Archive of Our Own

“Uh, guys,” Denki announces uncertainly as he walks into the room. “We might have a teeny, tiny problem.”

“A very teeny, tiny problem.” Kirishima adds as he trails after the blond.

All patrons of the room look up from their current game of ‘Old Maiden’ and glance toward the new entrants. The boys are stood side by side in casualwear, looking as they always do save for the addition of some small kid held in Kirishima’s arms. The kid has a head of spiky blond hair and is apparently burying their face into Kirishima’s chest.

“Uhh, where did you get that kid from?” Ashido points out.

“It’s ours.” Denki reveals.

There’s a moment where the words settle with everyone, then the whole room erupts with noise.

“What?! Dude what the hell!”

“Explain right now.”

“When did you have them? The kid already looks old enough to walk!”

Denki instantly holds up his hands as if that could somehow stop the onslaught of incredulous and accusatory comments. “Wait, wait, shut up, you’re misunderstanding! It’s not my kid, it’s...” He breaks off with an aggravated groan. “Okay, we’re gonna show you exactly who this kid is, but you gotta promise not to freak out.”

“You saying that makes me think it’s something I should freak out about.” Ashido says.

“Oh, you definitely should freak out about this.” Kirishima agrees. “But please, can you promise not to do so or at least limit it until we solve this problem.”

Izuku’s face pinches into a frown. “What problem?”

Kirishima and Denki exchange guilty glances before the redhead moves his free hand to the kid and angles them so that their face is exposed to the rest of the room. There is no reaction at first. Obviously not as it would take a few seconds for the others to make the connection, but Izuku, who grew up with the kid, recognises him immediately.

“Kacchan?!”

The screech tears through the room, and it takes just two more seconds before everyone else arrives at the same realisation.

“Holy shit, that is Bakugou!”

“Are you sure? Maybe it’s his kid or cousin or something.”

“What the fuck, dude?”

“What happened? Why is he like this?”

The shouts and questions continue to be hurled at the pair holding the child. The crowd inches close and closer with every exclamation, and Kirishima and Denki do what they do best when confronted with an overload of something they can’t handle. They don twin expressions of resiliance and fight back.

“Hold up, hold up, hold up, please don’t come any closer!” Denki yells as he thrusts his hands up to protect Kirishima standing half-behind him.

“We can’t have you guys freaking out or it’ll scare Bakugou even more.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Uraraka shoots.

“He...” Kirishima falters briefly. “He doesn’t actually have any memory of us. Or of being a Pro-Hero.”

“What?” Izuku states for lack of something better to say.

Luckily Uraraka picks up his slack. “How is that possible?”

“We don’t know, we just—“ Kirishima is cut off when Bakugou starts squirming in his hold. A particularly hard push to the shoulder has him wincing. “Come on, dude. What is your damage?”

“I wanna be put down!” And if it isn’t unnatural to hear anything but the usual dark rumble of Bakugou’s voice come out.

“Dude, no. You’re gonna run off again.”

“Let me down!”

“Just put him down, Kiri.” Denki suggestd as he steps back towards the door and turns the lock. “He won’t run. Isn’t that right, kid?”

Bakugou’s too busy stumbling out of Kirishima’s arms, who has knelt down in order to release the kid, to offer a reply. The little blond doesn’t trail far from him though, but only takes a couple of steps out before he stops and peers suspiciously at everyone in the room.

“I am going to need you to explain exactly how this came to be.” Iida demands in a stern tone, voicing what everyone else is already asking themselves.

Both Kirishima and Denki hang their heads with heavy sighs. The blond joins Kirishima at his side and folds his arms across his chest. “Well... funny story kinda, but not really. You see, we were just hanging out in town when this guy bumped into us slightly. Pretty rude, and if it were just Kiri and I we would’ve scoffed and been on our way, but well...”

“Bakugou.” Kirishima fills in.

“Bakugou.” Denki agrees with a sigh. “He started picking a fight with the guy and next thing we knew...” He aims a nod at the kid in question.

“And this,” Ashido points at the tiny Bakugou. “This is what you came back with.”

“We had to!” Kirishima defends vehemently. “We didn’t know where else to take him.”

“Why didn’t you take him to a representative of U.A.?” Yaoyoruzu asks.

Before either of the boys can fumble out their responses Ashido loudly cuts in, “No way, what if they take him away?”

