Chapter 12 - Coward

Bakugou fought the urge to take your hand in his and instead opted to walk slightly ahead of you through the suburban neighborhood. He didn't trust himself to remain composed with you looking the way you did. His stomach was doing backflips and his mind was in a jumble just thinking of how pretty you were.

You'd never been to this area before and happily took in the sights. You passed a small elementary school with an outdoor playground and blacktop, good for playing hopscotch or jumping rope. A shopping district ran perpendicular, likely catering to a younger crowd based on the number of brightly colored signs for sweets you could see. There was a thin strip of wooded area that you passed through by walking over a pedestrian bridge, seemingly a town line. As you continued to walk, the area got more residential. Bakugou stopped and you almost ran into his back, not paying attention to anything but the rows of neat houses along the street.

"C'mon." He turned down a walkway up to a large off-white, brick house. The architecture was more modern than the buildings to either side with curved roofs and long windows. Two small balconies could be seen to your right and trees dotted the property. You hesitated before following him.

"What is this place?" He didn't answer you. Without knocking, he opened the door. "Bakugou, what the hell do you think you'd doing? This is clearly someone's house!" you hissed at his back.

"Oi!" he called out loudly as he stepped into a neat living room. The decor was equally modern as the exterior of the house, the walls covered in texture. None of the furniture in the room matched, but it all went. Clearly someone had an eye for design. You glanced up at the high ceilings before tentatively entered the residence.

"Katsuki? Is that you? Get your ass in here and help me out!" You heard a powerful female voice call out from behind the nearest wall.

Did she say Katsuki?

"Yeah, yeah!" he barked, taking his shoes off and heading toward the voice. You stood frozen in your spot. "Take your shoes off Ashtray. And wipe that stupid look off your face," he called from over his shoulder. You did as instructed as he walked into the next room.

"Chop these would you? Dinner will be ready in twenty." You rounded the corner and saw a blonde woman's back. She passed Bakugou a couple carrots and an onion, head still facing a steaming pot on the stove. Bakugou huffed as he took the vegetables, grabbed a knife and began to expertly dice.

"Oh! and do these too." She turned around to pass him several mushrooms when she saw you standing in the doorway. You tried to paste a confident smile on your face, but it just came out shy and awkward. "MASARU! KATSUKI BROUGHT A GIRL HOME! A GIRL! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!"

"SHUT IT YOU OLD HAG!" Bakugou screamed at the blonde woman, who now that you'd been snapped from your timidity, looked exactly like an older, female version of Bakugou.

Oh God...

The woman ignored Bakugou's shouts, and seemingly by magic was now in front of you, leaning down to your height, grabbing your cheeks and touching your hair.

"AND SHE'S CUTE!!" she cooed after finishing her inspection.

He slammed the knife down on the counter. "DAMMIT YOU-" Her hand shot out, smacking Bakugou on the back of the head. Your eyes widened in horror.

At that moment a tall man with short brown hair, a mustache and a kind face wearing glasses came into the kitchen and witnessed the scene.

"Hello dear," he said in a calming tone.

"Um. Hello sir," you replied, still not sure what alternate universe you'd just walked into.

"Sweetie what's your name?" The blonde woman had a palm plastered over Bakugou's mouth as she spoke to you. Bakugou looked like he might try to bite through the hand.

"[l/n] [f/n]. It's nice to meet you." Your inflection suggested a question more than a statement. You gave a polite bow. Bakugou finally ripped the hand from his mouth.

"SHE'S MY PARTNER THIS MONTH AT UA!" Bakugou shouted before crossing the space to come stand next to you. Your gaze bounced between the adults and Bakugou, silently asking what you were supposed to do in this situation.

"Well, you didn't say it was a girl! You said it was someone you called Ashtray!" the woman barked.

"Oh yeah. That's me." You raised your hand, before awkwardly scratching the back of your neck.

"YOU CALL THIS LOVELY YOUNG LADY ASHTRAY?!"

