Vigilante: Deku Means Useless

Goodnight Shinso

"Katsuki,' his dad sighed as he rubbed his face, his glasses made a clicking sound when they got pushed up. "Your mother and I decided..." he glanced warily at his wife, who was sitting next to him with her arms and legs crossed. She wore an unreadable expression, and Katsuki shifted uncomfortably on the couch across from them. One minute he had come home from U.A.'s entrance exam and the next he was sat down at the couch all sweaty and sticky, whatever they wanted to talk to him about better be worth it!

"We decided to get you a therapist." his mom finished his dad's sentence for him. "We know your school solved the whole fist fight thing, but you shouldn't have been getting into them in the first place. Your school councilor suggested getting therapy might be a good solution, along with monthly check ups with him." Katsuki decided they must be playing some prank on him. Hah, hah, very funny. He watched them blankly at them for a moment, waiting for the inevitable moment where his dad burst out laughing and his mom ruffled his hair and told him how dumb he was for actually falling for it.

Two minutes passed. And then another. Katsuki's mother never let go of his gaze, staring equally as deadpanned right back at him. His dad looked like he'd rather be hit by a car than be in the room any longer. They couldn't actually be serious, right? They couldn't be. They wanted him to talk about his feelings? Just because he punched some shitty guy? Who, in Katsuki's very humble opinion, had it coming?

"No way." Katsuki scoffed and rolled his eyes, finally speaking up. He could see the visible relaxation in his dad's face when he finally broke the silence. "You wan't me to go to a doctor just because I got into one fight at school?" his grip on his arms (when had he crossed them?) tightened. 

"This isn't just about you getting into fights, Kat." his dad said, his eyes glistening with the familiar look of worry he always wore. "With the villain attack and you possibly going to a hero school well... traumatic things happen in that industry, bud. And with your..." his dad paused while looking for a good word.

"Anger issues." his mom supplied. Katsuki twitched.

"Anger issues, I think that it could be beneficial." Katsuki frowned. Trauma? Anger issues? Katsuki didn't have those! Sure, he couldn't keep his annoyance with people hidden very well, but that was all it was, annoyance. Katsuki knew his emotions like the back of his hand, and none of them were anger, and none of them had issues. He didn't need some shitty old dude wearing a cardigan sweater and smelt like old cheese to tell him that. Or to tell him things that he had just pulled out of his ass. Katsuki bit his cheek but stayed quiet. His dad sighed. His mom stared at him. She looked more mad if anything.

But then again, she did have a resting bitch face. If anyone has anger issues, its her. Katsuki thought. "I don't need therapy, and what's this shit about 'possibly'? I'm defiantly going to be a hero, old man." was all Katsuki decided to say before he stood up and stomped his way towards the stairs. 

"Katsuki Bakugo." his mom stood up, and he stopped to turn around and glare at her. "I didn't think the whole therapy thing was necessary either, but your father has a point. A few, actually." Katsuki felt the familiar annoyance in the back of his mind burn. "You're going to be a hero one day and no one here doubts that. And no matter what, we'll be proud of you," Katsuki clicked his teeth and looked away. Of course they were going to be proud of him, they were his parents! His mom glanced at his father before continuing. "But there are going to be things, dangerous things, out in the world and thats only going to increase when you become a hero." she took a step towards him and put a hand on his shoulder, it took every cell in his body not to shove it off.

"But I-"

"Don't need therapy, we got that." she interrupted. "How about you go for a bit and if it doesn't seem to be making a difference then we'll take you out. Sound good?" Katsuki glared at the floor and said nothing. "We'll tell the councilor you don't need the checkups with him, how about that?" he looked up at her. Her eyes looked pained and pleading. He felt his chest tighten. His mom actually asking for something, genuinely asking, was something he'd rarely actually gotten to see. The first time Katsuki could remember was his grandpa's funeral. Mom's side. Katsuki, as Katsuki's nature, had been a little brat. Shouting and screaming at anyone who got near. He barely remembered the funeral, but he sure as hell did remember the hurt of loosing someone he admired. He had never been close to the old geezer, but he'd always sneak Katsuki an extra scoop of ice cream for desert when his mom wasn't looking. Katsuki was pretty sure she knew and didn't say anything. But the one thing he did remember so clearly was his mom quietly putting her hand on his shoulder, just like she was now. He nodded, despite his body screaming at him not to.