Yaoyoruzu frowns lightly at her. “Isn’t that good? They might be able to help. We’re not equipped to handle a situation like this, but perhaps they are.”

However her words fall on Ashido’s deadf ears who apparently already has her own plans in mind. “No, ‘cause then they’d be taking away the potential blackmail we can get on Bakugou.” She turns to Denki with a beaming grin. “Denki, get your camera phone ready!”

The blond nods once with his camera phone and already switched on and aimed at the little blond. “Way ahead of you, sister.”

“No, dude, stop. This isn’t right.” Kirishima argues as he lowers Denki’s camera phone, then adds on in a more accusatory tone, “You traitor.”

“Come on, Kiri! You’re missing out on a golden opportunity here. Now, come on Bakugou,” Ashido grins as she hoists the kid up into her arms. “You wanna look into that camera and say something incriminating?”

As soon as he’s gripped Bakugou lashes out and delivers a kick square into Ashido’s ribs. She drops him with a yelp, grabbing at her aching side. Bakugou lands on the floor with a deafening thump. He blinks in shock where he’s sat, mind running a mile a minute as he registers the fall.

“Kacchan!” Izuku is immediately kneeling at his side, hand reaching out to comfort him. “Are you okay? How’re you feeling?”

Bakugou slowly tilts his head up to stare at Izuku, tears already welling up in the corner of his eyes. One moment passes, then two, then all of a sudden his eyebrows pull down into a scowl. He smacks Izuku’s hand away with an angry shout. “I don’t need your help!”

Everyone jerks back in shock. The outburst was so unexpected that no one really knows how to react.

The silence is only broken when Uraraka awkwardly comments, “He’s certainly… fiery.”

Izuku peers down at his hand with a forlorn expression. “I guess some things never change, huh?”

“Bakugou!” Kirishima exclaims crossly. “Why did you do that? That’s not nice.”

Bakugou turns his tiny, child glare on full force. “I’m not nice.”

“When has he ever been nice.” Denki mutters under his breathe.

“I heard that.” Kirishima states with disapproval.

“So? Am I wrong?” The blond challenges. “Bakugou’s fun to hang around with and pester, no doubt about it, but he’s not exactly a stellar guy.”

“Not traditionally nice, but he’s not a bad dude.” Kirishima defends.

“Debatable.” Ashido pouts, still nursing her side. “Even the child version of him is a little shit. I applaud the parents who tried raising him.”

Bakugou meanwhile had tuned out the entirety of the discussion, too busy focusing his gaze on Izuku who is still wearing that somber expression. Izuku’s eyes are downcast and he’s rubbing his thumb gently over the palm of the hand that got struck. The image doesn’t sit well with tiny Bakugou, and unbeknownst to him his feet take him near Izuku once more.

“Why are you sad?” He doesn’t so much ask but demand. His tiny arms are crossed and his expression vicious.

Izuku blinks at him. “I’m not sad.”

Bakugou lifts up on his toes and pokes Izuku between his brows. “It’s wrinkled here. It means you’re sad.”

Izuku rubs at his temple. “Ah… I guess I am kind of sad.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Izuku starts, wondering how to explain himself to a literal child. “Because I tried helping you earlier and you batted my hand away.”

Bakugou’s frown intensifies as he spits out, “I told you I don’t need any help.”

“That’s fine.” Izuku acknowledges calmly. “But I would’ve liked it better if you were kinder in telling me you didn’t need help. Hitting someone to prove a point is never a nice thing to do.”

Bakugou’s body seems to tense up. Not from fear or remorse or anything of the sort, but out of his inability to react in a way that’s expected in this situation.

“It’s called ‘being polite’.” Kirishima explains helpfully, having witnessed the whole exchange.

Bakugou immediately whirls round on him. “I know what it is!”

“Then act like it.” The redhead chastises.

“That’s fine, Kirishima.” Izuku interrupts before the two come to literal blows. He pushes himself up to his feet and catches the other’s gaze. “We can’t focus on drumming some manners into Kacchan right now. First and foremost we’ll need to figure out a game plan to get him back to normal.”

“Absolutely right!” Kirishima agrees readily. “We don’t know how long he’ll stay like this, or even if he’ll ever turn back to normal.”

