The importance of being Bakugou

[danzanelfuoco]

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: BakuDeku

Rating: Safe

Challenge: COW-T, w4, m4

Prompt: Come on now, you knew you were lost, but you carried on anyway

Wordcount: 3910 parole

Kirishima hadn’t thought it through when he had picked up the stack of papers from the bin. 

It was just that he was curious. 

Usually, Bakugou was so minimal in his waste that his bag lasted him two weeks. And now a whole stack of paper, printed, in Times New Roman, 12. 

The thing was: Kirishima knew what that was about. 

The school festival was approaching and again this year class 2-A and 2-B would need to do their part. They had thought about resurrecting last year rock band, but the idea had been vetoed by the teachers on the note that it was a lazy idea and they would need a little more effort to gain a better mark - yes, had glared at them Aizawa sensei, it would be evaluated in the final grade. 

So they had decided to stage a play. 

What play, though, it was still to decide. 

Present Mic had suggested they write their own, but so far the results were less than impressing. 

Aside from Mineta’s not safe for work erotica script - that cost him a detention with Midnight and a lecture on sexual harassment and the lack of appropriateness of certain behaviors - Momo had wrote some obscure piece of noh, Kaminari had just taken a Shakespeare comedy and changed all the names and Midoriya, cheeks red as a traffic light, had thrust into Present Mic’s hands a script so full of corrections and erasures it was difficult to figure out even the names of the protagonists. 

“And I don’t think a tragedy where everyone kills themselves at the end it’s appropriate either,” the teacher had said giving the script back to Tokoyami, proceeding then to ask if someone else wanted to submit their work. 

Between the “not yet, I need to add more glitter” that Aoyama said and the “I’m still working on it, it needs to be perfect” from Iida, Bakugou, had snarled that “this shit is stupid”, his hands sparkling from little explosions. 

So, Kirishima hadn’t expected him to actually write something.

And now this. 

If curiosity killed the cat, Eijiro was very willing to be turned to crisp.  

* * * 

 

Exterior, garden

 

IZUMI - change the fucking name! - sits on the floor, she is trying not to cry, 

 

She is alone, KATSUO - for fuck's sake, could you be more explicit? - reaches her, but he keeps his distance, hands awkwardly stuffed in his pocket. 

K: What are you even doing here?

I: (without looking up) What do you care? 

K: It’s not polite to answer a question with another question. 

I: You don’t deserve politeness. 

 

KATSUO sits down and slides closer, but not too much

 

IZUMI still keeps looking down

K: I know I don’t. I was a shit, an asshole - fuck, I can’t swear! - I hadn’t been the best of friends, but I care for you. 

I: (sarcastic) Oh, really? You care for me? 

 

KATSUO nods. 

I: Well, too bad you are incapable of showing it because for what I could see, you wouldn’t give a fuck care less if I died tonight. 

 

K: You are unfair - no, fuck, it’s fair. Change this line

K: You are right. That’s because I’m an idiot. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but…

 

K puts a hand on her shoulder, trying gently to make her turn to him and look him in the face.

I: (slapping his hand away) Don’t touch me. I just wanted to be your friend and you… You wouldn’t even acknowledge me as a person. 

K: I wish I could do something to show you, how sorry I am.

I: There’s nothing you could do, now.

K: I know. (to himself) Trust me, I know very well.  

* * * 

In the end, Kirishima was crying and laughing and mentally screeching because that thing was a piece of Bakugou’s heart and it was heartbreaking and moronic. Bakugou had written a tragedy, the story of an idiot who didn’t know how to be in love and lost the girl because of that, a bittersweet play that showed that sometimes you strain things so much they can’t be fixed, for even with the redemption arc where Katsuo made up to Izumi, helping her through her issues until she could reach her dream of becoming a doctor, showing that he actually cared with actions (since words were fleeting and he didn’t know how to use them - very untrue, considering how good was the script in front of him), in the end, he couldn’t win her back, and ultimately gave up every hope of being with her, letting her go and be happy with another man. 

Closing the script and hugging it to his chest, Kirishima allowed himself to think that Bakugou was a fucking idiot (yes, cursing, he deserved to do it after that emotional rollercoaster). 

