In Your Shadow [Chapter 19]

[Chapter 18]




Katsuki sat down at the library computer, grateful that Aizawa had allowed him to escape the madness once more. Being their last day on the project, he’d expected his classmates to be a bit more focused, but they seemed to be the opposite – panic had made them go wild. The classroom had been a nightmare all morning, and the moment Aizawa had told them to get their projects out, Katsuki had practically run to his desk to ask permission to leave again. Thank God Aizawa trusted him to go off on his own, or at least didn’t give enough of a shit to tell him no.

He’d abandoned the idea of writing an essay, after a couple of days working with his video clips. Nothing felt right about writing it down, no matter how many times he wrote and rewrote, tried and retried. He only hoped Aizawa wouldn’t mind him going so out of the box with his idea – but he’d given them free rein over the format for a reason, right? He’d never said “any written format” or “any format except video”, he’d just said they didn’t have to write an essay, they could choose for themselves how best to present it, right? He was practically finished, anyway, so he had to hope it was gonna be okay. Worst case scenario, future classes would get more specific instructions.

He hit play on the computer when he’d pulled up his work-in-progress file, watching as the images began to move. After a lot of mental debate, he’d chosen to open it on a screenshot of the email he’d gotten from Spark Plug earlier in the week, slowly zooming in on the words. A quick cut took him to his chat with Trax on the rooftop, with Maelstrom and Optima pulling faces silently while he and Trax talked in the background, unaware. He was lucky that the sound had even been clear enough to use, because he’d really liked the idea of putting it in first, and he wasn’t really sure what he’d have done otherwise, once he’d had the thought.

“I mean, is it really about what makes a hero, or is it about what a hero does?” Trax asked on-screen. “Because there are a lot of answers to the first, right? But they’re always the same, and frankly they’re all pretty boring. A good quirk, a job title, a pay slip, an education from a hero school – but they’re all technical answers, you know?”

“I don’t think he cares about technical,” Katsuki laughed, surprisingly brightly. “I’m pretty sure he owns a dictionary. It’s the more metaphorical and emotional side he wants us to write about, probably because we’re all so emotionally screwed up. He said ‘what it means to be a hero’ which seems way too vague to just be like ‘well the license in my pocket says I am’ unless I get really stuck for ideas.”

“Then it’s about what a hero does, or what a hero is, yeah? Like, even if you don’t have a hero license, you can tackle someone out of the way of a train or whatever. And don’t get me wrong, I love that I get paid to come out here and keep people safe, but it’s like we’ve just forgotten where the word came from, right? It didn’t start out as a name for someone with a cool quirk who blows up villains, it started with someone who helped people.”

The video faded out, but the voices kept going, over footage of Trax holding up falling buildings while sidekicks ushered out the occupants, grinning with Katsuki in the lobby as they talked strategy, cackling as Katsuki’s explosions hit invisible walls in the sparring room.

It cut away again, this time moving to Ephia talking to a group of little kids in the little garden outside the agency, smiling and nodding as they told her all about their quirks. She assured every single one of them that they had the perfect quirk to be a hero with, that she hoped they could work together one day in the future. Katsuki had felt weird that day, hanging back awkwardly while she chatted to them, but he was glad he’d had his camera out, because it made for great footage. And then, of course, it cut to the news footage, with Ephia and Katsuki fighting side-by-side, villains dropping like flies, screaming in agony, while Katsuki and Trax held them back. The contrast between her smiling and chatting with kids, and making villains scream and collapse, was pretty damn stark.

It cut to Igneo next, as they sparred for the first time, the room bursting with exploding rock, short sentences exchanged between every move.

Then to Spark Plug – clearly a little intoxicated if you knew him well enough to tell, though Katsuki hoped it would play off as just messing around to Aizawa watching it – sitting at a dining table and telling Katsuki all about why he became a hero in the first place.

To Paragon, and his whole spiel about working as a team, keeping each other accountable – and as he continued to speak, Katsuki cut away to various clips, of himself and Bleak bumping fists; of Nightbolt clapping him on the back as they wrapped up a sparring session; of Windrider lowering him safely to the ground, with two panicked civilians clinging to him; of Razor handing him a lunchbox, as they sat down in a meeting room. On it went, and honestly Katsuki couldn’t even believe how many clips there were like that, but Spark Plug had clearly known what he was doing, when he’d sent that folder.

