Work Text:
A few updates to the entry under GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD: DYNAMIGHT / BAKUGO KATSUKI in Izuku’s most recently re-copied hero notebook:
- Hero ranking: 34!!!!!!!!!!!! (In five years!! As a sidekick!!!)
- Top-viewed HeroTube videos with keyword “Dynamight”:
- Dynamight’s Top 5 Finishing Moves
- Dynamight Being Mean to Reporters for 15 Minutes (A Compilation)
- ICONIC QUEER DAILY: Pro Hero Dynamight Responds to Probing Question “Some people are saying you’re gay. Are you?” with “Yeah. And?” #YeahAnd #heropride
- Dynamight’s Top 5 Finishing Moves
.
Izuku buys a t-shirt.
Well, he buys two t-shirts and a sticker for his work mug. Dynamight fans have been coming out of the woodwork with new ways to plaster the two words on any surface they can. Izuku’s sticker is a little obnoxious (Yeah, and? in pink-purple-blue bubble letters that are garish, frankly), but one of his quiet first-years complimented it the same day he slapped it on his giant gotta-stay-hydrated metal water bottle. It's covered in his friends’ merch stickers. Only someone looking would really see it, and someone looking surely did. Which is why he put it on there in the first place.
Katsuki has been bitching nonstop since the clip went viral three days ago.
Katsuki finally stops pacing, where he's definitely been pissing off Izuku’s downstairs neighbors for the last twenty minutes. He stops right in front of Izuku, arms tight across his chest. Izuku knows, staring up at him from his watching post on his own couch, that even though Katsuki has been saying I don't give a fuck about being some brat’s “representation” or whatthefuckever and I just answered a fucking question I don't understand why the hell this is happening, that the real devil here is the sheer amount of attention.
“Kacchan,” Izuku says.
“What? ” Katsuki snaps.
“I'm really proud of you, you know.”
“Fucking why?” Katsuki throws his hands up. Izuku’s probably not the first person to say this to him.
“Because it would have been easier to tell them to leave you alone, or mind their business, or whatever. It could have just been another ‘Pro Hero Dynamight Tells Pushy Reporter to Go Fuck Themselves’ clip - but you were honest, instead.” Izuku shrugs. “I know it's a lot, but - I don't know. I think if someone had been that blunt when we were kids, watching all those hero interviews on TV, things might have been a little different, you know? There are a lot of ways to be a hero.”
Izuku watches as Katsuki deflates, his cheeks ruddy with anger and maybe a little bit of embarrassment. “I meant what I said,” he grumbles, not backing down from this whole situation pissing him off. Izuku wouldn't ask anything different of him. “I wasn't trying to go - fucking, viral or fucking - fuck. I answered their stupid-ass question and it pisses me off that they felt like they had the right to ask me in the first place. Nosy-ass pieces of shit. Why does anyone even give a fuck?” He breathes out. “The brats watching me on TV should look and think exactly what's fucking true: that I'm going to goddamn win.”
He clicks his tongue, and finally, finally drops down onto Izuku’s couch. It's Katsuki’s first real day off in weeks. He’s supposed to be taking a real break, but Izuku knows from the redness of his knuckles he spent his entire morning deep-cleaning his apartment and probably went on a run at 5:30 this morning. Izuku reaches out and shoves his toes under Katsuki’s legs, as usual for their movie nights. He tugs down the blanket from the back of the couch and tosses it over the two of them. “I'm ordering from that Bengali place down the street that you like.”
Katsuki looks away from him, scowling, and settles deeper into the couch. “Don't forget the posto bora this time, nerd.”
Izuku grins. “Wouldn't dream of it.” He clicks away on his phone and says, “We’re on the last of our Bronze Age animated trilogy rewatch. Still down?”
Katsuki probably would've flipped him off, except he's already got his arms deep in blanket land, so he just rolls his eyes. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”
Izuku pulls up his movie app next, casting to his TV. (He's got the entire All Might collection taking up the majority of his memory on his phone. Obviously. What if he needs something to watch or read or listen to and he has no Wi-Fi? What would he do? Duh.) He shrugs. “The best,” he says simply.