Even if Eijiro could understand why Bakugou didn’t want to submit the paper - it was evidently about him and Midoriya and moreover, it wasn’t only personal, it was a love letter. A beautiful love letter, but somehow not the entire class business, - still, he didn’t think that script deserved to be thrown away. It was by far one of the best things Kirishima had ever read and with that, they would that the best mark ever. 

Well, it would need some corrections - a lot of corrections, the names, for starters - and the most important thing: Bakugou’s consent. 

Kirishima was sure he would never get it, even though Bakugou could only gain from the situation. How could Katsuki think he was too late with Midoriya when the poor boy was just waiting for an opening to be his friend again? 

Because Bakugou was an idiot, he reminded himself. 

And Kirishima was a good friend, so he would help him out. Even if it was suicidal. 

So he drew out his phone. 

Because he always did what he had to do, even if it meant his death.

Bakubro! 01:12

It was amazing! 01:12

I didn’t think you had it in you! 01:12

You truly are amazing! 01:12

 As Midoriya always says 01:12

 And speaking of him 01:13

You should definitely tell him 01:13

 I mean 01:13

He wouldn’t reject you 01:13

What you wrote is amazing, but untrue 01:13

He would never hate you, you know? 01:14

You know, right? 01:14

You can’t “not know” 01:14

Come on, Bakubro, ANSWER ME 01:16

How can you not know?!?!?! 01:16

How can you think he would really never forgive you! 01:17

Have you looked at him? 01:17

OMG 01:17

I’m shipping you two, now 01:18

Bakubro, I’m a fangirl! 01:18

It’s your fault. 01:18

What are you even talking about, shit for brain? 01:19

It’s fucking 1 a.m. 01:19

Why the fuck are you not sleeping? 01:19

Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night 01:20

Your fantastic screenplay! 01:20

Seriously Bakugou, hadn’t you read what I’ve just written to you. 01:20

I'M GONNA KILL YOU 01:21

WHY 01:21

THE FUCK 01:21

HAVE 01:21

YOU 01:22

 READ 01:22

 IT??? 01:22

IT WAS IN THE FUCKING BIN 01:22

I know 01:25

I shouldn’t have taken it 01:25

But, Bakugou! 01:25

It really IS amazing! 01:26

I DON’T GIVE A SHIT! 01:26

IT COULD BE AKUTAGAWA MATERIAL FOR WHAT I CARE 01:27

FUCK! 01:27

IF YOU SAY ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT YOU THINK YOU KNOW ABOUT ME AND FUCKING DEKU I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU 01:27

Kirishima actually thought about joking on his “fucking Deku” but reconsidered. He wasn’t Kaminari, after all, he still had some preservation sense. Not that much, though. 

You know I would never 01:27

I won’t tell anyone 01:28

But I still think YOU should talk to Midoriya. 01:28

No chance. 01:28

Fuck off 01:29

I thought so 01:29

Goodnight 01:30

As if. Needless to say, Bakugou didn’t sleep at all that night. 

Kirishima had foreseen the consequences, but still, he had had to do it. He needed Bakugou to know he knew. It was all part of the plan. 

Even if Bakugou hated him. 

And Bakugou hated him, for days, snarled at him and yelled at him - even if not so loud that other people would come asking what was happening, because Katsuki knew his classmates and knew how noisy they could be and was sure that if someone got the hunch that Bakugou had hidden something they would dig until they found out - but eventually, Bakugou forgave him. 

A thing that should have never happened, because Kirishima now thought he could freely talk to him about his crush and how idiotic Bakugou was for thinking he had screwed up with Midoriya so bad he would never forgive him. 

“What is this obsession of yours to see me with Deku, eh?” 

Kirishima placed a hand over his heart, theatrically offended. 

“I’m your friend! I want you to be happy! I’m not obsessed! Well, a little, but only because you refuse to acknowledge I’m right!” 

“Because you are not! Now leave me be, shit for brains!” 

And Kirishima did, relenting in his pressing, almost not bothering him anymore. 

He had a plan he needed to run, after all, and it could perfectly go on without Bakugou.

