Chapter Text
At first, Katsuki hoped that you were kidding about not talking to him. Well, okay, not that you were kidding, necessarily, because you did seem pretty upset, but he thought your anger would be short-lived. That before long, you'd forgive him, just like you always do.
But that doesn't end up happening.
The following few days are probably the worst of his entire life—and no, he's not exaggerating.
To start off, he's grounded. His parents are furious with him for how he lost control and injured that other boy. His punishment wasn't light by any means, and even now, he's still facing the aftereffects, like not being allowed to leave the house when he pleases.
Of course, he doesn't listen and sneaks out anyway, but every time he does, it ends up being pointless.
Because you refuse to speak to him.
"She doesn't want to see you, Katsuki," your father frowns at him, expression sterner than usual. "She made that very clear to us. And I thought you're grounded? Aren't you supposed to be at home right now? You should leave, otherwise I'll have to call your parents."
"I want to see [Name]," Katsuki insists, desperation seeping into his tone. "I want to talk to her. I need to talk to her!"
But your parents, being the kind, upstanding people that they are, of course don't give in to his pleading. They stand firm and respect your wishes. Every single time, Katsuki either gets turned away at the front door, or he tries to throw rocks at your window like the night you both snuck out, but you ignore him.
Eventually, it hits him.
You really have no intention of talking to him at all—and the realization makes him sick to his stomach.
He tries to reel his panic in, though. Once the weekend is over, he tries to calm down by telling himself that at least he'll get to see you at school and talk to you there.
Except, when he tries to approach you first thing in the morning, your eyes are much colder than he remembers them ever being.
"[Name]," Katsuki starts, but you turn away from him immediately.
Then come the same chilling words, the same ones you uttered to him in the police station.
"Don't talk to me," you say, voice frigid. "Leave me alone."
Yet again, Katsuki feels his heart shatter.
It's like that for the entire day. You ignore him during classes, even when he tosses crumpled pieces of paper at you to try and get your attention. All it does is get him in trouble with the teacher, who unfolds his paper notes and reads them in front of the whole class, making Katsuki turn violently red from embarrassment.
Lunch time, sadly, is no different. You make a point of grabbing your food and eating outside with Deku, of all people, alone. Just you and him. Just you and that freckled, curly-haired piece of shit.
Katsuki follows you around like a desperate little puppy, determined to try and patch things up as soon as possible, but you simply collect your things and move away from him, over and over and over again.
The other kids are keeping their distance from him, too. Not all of his classmates were there that night, obviously, but some of the other kids from your neighborhood have already spread the word, gossip traveling at light speed.
Everyone is scared of him.
And normally, Katsuki wouldn't mind them being scared—because he's stronger, smarter, and better than them in every possible way—but right now, he's alone. He's all alone.
His best friend has completely abandoned him.
Katsuki clenches his fists, teeth furiously grinding against each other. This is the worst. He feels like he's on the verge of tears, and he hates this goddamn feeling. He can't stand feeling so unbelievably weak. It's humiliating. It's beneath him.
But above all else, he misses you so much that he just can't fucking bear it.
What if you never forgive him?
What if... you're done being friends with him for good?
Shit.
All of a sudden, Katsuki feels strange, in a way that he can’t entirely put into words. His chest feels like it's closing in, the world feels like it's spinning, and he swears he can't even remember how to breathe properly anymore.
He's hyperventilating.
He's having a panic attack.
Bakugou Katsuki, who once proudly proclaimed himself as the future Number One Hero... is losing his mind over a girl.
Granted, he's a twelve-year-old, and hardly the picture of maturity, but still. It doesn't matter how ridiculous it sounds. It doesn't matter how overdramatic he's being.
Losing you genuinely does feel like the end of the world—and he can't allow it to happen.
This time, when he knocks on your front door, frantic and insistent, your parents aren't the ones who open it up.
You are.
"What?" you glare at him, and Katsuki has to take a hasty breath, because he wasn't prepared for this right off the bat.