Katsuki doesn't catch the surprised noise he splutters out in time. Izuku laughs at him, which earns him a mean-ass scowl.
Katsuki heaves a deep breath. “You're damn right,” he grumbles. And they settle in.
.
“You've gotta be fucking kidding me,” Katsuki says, and Ochako has the audacity to laugh right in his face.
They work out together sometimes. Ryukyu Agency and Genius Office share a gym - they’d discovered this almost immediately after taking their respective sidekick gigs post-graduation from UA. Ochako has near-perfect lifting form to the point it's almost always a benefit to have her around. (It's also a benefit to have her around for company or whatthefuckever. He's at a point in adulthood he'll begrudgingly admit having his friends around can be nice. Sometimes.) Her squat one-rep max terrifies the shit out of Katsuki, even if he would never say it to her aloud. He usually settles on a low whistle and not jumping out of his skin when the floor shakes as she sets her bar back in its rack.
Maybe that's all over, though, because fuck this.
She's wearing one of the goddamn t-shirts.
“What?” she asks.
“Don't play stupid, Cheeks.”
“This?” Ochako looks down at her own shirt. It's the one that says Yeah, and? in the shape of a rainbow, like a little queer bridge across her tits. It makes Katsuki want to break something. He stalks to the mats and starts his warm-up, instead. Call it growth.
She wiggles a little, like she's happy or something. “Deku sent out a million different links to get them. Did he tell you his students have some handmade stuff? Like, earrings and shirts and stuff.”
Katsuki’s face must be ferocious but not threatening enough to deter her, because she laughs again . “What's the problem?” she asks. “It's not a bad reputation to have.”
He scowls harder. If he's honest with himself, it’s that - “It's not the reputation I want."
“Why not?” Ochako asks, genuine as anything. “You've never said anything about being worried you're perceived as gay or something, before. You said the gossip didn't bother you.”
“Fuck you, it doesn't,” he hisses. Because it hasn't and it doesn't. “I'm not ashamed."
“So, what?” she asks blithely.
He huffs out a frustrated breath. “I don't care that people know , it's not a secret. I don't want it to be what people fucking think about when they think Dynamight. It doesn't fucking matter.”
Ochako shrugs. She sets the leg press to Katsuki's entire body weight and slides into the seat in what is undoubtedly a power move, unconscious or not. Her tenacity is something he'll always respect, even if right now she can fuck right off. “It matters to some people, for good reasons or not,” she says. She starts her first set and talks right through it like the monster she is. “I'll be honest - you've been on a one-man anti-media crusade since we were teenagers. Famously rude to pushy reporters, Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight.”
Katsuki grunts and finally moves over to the chest press. He lays down and stares a vicious hole into the gym ceiling. “And?”
“And ,” Ochako says, “we've all benefited from it - except you, probably. You've got your following that likes that about you, of course, but it makes it harder for you to take the regular popularity route. I, for one, would bottle up and drink that time you called the head anchor on TOKYO DAILY a misogynistic whack-ass piece of shit on live television, if I could. You know that guy lost his job?”
They both snarl good in the eat shit and die way that Ochako, in his opinion, should be better known for.
“I just think it's a good thing you're getting positive feedback, is all.” She finishes her set and starts her watch for her rest, breathing deep and steady. “You know you don't have to do anything about it, right?”
“Of course I fucking don't.”
Ochako rolls her eyes. “I mean this doesn't mean you have to be, like, the Gay Superhero, or something. I think you're going to see some coming-out and conversation, like, around you, though. Is Jeanist asking you to respond or anything?”
Katsuki huffs out something Ochako can't hear.
“Gonna have to be louder than that, champ.”
“Fuck off,” he spits. “He asked if I wanted official merch.”
Ochako gasps. “Are you going to?”
“What the fuck, no.”
“Whatever you say. And that's all he asked?”
Katsuki starts his own rest. He sits up and looks at her. “That's all.”
