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“Bakugou kind of gives me Endeavor vibes though.”
“Actually… I could totally see that. They’ve got that same stubborn determination to be number one, and more abrasive personalities. Not that that’s a bad thing, of course!” Sero flailed when Katsuki cut a sharp glare his way. “It’s just not what most heroes aim for in regard to public image!”
There were low mutters of agreement across the room. Katsuki was seething. Endeavor? They were comparing him to Todoroki’s dad? Todoroki’s majorly abusive, piece of crap, should’ve been fed to wolves as a child, father? He squeezed his fists tight enough to feel his nails bite into his skin.
“Don’t you ever compare me to that steaming pile of garbage,” Katsuki hissed, and the room fell silent in surprise. “I don’t care what else you say but keep that dirtbag’s name away from mine in any and all capacities.”
No one was expecting such a scathing response and many sent panicked looks towards Todoroki, who was sitting on the couch, watching silently. Iida, in particular, was not pleased.
“Bakugou!” He chastised. “That is hardly appropriate for a hero-in-training to say, especially seeing as Todoroki is right here! I must demand you apologize immediately!”
“Go to hell, four-eyes,” Katsuki sneered. He picked himself up from the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets. To be honest, he was the slightest bit surprised, the slightest bit hurt, at being compared to Endeavor, even if his class didn’t know what an asshole the guy really was.
Is that what they think of me? Is that who they think I’m going to be? He wondered, then, quieter, Is that what my future looks like?
Hell no. That would never be his future. He refused to even entertain the thought. If that was who he was destined to imitate… it would be better to never see the future at all. He thought of Endeavor, beating on his kid, raising his children as tools rather than people, vying for power, hurting others in his pursuit to be the best . He thought of himself, beating on Deku, treating his classmates as stepping stones rather than people, vying for the number one spot, uncaring of who he had to crush to get there.
He never wanted to believe he could become Endeavor, but maybe… maybe he was already halfway there. His classmates seemed to think so. If anyone had the ability to say, it would be Deku, who’d experienced his cruelty firsthand, or Todoroki, who grown up under the domineering fist of the Flame Hero. Did they agree? Did they compare him to Endeavor?
Do you see your father when you look at me? He wanted to ask Todoroki. Do I scare you?
“Bakugou! Bakugou!” Iida shouted after him. Katsuki ignored it until he reached the entrance to the elevator. Only then did he glance back to meet Todoroki’s eyes, and then Deku’s. Todoroki was oddly content, considering the chaos around him, but there was something unreadable written across Deku’s face. It was rare to see something Katsuki couldn’t decipher when it came to Deku and it had his shoulders tensing slightly.
“I’m a lot of things,” Katsuki said, voice low and a touch more vulnerable than he meant to let seep in, “but similar to Endeavor? I’d rather drop dead.”
Strangely enough, as the elevator door closed, it almost looked like Deku believed him. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
No one brought the incident up again. Katsuki wasn’t sure if that was because they’d been hushed by Deku or because they just didn’t want to risk his wrath but he was satisfied either way.
Not talking about it though, did not stop it from lingering awkwardly in the air. It was like Katsuki could see the questions on the tip of his classmate’s tongues every time they spoke, especially Iida.
When two weeks passed without anything mentionable, Katsuki let himself start to forget it. That was, until the next hero class.
“Due to All Might’s absence today, a new teacher has been brought in for a special one time lesson on melee combat,” Aizawa droned as the bell rang. “Don’t be surprised when it’s not All Might waiting for you.”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow and huffed when the class broke into excited whispers. Still, he let the crowd guide him down the hall and to the locker rooms. Getting changed was a mindless activity now even with the large number of details to remember and small pieces to fasten. Kirishima, lacing up his boots beside Katsuki, smiled widely.
“I wonder who our guest teacher is? Do you think it’ll be someone from the Top 10 since they’re replacing All Might?” Kirishima asked, punching his fists together in excitement.
Katsuki grunted. “Who cares so long as they can take a hit? I’ve got some pent up energy to use.”
“Really?” Kirishima rolled his eyes playfully. “Couldn’t tell at all.”
Katsuki huffed a laugh and punched him in the shoulder. His amusement died instantly when he walked out and got a look at their special instructor.
Beside him, Kirishima took a sharp breath while flicking his eyes between Katsuki and their instructor, but Katsuki, though scowling, didn’t say a word. He just stomped past Endeavor to the far side of the room and turned his head to stare at the wall. Kirishima followed warily.
“You good?” Kirishima asked, before wincing. “I mean, obviously you’re good but like. I know Endeavor isn’t your favourite hero and you got pretty upset, um. Then. And I just want to make sure that you’re—“
“I’m fine.”
Kirishima frowned but didn’t push it. They leaned against the wall and watched everyone pile in. It didn’t escape Katsuki’s notice how everyone seemed to being staring at Endeavor and him with the sort of emotion you feel right before a hurricane. It was a silence of held breaths and shared glances. Evidently, it didn’t escape Endeavor’s notice either.
“Is there a problem?” Endeavor boomed, harsh eyes surveying the class before following everyone’s eyes to Katsuki. No one spoke aloud but it didn’t stop them from conveying their thoughts on their faces. Katsuki scowled harder, uncrossing his arms and kicking off the wall.
“Screw this. I’m sick or whatever. I’m going to see Recovery Girl.”
Katsuki barely took a step before a scalding hand landed on his shoulder.
“Who gave you permission to leave?” Endeavor said, eyes narrowed and beard alight with dangerous sparks. Katsuki smacked the hand off his shoulder with a silent snarl.
“I don’t need your permission to do anything, dirtbag.”