“Exactly.” Izuku nods along. ”What we need to figure out first is who exactly possesses the Quirk that transformed Kacchan into the state he’s in now. The chances of finding that person in town again are near to nothing, but finding them in the city’s Quirk registry should garner the best results.”

Kirishima snaps his fingers. “The Quirk registry! I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I can volunteer to take on the task.” Yaoyoruzu offers with a polite raise of the hand. ”Although I don’t have access to it myself, I can ask for help from the Helpdesk at U.A.”

“Right, the Helpdesk.” Izuku murmurs. He places a finger over his lip and furrows his brows in concentration. “ I don’t know if we should tell them why we need access to the Quirk registry.”

“They will probably inquire as to why we need access to the registry.” Todoroki adds.

“Ah, shit.” Kirishima spits as he rubs the back of his head. “If we tell them why they might take Bakugou from us.”

“I don’t think it’ll be that severe.” Uraraka comments. “T isn’t exactly a life endangering situation, just, you know, weird. I’m sure if we told them what happened and that we’re just looking into ways to solve it, we’ll be fine. They’ll probably offer to help, but I don’t think they’d take Bakugou from us.”

“I think you may be right, Uraraka.” Izuku chimes in. “Bakugou’s not in any danger in his current state, and even if U.A. do find out about this situation, they’ll probably consider the dorms one of the safest places he could stay at. We‘re his friends who know him the best, and we’re Pro-Heroes who can protect him if anything were to happen.”

“So we’re basically babysitters.” Ashido deadpans.

“Uhh... yes.” Izuku affirms. “However—“ He looks around the room until he finds Bakugou lingering near a dubious Denki. “Kacchan,” Izuku starts, bending down with his hands resting on his knees. “Can you tell me how old you are?”

Bakugou turns to Izuku with his head held up high and raises his hand. Four tiny fingers flip out. “I’m four years old.”

“Wow, that’s impressive!” Izuku humours the kid as his mind analyses the information. Bakugou didn’t develop his Quirk until he was five, which means the child they’re dealing with now is Quirkless at this point. Izuku’s shoulders ease slightly with relief. Good. That means handling Bakugou should be a tad easier.

He rises back up and turns to the group at large. “Bakugou’s Quirk hasn’t manifested at this point.”

The whole room audibly sags with relief. Izuku can’t help but smile at the act, knowing full well exactly how lucky they are to have been able to just barely miss out on kid Bakugou playing around with his newly acquired explosion Quirk. Damn lucky indeed.

Izuku feels a sudden tugging on his trouser leg. Glancing down, he‘s met with the round-cheeked, cross-looking face of none other than baby Bakugou. The kid yanks on his trouser leg twice more, clearly urging Izuku to get down on his level.

Izuku immediately does so. “What’s wrong, Kacchan?”

“Are you helping me?”

Izuku’s caught somewhat off-guard by the question, but quickly recovers with a smile. “We’re trying to. Is that okay?”

Bakugou averts his eyes, and Izuku thinks he’s ashamed over being helped again. However, that thought is quickly quenched when the kid awkwardly nods and says, “I’m sorry… and thank you for your help.”

*

Since Izuku has known Bakugou the longest, he assigns himself the task of keeping the kid entertained. Although Bakugou doesn’t have a speck of memory of anyone from U.A., Izuku has loads of memories of Bakugou from childhood. And, since the blond has seemingly been reverted back to his four-year-old self, Izuku brings out all the stops he knows four-year-old Bakugou loved, starting with a cup of orange juice and a tour of the All Might museum. A.k.a. his bedroom.

Bakugou loses his shit.

As soon as he steps inside and clocks on to what exactly is covering every surface of the room, his mouth drops open. He is absolutely dumbstruck, and Izuku swears actual sparkles appear in his eyes. It’s absolutely adorable, as well as making Izuku feel like the most powerful being in existence for rendering Bakugou so positively speechless.

They spend a while touring the room with both Bakugou and Izuku rattling off trivia about All Might and the memorabilia on display. Bakugou’s just as much a fanboy now as he was when he was young, but he hides it beneath layers and layers of prickishness. Izuku thinks it’s kind of relieving to be able to chat so openly about their admiration for All Might, even if it happens to be Bakugou’s four-year-old self. Besides, adult Bakugou would never offer Izuku a sip of his orange juice, and this one has already offered his twice. The difference age makes.