She hums and shrugs. “So you can do whatever you want. Not that you wouldn't have done that, anyway.”
“Damn right.”
She stares at him. “I won't wear the shirt anymore, if you don't want me to. But I like that it's an easy way to be out, you know? If someone sees me, they know but they don't really know. It's not any of their business but I get to make the choice to be seen. You opened a door, whether you meant to or not.”
This stuns him into silence long enough that she starts her next set. Finally, he says, “Wear the damn thing, I don't care.”
Ochako barks out a laugh. “Then I will. Thank you for your sacrifice.”
He flips her the bird, even though she can't see him. He's sure she feels the sentiment.
.
As a lifestyle, Katsuki doesn't do social media. The official Dynamight accounts have been inactive for almost two years. He doesn't want a PR team to touch them, either - he releases statements through Genius Agency and everything else can fuck right out of his face, thanks.
It's been six days since #YeahAnd. The former-3-A group chat has incidentally kept him updated on the goings-on because it still hasn't stopped.
A few small-time heroes have done interviews and talked about their own queer experiences. He doesn't read the articles, he doesn't care, but the people around him seem to think he should know about his influence, or whatever. In the meantime, he stops a villain from holding an entire shopping plaza in south Tokyo hostage and manages to wrangle a teenager when his godforsaken Godzilla-style giant lizard quirk goes berserk in the northern suburbs before the kid hurts anyone or himself. He stops motherfucking Godzilla 2.0 and people are still talking about his stupid interview. Just what the fuck does he have to do?
Katsuki’s on his lunch break. He’s patrolling with one of Jeanist’s newbies today, who left his lunchbox back at the agency and squeaked out no less than fifteen apologies under the weight of Katsuki’s glare. Fucking amateur.
So the kid runs off to grab his food - because Katsuki’s not a monster - and Katsuki eats his lunch in blessed solitary silence on top of the building they'd paused their route at. Because he's an unlucky bastard, his phone chimes.
Izuku. Katsuki swipes the message open.
First: a photo of Izuku’s bento of the day, because Katsuki has been forcing him to learn how to make a half-decent meal. He finds the time because he's a regimented, strong son-of-a-bitch, alright? Midoriya Izuku will not be getting scurvy under his watch.
He scans over the contents of said photo and then thumbs-up reacts. Adequate.
Then: a link to post, followed by a text that says, they look kind of like us, don't they?
Katsuki clicks his tongue and opens the link.
A picture of two teen boys - probably seventeen - in their school uniforms. They're pressed close together, both holding up their ties where they've tacked on little buttons that clearly say Yeah, and? in various colorful letters. The caption says definitely a dress code violation. feeling brave. #YeahAnd
Katsuki swallows. He doesn't know what Izuku's talking about; these brats look nothing like the two of them. But then he thinks: by that age, Katsuki had fought in a war and died and come back. Izuku had been given everything he'd ever dreamed of and had it ripped away from him and saved the world.
Feeling brave for these kids is so vastly different from his teenage experience. He doesn't get it. He doesn't -
But that's not true, is it? Because he thinks of his fifteen-year-old self, angry, so fucking angry and insecure, Jesus, staring at his bedroom ceiling and wondering why he didn't just get it when his classmates talked about looking at girls. What didn't he understand? It was all so stupid.
He remembers his seventeen-year-old self, finally, finally , just getting it. Everything slotting into place, right next to the gut-wrenching fear that nothing can be normal and I can't ever tell anyone and everything makes so much more sense, now.
He remembers his seventeen-year-old self, later, sitting on the roof of the dorm with Izuku, their heels hitting the side of the building. It had looked like the world stretched on forever. Izuku saying I need to tell you something and Katsuki just saying okay and Izuku taking a huge breath and admitting I think I’m bisexual and Katsuki saying okay again. Katsuki still doesn't know why Izuku had chosen to tell him first. He remembers begging off immediately so he could flee to his bedroom and think does he know does he know does he know.