The kind-looking man faced you as the screaming match between the two blondes began again.

"I'm Bakugou Masaru. That's my wife Mitsuki." Mitsuki stopped shouting for two seconds to give you a kind smile and wave before barreling back into her argument. "I hope you and Katsuki have been getting along as partners."

He's so nice and normal. Kiri was right.

"He's-" Bakugou stopped shouting and turned to listen to your answer- "been a good partner. He's very driven and pushes me to be better. I've learned a lot from him in just these first few days." It surprised you how easy it had been to say. He really had been a good partner. You looked up to Bakugou as you finished. His eyes were soft.

"Well, that's nice to hear. Not everyone appreciates Katsuki's ambition. My brat can be too damn hostile for people to notice any heroic tendencies." Mitsuki patted Bakugou's hair. He growled before pulling away sharply. You chuckled lightly.

"Well, he doesn't scare me," you answered with a soft smile toward Bakugou. A faint pink tinted his cheeks. You smelled burning and looked down at your fingers.

Nope. Not me...

"FUCK! DINNER!" Mitsuki ran back to the stove.

***

Twenty minutes later you found yourself around a long pine dinner table. Bakugou sat across from you with Masaru to your right and Mitsuki to your left. You caught Bakugou staring at you from the corner of your eye anytime you spoke to either of his parents. He seemed almost worried.

The ramen Mitsuki made was delicious. When she offered seconds you happily obliged. "So, what's your quirk [f/n]?" Mitsuki asked as she ladled the broth into your bowl.

You took the bowl back from her. "Smoke Bakugou-san."

"Oh please! That makes me feel so old! Call me Mitsuki." She smiled as she retook her seat. "And what do you mean by smoke honey?"

"Well, I can make and manipulate smoke. I can use it to form walls, or semi-solid ropes, or create smokescreens," you explained before bringing the tender noodles to your mouth.

"Can you use all the smoke my idiot son's explosions make? I feel like we were setting off the smoke alarm every other day for a while there."

"Yeah. She can," Bakugou answered, his arms crossed over his chest, clearly annoyed at being called an idiot. "But I still beat her in fights all the time," he added, as if it were suddenly a competition.

"Yeah, maybe in hand-to-hand without quirks," you shot back. "Did you already forget our first battle where I dropped you on your ass?"

Two can play at this game.

"I GOT OUT OF THAT HOLD!"

"ONLY BECAUSE I WASN'T GOING TO LET YOU BLOW YOURSELF UP!" Mitsuki and Masaru watched as the two of you volleyed your superiority back and forth across the table.

Mitsuki started to laugh as Bakugou got more riled up. "Honey, you are welcome here anytime if you can go toe to toe with this punk."

***

"Would you mind if I used your restroom?" you asked as Bakugou grumpily cleared the dinner dishes away.

"Of course. The one on this floor is being remodeled, so just head up the stairs on your left," Masaru replied. You nodded politely and made your way up the stairs.

On the left. You opened the first door and froze. Certainly not a bathroom, Bakugou's bedroom was splayed out before you. You kept your hand on the doorknob as you glanced around the space. A tall dresser was to your left against the wall. A series of trophies and awards covered the top. His Sports Festival gold medal had been framed, obviously by Mitsuki, and hung on the wall above. Bakugou's bed, much like in his dorm room was covered in a thick black comforter. The light, wooden headboard leaned against a burnt orange accent wall. A small desk sat in the corner while a moderately sized television sat opposite the bed on a stand holding a multitude of video game consoles.

But the thing that truly took your breath away was the wall directly across from you, covered floor to ceiling in newspaper cutouts, posters, magazine covers and personal drawings of Bakugou's hero - All Might. Your heart swelled as you took in the innocence of his childhood bedroom. What a closet otaku.

When you looked closer, you could see scribbles in his handwriting on the pieces of paper. You tentatively stepped in and walked to the wall breathlessly running your fingertips over the words.

