Chapter Text
The energy of Bakugou’s classmates rolls off of his shoulders like thunderous waves, ebbing and flowing, building and crashing. The scouts scrutinize them from their perch in the stands, nothing more than miniscule dots dressed in snobby suits and slimming business dresses.
Today is recruitment day.
Bakugou’s mind is focused, his palms glistening in anticipation beneath his gloves. His stomach turns with adrenaline and nerves, but he’ll always claim it’s more the former than the latter. He can’t fuck this up. He won’t. His entire time spent at U.A. could boil down to this very moment.
As Bakugou and his peers line up for their challenge—an obstacle course, followed by a combat trial—his eyes flicker involuntarily to the stands. He isn’t sure what he’s looking for, but he answers his own question when he spots a familiar tuft of chestnut hair and chubby cheeks.
Uraraka came to watch him.
Bakugou’s neck flames furiously. No, she came to watch our class, you fucking moron. Gods, who knew his own thoughts could embarrass him?
Uraraka’s eyes scan the arena, and she waves to Ashido and Deku as they catch her eye. Bakugou wonders if she’ll look his way, but that would mean he’d probably have to wave, or jump, or do some other humiliating shit to get her attention, which he won’t. He’s above that. Obviously.
He turns away, mild disappointment accompanying the twisting of anticipation in his gut, when a voice rings out across the area.
“Do your best, Bakugooooou!”
The burning on Bakugou’s neck amplifies, but it’s a different kind of red. As he lunges into a starting position, his classmates shooting curious glances his way, he’s caught between feeling embarrassed beyond all belief and feeling like he’s on top of the world.
“On your mark!” the announcer shouts.
Bakugou bends forward.
“Get set!”
And he grins madly.
“Go!”
At once he’s propelled forward with two powerful explosions, soaring past most of his classmates. He can feel the cool sting of Todoroki’s ice to his left, followed by the familiar wave of Deku’s One for All. He already knew he’d have to watch out for these two, but he’s not gonna let those bastards phase him.
The obstacle course, in a way, feels easy. But why shouldn’t it? Bakugou has been running himself ragged, drilling this very course into his system. Every turn and obstacle bends to his will, but even then, he can’t get cocky. He’s not about to slip up just because of a big head.
He finishes second, after Deku, but he tries not to let it get to him, even though it’s fucking annoying. Then again, this was only the first part of the challenge. The second will be more interesting.
They’re to pair off with one of their peers, anyone from their year. Kirishima had already asked him to link up prior to today, but the blond had laid it out straight for his friend. Bakugou is playing to win, and the best way to beat Kirishima is to wear out his quirk without relying on his own—much like their spar back in their First Sports Festival.
The point is, it would be a shit match for the both of them. They wouldn’t be able to show off their quirks to their full potential, and that’s the whole idea.
So Bakugou has to pick his opponent carefully.
Much to his annoyance, most of his classmates seem to be avoiding him. He shouldn’t be surprised—he’s always ranked at the top of the class. Why would anyone go against an opponent they aren’t sure they can beat?
But Bakugou isn’t for that weak shit. He knows these scouts are looking for more than just a win. They want to see initiative, drive, the acknowledgement that every battle they face may not land them with an advantage. If Bakugou wants to fit that bill, then he needs to go against someone to whom he could actually lose.
“Bakugou. Do you have a partner yet?”
Bakugou straightens, and then faces his challenger with a smirk.
---
Maybe a couple of weeks ago a spar with Todoroki would have been filled with acidic tension, but today there is only exuberant anticipation. A swift look of understanding passes between the two rivals as they take their places on either end of the arena. Bakugou hasn’t properly sparred with Todoroki ever—no, he doesn’t count their First Sports Festival. This is it.
“Contestants, prepare yourselves,” the announcer's voice echoes throughout the arena, and it’s strange having someone besides Present Mic sportscast. “On my signal…”
Bakugou clenches and unclenches his fists, bending forward.
“Ready-”
He locks eyes with Todoroki.
“Begin!”
The fire and ice quirk user moves instantly, a gigantic wall of ice shooting straight down the middle of the arena. Bakugou smirks, rocketing over the attack and flipping through the air. The bastard always was too reliant on big lumbering attacks.