Unfortunately, this difference also means that little kid Bakugou isn’t properly able to calculate the correct juice-to-mouth ratio when distracted, and as such ends up spilling a good chunk of it on himself whilst eying up an All Might figurine.

“Oh no.” Izuku tuts, pulling the now near-empty cup out of Bakugou’s hands. “That’s not good.”

“Oops.” Bakugou observes seriously.

His expression is so stern Izuku can’t help but chuckle. “Oops, indeed. That’s okay though. We’ll just wash out your shirt and let it dry.”

“The floor...” Bakugou’s lips pull down.

“It’s okay.” Izuku comforts, patting the kid gingerly on the back. “I can clean it. In the meantime we should probably give you a wash too. There’s a bathtub in the dorms we can use for both your shirt and yourself.”

Bakugou’s frown deepens. “I don’t want to take a bath.”

“Well, it’s up to you. Do you want to take a bath or do you want to stay sticky from the juice?”

Bakugou falls silent, face pinched so deep in thought it looks as if he’s contemplating the biggest dilemma of his life.

*

“Mina, stop it!” Izuku admonishes as she continues to relentlessly film Bakugou splashing around in the tub, happy as a clam. Turns out once he’s in there he hasn’t got a single worry in the world; the trouble is just getting him in.

“No, can do,” She singsongs. “You’re basically asking me not to get footage of the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Izuku turns on her with a raised brow. “Bakugou getting turned into a kid is the best thing that has ever happened to you?” He asks, scooping up a handful of water and pouring it over Bakugou’s hair.

The blond squeaks. “It’s cold!”

“Oh, has that turned cold for you now? I’m sorry, Kacchan.” Izuku apologises softly as he turns the faucet back on. The water spews down into the tub. Izuku continuously flicks his fingers through the water, keeping an eye out that it doesn’t get too scalding. “It’ll heat up soon enough, just bear with me.”

“No, you dolt.” Ashido corrects, catching Izuku’s attention once more. “Getting blackmail on Bakugou of his kid self is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” And she genuinely sounds like she thinks Izuku is the dummy for not picking up on that fact instantaneously.

“You’re the worst.” Izuku mutters. “Just make sure you get my protests on camera so Kacchan knows I tried protecting his dignity.”

Ashido emits a derisive snort. “Of course you of all people would be on his side.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing!” She shoves away, zooming her camera in on the kid in the tub. “Bakugou, sweetie, say ‘I’m an irredeemable asshole!’”

“Mina!”

A flash goes off.

*

“You feeling fresh?” Izuku asks as he towels Bakugou’s hair.

“Fresh.” Bakugou affirms.

Izuku removes the towel from the kid’s tiny, blond head and drapes it over his shoulder. “Clean?”

Bakugou nods with immense confidence. “Clean.”

Izuku’s eyes travel over his form. “And how are the clothes Auntie Momo made for you fitting?”

The questions must be starting to bore Bakugou because he begins listlessly swinging his arms from side to side. “Fine.”

“Good.” Izuku gets to his feet with a small groan. Jesus, he really should not be feeling so tired already. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Yes!” Bakugou bellows, the swinging of his arms having spee up considerably.

Izuku can’t help but smile at his intensity. Even in kid form Bakugou’s explosive energy shines through. When Izuku was a kid that energy had translated into incredible confidence unheard of in people their age, but as an adult he can now see it’s just a child showing overwhelming excitement.

Izuku holds his hand out with a smile. “Let’s go then.”

“Just a minute, Deku.” Uraraka interrupts, sidling up beside him. “Lemme just try one thing.”

“Uhh...” Izuku blinks at her. “What exactly are you planning on doing?”

Uraraka places a hand on his shoulder and nods sagely. “Just trust me on this.”

*

Ten minutes and a half finished jar of hair gel later, the exact result behind Uraraka’s request presents itself clear as day. A small Bakugou stands surrounded by a group of teenagers, every single one of them transfixed by the suddenly smooth and slick quality of his hair. There’s a beat where everyone drinks in Uraraka’s creation of an angry baby Bakugou staring them all down with the hairstyle only a mother who doesn’t love their child would give.

It’s Todoroki who finally breaks the charged silence. “I’m uncomfortable.”

“Me too.” Kirishima admits.

“As am I.” Iida chimes.

