly everyone had support equipment. But their professor explained that they needed to do more training without them. He didn’t want anyone relying too much on their support equipment or becoming dependent on them. He explained that they might not always have their supports on hand when the time came, or they could get damaged in battle. It made sense, but it was still annoying to say the least.
As Bakugou began to change, Kirishima and Kaminari finally walked in to get ready as well. Luckily, neither of them said anything to him. He finished changing and went out into the gym. It didn’t seem Aizawa was there yet, but that wasn’t unusual. He wasn’t one to show up until just as classes were starting.
But there were a few of Bakugou’s other classmates standing around. Deku and Todoroki were already out there, theorizing over what today’s training might be. More accurately, it was Deku muttering his ideas as Todoroki nodded wordlessly. Typical . Iida was talking with Tsu and Uraraka; Jirou with Yaoyorozu; Tokoyami with Shoji; and Oijiro with Hagakure. Bakugou was the only one of his friend group who wasn’t still in the locker rooms, so he stood off to the side, alone.
Deku was the first to notice because he caught Bakugou’s eye above Todoroki’s shoulder, and soon enough was waltzing over. Todoroki followed.
“Hey, Kacchan!” Deku said.
“Hello, Bakugou,” Todoroki followed.
And it wasn’t as though Bakugou disliked either of them. He no longer hated them like he had in high school, but he wasn’t exactly in a friendly, chatty mood either.
“What do you want?” Bakugou asked in lieu of a greeting.
“Just seeing how things are going!” Deku said.
“Fine.”
“If we do group training today, do you want to join us?”
Bakugou shrugged.
“Just think on it!” Deku continued with his usual positivity. “I think the three of us make a good team.”
Team. Except Bakugou didn’t want to be on a team. He wanted to be able to stand on his own. He wanted to be The Best. Not tied for first.
Before he could open his mouth to say anything else, Uraraka burst out in an embarrassed shriek, and Deku snapped his attention toward her. Bakugou looked over to see Uraraka waving her hands frantically at Iida as Tsu tried to hide her laughter.
“Better go check on your girlfriend,” Bakugou said.
Deku looked at Bakugou with an embarrassment that could match Uraraka’s. “She’s not my— uh… Uraraka and I are really just good friends, you know? We’ve always been really close, but that doesn’t mean— it’s not like she’s my—”
“Deku,” Bakugou cut him off. “The muttering.”
Deku’s eyes went wide. “Right. Well, okay. I’m just going to go check on her then. I’ll see you later, Kacchan.”
Deku jogged over to his other friends, and Todoroki followed suit, leaving Bakugou, once again, alone. Not that he minded. He did some stretching as he waited for the rest of the class to join them out in the gym. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero came out first, and Ashido wasn’t too far behind. The group of them chatted amongst themselves as Bakugou half-listened until Aizawa finally walked out into the gym.
His tired eyes scanned over the room, counting heads to ensure everyone was there. Once settled, he cleared his throat and began speaking.
“Today we’re going to be doing something a bit different than what we’ve been working on,” he announced.
Half the class went silent, waiting for him to continue, while the other half murmured.
Kirishima leaned in toward Bakugou. “What do you think it is?”
Bakugou glanced at him but didn’t humor him with an answer. It didn’t matter what Bakugou thought. Aizawa would explain soon enough, regardless.
“For the last few days, we’ve been working on combat without the aid of your support equipment. The results have been good, for the most part, and we will continue to work on it in the upcoming weeks. But I’ve noticed trends in your fighting styles that I want to break before they become habits.
“When you’re out in the field, you won’t always know what type of villain you’re up against, and you won’t always know what their quirk is at first. Because of this, you could be facing villains whose quirks oppose yours or make it difficult to use yours.
“There may also be situations in which your environment may be its own obstacle. Whether that be due to civilians or the setting, you may not always have the advantage of an open space or surroundings that allow you to use your quirks at their full potential.
“For these reasons, we’re going to be shifting our focus for some time to combat without using your quirks.”
By the sound of groans and sighs around him, Bakugou knew he wasn’t the only one pissed off by this. He wanted to make his quirk stronger and fight better with it. How the hell would quirkless training do any of that?
“Cementos will be creating spaces for everyone to work in pairs to mimic close combat in tight quarters. I’ll be monitoring from above and provide feedback accordingly,” Aizawa continued. “Everyone partner up for quirkless sparring.”
Kirishima once again leaned over to talk to Bakugou. “Hey, man, wanna team up?”
Bakugou looked over at him. He considered it briefly. Due to the nature of Kirishima’s quirk, he relied heavily on close combat. He would be a good match, then. And if Bakugou wanted to get better, he needed someone who might be able to challenge him.
Bakugou smirked. “Yeah, let’s go.”