"I-I'm—"
He tries to stammer out a proper sentence, but the words just won't come. He's babbling incoherently, like an absolute fool, and it's so embarrassing he can feel his face on the verge of exploding.
"What?" you ask again, eyes narrowing even further. "Did you have something to say to me?"
Katsuki takes a few moments, still struggling to form a sentence, but finally, by some miracle, he manages to take a full breath.
"Please stop ignoring me!" he blurts out. "I hate it, so just stop! Please, just... just stop. I hate it so much..."
Sure enough, Katsuki's entire body is on fire. It's a shame so deep and visceral that he feels like he's about to puke, but he urges himself to stay strong. After all, he's Bakugou Katsuki. There's no way he'll back down from this, no matter how out of his element he feels.
He even said please, just for you. He never speaks like that to anyone else, not even his own parents. He treats you differently from all the rest because you're his closest friend.
Isn't that proof... of how much he loves you?
"Is that it?" you sigh, looking remarkably unimpressed.
Katsuki's throat clenches again. The roof of his mouth suddenly feels bone dry. He's not sure what else he has to say, because even just forcing those words out was unbelievably painful.
After a few moments, you merely sigh again.
"Okay," you gesture. "Come inside."
Katsuki's eyes light up. He doesn't want to get excited prematurely, but he hopes that this is a good sign. That you're getting ready to forgive him.
As you lead him towards your bedroom, he feels a swell of elation and nerves bunching up in his stomach. He doesn't say anything, though. Not until you're both alone in the room together, and you're standing a good distance away from him with your arms crossed.
"Why did you do that, Katsuki?" you eventually ask. "You hurt that guy really, really badly. He could've been in serious danger if that other boy, Shouto, didn't stop you. You could have put him in the hospital. Even if you didn't mean to go that far, don't you realize how messed up that was?"
Katsuki furrows his brows. "But they're always doing this. They're always getting on my nerves by making fun of you. What about them? Don't you think it's messed up how they kept asking about that villain attack? They acted like it was no big deal that you nearly died that day. That's way more messed up than what I did."
"No, it's not," you frown at him. "I didn't appreciate their comments, but it's fine. I can handle it. But you almost put his life in danger. You keep talking about how you want to become a hero when you grow up. Heroes don't hurt other people like that. That's the sort of thing that villains do."
Katsuki feels his hands tightening into fists again. He just doesn't know how to make you understand that you're the only person he really cares about. He wants to become a hero to take down villains, not because he's particularly enamored by the idea of saving random people. In fact...
He's pretty sure you're the only person he'd actually want to save.
"I didn't mean to hurt him like that, but it's not my fault he's so weak," Katsuki mutters in frustration.
However, it's clear that was the wrong thing to say, based on how your expression immediately hardens.
"Get out," you snap at him.
Katsuki's face falls. "What?"
"I said, get out. I thought you were actually going to own up to what you did wrong, but that was stupid of me. You clearly don't feel bad about it at all. You don't even care, and it's disgusting."
The word disgusting spills from your lips like poison, like something that’s almost too cruel to be uttered in your voice, and Katsuki swears he feels the walls of the room closing in on him.
You're already pushing him towards the doorway, glaring ruthlessly as you do, but he spins around in a hurry and grabs you by the shoulders.
"Okay, I'm sorry!" he exclaims. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, gritting his teeth again. "I'm sorry, [Name]. Are you happy? That's what you wanted to hear, right? I'm sorry, so just stop ignoring me. I'm your best friend. You can't keep ignoring me. You just can't."
"I can do whatever I want," you scoff. "You're the one in the wrong here, not me. But... fine. I'll consider it."
For what feels like the millionth time in the span of just a few minutes, Katsuki's mood skyrockets again.
"You will?" he asks hopefully.
"Yeah. But only on one condition."
"Sure. What is it?"
"You have to apologize," you say, pausing for a moment. "But not to me. To the boy you injured. You have to say sorry to him. Properly."
Katsuki's nose scrunches up in revulsion.