"Use gauntlets to get as much power as a Texas Smash...how to measure?"

"Kid said he liked my costume, 21 December"

"5K time 16:31 quirkless, 9:01 with explosions. Should be able to at least double my speed. Need to go faster!"

"20 July, Push-up record 93."

"Girl thanked me for rescuing her cat, 3 September."

Your eyes took in the beauty of his ambition. They were records of his accomplishments. They were a drive to always be better.  They were reminders that he was already a hero.

"I DID RINSE THEM OFF FIRST!" A new shouting match between Bakugou and his mother pulled you from your thoughts. You smiled to yourself, walking away from the wall and closing the door quietly before heading to find the actual bathroom.

***

The rest of the evening wasn't as explosive as your initial introductions. Over a simple dessert of green tea flavored ice cream, the Bakugous asked you all about living in America. You learned they were both designers, which explained the interesting architecture and decor. You got to hear a few stories about young Bakugou, which had you laughing and him cringing. Mitsuki even threatened to pull out baby pictures which sent the boy on a new tirade.

After two hours Bakugou stated that it was time to go back to the dorms. Mitsuki wrapped you in a big hug and whispered, "I'm glad he met you. You seem good together," before pushing a container of leftover ramen into your hands. Your cheeks went pink.

"You be nice to her you brat. We like her." Mitsuki glared at her son before planting a kiss on his forehead. He grimaced and pretended to wipe it away. Talk about mixed signals.

It was dark outside as you left the Bakugou house. You carried your little container of ramen, feeling its warmth as you began walking back the way you'd come.

"You wanna tell me why I just met your parents?" you finally said, feeling oddly more connected to the explosive blond.

"They wanted to meet my fucking partner. Don't read into it," he huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground.

"You mean, you didn't want me to meet them?" you teased. He lifted his head to meet your gaze. He parted his lips as if to say something, but then closed them thinking better of it. His glance returned to the pavement.

"Well, they were nice," you said. He didn't look up. "I especially liked all the stories about wittle Katsuki," you emphasized his name the same way Mitsuki had.

"I'll kill you."

"I know." You walked the rest of the way back to the dorms in a comfortable silence.

***

"Stay behind for a few minutes [l/n]," Aizawa instructed as he dismissed the rest of the class. Bakugou looked over his shoulder to your seat. You merely shrugged, not knowing what your teacher could want. You waved the ash blond off before standing up and walking to the front of the class.

Once the room cleared out Aizawa began, "How has partnering with Bakugou been going?"

"Why is everyone so concerned about that? It's fine," you answered with an exhale.

"You're still relatively new to the class and I wanted to check in and offer some assistance." You listened. "I watched your battle footage against Bakugou from the first hero training session. Since we've focused mainly on rescues the last few weeks, I haven't been able to witness more of your quirk technique in a fight, but I noticed you used your smoke like a capture device."

"I still have to be strong enough to pull on the ropes, but yeah. It's useful to hold opponents." Your brow furrowed as you tried to discern where this was going and hoped it had nothing to do with Monoma.

"I thought as much. Well then, if you're open to it, I'd like to help train you in your capture technique." Your eyes widened. Aizawa's capture scarf was one of the more effective pieces of support technology you'd ever seen; it was made of steel wire alloy woven with carbon nanofibers. He was rumored to have spent years perfecting his technique.

"That would be... amazing. Yes. Please," you stuttered out.

"Good. Meet in practice room A at 4 p.m. tomorrow," he said, already moving toward the exit.

"Sensei?" He stopped and glanced back. Your voice was shaky and nervous. "Why am I getting special lessons? Am I not meeting expectations?"

"You are meeting them. I want you to exceed them. 4 p.m. [l/n]." And with a glint in his eye he left the room.

***

You walked into practice room A the following day. Your stomach had been in knots throughout classes in anticipation of your special training. You were the first one to arrive, knowing how much Aizawa sensei hated tardiness and irrationality you came ten minutes early. Taking a seat, you began stretching on the floor.