The whole video was less than five minutes long, by the time he wrapped it up, but Katsuki felt it said everything he wanted to say, and maybe more. Growing up, he’d always thought that being a hero was about beating up bad guys and being given medals for his work, about everyone looking up to him and telling him how cool he was. He knew better, now, and he needed Aizawa to see that, needed him to know that Katsuki could actually do this, that it was safe to put his faith in him, that Katsuki wouldn’t let him down.

He wasn’t sure when the project had come to mean so much to him, but he’d become addicted to it.

He recorded a few last voiceovers of his own to add in, to round it all out, and finally the whole thing was done – he was happy with it, he believed in it, and most importantly, he was proud of it.

With the video saved to a flash drive, he nodded to the librarian and showed himself out, getting back to class just in time to set the drive down on Aizawa’s desk.

“Are you finished?” he asked, unable to completely hide his surprise.

“Yeah,” Katsuki agreed. “There’s nothing else I want to change.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

“Yeah.”

Now he just had to hope Aizawa wouldn’t think it was stupid.



─────



Curiosity had apparently gotten the best of Aizawa, because when Katsuki came back from lunch, the flash drive was already plugged into Aizawa’s laptop. He didn’t say anything right away, but when class ended he caught Katsuki’s eye, waving him over, and Katsuki hung back awkwardly as the class emptied out. He really hoped Aizawa wasn’t about to tell him to start over, to write something sensible, but he braced himself for the worst, refusing to let on how much he cared about his video.

“I’m… very impressed, by what you’ve made here,” Aizawa admitted. “I knew that internship would be good for you, but I don’t think I realised exactly how good it would be. It really seems like you found a place there, fitted in like it was made for you, and I’m really glad you found so much meaning in it. I give this project to all my third-year students, and this is by far the best submission I’ve ever gotten, in all the years I’ve been teaching.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you,” Katsuki said awkwardly, his cheeks warm. “I got a bit carried away I think, but it… meant a lot to me, in the end. Hearing what everyone had to say, all these thoughts from different heroes, trying to put them all together into… something. I guess I wanted you to know how much I’ve grown, since I started school here. I know I was kind of a brat at the start.”

“Maybe sometimes,” Aizawa acknowledged. “But aren’t all teenagers? I’m very proud of you, Bakugou, of the hero you’ve become. I hope you know that.”

“That means a lot. Really.”

“I was wondering if you’d let me show this to some of the other teachers. There are some who would be fascinated to see it, but if you’d rather keep it private, I understand.”

“It’s fine.” Katsuki shrugged. “Just… not publicly, you know?”

“Of course. I promise it won’t be posted anywhere, I will only show people from my own computer, and I won’t show any of the students.”

“Then yeah, if you want.”

He’d never admit it, but Katsuki was pretty damn pleased by the request. Knowing that Aizawa not just understood and appreciated his work, but that he wanted other teachers to see it too? That was high praise indeed. Being back at school had felt like a curse, at first, but he was slowly settling back in, and knowing his work was appreciated definitely helped with that. Not to mention the good grades would sure as hell make it easier to find a work study placement, let alone a sidekick position after graduation. Maybe Deku didn’t want him now, but when he graduated at the top of his class, he hoped the man might reconsider. Temporarily, of course, until he could go out on his own and take that damn number from Deku.

“I’m going to beat him,” Katsuki said softly, missing the way Aizawa hid his smirk. “Maybe it’ll take me a while, but I’m going to do it, and I’m going to do it right.”

“Will you promise me something, Bakugou?”

“Yeah, if I can. What is it?”

“When you’re an amazing hero, out there in the world, climbing the charts; promise me you’ll still make time for me. If I come knocking at your door, asking you to get coffee with me, promise me you’ll let me in.”

“Of course I will,” Katsuki frowned. “I promise, Aizawa-sensei. If you ever need me, I’ll drop everything for you. No matter what.”



─────



“Bakugouuuu!” Kaminari sang, when Katsuki stepped into the dorm building. “You’ve been all secretive about your essay, hiding out in the library all the time – did you manage to come up with something? I’m dying here.”

“I already handed my project in.”

“What?!”

A dozen other heads turned his way at the words, staring at him with wide eyes, and Katsuki felt his face getting a little warm again with everyone staring at him.

“I finished it this morning, so I handed it in when class ended,” he confirmed awkwardly. “Are none of you finished?”

“I’ve finished writing,” Kirishima said with an awkward smile. “But it’s… not the best, I think. I really struggled with this one, it was so hard!”

