Chapter Text
Shigaraki Tomura leered over him, tilting his head curiously so his red eyes searched him hungrily. He was still – steel chains binding him to the chair, arms sore from pulling against his restraints. Waiting, waiting for it to be over. His eyes were burning, and exhaustion was beginning to set in: a side-effect of the quirk restraints.
“So, little hero.” Shigaraki mused, disgusted emphasis on ‘hero’. “What do you say? Considered… levelling up yet?”
Although he would rather die than admit it, a chill spread down his spinal cord, out through his veins. He opened his mouth to reply, only for no sound to come out. His chest felt tight – too tight, like there was a chain on his throat as well as his arms. Shigaraki’s grin turned malicious, decay spreading through his gaze. Black slime spilled from his mouth, unending, and the Slime Villain flashed through his mind for an instant.
The black slime swallowed him, and he was gone: instead of Shigaraki, All Might stood in front of him. He was still paralysed, stuck to the ground, unable to tear his eyes away from the Symbol of Peace. All Might grinned down at him, and as they watched each other the skin on the hero’s face began to decay. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, blood dripping from the ravaged flesh, until all that remained were two blue eyeballs, staring up at him from a pool of blood.
Katsuki woke up clawing at his throat, heaving gasps spilling from his mouth as he grabbed at his blanket.
The night was deathly still, and he took a shuddering breath, then another, fighting to stop shaking, to calm down. Finally, his breathing slowed, and he rested his head against the cool wooden headboard, struggling not to cry.
He closed his eyes and-
Kurogiri swirls in front of him, two yellow eyes glaring from the mist-
His eyes snapped open, darting to the shadowy corners of his room, half-expecting Kurogiri to open a portal from which the League could step through.
(He could still feel Toga’s hands running over his biceps, his chest, the horrible feeling of being out of control-)
He cleared his throat, and the noise almost echoed in the eerily silent dark.
He swiped his phone from where it lay on the bedside table, and unlocked it to stare at the home screen apathetically. Eventually, he decided on the search engine, slowly typing in his own name:
Bakugou Katsuki
(5,103,334,443 results in 0.3 seconds)
He began scrolling down, seeing article after article glowing blue, calling him to click on it.
His gaze caught on a particular article: ‘Bakugou Katsuki: Hero or Villain?’
The screen bathed the walls in pale white light as the text loaded – it was a reputable news site. His stomach dropped as he read the subtext.
8,104 comments.
He skimmed past the first few lines, mostly on his middle school records, until he came to a picture of himself from the Sports Festival.
“During U.A.’s respectable sports festival, Bakugou Katsuki saw no shame in desecrating the school’s name by behaving in a feral manner.”
Shame and rage coiled in his stomach. He skimmed further, to a section on Kamino.
“In the events of Kamino Ward, Bakugou was retrieved by the heroes and has been quiet, below the radar ever since. The outcome of that event, was, as we all reflect upon the death of the Symbol of Peace-”
Nausea rose in his stomach as the screen blurred in front of his eyes. All Might wasn’t fucking dead. He was alive, damn it!
So you’re not at fault? A voice mocked in his head, smooth and snide. Katsuki hated that he had no reply. You didn’t kill All Might, sure, but you ended his career. The career he spent years building, gone – because you were too weak to escape from a bunch of low-life villains.
“Shut up.” He whispered weakly. The only response he received was the rustle of wind outside the dorms.
Despite himself, he scrolled down to the comments.
ASDF1234: lmao no need to be nice, we all know he’s literally an undercover villain in UA or smthing…
ALLMYGHT: wtf? Are you delusional or something?? he’s a future villain for sure, but not undercover yet.
Endeavourswaifuu: yk the league had him in chains right?? Theres a pattern here with putting bakugo katsuki in chains and honestly its pretty hot
Cybersuperstar: aldkfhasdkjfa STOP BUT YOU’rE sSO RIGHT
Nightwolfie: id like to tie that up sometime
Stainydays: ik like the league had the right idea lol
He couldn’t stop himself scrolling: almost challenging himself to find a single positive comment.
Anim3girli3uwu: such an attention whore
Hihihihi: I think this is due to U.A., and Bakugou’s, incompetence.