It really hasn't been that long since he finally decided he didn't care and he'd tell the people in his life that mattered. Bravery hadn't really been a factor he'd ever considered. He's not sure why, after everything, he'd felt compelled to keep this part of himself close to his chest, like it needed protecting. As if it’s some kind of vulnerability.
Katsuki looks at the post again. He hesitates for a second and it pisses him off. What the fuck.
“What the fuck,” he grinds out, to himself and the birds and the fucking media networks. Bakugo Katsuki does whatever the fuck he wants and whatever he thinks is right. Let it be known.
He likes the post, because it's public and he's got memories of two seven-year-olds in his head that would have absolutely flipped shit if they'd ever gotten any sort of response from any hero. He resigns himself to whatever response that choice might end up having in media circles. Whatever. Whatever.
He reopens his messages and types out the one on the right looks like he's doing the no-haircut-challenge you thought was a good idea third year.
Izuku messages back quickly, It wasn't a CHALLENGE! I wanted to see what it looked like long!!!!! Kacchan!!!
That’s worse, he sends, and he puts his phone away even as it buzzes two, three, four more times in his pocket. He grins to himself.
.
Jeanist insists on having the news on in the main office, even though they would get a phone call if they needed to be somewhere. The television drones on, background noise to Katsuki’s keyboard clacking. He's been asked to give a quirk analysis report on Godzilla Boy (as he's taken to calling him) so the adults in his life can help him get it under control. They'd made some comments that they were nervous he was just too angry to handle it. Katsuki rolled his eyes then and he's even more annoyed by the sentiment now. The kid had been scared shitless. Katsuki’s pretty sure he'd been having a damn panic attack. Who gets so angry they hulk out and go lizard-bananas on their way to take a math test? Please.
“...now we’re back. We've just caught up with Pro Hero Shoto - hi! Shoto, thanks for taking a moment to speak with us.”
Katsuki’s eyes flick up to the screen, and then he rolls them and clicks his tongue. Todoroki is blank-staring the camera, as usual. Ochaco had said Katsuki is on a one-man anti-media crusade, but he's pretty sure Todoroki is unwittingly giving him a run for his money. On the TV, Todoroki’s eyes bore into the screen, all serious business, not a smile to be had.
“That was incredible work out there. And it looks like no civilian injuries!”
Todoroki nods. “I'm grateful to have gotten here in time to prevent any further damage.”
“Since we have you here, Shoto, we have a few questions.”
Todoroki’s eyebrows push together, but he nods. “Okay. I need to get back to help with cleanup as soon as possible.”
“Of course, Shoto! You're so dedicated to our safety, always!”
Katsuki rolls his eyes and turns back to his report. Why the fuck are they asking him what the approximate height of this kid’s lizard persona was? How would he know? They have photos! And access to the lizard himself!
“Do you have any comment on the recent events regarding Hero Dynamight’s coming out?”
Katsuki’s eyes snap back to the screen. The hell?
Todoroki’s face scrunches in even more. “I don't understand the question.”
“Oh, come on! You went to UA together, right? Was it a surprise to hear the rumors confirmed?”
Todoroki’s head tilts to the side, and then he fully turns his back to the camera and looks behind him. The camera slowly follows his point of view, swinging back to the smoking building that he'd presumably just come from. Off-camera, Todoroki’s voice says, “Aren't we supposed to be talking about the hostage rescue?
The reporter says, “Of course, of course. People have just been questioning why you've been so silent, Shoto.”
On screen, a helicopter floats down over the smoking roof and starts to douse whatever fire is remaining. Todoroki says, “I haven't been silent.”
“No?” probes the reporter. “You have seen the interview I’m discussing, right?”
The camera comes back to Todoroki’s face. His lips tilt up just the slightest bit, the way they do when he knows he's about to make an excellent joke, like he's pre-experiencing the reaction he's about to earn. Bastard. Todoroki looks straight into the camera and says, “Yeah. And?”
A few things happen at once:
The reporter splutters out some nonsense and the screen cuts back to the main office.
The former class 3-A group chat lights up. Had they all been watching the news? The hell?
Katsuki laughs so hard he fucking cries. Half-n-half bastard.
.
