Bakugou Angst Stories

Weighing Grudges 005

Baby face: Nirengeki Shoda

Slanted Eyes: Neito Monoma

Fuse fuck: Yosetsu Awase

Steely/Steel Face: Testutestsu Tetsutetsu

Sometimes after the memory scans, depending on what day, they'd have training right after. Where the two classes would slip into two, burly lines of people, streaming out to the first year training rooms. Passing through and chatting, the teachers leading at the front.

Today was one of those days, and Katsuki found himself situated between two people on highly different spectrums of personality. IcyHot, who was lacking personality, and Slanted Eyes, who had plenty enough to get him decked. They both seem to be watching him, from a distance, and no matter how much Katsuki speeds himself up from their silent chase, they're right behind him.

Rambunctious chatter with words that can't be picked up surrounds him, just as IcyHot takes a forward step, Slanted eyes glancing at him with the look of challenge, ready to practically lunge beside a speeding Katsuki— Sparky blocks his way, chaining Katsuki's arm in his tightly, obliging Katsuki to him. 'Hey!'

Either Sparky is more attentive than he looks and pulled Katsuki from whatever those odd two had to give him, or he's just a dolt. Whatever, Katsuki hopes it's the latter. He didn't need his interference, 'Fuck off! LET GO OF ME!'

Listening but very little, Sparky slows down to stay around Katsuki. Neither sparing IcyHot or Slanted Eyes a glance, if Sparky does that on purpose or not, Katsuki can't quite tell. There's something a little cryptic about him now, not knowing if that was Sparky's intent just infuriates him even more. But there's a very locked part of him that's the teeniest bit grateful.

'Try not to knuckle any of Class 1-B this time,' IcyHot says as he passes him in the change room, Katsuki sends him the dirtiest look but at that point it's just directed to the back of his moving head. Katsuki still hopes he felt it. Idiot, who gave him the right for snark anyways? Clicking his tongue and returning back to his hero uniform. There's one grace of this, and that is the fact Class 1-B stays in their little corner when changing. Not even sparing any of Class 1-A a glance except a few select few.

Like Steely and Hairy, idiotic morons talking happily about vapid shit that doesn't even have relations to heroics.

Or weird enough, baby fat and Speedy... hey, when did that happen? Katsuki blinks, he's foolishly annoyed, and gritting his teeth thoughtlessly by the time he's facing his limp hero costume for the fifth time. Why is his focus roping to everything he can find? It takes everything for him not to turn his head to watch Shitty Hair for whatever he must be laughing at, so instead he closes his eyes, placing his hands on where he knows his hero costume will be, and begins to change.

Focus in pitch black is easy, it's just the noises that make it hard. The feeling reminds him of Plain Face's reason, which he had watched not more than an hour ago. Goddamnit, it's not that that's setting him on edge, is it? That? Really? Just because he feels a little connection to it? He should have already burnt that mental bridge by now. One of Katsuki's greatest gifts is burning bridges after all.

An image of Deku pops into his head, as though pesky mental electrons built an even peskier bridge. It's when he realizes all he's been doing is holding his hero suit, the changerooms near emptied out. He looks down, hating this sudden lack of focus, so he tries to look at the design. He does just that until he hears the door close, pushing him out of his thoughts.

And he's the only one here. Not a Class 1-B student in sight, or a Class 1-A student. The silence is serene, peaceful beyond relief but ushers him with the panic of being late to class. Katsuki, despite his very attitude, isn't tardy. He slips on the hero costume with less problem, maybe everybody else was the issue.

Whatever.

It's morning. Class. And Katsuki's on time, but barely. Weird for him, who's usually very punctual but he kept on repeating that annoying problem that started in the changerooms. His thoughts all receding back to the mind scans unwillingly. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them, just as he takes steps into 1-A— what the fuck.

Then the bell rings, and students disperse. But it's not just to their desks, it's out the class as well. Their first period is definitely homeroom, but there are some people who have definitely decided to move homes. One shoulder checked him on the way out, and he's never been so fast to whip his head around. Expecting slanted eyes on the other side, but all he saw was the back of lopsided, jagged hair, all tied in by a sweaty hairband.

Katsuki is going to kill Fuse fuck one of these days. All he can do is laser his eyes into the back of his soon gone head, slipping away from the door and down the hall away from Katsuki's view. Katsuki considers chasing after him and shoulder checking him so hard he collapses, but decides against it. Stiffly moving to his seat, which had luckily, remained free. Why were Class 1-B students in Class 1-A?

They didn't fucking belong here, and nobody seemed to care. Bitterly, Katsuki clicks his tongue, and as though on the wrong command, Shitty Hair comes leaping to his desk like a mindless dog. Looking at Katsuki with the widest of smiles and, 'Class 1-B isn't so bad! I thought Tetsu and Kendo were the only cool ones but I was wrong.'

Katsuki cringes, closing his eyes and hoping maybe he just imagined Shitty Hair saying that.

He didn't.

'Ya know Fukidashi?' No, no, don't talk about that fucking otaku, 'so good! He has CDs of like all the best animes, he's a collector. You know how rare CDs are nowadays? So antique.'

Then as though hesitating but pulling through a thick, obstacle of mud, 'He actually offered to show me it. Inside his dorm... he didn't bring everything to U.A though, but he brought a good chunk.'

Katsuki scoffs, 'Idiot.'

'I agreed, to check it out,' Shitty Hair says so causally you know he's just panicking. Katsuki flashes his eyes on him, furrowing his brows, and scowling. Quickly facing his desk so it doesn't read off as the jealousy he denies that it is. 'Wanna... come? I said I might be able to convince you and what not...'

'The fuck did you tell him?' Katsuki's voice is hot and hushed, he feels something creep to his cheeks before he can even help it. It's anger and a prescient shame.

'Nothing man...' Shitty Hair says, leaning in close to the desk secretively, furtively pulling his lips to Katsuki's ear, 'I didn't tell him you liked mangas too. Don't worry.'

He feels his shoulders sag, Katsuki's frown takes to neutral. He can feel Shitty Hair's smile radiating on his face, and it makes him sick beyond belief. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Sparky appears out of nowhere, bursting like a Christmas star, 'HEYA BROS!'

'WHAT THE FUCK—'

Words: 1215