“That makes us four.” Uraraka says around a sigh. “Guess we can all agree this as an abomination against nature then.” She reaches out to frizzle Katsuki’s hair back to its identifiable wild style when the spikes instantly pop back out on their own. Uraraka jerks back in surprise. “Uhh...”

Todoroki’s eyes gleam with unadulterated fascination. “Incredible.”

Izuku immediately wraps a pair of protective arms around Bakugou, aiming his stare of disapproval at all the people standing around donning various looks of shock. “Alright, that’s enough! He’s not an experiment!”

*

“Bakugou! Dinner time!” Kirishima hollers as he sets a plate of roasted broccoli onto the kitchen table. “Hot from the oven, come on now before it cools down!”

“I like it hot!” Bakugou announces loudly. The sound of his tiny feet thumping across the floor as he runs towards the table can be heard all throughout the dorm common room. The kid has trouble pulling his chair out, so Kirishima surreptitiously shoves it out enough with his foot so Bakugou can climb up into his seat.

“What do you say?” Izuku asks as he takes his place next to Kirishima.

“It smells yummy.” Bakugou comments, picking up his fork and squirming in delight.

“Other than that.” Izuku presses on, trying to fight down the urge to lift his lips up into a smile.

Bakugou is too busy blowing steam off the piece of broccoli he chose to pay them any attention. Izuku glances over at Kirishima who is already peering at over at him with a smile hanging from the corner of his mouth. The sight breaks Izuku’s resolve as he lets himself grin in response.

“Kids, huh.” Kirishima drawls teasingly. “No manners these days.”

“Really now.” Izuku replies playfully.

“What’s this?” Ashido asks as she walks up to the table, eyes locking onto Bakugou and his meal. “Broccoli? Hang on now. A kid? Willingly eating broccoli?”

“Kacchan loves broccoli.” Izuku comments casually. “Always has.”

“Is he broken?” Asks Denki who has joined the rest of the gang in watching the kid eat.

Izuku sighs. “Come on, guys.”

Ashido turns to look at Denki. “See, this confirms to me that he’s not actually a person. He’s a monster.”

Upon hearing the words Bakugou playfully bears his teeth at her, even going so far as to emit a tiny snarl.

“Oh, you like that?” Ashido jests as she gets down on the same level as him. “Show me again, who’s the monster?”

Bakugou growls again, grin so wide it could split his face.

Ashido straightens back up, cackling. “See guys. I’ve got this whole parenting thing pretty much nailed down.”

“Izuku.”

Izuku turns on the spot and catches sight of Yaoyoruzu approaching. His face splits into a welcome smile. “Yayoyoruzu! Welcome back.”

“Thank you.” She greets in return. “How are things holding up in here?”

“Good enough.” Izuku shares. “We’ve honestly had more trouble with Ashido than Bakugou, although it is pretty much neck-and-neck. By the way, thanks for making the clothes for Kacchan. We really didn’t know where else to get them at this time in the evening.”

“It is not a problem.” Yaoyoruzu informs him. “I must admit, I didn’t think Ashido would delight in Bakugou’s transformation so much.”

“Neither did I,” Izuku shrugs half-heartedly. “But apparently she loves it. In hindsight it’s not very weird considering her and Bakugou’s relationship.”

“I suppose you are right.” Yaoyoruzu concurs.

“Anyway, how did you do on your end? Manage to get some help from the U.A. Helpdesk?”

Yaoyuruzu inclines her head. “I did. Thankfully they were kind enough to aid me in my research, and as such we were able to find the culprit behind Bakugou’s state that much faster.”

“That’s great!” Izuku beams. “Real quick, did they ask about your reason for wanting access to the Quirk registry?”

“They did, but once I explained the situation they said they would determine their decision based on the information found regarding the culprit.”

“Oh?” Izuku frowns. “So what happened?”

“Well, we found that the culprit was a man by the name of Takagi Kouta. He is twenty six years old and works in the manufacturing business in the southern part of town.”

“Do we need to go hunt him down?” Kirishima inquires as he butts into the conversation. “Because it’s not that far to the southern part of town from here.”

“There‘s no need for such drastic measures.” Yaoyoruzu assures them with a placating smile. “The registry showed that the effects of his Quirk wears off after twelve hours.”