Every other week, Katsuki picks up an evening shift on Power Loader’s roster, patrolling outside of UA. It comes with the added benefits of fleeing Tokyo before rush hour and Izuku insisting on getting Katsuki’s favorite spicy ramen delivered for a late lunch together when he gets into town. No complaints either way.
(A reminder to any gods that may be listening: Katsuki’s now five years into the biggest secret of his fucking life. He has managed to convince Izuku he's picking up all of this extra work for general notoriety and because he wants a nicer car. Just goes to show Izuku doesn't know shit about pro hero paychecks or car prices these days - and Katsuki is happy to let him live in ignorance. He is crossing his fingers that Izuku never gets his nerd-analysis hat on to, like, help Katsuki so he can stop working so much, or something. Then he'll have to come up with a new lie and he's so fucking exhausted just from thinking up the first one. Fuck.)
The aforementioned lunch generally takes place in Izuku’s empty classroom during his planning block. When Katsuki makes it to the classroom door today, though, three students almost run right into him on their way out. They’re all scrawny but probably still upperclassmen - general studies, then. Or business. All three stare up at him like they've seen the devil.
Katsuki stares right back at them. Eventually, he clicks his tongue. He has no patience for this shit. “If you want to say something, say it.”
He doesn't exactly mean for it to sound like a threat, but, well. He's in full combat gear and at least half a foot taller than their tallest. Oh well.
“Kacchan!” floats Izuku’s voice from inside. His head pops out just a moment later. He's got his curls tied back today, and his glasses are hanging around his neck from an eyeglass cord like he's eighty years old. Nerd.
“Nerd,” Katsuki greets.
Izuku addresses the three brats. “Sato, Yamada, Matsumoto, this is Pro Hero Dynamight! Though I guess you already knew that. Kacchan, these three are in the business class. They're third-years.”
Katsuki grunts an acknowledgement. The students chorus out greetings, though they still look shocked he's there in front of them.
“Get back to class, okay? I'll see you three next week. C’mon, Kacchan, lunch is already here.” And Katsuki's ushered into the classroom. The door swings shut.
Katsuki drops into his usual seat right in front of Izuku’s desk. There are notes all over Izuku’s chalkboard from the Heroism and Ethics course he started last year. He's already expanded it to a second lecture series that co-teaches with one of the business professors called Heroism, Ethical Responsibility, and Liability. Apparently it's turned into quite the hot class to get into. Probably something to do with the hero that saved the world lecturing on the equating failure at your job to a personal moral failing being a generally bad viewpoint. If Katsuki had to guess.
(Izuku had practiced his first set of lectures on all of his pro hero friends. Katsuki will always remember the collective little gasp after he'd flipped his slide that said ‘ Should professional heroes feel obligated to sacrifice their lives for others?’ to ‘ Do professional heroes feel obligated to sacrifice their lives for others, whether they should or not? ’ and then clapped his hands and said, “Let’s explore why!”)
“Those students are - ” Izuku starts, and then he stops short in a way that Katsuki knows. It means he's just remembered something he isn't supposed to say.
Katsuki scowls. “Spit it the fuck out. What?”
“They work for the school journal. It publishes monthly now, up from once a quarter in just two years! The business school is really working hard on it. There are alumni that subscribe, isn't that crazy?”
“Izuku.”
Izuku heaves a sigh, like he knows exactly how this conversation is going to go before he even says anything. Asshole. “They want to write a history of #heropride, given its, ah. Relevance this month.”
Katsuki throws his hands up. “What? I’m never going to get the fuck away from this, am I? Every time I fucking turn around there’ll be shitty high schoolers bug-eyed at me for my fucking gay history releavance? Fuck!” He’s tilted back dangerously in his chair, boots planted on the corner of Izuku’s desk.
Izuku rubs a hand on his neck. “They probably looked shocked because they were here to ask if they thought I could help them get an interview.”
Katsuki stops. He stares. “With who?”
Izuku gives him a look.
“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” Katsuki drops his chair legs back down and leans his elbows on his knees. His voice is low. “And what did you say?”