* * * 

“Oh my God, but it’s so sad!” Midoriya cried, tears falling copious down his cheeks. “Why did you had me read it! It’s really amazing, but… the ending! Why did you have them split apart?” 

Kirishima didn’t know if the piece was really that good or if Midoriya had felt - more or less subconsciously - the connection with Izumi enough to make him upset about the outcome of his not (yet) existent affair with Bakugou. 

“I thought it would be best that way, but now I’m not really convinced,” Eijiro lied, leaving Izuku in the dark about who had actually written the script, “that’s why I’ve asked your help! I think they just could end up together if only… I don’t know. I think the problem here is that I don’t know what Izumi should reply when Katsuo tells her that he wishes she’ll be happy with Satoru.”

Izuku bit his lips, considering, and started mumbling. 

“Izumi it’s out of character, she is in love with Katsuo and she feels rejected and abandoned, yes, and even if Katsuo realized too late he was in love with her so she wouldn’t just throw herself at him because she’s done being his doormat, that doesn’t mean she would outright reject him, especially since he has redeemed himself, showing her he actually cares about her, showing her what he’s willing to do for her and to give up for her…”

And, oh dear, Midoriya was crying again, a hint of despair in his tone - because he didn’t know this was written by Bakugou, he didn’t know the person he loved was as stuck as him, Kirishima realized. 

“I know! It’s not how I wanted to end it, either. Look, Midoriya, how would you change it? How would you react if, let’s just say, the person you loved went overboard to show you they’re sorry?”

He could see the pain in his big green eyes, and Kirishima had to convince himself this was all for the best. It was a little sorrow now so they could be happy lately. Or so he hoped because right now, he felt a little shitty and he wanted to spill it all out to Midoriya, how it was not him, but Bakugou who had written the script, how Bakugou was an idiot who didn’t know how to apologize… But Kirishima knew, that if he were to say something like that Izuku would throw himself at his friend, and Bakugou would reject him - he knew that, because when had Bakugou ever made things easy? He would just go on with his decade long denial. 

No, Bakugou had to see Eijiro was right, but from a safe viewpoint, one where he wasn’t exposed, one from where he could withdraw. 

So Kirishima braced himself and pretending everything was normal - pretending that Midoriya wasn’t about to crack his heart - he handed him a pencil. 

* * * 

 

Exterior, garden.

 

KATSUO is looking in the distance, at the audience. 

 

From offstage comes music and people chatting and waves of laughter. 

 

IZUMI enters from the right, behind KATSUO, who doesn’t notice her until she speaks. 

IZUMI: It must be lonely out here. 

KATSUO: Izumi… what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the party?

I: I was looking for you. 

K: Oh. You shouldn’t have. 

I: Maybe. I just wanted to check on you, since you left. 

K: Well, I didn’t want to spoil your party. It was kind of you to invite me, after… after all we went through. 

I: Katsuo… (scrolling her head) you organized it, of course, I would invite you.

K: How do you -?

I: Know it was you? I’m not stupid. 

K: (almost to himself, but high enough for Izumi to hear him) Never thought you were. 

I: I would have invited you anyway, you know that right? Even if you weren’t behind all this. I would have invited you. You are my friend. 

K: (smiling sadly) I don’t really think I deserve to be. 

 

They stay silent for some seconds, each one thinking. 

I: Why did you do all this? 

K: I did so much to screw you up… I really want you to be happy. 

I: I don’t know if I could be. 

K: I’ll be, I don’t think you should worry. You are where you wanted to be, and… Satoru looks very into you. 

I: (scoffing) You don’t know anything, do you? 

K: What? 

I: You are throwing me into his arms, but have you ever stopped to ask me what I want? 

K: But I though…

 I: Are you giving up? What was this, your final goodbye? Or did you just wanted to play with me? But this doesn’t make sense. If you wanted to screw me up again you would have done it in plain sight, you would have made sure I knew it was you who pulled the strings, who asked Doctor Kurosawa to take me as an internship, who helped me pay off the loan…

 

KATSUO looks surprised she knows but doesn’t say a word. 

I: But you didn’t. You didn’t want me to knew it was you, so it doesn’t make sense for you to pull back now. Why are you pulling back now? 