“Can we see yours?” Kaminari requested, sidling up beside Katsuki and prodding at him lightly. “I won’t copy it, I swear, I just want inspiration!”

“Nope.”

“Aww come onnnn.”

“Not happening, don’t even try it.”

Kaminari pouted, but Kirishima just shot him a weak smile – he may not always have understood Katsuki’s sense of privacy, but he at least did his best to respect it.

“I can proofread and shit, let you know what I think?” Katsuki offered, in a moment of weakness. “But only if you spar with me first.”

“Really?!” Kaminari gasped.

“I need a good fight.”

“I’ll come right now! Just let me change!”

“All good, I need to change as well,” Katsuki assured him. “Meet me in five.”

“Me too?” Kirishima asked. “I’ll spar with you, too.”

“Sure. As many of you as you want, I don’t care.”

The room scrambled, and by the time they reached the gym, he had seven of his classmates in tow – the fact that they’d all be watching him each round was a little concerning, but he supposed it was still easier than sparring Deku, even with an audience.

“Do you wanna read in the breaks?” Kirishima suggested. “To get some rest in?”

“Breaks?”

Kirishima blinked at him, and Katsuki stared right back, only catching on when Kirishima looked pointedly at their small mob.

“I’ll be fine,” he said quietly. “I need to work on my endurance, so this is perfect. You guys can work on them while you wait, though, if you want.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Kirishima agreed, back to his usual grin. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve learned, and showing you my new moves, too!”

“Yeah, show me some cool shit.”

Katsuki stepped into the sparring arena with no hesitation, swinging his arms to get them warmed up a little, as he turned around to watch the group. No one stepped forward right away, so Katsuki just kept stretching out his joints, making sure nothing was clicking or creaking too much before they began. He wasn’t a huge fan of the fact that the whole group was inside the room with him, where they might get in the way of an attack, but he supposed that was something he needed to be able to account for when he was fighting – where civilians were, if he was out solo and had no one to direct them away, or a particularly stupid onlooker ran in closer to take a photo or something.

After an intense game of paper-scissors-rock, Sero stepped forward to take the first turn, and Katsuki quickly scanned him over with his eyes. Same height, same build, no visible changes in muscle size or definition, so in all likelihood, he hadn’t been on a particularly intense regime at his internship – where had he gone, anyway? Kamui? Was he remembering that right? It felt like a year ago, in Katsuki’s mind.

“Learn anything cool?” he asked, when Sero grinned at him.

“You know it!”

“Good.”

He let Sero make the first move, easily ducking to the side to avoid his first attack, a quick stomp breaking the tape that tried to tangle up his legs as he moved. He shifted one foot around in a half-circle, getting it behind Sero, and when another attack aimed for him, he just shifted the other one forward, pivoting smoothly around the blow and lifting his foot to kick the back of Sero’s knee. He’d expected to miss, expected Sero to see him coming, but his foot made solid contact and Sero’s leg crumpled, delaying him for a second in moving away. Katsuki decided to play nice, while Sero was still warming up, and took a small step back to create some distance, rather than throw him to the ground right away. Tape fired at Katsuki from both elbows, attempting to keep him pinned in the middle of the room, but Katsuki didn’t bother trying to escape it – he just moved in close again, exchanging quick blows hand-to-hand while the tape fell useless to the floor, missing its target. He took the opportunity to grab a length of it, pulling hard to get Sero off balance, then jamming a knee into his stomach, dragging a choked cough out of him. Sero grabbed him while he was unstable from the knee, attempting to tackle him to the ground, but Katsuki just deflected him off to one side, taking the opportunity to raise his foot and slam it down on Sero’s back, sending him to the ground with a loud thunk.

“Shit you’re fast,” Sero laughed breathlessly. “I’d forgotten how quick you move. Gimme a second.”

“Go take a break,” Katsuki offered, nodding toward the group. “Someone tag in.”

On and on they went, cycling through classmates as it suited, and over time, Katsuki found himself… bored. He’d never expected two weeks to make such a difference, but sparring with such fast heroes had apparently made his classmates look like they were fighting in slow motion. It wasn’t like Katsuki could keep up with the heroes, but he’d at least gotten used to reacting to them a little quicker, and it was looking like his classmates had not been afforded that same training.