“I said ,” Izuku says, rolling his eyes, like Katsuki’s being dramatic or something, “that I wouldn't ask a favor of you for something like this, because it's unfair to you. And that you don't like giving interviews, and they should know that, but that I would forward their inquiry email to you because it should be your decision.”
Katsuki finally fishes his lunch out of the paper bag on Izuku’s desk. He can feel his pulse in his face. He blows out a long, irritated breath. “The hell would I even say? I've tapped out on my shitty viral quotes or fucking whatever this month.”
Izuku laughs. “Not that you couldn't think of something creative to say - you're not giving yourself enough credit - but I really think they just want your story.”
“My gay story.”
Izuku shrugs. “I don't know that it's separate. It's just who you are - a part that makes you who you are, anyway. They're really thoughtful kids; you would be surprised.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Sure, whatever.” He takes a big bite of noodles in protest. Swallows. “Ugh, you sound more like a real teacher every day.”
Izuku scowls at him and rises to the bait immediately. “I am a real teacher, Kacchan.”
Katsuki raises his eyebrows. “Could've fooled me.” It's empty needling. Izuku is wearing a sweater and a collared shirt today. He looks more like a stereotypical teacher than Aizawa has ever dreamed of looking.
Izuku bristles, opens his mouth, then his face slides into that competitive bullshit that made Katsuki so angry as a teenager and peaks his interest as an adult. “You know,” he starts, twirling a chopstick in his fingers. “We've been working on grappling the last few weeks. I think my hand-to-hand’s gotten even better - I wonder how you'd fare now? Have you been practicing?”
Katsuki sputters. “Practicing? ”
Izuku shrugs. “Study and practical application are two different things.”
“You wanna find out, teach?”
Izuku casually glances at his watch. “I've got an hour.”
Katsuki gets to his feet. “More than enough time to kick your ass.”
Izuku follows suit. He grins. “Bring it on.”
.
Katsuki’s not even angry when the forwarded student email shows up at the beginning of his patrol shift. He should've known.
.
Katsuki's shift at UA ends at eleven. He's still in Musutafu at two in the morning, because, would you believe - Godzilla Boy is actually from here , and not from Tokyo? Small world. Small island nation. Small bowl of fucks given because Katsuki should have been asleep two hours ago.
A few unfortunate circumstances that lead up to this moment:
This time, Godzilla Boy is on the beach. Great! Less damage. More space. Not really any rooftops, but Katsuki’s not a quitter. He manages to flashbang the kid into disorientation before anything bad happens.
And then, of course, something bad happens.
Namely, the kid becomes kid-sized again, and because of some fucked-up quirk nonsense, apparently he reverts to wherever his head is located, even when it's ten stories in the air. Where there was once giant lizard body, there is now only empty space. And the kid is falling. And screaming his lungs out, because. Yeah, sure, that's fair.
Katsuki rockets after him, but of course kid-sized can also include teenagers that are 5’11 and gangly as fuck, so he's all screaming, flailing limbs. Godzilla Boy does not respond well to being told to calm the fuck down and stop moving, fuck and instead screams, “We’re gonna die!!!” into Katsuki’s already-ringing ears. Katsuki manages to get an arm around Godzilla Boy’s chest and slow their descent with his other hand. He’ll admit a botched action of his own, though: he should have noticed the building they’d been hurtling towards - the only one even remotely close to them, as luck would have it.
As it is, they aren't slowed down enough to not bust through the roof of this - half-built parking deck? Katsuki has no idea. There is dust everywhere. He groans aloud once he finally has air in his lungs again. Godzilla Boy scrambles off of him - unhurt, apparently, great.
“Mr. Dynamight, are you -”
“I told you the last time,” Katsuki coughs. He closes his eyes for a moment. “Do not call me ‘Mr.’ fucking anything.”
The kid audibly swallows. His voice is small. “Are you okay?”
“I'll be fine,” Katsuki says, because obviously, though he's not quite sure of the extent of the damage yet. He manages to sit up and hisses through it. Cool, definitely a cracked rib or two. And - there it is. Dislocated shoulder. Swell.