Aizawa entered at exactly 4 p.m., followed by a boy with indigo hair and bags under his eyes almost as bad as your teacher.

"[l/n] [f/n], this is Shinsou Hitoshi from Class 2-B." You gave a polite nod as you stood from the mat. "Shinsou will be training with us." The boy pulled out a scarf nearly identical to Aizawa's from a black backpack and placed it around his neck.

"Do I need any special equipment?" you asked, almost wanting a scarf to be a member of the tired guys club.

"You have your smoke. Before I give any instruction, I'd like to see what you do naturally. Shinsou, go stand about twenty paces away and let yourself be captured." Shinsou hadn't spoken yet, but a faint smirk grew on his lips. You lit your fingertips and began pulling in the smoke. Once Shinsou was in position Aizawa calmly said, "Go."

You released thick tendrils of smoke toward the boy. They wrapped around his knees. You tugged and watched as he toppled forward, bracing himself with his arms before hitting the mat. You held onto the ropes.

"Why did you go for the knees?" Aizawa asked, seemingly unimpressed.

"If you can destabilize and ground your opponent, you'll be in a more favorable position," you answered, pleased that Shinsou had gone down so easily. You hadn't even had much time to collect smoke.

"But what if you wanted to bring them toward you? Can you pull Shinsou in that position?" You tried to pull the tendrils toward you, but with Shinsou now on all fours, it took a lot of effort to spin him so his legs were facing forward and then haul him several feet closer.

"I could have definitely gotten up in the time it took you to do that," Shinsou finally spoke, still on the ground. You pouted slightly.

"Shinsou stand up," Aizawa said flatly. You released the smoke from around his knees and the boy rose. "This time [l/n], aim as if you wanted to bring your assailant toward you." You reabsorbed the old smoke, adding some fresh to your hold. Focusing on Shinsou's feet you let your tendrils fly. The ropes wrapped around the boy's ankles and once secure you pulled hard, forcing him to fall backward this time, feet in front of him. From this position you tugged the ropes toward you with less effort, but it still took a lot of your energy to drag his body.

"Better. Now Shinsou, capture [l/n]." You let your tendrils fall once more, pulling in the smoke you would surely need again any minute. You stood still, waiting for Shinsou's attack.

The boy loosened the scarf around his neck before throwing a long strand around your torso. The fabric pinned your arms to your sides and pressed the air from your lungs. In the next moment, the boy turned his back to you, pulling the material as hard as he could over his shoulder. As you went flying toward his body, he continued his rotation to once again face you, this time with an uppercut poised as your jaw. If he had actually gone for the strike, there would have been no way for you to dodge.

"[l/n]. Tell me what Shinsou did that you failed to do." Shinsou released you from the mess of fabric.

"Besides being better in every way." He crossed his arms and puffed out his chest slightly. There was a cocky smile on his face. Was the boy teasing you? On the scale from Kaminari to Bakugou you couldn't tell if he was flirting or being a prick. You lifted an eyebrow at his comment before turning to Aizawa.

"He fully immobilized me. If he had had any kind of emitter power, me leaving his arms free to move would have led to possible injury. He also had a plan after getting me in close. That punch would have been unavoidable," you answered. While a bit dejected, you were also intrigued at how you could improve with your own ropes.

"You're knowledgeable in hand-to-hand and the correct way to take down an opponent quirkless, but you need to use different skills when incorporating your gift. Your smoke allows you to have ranged attacks, but you can also use it for close combat. Developing better technique can compensate for how fast you can attack and how much you can hold." You nodded, understanding his point. If you were ever going to stand against the best students in the Sports Festival, hell, if you were going to stand against villains you needed to get better with your quirk.

"Can I go again then?" Your eyes were full of a new fire. Aizawa grinned.