You're surprised lollipop boy’s parents even agreed to this. Ever since the incident, predictably, they’ve had nothing but sheer contempt toward Katsuki and his family. Any parent who actually cares about their child would naturally hold a grudge after seeing them end up in such a state. Although you feel bad for Mitsuki and Masaru—because they’re the ones who had to suffer through the constant berating, the shaming, and the scorn-filled looks—it doesn’t change the reality. All of it, every whisper, every glare from the other parents in the neighborhood, is because their son is a hotheaded asshole.
Parents are held responsible for their children’s behavior, but only to a certain extent. You feel for Katsuki’s parents, you really do. They’re good people, kindhearted and genuine, and when they found out what Katsuki had done, they must have been horrified beyond words. They probably never imagined that their own son would be capable of something so extreme. Yes, there was that one time when Katsuki punched another kid when he was younger, but that still doesn’t compare to this most recent incident. This was relentless. Uncontrollable. And now everyone looks at them differently because of it.
Still, after Katsuki told his parents he wanted to apologize, they did everything in their power to try and organize this meeting. They must have had to beg the other boy’s family to even consider it, and even then, you can’t imagine how much convincing it actually took.
So now, here you are.
You wanted to see the apology with your own eyes, and you also felt the need to be here because, let’s face it—Katsuki pretty much only listens to you. You’re desperately hoping it’ll go well. Hoping that maybe this will finally knock some sense into Katsuki’s head and help him understand that the things he does have consequences.
“Our son shouldn’t even have to see that animal anymore,” the neighborhood kid’s mother grits out. Her voice is sharp and trembling with rage, every syllable laced with disdain. “We’re only here because he wanted an apology, but I’m worried this is going to traumatize him even more.”
A vein in Mitsuki’s forehead throbs. “I understand your frustration, and again, I’m so sorry about what happened. But my son isn’t an animal. He’s just troubled, and we’re doing our best to work through it.”
“Troubled, sure,” the other woman snorts, folding her arms. “Plenty of kids are troubled and have their own challenges to deal with. It doesn’t mean they resort to extreme forms of physical assault.”
...oof. The tension is thick, to say the very least. You can practically feel it clogging your lungs, heavy and suffocating, and although you wish you were anywhere but here, you don’t have a choice.
You grip Katsuki’s hand tightly, watching as he faces the boy—the same boy who still bears faint bruises that have yet to fade. No, there wasn’t any permanent damage, thankfully, but he’s only about twelve years old, and he experienced a form of terror that no child should ever have to feel.
You would know. You’ve felt that same pain and fear before yourself. Too many times to even count.
“Please do it, Katsuki,” you whisper softly. “Please just apologize to him.”
Katsuki doesn’t say anything. He just clenches his jaw and nods. You can feel his fingers tighten around yours for a few long seconds before he slowly lets go of your hand and takes a step forward.
The other boy flinches at his movement, his whole body tensing instinctively, but Katsuki keeps his distance. His mother looks ready to step in and pull her son back, but the boy shakes his head. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted an apology. He’s just nervous, probably struggling to understand why Katsuki, of all people, would even want to do this.
Because Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t apologize. Not to anyone. Almost never.
Canonically, you know it takes years for him to even apologize to Izuku, and that only happens after countless lessons and humbling moments. But right now, he’s still a kid, yet he’s trying. You know that he’s capable of remorse. You’ve seen glimmers of it. You’ve seen the side of him that cares, even if he tries so hard to hide it. You just wish he would stop letting his anger consume him.
He can do this. You know he can.
“…I’m sorry.”
The words leave Katsuki’s lips in a low, almost hesitant tone, but they’re still loud enough for the boy to hear. Then, to your shock, he bows his head deeply—a rare and humbling gesture.
“I’m sorry for hurting you,” he says, his voice steadier this time. “I shouldn’t have done that. I was upset because of what you said to [Name]… but still, I’m sorry. I feel really bad about it. I promise it’ll never happen again.”
You blink several times, momentarily frozen. You were the one who insisted that he do this, but it’s still surreal to actually see him apologizing so earnestly. To hear him say those words so clearly, so sincerely, like he really means them.