The blond lands right in front of Todoroki, throwing out a palm and shooting his quirk at him in an explosion of yellow and orange. The other boy jerks to the side with another blast of ice, easily evading his attack.
Bakugou barely has time to turn before he feels the heat by his shoulder blades, and he knows Todoroki has activated his left side. Good. His rival is going all out, as he should be.
Feeling the flicker of flames up his back, Bakugou digs his heels and spreads his palms out, firing off another explosion and soaring just over the ground, his knees barely scraping the dirt beneath him. He’s forced to roll messily, giving Todoroki the opportunity to advance.
Bakugou grins.
As his rival’s ice shoots out in two different directions with the intention to incapacitate him, Bakugou arcs his arms in a half-circle, dispelling the transparent barriers on all sides.
“Come on, Icy-hot!” he goads, feeling the heat of battle and a pair of brown eyes watching him from the stands. “That all you got?!”
“Not even close,” Todoroki responds, creating his own wall of fire.
The flames from his left side are almost unbearably intense—the constant wave of heat is vastly different from Bakuogu’s sudden and intense eruptions. The temperature is almost enough to distract him, but not quite. Knowing he’ll have an advantage in the air, Bakugou shoots to the sky, and Todoroki has no option but to follow him.
Keeping himself airborne takes effort, but Bakugou knows he can wear his rival out the longer he stays in the skies. Todoroki can gain height only by the use of his ice, and already the effort has caused a deep frost to appear on his skin. Bakugou knows his classmate has always struggled using both of his quirks at the same time, so if he can catch him in limbo, the match will be his.
Bakugou rockets through the air as Todoroki climbs his own ice. The blond knows if he touches his rival's quirk it’s over. The sneaky bastard can catch him around the arm or the leg with his ice if he’s careless. But he’s not going to let that happen.
Waiting until the other boy gets into closer range, Bakugou fires off an explosion with one palm, effectivally lurching him to the side. Todoroki tails him closely, but he can’t turn as fluidly, not when he has to rely on the power of his ice for most of his mobility. When he’s mid-turn, Bakugou detonates an explosion that clips his leg, knocking him off his precipice.
Bakugou lands on his feet on the arena below, ignoring the shooting pain up his legs. He’ll deal with that later. Todoroki barely catches himself with another barrier of ice, but Bakugou is relying on that fumble. Creating two more explosions, he shatters the ice parachute beneath his opponent, and Todoroki rolls into the dirt.
Springing forward with a ferocious war cry, Bakugou approaches his target at an alarming speed, preparing to deliver the final blow. If Todoroki isn’t at his limit yet, he’s sure to be close.
Unfortunately, Bakugou underestimates his rival’s stamina when it comes to his fire quirk, and another wall of defensive flame soars to meet him. The blond cringes as the inferno licks past the left side of his face, singing his ear and burning his hair.
Instead of instinctually batting at his own face, Bakugou rolls across the dirt arena once, using his momentum to evade Todoroki’s next attack, while also quelling the fire that’s managed to catch onto his costume.
Todoroki advances again, slower this time, and using far less of his ice than before. Bakugou purposefully stalls for a moment, subtly bringing a palm behind him in preparation for his next offensive move. He waits until the last moment, until he can feel the familiar burn of his rival’s quirk again, and then he takes to the air one final time.
As he turns into a forward flip, Todoroki instinctively looks up—a fatal move. Bakugou uses his direct attention to create a smoke screen, blinding the other boy before he can retaliate. Using his opponent’s nullified senses, Bakugou’s hand finds the pin of his grenade gauntlet, and as soon as he pulls it loose, he knows he’s won.
Todoroki is hit square in the back, tumbling forward to the edge of the ring. He tries one last time to catch himself with his own ice, but the weakened spray more or less slides him out of bounds instead of deterring his path. He lands roughly just outside the combat zone, dazed for half a second, before realization washes over him.
Bakugou stands in the center of the ring, smirking confidently, his chest swelling with pride. He won. He really won. On his terms.
He can hear the loud murmurs of his peers off to the sidelines, can see the recruiters typing in their tablets. Bakugou has half a mind to just turn around and walk back to his seat, but something gives him pause. At the last moment, he decides to cross the arena, just as Todoroki is rising on his own.