Alldabitches: Exactly!! Why don’t more people get this?
Asdfgh12345: it’s not UAs fault if their student is a fucking villain but pop off
DETUROITOSUMASH: I cant believe that waste of oxygen had the audacity to end all mights career with his stupid kidnapping or wtv
Allmightyboy: ikr!! Like! BAKUGOU STOP. nO one cares.
Bluberrybloxx: just go kill yourself already baka-go.
Depressoexpresso: no one cares about you, just die
Shinyhappypeople: jump off a roof
And it went on, and on, and on.
Death threats. Rape threats. Kidnap threats. Hate, and hate, and hate – little knives slicing into him.
And wasn’t that ironic?
“Take a swan dive off the roof!” he’d said, full of seething arrogance, full of stupid puffed-up egotistical idiocy.
He hadn’t paid even close to a price: the way he saw it, this was paying him back in kind. Giving him a miniscule fragment of the way Deku must have felt that day, cowering up against the classroom walls, watching him with fear in his teary green eyes.
Katsuki’s eyes closed, tiredness weighing him down, but as soon as his eyes burned with the relief of blinking Shigaraki was in front of him again, reaching out to turn him to dust.
His eyes burned, but they were open.
He swung his legs over the bed, fumbling as the stiffness forced him to grab onto the bedside table and switching on the lamp.
In the light, the room looked stupidly normal, painfully obvious that Shigaraki and Kurogiri had never been there. He had just let his paranoia get the better of him.
You call yourself a hero student?
“Shut up.” He spat, but there was no heat in the quiet word.
Talking to yourself. So you’re going insane, too.
He gritted his teeth, and slammed the door open, hating himself for the tiny flinch that he couldn’t avoid when the wood made contact with the wall.
Katsuki stalked down to the kitchen, flipping the light switch as loudly as he dared, rifling through the cupboards to find the tin of coffee powder and switching on the tea kettle.
He sat at the kitchen table, noticing his Modern Hero Art History notebook sprawled across it, some of his note pages loose and scattered over it.
Stupid idiot. He berated himself. The voice, mercifully, didn’t chime in.
Katsuki set to collecting and collating the sheets, organising them neatly and setting the book aside to cradle his coffee in his hands.
Staring down into the steaming drink, he let out a soft, tired sigh.
“Kacchan?”
The voice was tentative, quiet, unthreatening, but he snapped his head up anyway, straightening up into as much of a fight-or-flight stance as he could manage.
“Oh.” His voice sounded empty even to his own ears. “Deku.”
Just go kill yourself already, baka-go.
“Take a swan dive off the roof!”
His mind, ever-helpful, flashed the images through him in rapid succession. He swallowed uncomfortably, looking away.
“What do you want?”
Deku pulled up a chair, keeping his movements slow, watching Katsuki as if he were going to attack him. It grated on his nerves, but he bit his tongue and didn’t comment.
No screaming? No yelling from Lord Explosion Murder? The voice was surprised, tone insidiously mocking.
“Are you- are you okay?” The concern in Deku’s voice was so fucking irritatingly genuine.
“Peachy. Just great.” Katsuki snapped, wishing he could take the words back as soon as they left his mouth. He buried himself in his coffee, relishing in the way the warmth spread through him, to buy himself some time.
Deku inched away minutely.
Good. Katsuki thought grimly, miserably. Let him walk away. It was only what he deserved.
“I meant-” Deku swallowed, and Katsuki watched him unhelpfully, hollowly. “After… Kamino. All Might- I know you idolised him too.”
“Shut up.” He bit out. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of the past by fucking Deku. This kind of thing was why-
Why you suicide baited him? The voice jumped in immediately.
Katsuki’s angry thoughts died out. That’s not- that isn’t-
“Kacchan? Kacchan!” Katsuki blinked, and Deku was leaning over the table, waving a hand in his face. He jerked backwards in surprise.
“What the fuck, Deku?” he growled. “What was that for?”
Caught by surprise, Deku fell forward, just catching himself before he faceplanted on the table. “What- you just zoned out, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” Maybe it was just the exhaustion, but Katsuki didn’t have the patience for more than a grunt in response. He downed the last of his coffee and washed out the cup, determined to ignore Deku wringing his hands stupidly at the table.