It feels like progress. Real, genuine progress. Like a turning point.
For someone such as Katsuki, setting aside his pride is monumental. It’s a battle all on its own. And yet, he’s doing it. That has to mean something. Surely.
“I’m sorry,” Katsuki repeats one more time. He raises his head, his expression surprisingly calm. He doesn’t scowl or grit his teeth. He doesn’t even glare. He just stands there, grounded and composed, and although it’s too late to undo what happened, you can’t help but feel proud of him. He did it. He really did it.
And then—
The boy spits on him.
For a second, you can’t even process what just happened. A wet splatter lands across Katsuki’s cheek, and he simply stands there, eyes wide with disbelief.
“I hate you,” the boy sneers, voice cracking with spite. “And I don’t accept your apology. You’ll never be a hero. You’re a horrible person.”
He storms off immediately after, grabbing his mother’s hand. Together, they disappear down the street, leaving only a cold, heavy silence behind.
Your stomach sinks.
“Are you okay?” you ask softly, reaching over on instinct. You use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe the boy’s saliva off Katsuki’s face, even though it’s kind of gross. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink. He just stands there, still as stone, eyes wide and distant, as if his brain is struggling to catch up with what just happened.
“It’s okay, Katsuki,” you mumble, wiping the last of it from his cheek. “Don’t let it get to you. You did the right thing. He doesn’t have to accept your apology. That’s his choice. But at least you said it. At least you owned up to your mistakes.”
Katsuki doesn’t answer. His expression slowly changes, shifting from shock to something colder, darker. His crimson eyes harden, flickering like smoldering embers. You know that look. You know how dangerous it is when his temper starts to boil beneath the surface.
Mitsuki watches him closely, worry etched into her face. She probably knows as well as you do that there’s nothing she can say right now that will make it better. The humiliation he just felt is something he’ll never be able to forget.
However, time and time again, Katsuki surprises you. Sometimes in a bad way, but other times, it's for the better.
Because for some reason, his anger fades away in a heartbeat.
“Whatever,” he simply shrugs. “I don’t care. I did it. I apologized.” He turns his head towards you, voice softer now. “You saw me do it, right, [Name]? Does that mean you forgive me now? You won’t keep ignoring me anymore?”
“Yes,” you say, smiling gently. “I forgive you, Katsuki. I’m glad you made the effort to apologize. Please just don’t do anything like that ever again. I don’t want to see you end up that way, and I don’t want you to get in trouble either.”
“Listen to [Name],” Mitsuki chimes in, placing a firm hand on her son’s head. She gives his hair a rough tousle before offering him a small smile of her own. “She’s right. Good job apologizing. Still, if you ever pull any crap like that again, I won’t be so patient next time. Got it?”
As expected, Katsuki ignores her. All of his attention is on you anyway.
He hasn’t looked away from you once since you told him you forgave him. And then, suddenly, his arms are around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His grip is almost desperate, like he’s afraid that if he lets go, you’ll vanish again.
“You’re not allowed to do that again,” he mutters into your shoulder. “You can’t ignore me. You just can’t. I won’t let it happen.”
“As long as you don’t do bad things, there’s no reason why it would happen anymore,” you reassure, and after a slight pause, you make sure to hug him back.
It feels like resolution. A massive stride towards Katsuki's maturity, his emotional growth, and just becoming a better person overall. He's not the type to go along with anything without genuinely believing in it. He can't fake anything. It's just not in his nature. It doesn't come easily to him.
And that's true. It's not easy. In fact, having to pretend is unbelievably exhausting, and it drains him more than just about anything else—yet he does it anyway. And he's been pretending for a much, much longer time than you even realize.
In fact, he's even pretending right now. He's pretending not to be upset about how that boy spat on him and made a joke out of his apology. But he is upset. He's upset all the way down to his bones, and already, he's made up his mind.
He doesn't know how. He doesn’t even know when.
But someday, he swears he's going to make that piece of trash pay for what he's done.