He takes a quick assessment of their situation. There's no way they're blasting out of this building without the whole thing coming down. For now, they're surrounded by rubble but Katsuki can see the stars through some of the gaps, so they won't suffocate.
And now it's now: two in the morning. Rescue is on its way. Just perfect.
Katsuki doesn't care why the kid was out at ass o’clock in the morning, nor does he ask. He does, however, give a shit that the kid has started violently shivering in the last ten minutes, so he summons up the will to dig around in his pack for the fire-starter cube support items he keeps there. God, he's going on two shifts, two hours of commuting, and twenty-two hours awake at this point.
The kid jumps when Katsuki pops off a quick spark, but his eyes are wide in the fire-light when the starter catches. The heat is immediate. Hatsume is kind of a genius.
The kid scoots closer, holding out his trembling hands. “Thank you,” he whispers, and he tucks his face into his knees.
But not before Katsuki fucking sees it.
The shirt.
Simple embroidered text across the chest. Maybe three inches long. Yeah, and?
Katsuki will never be free.
“Hey,” he says, and the kid startles again. Instead of whatever he was going to say, though, his mouth asks, “Why the fuck were you out here?” So much for not caring. He's still not quite convinced that he actually does.
The kid bites his bottom lip. “I got - anxious. I went on a run to calm down.” He swallows. “And then I didn't. You know. Calm down. So.” He gestures vaguely to the situation they're in.
Katsuki grunts in acknowledgement.
The kid keeps talking. Of course. “I don't mean to do this, you know. I'm sorry you had to - to save me again. From my own -”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. Fuck he's tired. “That's my job .” His phone buzzes. Jeanist messages him back despite the late hour and insists he take the full day off tomorrow. He scowls and starts typing away even as he continues talking. “Don't be fucking sorry. Everyone needs saving sometimes - that's the whole gig.”
The kid makes a wounded noise. Ugh. “Even you?”
“Yeah, kid, even me.” Loathe as he may be to admit it, most days. He'll need to tell Jeanist if he wants him to work the victims support teams he'll need to keep him awake for almost twenty-four hours, that's when his ‘victim-focused patience' kicks in, fucking apparently. Then he says, “Unless you go off and do something stupid on purpose - then you ought to be apologizing.” He's trying, okay?
Inexplicably, the kid laughs. It's a quiet, timid thing that grates on Katsuki’s nerves, but he looks a little less like he's going to vibrate right out of his skin (something, Katsuki notes, he is sort of capable of doing). Because he'll never know peace, the kid says, “I thought it was really cool, the other day. Your interview.”
Cool, huh? Katsuki doesn't say anything.
The kid swallows. “I just - I've looked up to you for a long time. You can't imagine how much it freaked me out that you showed up last week. Entrance exams freak me out, and I thought, I’ll be confident like Dynamight! And then I wasn’t , and I messed everything up, and then you appeared. I thought I was dreaming.”
The noise Katsuki makes has zero sympathy in it. “It was the one and only.”
The kid hides his face and takes a deep breath. He lifts his head back up and looks Katsuki straight in the eyes - points for bravery, even if it's kind of pathetic. “I know . It's been a big couple of weeks, you know? It's embarrassing - but I've met you twice! I never thought I would.”
Katsuki has never been good at this sort of attention. He wants the roaring applause of thousands from outside, where he doesn't actually have to speak to any of them. They just acknowledge, you know, his general greatness. But this? Terrible. The fuck is he even supposed to say?
“I just - and with what everyone has been saying on social media and stuff, about, you know, you , I don't know. I remember thinking, oh, nothing has to change. You know? You were the same hero I see on TV, even after - well.”
The kid finally stops talking. Katsuki breathes for a few moments.