Izuku and Kirishima immediately deflate with relief and twin mutterings of, “Thank fuck!”

“Yes, thankfully it’s not something we need to solve.” Yaoyoruzu agrees. “We just need to ensure that Bakugou is kept safe and sound until the twelve hours are up and the Quirk’s effects wear off.”

“That’s such good news.” Izuku heaves a happy sigh.

“Extremely.” Kirishima agrees with a wide grin, his teeth glaringly sharp.

Izuku glances back at Bakugou who is still sat at the table. He’s currently engaged in some weird stare off match with Denki, both individuals hunched over and glaring at one another with twin looks of intensity. Izuku feels the stress slowly seep out of his body. He’s been so exhausted from the day’s events, so much more than he’d realised, and seeing that others are taking over babysitting duties for a while allows him some well-deserved rest.

He can feel the weariness having transferred to his face, making his forehead and cheeks grow hot. His eyes also begin to grow heavy, and Izuku is forced to blink rapidly in order to keep awake. It’s weird. He knows he’s tired, but he hadn’t realised to just what degree his exhaustion had pushed him. His whole face is warm and whenever he blinks his eyes become more and more wet, until eventually a few stray, hot tears spill down his cheeks. Izuku quickly wipes at them before anyone else can see, but he’s too late.

“You’re pretty when you cry.” Bakugou points out absently whilst still chewing on his broccoli.

A sudden silence descends over the room. One second passes, then two, then everyone curiously looks around the room until their eyes land on Izuku with his reddened cheeks. Next thing you know, realisation drops like a bomb.

“I knew it!” Uraraka exclaims, clapping her hands together. “I knew he was a sadist!”

“N-no, wait,” Izuku stammers uncontrollably as his cheeks continue to burn up. “It might not be sadistic tendencies. He’s just a kid, they tend to say what’s on their mind.”

“I told you,” Ashido hollers.“He’s gonna end up on ‘Making A Murderer’.”

Denki nods along. “If you look deep into his eyes you can see ‘prison’.”

“You guys, stop!” Izuku exclaims, taking his position behind Bakugou and using his own body to protect the kid, as if that will somehow deflect the hurtful comments evry is throwing around. “God, you’re so awful! Shame on you! He’s just a kid!”

“Yeah, but to be fair, it is Bakugou.” Ashido counters.

“That still doesn’t change the situation! You’re mocking a kid, a literal child who can’t protect himself, and you see nothing wrong with that? What you guys are judging him on is the grown-up version you all know, and that’s just unfair to this kid who has no idea who you even are!” He shakes his head with a huff. “You guys are honestly so awful. I can’t be around you right now. I’m going to go and tuck Kacchan into bed, but the rest of you better stay out here and think about your awful, awful behaviour.”

Izuku’s words are punctuated by him hoisting Bakugou into his arms and stomping off, leaving a strained silence behind. All remaining parties in the room exchange glances; some shocked, some disapproving, but the majority guilty and not nearly brave enough to make proper eye contact with anyone else. The silence drags on for so long that it grows stifling, and Ashido, who could never bear with them for too long, attempts to alleviate the atmosphere.

“Forget what I said earlier. Izuku’s got that whole parenting thing nailed down.”

All she receives in reply is a slow head shake from Kirishima.

*

“I can’t believe the nerve of them.” Izuku grumbles as he shuts Bakugou’s door behind himself. “So rude. So, so rude!”

“Were they being bad?” Bakugou asks from where he’s resting against Izuku’s chest.

“Extremely bad.” Izuku huffs. He extracts the kid from his person and gently deposits him into his own bed. Izuku then catches the look on Bakugou’s face; an unabashed grin. His temper fans a little bigger at the sight. “Stop that. Don’t smile at others getting in trouble, that’s poor quality.”

The smile instantly vanishes and is replaced with a small frown. It seems as if Bakugou wants to get angry, but he’s not sure if he’s got the right to get angry with Izuku right now. His bottom lip juts out further and his brows draw down.

Izuku sits himself down onto the edge of the bed and heaves a soft sigh. “Please tell me you’re tired.”

There’s no response. Bakugou is biting at his lip now, looking all kinds of uncertain. The lack of reaction alone tells Izuku that the kid is nowhere near tired. It pains him to suggest it when he’s feeling so drained, but he does. “You wanna play some more?”

“No, I’m tired.”