The two rivals stand before each other, and another look passes between them. Bakugou notices how the space has become silent, almost tense as their classmates wait for what must be an inevitable confrontation. But as the two boys pass each other, the thick cloud of tension that had followed them throughout most of the year feels different. Not necessarily lighter, but different.
Bakugou stalls by Todoroki’s side, both of them facing opposite directions. “You shouldn’t get cocky with your ice in the beginning. You don’t stand a chance endurance wise.”
Todoroki lifts his chin in acknowledgement. “And you—work on your landings. Your explosions can only carry you so far without your body bearing the brunt of your quirk. It leaves you wide open.”
Bakugou grunts. “Right.”
And that’s all that needs to be said.
As Bakugou exits the arena, his eyes glide over the scouts, his classmates, his teachers, and finally to the peanut gallery in the stands. And, if he strains his ears just enough, he can hear the muffled clapping of two clothed hands.
---
A week and a half later, Bakugou receives a call.
“Hey, kid. Don’t think we’ve ever chatted before.”
He recognizes the voice right away. It’s hard not to be familiar with the smooth cadence, the casual cockiness, the pretty boy attitude. And also, the voice belonging to the current ranked Number Two Hero is difficult to mistake.
“Wanted to call you myself,” Hawks says, while Bakugou sits in his bed, unsuspectingly. “Agency scouts wouldn’t shut up about you the other week. Wish I could have seen it myself.”
“You gonna give me an offer?” Bakugou asks bluntly, never one to beat around the bush.
Hawks chuckles on the other side. “They mentioned you were one to cut right through the bullcrap. Yeah, kid. I’m giving you an offer. Think you can handle it?”
“Tch. Are you serious?”
Bakugou pictures Hawks shrugging on the other end of the line, maybe giving his feathers a good ruffle. “Hell yeah. But I gotta warn you, you might not like my style. I respect your guts, but if you’re going to be a sidekick, my sidekick, you’ve got to play by my rules. Think you can handle that?”
Bakugou grits his teeth. He hates this guy’s cockiness, but he’s always known he’d have to take a couple of blows to his pride to surpass everyone. Maybe at fifteen that would have been an issue, but not anymore. Even if he has to do the grunt work for a while, whatever. He’ll do what he needs to do.
He can be that type of hero too.
Bakugou lifts his chin. “Name a time and place.”
---
Bakugou keeps his agency offer to himself, although he makes a few exceptions.
Kirishima finds out on his own, naturally, through telepathy or ‘a bro’s intuition,’ Bakugou doesn’t know. The blond tells Aizawa and All Might when they inquire about it, because he owes them the truth. They’ve done more for him than he’s comfortable admitting out loud.
And the fourth exception will be Uraraka, who he feels he also owes the truth. She just about threatened him to do his best during recruitment, so he guesses she’d probably want to hear about his accomplishment.
Finding her is more difficult than he expects though. Whenever he wanders in the general direction of her room, she doesn’t appear to be home. What’s more, their regular therapy sessions have been cut short for her upcoming physical examinations and doctor’s appointments. It’s fine. He doesn’t care. But it’s annoying that he can’t just tell her one simple thing.
He still doesn’t have her number, which doesn’t help. But he feels like this type of news is the kind you tell in person anyway.
Another week passes of them missing each other, but by then final examinations are in full swing, and Bakugou doesn’t spend much time outside of his room or the gym. Toning his body and mind are of top priority right now. It doesn’t matter if he already has an offer; if anything that means he has to work even harder. Can’t have Deku or Icy-Hot showing him up after all.
He’s on his way back from the gym one late afternoon, just as the sun is setting. His workout was a lighter one today, mainly cardio, but regardless he had worked up a decent sweat. Bakugou runs a hand through his freshly showered hair, scowling to himself. He should have remembered to bring his comb with him. Now he just has to let the muggy late spring air dry it for him.
The walk back to the dorms is relatively quiet, save for the distant chirping of birds and the pad of his sneakers against the sidewalk. The setting sun coats one side of his face, but it’s not quite enough for him to turn away. It’s strange—how many more times will he get to walk through this campus? Bakugou isn’t the type to get sentimental, but it’s hard not to think thoughts like that when the end is so near.