It took a solid two hours for all his classmates to tap out for the final time, conceding defeat, and Katsuki gave them his best attempt at a smile when he found them all crumpled on the floor, leaning against various walls to get their breath back and nurse their bruises. He had to give them credit for not complaining, at least – they’d done a lot of that in past, when he hit them hard – but it seemed like Katsuki wasn’t the only one who had started to understand the realities of being a Pro-Hero.

“Alright, shall we read some essays?” he offered, sitting down beside Uraraka and reaching for the papers in her hand. “How are we looking?”

“You didn’t even break a sweat,” Uraraka huffed, handing her essay over all the same. “I know you’ve always been the fittest of us all, but this is getting ridiculous.”

“My fitness hasn’t changed,” Katsuki said with a shrug. “You guys have just been slacking lately, since you weren’t in heroics classes all day.”

“No way, you’ve definitely improved.”

“Reaction speed yes, fitness definitely not.”

“Maybe it looks that way since you’re reacting quicker,” Yaoyorozu suggested. “You’re wasting less movement, so it doesn’t require as much energy.”

“Oh. Maybe, that would make sense.”

“It’s very impressive that you’ve gotten so much quicker in just two weeks, though!”

“Thank you.”

Yaoyorozu blinked at him, and when he looked up, he found every pair of eyes staring at him with equal shock, making him blush when he registered his own words.

“Oh shut up, I’m not allowed to appreciate compliments? I’m here fixing your fucking homework for you and you think saying thanks is a big deal?”

He finished skimming through Uraraka’s writing in a hurry, then handed it back to her, pulling a face as he contemplated his words.

“You have some good ideas in there, but I feel like you tried to cram in a whole lot of different ones rather than expand on any of them. Can you go deeper on any of them? Like, you say a hero is someone who has undergone intense training, right? But you don’t say anything about why they need to be the strongest. I know it seems obvious, but they’ll want you to dive deeper, talk about being strong enough to protect people from assholes or something, you know?”

“That makes a lot of sense! Thank you!”

She hurried off to get writing, not bothering to wait and see how any of the others were doing, and as Katsuki ran through different projects, he found a common theme permeating them all which he’d never really expected – and honestly, might not have noticed if you’d asked him a month ago.

“You all have really similar answers,” he said quietly, gnawing on his lower lip – it took everything in him to remind himself that Aizawa had liked his video, that he didn’t need to stress about it not being ‘right’ anymore. “And they’re well-written and stuff, but they’re so… detached.”

“Detached?” Mina asked, glancing down at her scribbled words. “Like, too clinical?”

“Not even that. It’s more like there’s nothing personal in there. You have all the right words, but they could have been written by anybody, there’s nothing in there that’s you.”

The room fell silent for a minute, everyone staring at their words, faces running through a thousand different expressions as Katsuki waited.

“You all talked to your mentors, right?” he asked, when the pause got too long even for him. “There’s no way they gave you such canned responses. I bet they told you their anecdotes from when they were in school or their first years as a hero.”

“They did,” Mina agreed, her face turning thoughtful. “But we can’t just write in someone else’s story.”

“No, but you can refer to it, like a case study, or think about what it was in that story that made it so important to them, right? There’s a reason that story came to mind when you asked them.”

“What did Deku tell you, when you asked him?” Kendou asked, making Katsuki wince a little.

“His story is public knowledge,” Mina said quickly. “I want to know what Trax said!”

“Or Ephia!” Kendou suggested, all thoughts of Deku thankfully forgotten. “You must have asked, after that fight!”

“They all gave me good answers.” He shrugged slightly. “But they’re not your answers. Aizawa didn’t ask for parroted answers, he wants to know what you think it takes to be a hero.”

“You’re so mean, hiding all your fun stories,” Kaminari teased. “Will you tell us after the projects are over, at least?”

“One day,” Katsuki agreed. “But no promises on when.”

“What if I get an A on this assignment?”

“We have bigger concerns than stories if the world is ending.”

Even Kaminari laughed at that, and Katsuki cracked a little smile of his own, gesturing toward the door to the corridor.

“Let’s head back?” he suggested.

Everyone clambered to their feet with groans and grunts, and this time Katsuki stayed with the group as they walked, listening to them share ideas about what might make their work more unique, more emotional and connected. A few of them were quiet, lost in their own thoughts, while others never seemed to stop talking, in their excitement, and Katsuki just watched and listened.

Maybe one day, by the time Katsuki was the number one hero, these guys might make some good sidekicks for his agency.

[Chapter 20]