As everyone else partnered up, Cementos began creating sparring rooms out of concrete. Now that Bakugou was finally able to get out some of this excess energy and start throwing a few punches, his earlier anxiety was turning to excitement. He watched as Cementos finalized setting up the spaces, and everyone started to filter out. Bakugou led Kirishima over to the first open room on the left. The cement room was small with four walls about seven feet tall, and a small space left open in the corner that functioned as a door. The square space was no bigger than ten feet by ten feet, not giving either of them much room. Aizawa wasn’t kidding around when he said close quarters.
Kirishima eyed over the room before turning his attention to Bakugou.
“I want to practice my kicks more,” he said.
Bakugou raised a brow in confusion.
“Since I rely heavily on my hands, I wanted to make sure I get just as strong everywhere else,” Kirishima elaborated.
“Just because you want to practice new techniques, doesn’t mean I’m gonna take it easy on you.”
Kirishima smirked. “I don’t expect you to.”
Bakugou didn’t give him another second before throwing a punch. Kirishima jumped back, skin already hardened. Before he could take another breath, his skin softened once more, and his eyes went wide.
“Kirishima!” Aizawa’s voice called up from above.
Bakugou and Kirishima both looked up and over to see where Aizawa stood on a ledge in the center of the room to overlook everyone else. His black hair waived wildly above him, and his tired eyes gleamed red.
“This is quirkless sparring,” Aizawa reiterated.
Bakugou looked back over to Kirishima, who awkwardly scratched the back of his head.
“Sorry,” he said. “Habit. I won’t do it again!”
Aizawa nodded. The glow disappeared from his eyes, and his black hair fell back to a rest.
“Okay,” Kirishima said, his attention now back on Bakugou. He punched his fists together. “Let’s try this again.”
At the first step Kirishima took forward, Bakugou shifted his body. Left foot forward, pointed forward toward Kirishima, right foot back at a 45 degree angle. Slight bend in the knees. Back straight. Keep the weight low and balance strong. Fists up to protect his face. He didn’t want to take the defensive first, but Kirishima was already near on top of him. Bakugou watched the way Kirishima shifted his weight for a right roundhouse and dodged mid-kick. Kirishima’s shin barely managed to graze Bakugou’s cheek.
Bakugou jumped backwards, readying himself. “That was nothing. Give me all you got.”
Kirishima grinned further, a slight bounce in his stance. “I’m just getting warmed up.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when he already charged forward again. Bakugou looked for an opening, the way his body moved, to determine what kick he’d use next. But Kirishima’s fists were raised, striking him with a double jab before Bakugou realized he was now onto punches.
Bakugou hit the cement wall behind him but pushed himself off quickly.
“Fucking hell, Kirishima.”
His friend just looked at him with his stupid satisfied smile, stretching his arms. It felt like mockery.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” Bakugou hissed between clenched teeth.
And he stayed true to his word. He didn’t give Kirishima another second to change his stance before he sprinted toward him. Bakugou shifted his step at the last moment, right leg forward, striking Kirishima with a left head cross. Kirishima attempted to dodge to his left, but Bakugou caught him with a right body hook as he did. Bakugou felt the heat rising in his palms as his punches connected, and he understood Kirishima’s instinct to use his quirk.
They continued on like that. Throwing punches. Dodging. The occasional kick from Kirishima. Jump flip grab flip slam jump dodge jump over and over, moving in circles around each other, both sweating and breathing heavily. And although Bakugou ached to feel the spark in his palms, he had to admit, it felt good.
Well, until Kirishima connected his heel to Bakugou’s ribs with a right front kick, knocking him on his ass. Pain surged up to his head, and he didn’t even have a chance to consider if his bones were cracked before Kirishima jumped on top of him, pinning him to the ground. Bakugo’s eyes squeezed shut, and he could hear the staggered breathing of Kirishima above him.
“Gotcha,” he heard the other say between breaths. “I think I win this match.”
Bakugou opened his eyes to see the stupid cocky expression Kirishima wore. He raised his hand to his jaw, which he realized suddenly ached, too. He pulled the hair into his lungs, ignoring the sting in his chest as he did so.
“Get the fuck off me!” he scowled.
Kirishima pushed himself upwards quickly, taking a few steps back. Bakugou sat up, aching everywhere.
“What the fuck, dude?” he snarled. And he knew it was a stupid fucking thing to ask They were training, afterall. He told Kirishima to give it his all. But still. He hadn’t expected to fucking lose.
Kirishima looked him over with sudden guilt. “Sorry, man.”
Bakugou climbed to his feet, his hand on his ribs as he did so, feeling out the pain. He’d felt worse. No broken bones, then. But they might be bruised.
“Are you okay?” Kirishima asked.
And that was a stupid fucking question, too. Because he was not okay. Very much not okay.
“I’m fucking done,” he announced.
He took one step toward the opening out of the sparring room before realizing class wasn’t over yet. He didn’t care.
“I’m going to the locker room,” he told Kirishima.
And he didn’t look back as he walked out. Kirishima didn’t stop him and neither did Aizawa. Fucking good.