He’s so wrapped up in his musings, that he doesn’t hear the approaching uneven footsteps until they’re practically right behind him. Before Bakugou can chastise himself for letting his guard down, the palm of a hand smacks him firmly in the center of his back, and then he’s flying.
No, not flying. Floating.
“THE FUUUUUUCK??!!!” Bakugou screeches as his body does a lazy somersault in the orange sky, bobbing higher and higher, slowly but steadily. When he rightens himself—upside down, mind you—he comes face to face with the biggest browns and the chubbiest cheeks he’s ever known.
“Hi, Bakugou!” Upside-down Uraraka exclaims, shooting him a stupidly big smile. “Nice to see I could lift your spirits!”
“Hah?! You been talking to Pikachu or some shit?!”
“Yeah, he told me if I ever got my quirk back that that needs to be the first thing I say to you.”
Her words seem to launch Bakugou back into reality, and he suddenly realizes the gravity of this moment—no pun intended. As he slowly rotates right-side up again, his clarity returns.
“Uraraka...you’re doing it,” he tells her, not sure what else to say.
Uraraka blushes. “I’m sorry I’ve been so M.I.A. recently. I’ve been working really hard, and I wanted to surprise you. And then when Kirishima accidentally told me you got accepted into Hawks’ agency, I just had to find you.”
“Y-You walked here by yourself?” Bakugou manages, not sure why he’s stuttering like a damn fool.
Uraraka nods below them, and he notices the walker on the sidewalk. “I wouldn’t say all by myself. But I’m getting there.” She shoots him a grin. “But really though, congratulations, Bakugou. I knew you could do it.”
Bakugou feels his face heat, and he looks off to the side briefly. “Tch. It was nothing.” But then his bashfulness fades when something else occurs to him. “But you…”
He can’t find the words to say, which again, is a rarity. He feels her take his hand once more, but this time the scratchiness of her mitten is absent.
“I’m going to continue my therapy into next year,” Uraraka explains, the corner of her mouth lifting upwards. “The doctors say I have a good chance of making a full recovery. And now that my quirk’s back, they’re even more optimistic.” Her smile widens. “I’m going to be a hero, Bakugou. You can bet on it! So don’t get too cocky; I’ll sneak up on you before you know it!”
Bakugou scoffs, but before he knows it, his eyes are squeezed shut, and he can feel the burning just behind his lids. He ducks his head, tensing the muscles of his face impossibly tight, trying in vain to fight this lapse in emotion.
He feels two arms come around him then, and the warm softness of the embrace is especially prevalent when he’s floating in nothingness. Uraraka’s forehead accidentally bonks against his, and they both mutter a tiny ‘ow,’ before she bursts into quiet giggles.
“Idiot,” he murmurs, wrapping both of his hands around her upper arms, but not pushing her back. “If you think I’m not gonna be on your ass every step of the way, then you’re even dumber than your cheeks make you look.”
Uraraka giggles again, her breath ruffling the bangs on his face. Her arms squeeze tighter around his torso, and Bakugou abandons his grip on her arms to return the gesture, just so he can show her that he can squeeze tighter.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
A few months ago, if Bakugou had received a ‘thank you’ from Uraraka, he’s entirely sure his guilt would have eaten him from the inside out. He would have screamed at her, demanded she take back her stupid words, that he doesn’t want them, that he doesn’t deserve them. He still doesn’t, but he hears it for what it is now.
Forgiveness is a tricky, stupid thing. For some people, Bakugou guesses, it happens quickly, for others, not so much. If he were in Uraraka’s position, he doesn’t know if he would be able to. Hell, it’s taken him this long now to finally...to finally start to do it himself.
“You’re welcome.”
Bakugou digs his forehead into her shoulder, for he knows the nausea he feels in his stomach today has nothing to do with his feelings, and everything to do with Uraraka’s quirk.
She’s still got a long way to go, yeah, and he does too. But after everything they’ve been through together this year, Bakugou discovers this impossible task ahead of them has become slightly less impossible. And as her arms tighten around him, maybe, just maybe, something else can come from it too.
He grins into Uraraka’s shoulder. Lelyah—that old bat. She was right.
It’s a start.