Endeavor’s beard flared at the same time his eyes lit up with rage. “I am your teacher for today and you will respect me.”
Katsuki couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “I’d sooner hug Deku, you toerag. Being my teacher doesn’t mean anything if you haven’t earned respect. Hell, with your career so far, you can barely call yourself a teacher at all. What are you gonna teach us, how to light half an innocent neighbourhood on fire?”
“Listen here, boy, you may not agree with my methods but I am a hero, and I have been one for longer than you’ve been alive. I’ve defeated more villains than you ever will. Show some goddamn respect!”
Katsuki barked out a derisive laugh. “You call yourself a hero? For every villain you’ve defeated, we both know there are civilians you’ve injured as well. Your agency has the most expensive insurance because your propensity for property damage is the highest ever recorded. So a hero? Don’t kid yourself.” Katsuki bared his teeth in the mockery of a smile. “You’re nothing more than a rabid dog that needs to be muzzled.”
I’m nothing like you. I’ll never be like you. I would rather kill myself than become you.
Endeavor’s face contorted into an expression of pure loathing. With flames in full force, he reached out to grab at Katsuki’s face. His fingers were red with fire and Katsuki couldn’t help but flinch at the speed of their approach.
“Father.”
Endeavor’s hand stopped just before it could burn Katsuki, close enough that Katsuki could feel the heat radiating like a furnace. Endeavor was staring at Todoroki. Todoroki was entirely blank-faced but somehow he still managed to convey an intense hatred in his words.
“Fuyumi will ask how my day was,” Todoroki said simply and, as if struck, Endeavor immediately pulled away from Katsuki. Katsuki stood there, face hot and shoulders locked for a blow, for a few more seconds before stepping away.
He stormed out of the room, fighting to ignore the shaking in his hands and the unsteady pitter-pattering in his chest. Distantly, he heard Kirishima say something before someone hushed him. Good. Katsuki wasn’t sure he could deal with talking to everyone right then.
As soon as he saw the bathrooms, Katsuki slammed the door open and threw himself into a stall. He sat on the closed toilet seat and took several shaky breaths. His vision was blurry, like he was looking through his dad’s prescription glasses, and the world seemed unsteady.
After what could have been a minute or three hours, Katsuki unfolded himself and stepped out of the stall.
Standing in front of the sinks was Todoroki, awkwardly leaning against the counter.
“You know.” It was a statement, not a question.
Katsuki walked up the sink and started washing his hands, avoiding eye contact. “What gave it away? Cursing out your dad or the panic attack afterwards?”
“Actually, it was the flinch at his hand movements, but those were good clues as well.”
Katsuki couldn’t help but snort. There was a moment of silence as Todoroki stared at Katsuki and Katsuki pointedly avoided looking back. What a mess this had become.
“You’re not my father.”
Katsuki’s head jerked Todoroki’s way, eyes wide. He sucked in a breath and hated how easily Todoroki seemed to be able to read him. What was with Todoroki and his freaky ability to be attuned to people’s emotions but unable to express his own? Actually, on second thought, it was probably the child abuse and trauma of a broken family. Still, it sent shivers down Katsuki’s spine.
“Hah?” Katsuki scowled, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt. “Obviously. What are you even talking about? After all , if I was your father, you wouldn’t have that ugly ass hair. What even is that? It’s like a failed candy cane.”
Todoroki tilted his head.
“You are not my father,” Todoroki repeated, maintaining such intense eye contact that Katsuki couldn’t breathe. “You will never be my father. You are much better. Don’t compare yourself to him, Bakugou. You are a child. He is forty-five. You are changing. He is stagnant. You are not perfect, but you are far from my father. Don’t mistake yourself for him.”
Katsuki was stunned into silence for a minute. Was that true? Could he bring himself to believe it? How many times had he been told he was too violent, too selfish, too rude? How many times had he hurt someone, mocked someone, bullied someone? Did he have the right to be called better than Endeavor? But… if anyone would know, it would be the one tortured under Endeavor’s hands. The one who’d never shied away from honesty with Katsuki before, no matter how brutal. Maybe, just this once, he could trust the words being shared with him.
“Tch,” he scoffed, turning his head to hide the pink that tinted his ears. “As if I need you to tell me that… And don’t call me a child, you idiot! I’m older than you! Older than you!”
“Are you really?”
“Yes! By eight months,” Katsuki insisted. “I’m the eldest in the class! If anything, you’re the child.”
“Oh.” Todoroki frowned. “In that case, I apologize. It’s just that you’re so far behind in maturity, it can be hard to remember that you were actually born before me.”
Katsuki slowly turned his head to face Todoroki, eye twitching. “…What did you just say to me?”
“Oh my, you really are older, huh? I said-“
“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU DIMWIT!”
“That’s definitely not what I said.”
“GET BACK HERE! YOUR HEAD IS GOING TO HANG ON MY WALL AS A DECORATION WHEN I’M DONE WITH YOU!”
“I don’t know if now is the best time to play Tag, Bakugou. Lunch will be ready soon.”
Katsuki screamed.
Bonus:
“Bakugou, why did I get a complaint from Endeavor about you being ‘disrespectful and obscenely hostile’?”
“‘Cause he’s a whiny four-year-old who likes to throw tantrums.”
“…A reason I can put on an official document, please.”
Bonus Bonus:
“Aizawa, under ‘cause for incident’, you just wrote increasingly vulgar cursing for a whole paragraph.”
“I transcribed Bakugou’s response to the question, although admittedly only the beginning because we didn’t have enough space for the rest.”
“…the rest?”
“He continued on for another forty-five minutes, getting more creative with each insult.”