KATSUO looks away, sealing his mouth. 

I: Come on now (pleading), you knew you were lost, but you carried on anyway. So why are you pulling back now? 

K: Because I know I am lost. I know I could never, never, love me back. You should never. I’m not good for you, you’ll be happy with Satoru. Happier. He won’t hurt you as I did. 

I: You know nothing, nothing, about what I feel. Katsuki, I’ve loved you my whole life… 

K: (to himself) Loved. 

I: … and I love you still.

K: You do. 

I: I do. (smiling fondly) I love you. 

 

IZUMI offers him his hand. 

 

They stay like this a little, then KATSUO takes it. 

 

Offscreen music gets louder. 

 

Curtain falling. 

Kirishima looks at the happy ending on the pages in front of him. 

Yes, well, there were still some corrections to make - ah the Freudian slips, Midoriya had written a "Katsuki" instead of a "Katsuo" and still, Bakugou didn’t think Midoriya could ever forgive him. What a bunch of idiots, they were. 

Yes, just a few more corrections, then the next step of the plan. 

* * * 

AKIKO: Come on now (pleading), you knew you were lost, but you carried on anyway. So why are you pulling back now? 

YUKIO: Because I know I am lost. I know I could never, never, love me back. You should never. I’m not good for you, you’ll be happy with Satoru. Happier. He won’t hurt you as I did. 

A: You know nothing, nothing, about what I feel. Yukio, I’ve loved you my whole life… 

Y: (to himself) Loved. 

A: … and I love you still.

Y: You shouldn’t. 

A: But I do, anyway. I could never stop loving you. Would you reject me, again?

 Y: You don’t know what you’re asking for. 

A: I think I do. And you? Are you so scared of what could be? 

Y: (looking lost) Yes. 

A: Don’t be. I can be brave for both of us. 

 

AKIKO offers him his hand. 

Y: You already were. I can’t ask you more. 

A: You are not asking. I am offering it. 

 

They stay like this a little, then YUKIO takes it. 

Y: I’m not that selfless.

A: I wouldn’t want you to be. 

Y: I love you too. 

A: Then that’s enough. 

 

Offscreen music gets louder. 

 

Curtain falling. 

Aizawa put down the screenplay, cleared his throat - because that was a long reading to do out loud - and looked at his classroom. 

“This was anonymously submitted, and since the note attached to it said it was the joint work of three people, the mark will be shared with the whole class. Unless those three people want to make themselves known now.” 

Aizawa waited, but the class kept silent. Students were shifting in their seats, awkwardly looking at each other as if a neon light would appear over the head of said three people. 

No one talked, but Aizawa didn’t need them to. He saw Midoriya’s head snap up in Kirishima's direction, the guilty expression over Kirishima’s face as he pointedly looked at the blackboard, refusing to meet his gaze, and the death glare Bakugou had thrown at him before looking away, fuming. 

Ah, yes, here they were. 

But if they didn’t want the acknowledgment, Aizawa could respect that. He was an underground hero, after all. 

“No? Very well, then” the teacher nodded, ending the scrutiny. “This is the play we’re gonna stage. Objections?” 

There were none, even if Bakugou looked about to explode and Midoriya had reached the color of mature tomatoes. 

“Fine. Then we’re gonna talk about the logistic. I wanna hear your ideas.” 

“Aren’t there too few characters? I’ve counted ten, including background actors.”

 “Part of you will need to be staff and take care of the music, the scenography, and the props. It should be work enough for any of you.” 

“Can I take care of the music?” Asked Jirou. 

And then, before Aizawa could reply, Kirishima tried to kill himself. “I think Bakugou should play Yukio.” 

Katsuki stood up so abruptly, his chair fell over. His hands were contracted in fists, wisps of smoke trapped between his fingers. 

“I. Don’t.” He growled. 

Aizawa flashed his eyes at Bakugou and his hands were suddenly normal. Sweating, but no longer explosive. 

“Sit down, Bakugou. The roles are gonna be assigned lately.” 

Bakugou sat. 