“I just think…” he started lamely, brushing away his green curls-
“I don’t want to hear it.” Katsuki warned, striding away up the stairs back to the safety of his room.
Mercifully, Deku actually shut up.
Katsuki sat on the floor with the light turned on, resting his head against the side of the bed. He drew one knee up to his chest and let out a weary breath.
(Sleep came to him only in fitful bursts for the rest of the night.)
He snapped awake suddenly, standing so fast that dizziness overtook him. He sat down on the bed again with a thump, glancing quickly at his clock.
5.03am.
I need some fresh fucking air. He thought to himself distantly, wincing as a small gust of cold air hit his skin through the open window. Reluctance dragged him down again. All he wanted to do was sleep: drift in the confines of his own mind.
This kind of weakness won’t let you become a hero, you know.
He bit his lip so hard it left a dent in the soft flesh.
An hour later, he stumbled into the dorm again, sweat shining on his shoulders as he breathed heavily.
“Hello, Bakugou!” Class Rep greeted him. He grimaced and repeated the barest of greetings back to him, taking the stairs two at a time to escape.
He got dressed before heading downstairs again to cook himself breakfast, only to be confronted by Kirishima.
“I made you breakfast!” the red-haired boy’s face was innocent, leaving no clue to his intentions. Bakugou took the plate he offered warily.
“Why?” he demanded. Kirishima’s smile faltered a little as he shrugged.
“I dunno, I just felt like it! I mean…” he looked uneasy, lowering his voice slightly. “I can guess you had a nightmare or something last night, so I thought you might like some breakfast…”
Katsuki eyed the food suspiciously. A lopsided egg was balanced on a mound of white rice and natto, carefully sprinkled with spring onions.
You’re going to eat that unhealthy stuff? You know you have a routine to follow for a reason. The voice commented silkily, and he swallowed.
He met Kirishima’s gaze, and the puppy eyes the redhead was wearing proved to be too much. He sighed.
“Fine.”
Kirishima’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah! I knew it would work!”
He huffed, taking the plate over to the table and pulling out a chair with a screech. “And… thanks, Shitty Hair.”
A single bite of the food revealed it to be so disgustingly bland that he almost regretted his thanks.
“Bakugou! Bakugou!” Ashido’s peppy voice, along with her too-loud knocks, forced Katsuki to pull open his door just a crack.
“What the fuck do you want? Go away.” He dismissed, but the pink-skinned girl wedged her foot in the small opening before he could close it.
“Bakugou, you can’t bail on us! We’re going to Kiyashi Ward again, remember?” she declared, tipping her head to the side with a cheery grin.
Oh, fuck.
He did remember. He remembered Shitty Hair and Kaminari talking about the ‘Baku-trip’ as they’d jokingly called it, insisting on Katsuki coming along.
He’d only agreed to get them to shut up.
Seeing his frozen expression, Mina’s smile dropped. “I mean-” she hurried to reassure him. “You don’t have to come! You’re probably busy, anyway.” She pulled out her phone, probably to let the rest of the so-called Bakusquad know he wouldn’t be there.
“No.” he said suddenly. “I’ll- uh, I’ll come. I’ll meet you down there in fifteen minutes. Don’t any of you fuckers be late or I’m not coming.”
He stubbornly avoided her gaze even as she pumped her fist in the air with a cheer.
Neglecting your homework? That’s not how you become Number One.
The voice murmurs in his ear, and he tries his best to ignore it.
He wore a long-sleeved t-shirt – ostensibly for the cold-ish weather, but really it was more to hide the knife scars that the psycho girl villain had left to ‘decorate’ his forearms. The pale pink skin felt out of place, somehow: a shameful reminder of his own weaknesses.
He gritted his teeth as the metal blades twirl across his forearms with no real force behind them.
“Bakugou! You’re here!” Mina grinned, wide and cheerful, as she slid down the stairs, slinging an arm around his neck. He stiffened at the sudden touch, but took a deep breath and steadied himself even as his mouth became dry.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He looked away. “You idiots couldn’t find your way around U.A. without me anyway.”
“Bakugou!”
“Bakubro!”
