Heroes, Vigilantes, and Villains

Chapter twenty-one

Izuku POV

The sun shone down relentlessly as I waited outside of the UA gate, tapping my foot sharply against the sidewalk as I watched examinees slowly walk through. Some of them shot me strange glances as they left the exam, but most of them pained me no mind at all, too consumed with their own lives to notice anyone else. I was content to just glare back at each of them as they looked at me. It was much too early and the sun much too bright for me to have to be dealing with more than one hormonal teenager at the moment.

Looking down at my phone, I scrolled through an article on the latest in quirk technology and support studies. The subject was something that I had been getting into since that day on the roof. Honestly the intricacies behind support gear really was more fascinating than hero work in most ways, though even as I read the third article on coding, it still felt like some kind of cheap replacement for the original dream that I had.

"Deku...?" The voice was soft with surprise, but there was a harsh undertone there that I knew well enough to immediately set my nerves on edge. I had to force my body to not shift into a fighting stance as my head snapped up to look at the newest arrival.

Fiery red eyes met a set of cold emeralds. "... Bakugo." My voice was a harsh monotone that betrayed none of the fear gripping fiercely at my heart.

The other boy's eyes went wide for a moment at the way that I called him, but he recovered quickly. "What the hell are you doing here, you shitty nerd!?" The teen barked out, the fire in his red lights igniting into a full blaze. "You change schools suddenly without saying a word, and now I found you here outside of the UA entrance exam..." The boy continued to rant and scream at me as he always had, I stopped listening as small sparks made themselves known in the other teen's palm. My body instinctively took a step back so as to create distance between me and the snarling boy and I didn't try to control the reaction.

However, my fear didn't stop my mouth from running wild.

"In case you haven't noticed," I said, cutting the taller boy off mid rant, "I don't owe you a damn thing, Bakugo." The boy's lips curled cruelly at my words as if he was about to refute them with his fist. "I stopped owing you anything the day that this happened," I snarled, my normally monotone voice laced with enough anger that it almost seemed palatable.

My fingers coasted up to my throat and the thick choker that was lining it, resting there. The blond's red eyes snapped down to the new accessory, but he and I both knew that it wasn't what I was talking about. We both knew about the damage just barely hidden beneath it. The older teen shrunk back from me as if I had been the one to burn him and not the other way around.

"I never owed you a thing at all," I decided, my words defiant even as it felt like cold hands were gripping at my throat, choking me as I tried to speak.

My body felt light as I finally voiced the words that had been lodged in my throat for almost a year now. I thought that I might have said more, but someone else joined our little duo, pushing himself past the angry blond and taking a place at my side.

"Hey Izu," the purple haired teen greeted, making sure to keep a careful distance between us even as we stood closely to one another. The other boy knew well enough my troubles with touch, and was always good about accommodating that even when it wasn't strictly bad enough to need it at that moment.

"Hito," I greeted, silently thankful for the space between us. Even though telling Bakugo off was therapeutic in its own way, I didn't know how I would have responded had the other boy tried to touch me, rather it would have been violent or I would have just flinched away. I didn't really care to find out either way.

"Who the hell is this?" Bakugo asked, but neither of us paid him enough mind to give a true answer.

The purple haired boy glanced at the smaller blond one before turning so that his shoulder was to Bakugo, and motioned for me to do the same, cutting the foul teen out of the conversation all together. "Your place or mine?" He asked, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "Scratch that, let's do mine," he decided. "I think Mom might start missing you joker than she likes me if you don't come around at some point soon."