In the end, when everyone had done a tryout, Mina ended up being Akiko, Tokoyami as Yukio - “well, yes, he’s tormented enough that I can understand him, but are you sure, Yamada sensei?” “De-fi-ni-te-ly!” - and Iida would be Satoru. 

Bakugou, Midoriya, and Kirishima were staff and for that Aizawa thanked every god in every pantheon ever existed. 

* * * 

Bakugou seized Kirishima's arm and dragged him in an empty classroom as soon as the bell rang. 

“Explain.” 

A single word gritted between his teeth. 

Kirishima would have expected anger and explosions, but this… this was so much more worrisome. 

“You know I’ve read your script, it was very good, I just couldn’t let you waste it.” 

“You… couldn’t?” Katsuki spat, gripping the collar of his shirt, menacingly. 

“I’ve adjusted it, it’s not so explicit as before, no one will recognize you or…” 

“Don’t say the name.” 

 “Fine! But it’s true. Your secret is safe, relax, no one will know you have a heart.” 

Katsuki let go of him, and then almost as an afterthought. “And who the fuck is this third person?!” 

“Relax, I said, they don’t know it was you who wrote this. They thought I did.” 

The lack of a direct answer bothered Bakugou more than tranquilized him. 

“Tell me you involved Pikachù. Or Pink Skin. Tell me.”

 Kirishima let out a strangled sound that sounded as if he didn’t want to answer and Bakugou grew more worried. 

“Who the fuck is the third person?” 

“I think that would be me.” 

Midoriya was standing in the doorframe. How much had he heard? 

It didn’t matter. 

The third person was Midoriya. 

Bakugou should have known. Of fucking course, who else?

It still hurt like a bitch. The betrayal. 

Kirishima had taken his script - his soul - to the only person he wanted to shield it from. 

Fuck. 

“You.” 

“Kacchan…” 

“No. I don’t wanna hear anything.” 

“Actually, I think you two should talk.”

“I don’t.” 

 “Stop running, Bakugou.”

Katsuki didn’t know what to reply, so he kept quiet, wordless, as Kirishima took from his backpack three envelops. 

“This is the first draft. Bakugou’s,” he put it on a desk, ignoring the surprised “oh” from Midoriya’s lip. Right, he didn’t know the base was not Kirishima’s. Eijiro could hear the gears turning in his head, analyzing every sentence and word, their meaning shifting under the different interpretation needed for a different author. 

“This is the second one, Midoriya’s corrections,” Kirishima continued, “And this is the final one, the one Aizawa sensei has just read in the classroom. My editing. I’m gonna leave them there, just in case you wanna kill him over something I wrote,” he eyed Bakugou.   

“Oh, don’t think you can walk out of this!” he snarled. “I’m gonna kill you too!” 

“Yes, but later,” Kirishima laughed. “See if you still wanna do it, after you two sort this mess out.” 

When Kirishima left, Katsuki didn’t turn around. 

He couldn’t face Deku, he couldn’t. He didn’t know what he had changed about his screenplay, he didn’t know if the happy ending was all Kirishima’s idea or if Deku… he didn’t know if he could hope. 

“Katsuki…” Izuku started, his voice wavering, “I’ve loved you my whole life and I love you still.” 

Don’t mock me!, Katsuki wanted to shout. 

“You shouldn’t. That, at least, is right,” he replied instead. 

“Are you that scared?”

“How dare you -”

“I didn’t write it. Not this line, at least. I wasn’t detached enough to understand it as Kirishima did. Is that why you kept your distance, even if we could be friends now?” 

His face contracted in rage or pain or desperation. “After all I did to you, do you really want me to be your friend?” 

“I’ve loved you my whole life and I love you still. That was me.” 

To Katsuki it felt like a blow, it felt like he was being gutted and emptied on the floor, leaving behind just a carcass. 

“I want so much more than your friendship.” 

He looked away. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand his green eye, so open so hopeful, couldn’t stand what was being offered to him. It was too much, too overwhelming. He didn’t deserve it. 

Izuku took his face between in hands and forced him to look at him. 

“Are you that scared?” He challenged him, serious and harsh, and Bakugou felt a sparkle in his chest. 

 “Never.”

“Then kiss me.”

And Katsuki did.