Kaminari and Kirishima yelled at the same time, twin smiles on their faces. Katsuki looked up at them with a bored expression.
“Have you got your wallets?” He asked, monotone.
They looked at each other and ran back up the stairs.
He shook his head as Mina doubled over laughing, joined by Sero as he came down as well.
“Morons.” Katsuki rolled his eyes.
Soon, they were on their way to Kiyashi. Katsuki opted to hide his face in the hoodie he was wearing (oversized, away from his neck) to avoid the stares, but his spiky blond hair was still drawing attention. As much as the rest of them tried to ignore it, whispers followed them even before they reached the train station.
“Hey, the Sports Festival guy!”
“Jeez, how out-of-date are you? That’s the guy that got himself kidnapped!”
“Oh, that’s him? Bakugou Katsuki, right?”
“Yeah, didn’t he kill All Might?”
The last one feels like a punch to the gut. He stopped dead in his tracks, zeroing in on the lanky teen that said it – opening his mouth to retort-
What would you even say? He’s right.
He kept walking.
After what felt like years, they reached the train station. Mina and Kirishima were desperately trying to keep the conversation going, glancing back at him every few seconds.
Sero broke the tension with his usual blunt manner. “That was disgusting.” He commented grimly, turning a face full of concern to Bakugou. “Sorry they said all that shit about you.”
Katsuki shrugged. “S’okay.” They’re not wrong.
“No, it’s not.” There was an undercurrent in the other boy’s voice that he couldn’t place, but Sero’s face was carefully blank when he looked up at him.
“Woah, Bakugou Katsuki!” A hand wraps itself around his neck and he stiffened, freezing in place, unable to think past the arm around his neck.
Shigaraki wrapped his hand around his throat with surgical precision: thumb meeting his skin, then three more fingers, leaving his pinky in the air.
The pressure was suffocating, paired with Shigaraki’s manic red eyes filled with bloodlust, it’s all he can do to stop shaking. The knowledge that if he moves the wrong way, his throat will be the first thing to disintegrate is certainly an incentive.
“I could kill you right here.” Shigaraki rasped gleefully. “And no one would give a fuck.”
“-atsuki! Katsuki!”
He inhales sharply, coming face to face with Ashido. He blinks and she draws back hurriedly, turning to face the stranger still standing there. Oddly, he doesn’t look worried or confused – just curious, and a little… satisfied?
“What the- are you okay?” Kirishima asked quietly, trying not to draw attention to him. The attempt fails miserably. “What triggered it?”
Bakugou tried to speak, but the shameful words refused to exit his mouth. “Hand.” He gestured lamely, knowing Kirishima would understand, and the other boy paled before turning to the stranger who still looked more bored than worried.
“See, this is why you don’t touch strangers in public!” Kirishima said furiously, rounding on the stranger, and Bakugou’s eyes drifted down to the phone peeking out of his hoodie pocket…
…with a white light coming from the camera.
“Kirishima.” He got out, struggling to his feet and grabbing the stranger’s arm in a vice-like grip. “Camera.”
Mina darted forward and held the phone up in the air with two fingers, staring at the still-recording device like it was a cowpat that had been launched into her garden.
“What the fuck is this?” she doesn’t even make an effort to be quiet. “Why, you disgusting piece of loathsome, idiotic, reckless, criminal trash! How dare you exploit someone’s triggers for your own amusement! Bakugou was fucking kidnapped! He was-”
She cut herself off with a growl of rage, turning off and pocketing the phone, pulling out her own one and flicking to the call button. “I’m calling sensei.” She turned to the stranger again with a glare. “That’s pro-hero Eraserhead to you, trash.”
He still looked unfazed, and turned to Katsuki with hollow eyes. His face split into a grin. “We’ll come for you, Bakugou.” He murmured. “Sooner or later.”
He dissolved into sludge before their eyes.
Katsuki choked back a yell of horror. Clone fucker. Ringing filled his ears from the inside out as he stood, transfixed, staring at the heap of sludge that had been a person mere moments ago. He couldn’t breathe.
Kirishima, thankfully, took charge of the situation. “Mina, call sensei. Sero, Kaminari, see what you can find from the phone. Bakubro, come with me.”