“When I was your age,” he finally says, like he's an old man or something, “my favorite hero saved my life. It was embarrassing as hell and a lot of bad shit happened - at the time, it made me feel weak. I carried that around for a long time.” He breathes through the feeling, because he's tired and sometimes, when he closes his eyes, he can still see All Might standing there, brittle, pointing at Izuku. He can still feel that acidic self-hatred bubble up, even if it was a long, long time ago. He texts with All Might once a week and came to terms with his own teenage limitations long ago - the feeling is still akin to pain , though, if he prods at it. He tries not to. He shrugs one-shouldered. “Things happen. You fight harder.”
He rolls his eyes. “And as far as all of the you know,” he mocks the kid’s voice, “nothing has changed. Not for me.”
“But it could for someone else? Change things?”
Katsuki shrugs again. Outside, the faint whir of a helicopter is fading in. Finally. He stares the kid down for a second, then says, “Sure it could. Don't take anyone's shit, if it does.”
The kid grins at him.
He doesn't say your quirk allows you to turn into a ten-story lizard monster. You can hold your ground , because it's not quite the right thing to say - though it is a sentiment he agrees with. The kid should hold his ground anyway, lizard or no.
Katsuki feels like all he's been doing is talking the last few weeks. He’s tired of it.
He glances at the kid.
There’s more than one way to be a hero.
He huffs out a quiet laugh to himself. Sure. Keep it coming.
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An update to the entry under GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD: DYNAMIGHT / BAKUGO KATSUKI in Izuku’s most recently re-copied hero notebook:
- An excerpt from the most recent issue of UA MONTHLY from the article: A QUEER HERO HISTORY
TODAY AND TOMORROW
The most recent wave of the Hero Pride social movement - after years of silence in post-war recovery - has been catalyzed by UA Alumnus Pro Hero Dynamight. This past March, Dynamight came out as gay during a hectic interview with a local news station. To their pressing questioning of whether or not the unsubstantiated rumors of his sexuality were true, he responded with a blunt “Yeah, and?” that quickly gained traction on the internet as a popular stand-in for coming out. The phrase spread across social media and made its way quickly into the public, showing up in the vicinity of schools, celebrities, and other pro heroes alike.
Medalled as a war hero as just a teenager and with five years on the professional hero circuit, Dynamight has plenty of experience dealing with what many heroes call the ‘media circus’ that professional heroes have to navigate. Dynamight has always been known for his standoffish and abrasive relationship with media outlets - but this time, a conversation has sparked on just what we, as an audience, are interested in listening to. Research shows that more and more citizens experience parasocial relationships with heroes, and this is leading to more aggressive tactics by media outlets and talk shows to get more information out of heroes for the views. Heroes like Dynamight have been making it hard to get clippable footage to post. This time was the exception. If you ask him, though, Dynamight says he wasn't trying to do anything, at that moment. He's just trying to do his job, as always.
“I meant what I said. I just told the truth,” Dynamight told us in his first response since the event. Dynamight didn't speak to if he himself has experienced any homophobic sentiment since his public coming out. He says he's only “here to protect the people of this city,” at the end of the day. These writers appreciate his hard work.
When asked about the growing use of his words to support people across the country being out, loud, and proud, Dynamight said, “Wear your shirts, [whatever] you want. You’ll find the people in your life that see bravery for what it is.”
The Hero Pride movement is a subsidiary of the overarching queer rights movement, which has been taking substantial strides towards [...]
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[Mina]: shared an image
[Mina]: what do you think he said that they had to censor him into “[whatever]”
[Denki]: AH HAHA
[Kirishima]: bro!!! this is so cool though!!
[Jirou]: betting pool: I think it was ‘whatever the fuck’
[Denki]: started a poll
[Mina]: added an option
[Mina]: LOL I bet Mido can confirm for us, I’ll ask, I’ll ask
[Bakugo]: I’ll kill all of you
[Kirishima]: we love you, dude!! proud of you!!
[Bakugo]: yeah, yeah
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[All Might]: Good job, Bakugo-kid! What a week it's been!
The string of emojis tacked onto the end make him laugh, because All Might is turning more and more into an old man every day. Katsuki wants to say good job for what? Because it feels like nothing. But maybe it's not.
[Bakugo]: thanks, All Might
Maybe it's not.