***

"Where the fuck have you been?" Bakugou pried when you entered his room that evening. You were exhausted. You had used your quirk for over an hour straight and the aftereffects were getting to you. You developed a persistent cough from taking in so much smoke and the tips of your fingers were raw from constant ignition.

But you had learned a lot during your session with Aizawa and Shinsou. You had learned to add more momentum behind your pulls, and you could better read when to aim for the neck, torso, knees or ankles depending on the opponent's stance. Shinsou hadn't tried to fend off any of your moves, just allowing himself to be captured. Aizawa said that binding a moving foe would be the next step. You were excited to improve.

"Training." You let out a little cough.

"What do you mean training? You train with me Ashtray." His eyebrows knit together at your seemingly stupid answer.

"Who says I only train with you?" you said casually, taking out your homework and sitting on his bed. "How am I ever going to beat you in the Sports Festival if you know all my strategies?"

"GET THE FUCK OFF MY BED! YOU DON'T GET TO KEEP SECRETS AND THEN GET A COMFY SEAT," he huffed. You continued to sit, even going so far as to wiggle slightly to make yourself even more comfortable.

"I think I'm good right here." You smirked at him. He didn't kick you off again but kept a moody pout on his lips as he went back to his work. "Do you feel ready for the Sports Festival?" you asked after a long pause.

He took a few seconds before answering in a low, almost pained tone, "I could train harder. I could push more..." He seemed to really contemplate his ability for a rare moment, before countering with, "But I'm still way better than any of you! So of course I'm ready! I'm gonna win!" He grinned, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

You sighed. Why couldn't he shed that hubris for one day? He had almost seemed to be getting comfortable with you. Why still put on this act?

"You know, you can tell me if you're nervous," you responded to his ego with a soft, understanding voice. He seemed almost taken aback at your offer.

"Tsk. Why would I be nervous?" His voice wasn't as confident as before, a small crack in the armor.

"Because you're the current champion and you don't want to drop lower? Because you have borderline unhealthy rivalries with just about everyone in this school? I don't know. Because you put all this pressure on yourself to be the best?" The words came out in a rush. Too real. Too honest.

Bakugou's eyes grew wide. He opened his mouth, but before he got a word out you added, "You don't need to put on this brave face for me. Your battle instincts are insane. You train harder than anyone I've ever met. And aside from how you keep everyone at arm's length, I know you actually give a shit about people. You don't have to prove anything to me. You don't have to be scared you're not enough. I already know you're going to be an amazing hero." You watched as Bakugou's brows knit together, a scowl forming on his lips.

"Forget it." You rose from the bed, grabbing your books. You didn't want to be screamed at. You didn't feel like watching his superiority inferiority complex destroy him right now. How could someone so strong be so broken? You opened his door and took a step.

"You really think that about me?" Your hand still on the knob you turned around. He refused to make eye contact. You stepped back inside and closed the door. Not allowing yourself to go back to the bed you hovered near the exit.

"I saw your room...at your parent's house." At this he snapped his head up, a look of rage and embarrassment crossing his features. You continued, "Everything about it screamed hero. You surrounded yourself with it, but you don't believe it? Why?"

Bakugou didn't answer for a long moment. His gaze was focused on his hands in his lap. You watched him take several deep breaths before replying, "I used to. I used to think I could do anything. But then I was captured." A hostage. You took a step closer.

"I had to be saved. I was too weak. I've been doing everything I can think to get stronger. I've gotten so much better but...it's been nearly a year and I lie awake at night with these memories of feeling powerless and they haunt me. I try to think of a way I could have escaped without needing to be rescued. Without All Might..." His voice cracked.

Without hesitation you sat on the bed next to him. You placed a delicate hand on his knee, wishing you could do more to show your compassion, to show how deeply you understood. He didn't fight it. He didn't push you away.

"I know." You dared to shift closer, pressing your side to his and resting your head softly on this shoulder. You felt the weight on his head rest atop your own and heard a faint sniffle.

Tell him.

I can't.

TELL HIM.

I... can't...

Coward.