Katsuki stumbled along behind Kirishima, distantly aware of the other boy’s grip on his arm.
“Okay-” Kirishima sucked in a breath, sitting him down on a bench, “-take some deep breaths, okay? You got this, Bakugou.”
He obeyed blindly – in for two, out for four. Slowly, the ringing in his ears faded away. He came back to himself.
“You back with us?” Kirishima asked softly. Katsuki nodded mutely.
Finding his voice, he got out, “Sorry- sorry I ruined the mall thing. I should probably go back to U.A. now.”
Kirishima stared at him wide-eyed. “What?” he spluttered, waving his hands in the air. “That’s not- no! You have to come! I mean- we want you to come! Please come?”
Katsuki shrugged, ignoring the warmth spreading in his chest. “’Kay.” He said gruffly.
Mina and Kaminari came over to him soon after, and Sero after he pocketed his phone.
“So,” Sero came straight to the point as usual, “Aizawa-sensei said that as long as we all have our phones switched on at all times and stick together as a group, we can still spend an hour or two at the mall. Our new curfew is 5pm, though.”
Even Kaminari made no protest. He held up the slightly singed phone. “I tried starting it up, but I think it was tapped. Whoever was controlling it cut the connection or something.” His voice was angry, frustrated.
“Sorry, Bakugou.” he sighed. “I mean, I know we probably weren’t gonna find anything in there anyway, but I feel like I should’ve been able to help more, ya know?”
“S’ok.” Katsuki replied.
“All right, guys!” Ashido’s enthusiasm was forced, but it got them going. “Let’s go spend some money, yeah?”
They got on the train in dead silence, but by the time they got off, they were easing into light chatter again.
“-so I was all like, oh my god, you’re so cool!”
“And he turned around and he was half-yak!”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Hey! Gimme some of that pocky!”
It was relaxing to see his idiots joking around again, carefree.
Kirishima lingered beside him. “You can join them too, you know?” he said quietly, still looking ahead, hands in his pockets. “They’d be glad to have you.”
He didn’t reply.
Hours later, Katsuki was helping Ashido and Kaminari carry what looked like half the mall.
“Why the fuck did you two idiots buy so much, hah?” he grumbled, hefting yet another bag onto his shoulder. “What, do I look like your fucking personal servant or something?”
“I mean…” Mina batted her eyelashes slyly.
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you fucker!”
Kaminari and Kirishima laughed till they cried.
Back at U.A., Katsuki headed up to his room feeling lighter than usual, the incident not weighing on his mind. His books were still out on the desk, and he dropped into his chair with a reluctant sigh.
Pulling out his phone, he blinked in confusion as his email account read… 99+ unread?
He groaned, assuming Mina had spammed them all with pictures of her K-Pop idol crushes again, swiping into his email account to turn them all to read.
One look into his account gave him pause.
Firstly, the email at the very top was from Unknown Sender.
Secondly, the subject line read Die, Bakago Katsuki
Thirdly, the second, and third, and fourth emails were strikingly similar.
Cold fear washed over him, all memory of the mall forgotten as he swiped down, further and further, message upon message of hate.
All for him.
He opened the first email.
Sitting down heavily on the floor, drawing up his knees into his chest as he stared blankly at the black text.
He clicked onto the second email, and swallowed thickly, averting his eyes with a grimace after the first line.
Nope, not reading that.
Rape threats.
Murder threats.
Suicide baitings.
Descriptions of what the sender would like to do to him if they ever saw him outside.
All in graphic, graphic detail.
Nausea rose in Katsuki’s gut, forcing him to stumble into the bathroom and dry heave.
Jump off a cliff, you fucking disgrace-
-if I ever see you outside-
-i’ll kill you in all might’s stead, you-
I hate you, Katsuki Bakugou.
He coughed, retched again.
I hate you, Katsuki Bakugou.
By the time he came out of the bathroom and sat down to do his homework, his hand was shaking too much to hold the pen.
I hate you, Katsuki Bakugou.
If he couldn’t even do his homework, what kind of a hero could he be?
I hate you, Katsuki Bakugou.
What kind of a hero… caused the death of the symbol of peace?
I hate you, Katsuki Bakugou.