Izuku blinks down at Bakugou. He receives a wide-eyed stare in return, piercing and totally unrelenting. “You sure?”

Bakugou nods once, not looking sure at all. “Yeah.”

Izuku narrows his eyes at the kid. He internally contemplates whether it’s worth laying out the rules about not lying, especially when it’s blatant a lie has just been told. Usually he’d have some pretty extensive debates with himself before settling on a solution, but as things are now, with his energy levels so dangerously low, he decides not to bother. For now, anyway.

“Alright, then time for bed.” Izuku announces. Bakugou nods vigorously and allows himself to be draped over with the duvet. Izuku makes sure to tuck him in properly, even going so far as to fluff his pillow. “That’s not too tight, is it?”

Bakugou wriggles his feet to check. “No.”

“Good.” Izuku manages a tired smile. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your day today.”

Bakugou shrugs.“It was okay.”

Izuku chuckles out the response, but it’s intercepted by a sudden oncoming yawn.

“Are you tired?” Bakugou inquires.

“A little.”

“Do you want to sleep?”

Izuku gently pats his covered legs. “I’ll sleep after you.”

Bakugou looks as if he’s contemplating something before he averts his eyes. He’s silent for a moment, then mumbles so quietly Izuku almost doesn’t pick up on it, “If you want you can sleep in the bed and I can sleep on the floor.”

The utterance catches Izuku completely off guard, and he has to bark out a laugh and ruffle Bakugou’s spikes to recover. “You are so adorable.”

That trademark scowl is suddenly back. “I’m not.”

“To me you are.” Izuku teases. Bakugou’s cheeks puff up in anger, and it does nothing other than make Izuku think that this kid really is too cute for his own good. However, as fun as it is to rile little vicious Bakugou up into a fit, he’ll never get to sleep that way. Izuku settles himself further in the bed and asks, “Do you want to hear a story?”

And sure enough, that does the trick of grabbing Bakugou’s attention. “What kind of story?

“An All Might one, obviously.” Izuku says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bakugou instantly perks up, eyes growing wide with interest. Hook, line and sinker. “I’ll tell it to you if you promise to fall asleep afterwards.”

The kid nods seriously. He’s gripping the top of the duvet as if his life depends on it, gaze completely focused n the storyteller before him. Izuku spares a thought to how fun it is seeing this unabashedly excited side of Bakugou once more before starting in on his tale.

*

“Oi, Deku.” A dark voice interrupts.

Izuku hums non-committedly.

“Deku, wake up.” The voice persists.

Izuku grumbles lightly in response, eyebrows pinched in irritation. He receives a soft shove to the shoulder which causes him to blink awake.

“Come on, Deku, wake the fuck up.”

Izuku groans and squeezes his eyes shut. No. He doesn’t want to wake up.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me again, come on.”

“What is it?” Izuku whines, rolling over to face the source of his pain. He’s still bleary-eyed and nowhere near coherent, but he can make out an angry face staring him down.

“You fell asleep in my bed last night.”

“What?”

“You fell asleep in— nevermind.” The voice breaks off, clearly ticked off. “I remember, Deku.”

“You’re so vague.” Izuku gripes as he lets his eyes slip shut once more.

“Don’t fall asleep!” The voice chides, and he receives another shove that rocks him awake again. “I remember yesterday. Everything that happened, everything that you did, everything that all those other shits did; I remember it all.”

Izuku frowns at the words. They register with him but he can’t exactly make sense of it. He’s got a faint memory of what the voice is talking about, but he’s too exhausted to put it all together.

The voice must clock onto his struggle because it helpfully supplies, “I was transformed into a kid, remember?”

And that. That Izuku does remember, although it’s clouded by sleep trying to drag him back into the wonderful world of unconsciousness. “Bakugou?”

“Took you long enough.”

Izuku rears back a bit to blink at the man. “What’re you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here? This is my be— God, you really are useless in the mornings.” He breaks off with an aggravated sigh. “Just go back to sleep. We’ll talk later.”

“Mm?” Izuku mumbles, falling back into bed. “No, I’m good. We can talk.”

Warm fingers stroke through his tangled curls, eliciting a hum of approval from Izuku. “No, you should go back to sleep. You clearly need it.”

Izuku nods half-heartedly, letting the continuous stroking guide him back to sleep.

*