Chapter Text
Katsuki checked the hero billboard charts again.
72nd place – GROUND ZERO
It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t great either. But it wasn’t bad. He’d finally made it to the top hundred, overshot it by 28 even. A comfortable warmth erupted somewhere deep inside, and Katsuki couldn’t stop the pleased smile even if he wanted to. He scrolled up curiously, looking for the small bit of information that would make a particular someone’s day.
10th Place – DEKU
That fucking son-of-a-bitch really did it. He’d made it to the top 10 within four years of graduating high school. There was no denying it, Katsuki actually felt proud of the nerd. Seeing the shitty nerd achieve his dreams genuinely made him happy.
At one point in time, he might have been absolutely furious and insanely jealous, probably would have blown up his laptop the moment he saw the news. But if Katsuki had learned anything in the past six years, it was realism. Katsuki, in his miserable self-awareness, knew the train of becoming number one had long since left the station, and it was never coming back. So, if one of his old classmates had to achieve his dreams, then it could only be Midoriya Izuku. Fucking All Might’s favorite, his prodigy.
Or maybe Kirishima, but that’s just a personal preference.
Katsuki checked the ranks again, Kirishima actually made it to rank 22, which was amazing. Unfortunately, he was still below fucking Icy-Hot, and shouldn’t that be illegal or something? What kind of first-rate idiot had been allowed to vote to create that fucking outcome? Shitty Hair is way better than Half-and-Half, the former is an actual functioning human being. Shitty Hair is the kindest person on this infernal planet, while Half-and-Half can barely hold a normal conversation without most of it going over his head.
Katsuki shook his head, frustration bubbling up.
Damn. Place 72. That’s really shitty, isn’t it? And it’s even more pathetic that he’s actually happy with this score, that he feels incredibly blessed by all the people who came through and voted for him.
Shit, he’s a fucking sap.
But he’s had no news coverage at all this year. Not once had any known media company mentioned his hero name, not one single time since he made his debut as Ground Zero. He did it all through low-quality cell phone videos shared via niche threads on hero forums.
A sudden knock on his door shook him from his thoughts.
“Bakugou?” Mrs. Kawamura’s voice was muffled through the wall. “Are you home?”
“Coming!” Katsuki shouted as he made his way to the door. “Give me a second to unlock the door,” he said as the sounds of locks clicking filled the air. When he had unlocked all six damn locks, he opened the door to reveal the old and rickety form of Mrs. Kawamura, his next-door neighbor.
“I have left-overs! They’re spicy!” She said, a bright smile on her face, and her hands holding up a yellowed Tupperware box.
Katsuki grinned, bowing quickly to thank her before taking the box from her and waving her inside. He hadn’t eaten lunch yet and Mrs. Kawamura’s food was the best in a ten-mile radius. “Have you eaten yet?” He shouted behind him as he made his way to his shitty microwave. He put everything in before even hearing the answer, her thin frame could always use some more food.
When he glanced back, Mrs. Kawamura was smiling at him knowingly, not even gracing him with an answer to his question.
The door of the microwave shot open with a tinny beep. He pulled the steaming food from the machine and divided it evenly over the two plates he’d placed on the wobbly table that was supposed to make up for the lack of counter space.
That was what he hated most about this apartment: the kitchen. You couldn’t even really call it a kitchen. It was just a shitty microwave and a shitty sink that never stopped leaking and always tasted slightly off. He had a shitty stove, of which only two of the four burners worked, and he couldn’t even use those two because there was no way he would be able to afford the gas bill. He just heated most of his shit up by using the microwave but that was fucking boring and probably slightly unhealthy. But there was no counter space, no place to actually do what he once loved: cook and experiment.
He poured them both some water, taking his favorite Red Riot mug for himself, and served them both a plate of spicy curry. The smell made his mouth water in anticipation.
“I assume you saw the charts, Oldie,” he started, dropping down next to her on the couch.
“Yes, I did! I’m so proud of you, dear! My neighbor is the 72nd best hero of Japan!”
“It’s only the 72nd spot, I still have to beat 71 motherfuckers,” Katsuki said, a vicious grin appearing on his face at the thought.
Mrs. Kawamura smiled and patted him on the knee. “Oh, and I know you will, don’t you worry. Tadao came by two days ago and told me he voted for you. And he knew many more who took some time out of their days to vote for you! Let’s celebrate the milestones as they come,” she said proudly.
Tadao, or Kawamura Tadao, was her grandson. Katsuki met him after saving him from an armed robbery on one of his patrols. It had been a sad case: a starving boy so desperate to feed his family that he had somehow gained access to a gun and tried robbing people on the streets for money. He’d promised Katsuki that he never wanted to shoot anyone, that the gun was only supposed to function as a threat, something to motivate his targets. But plans like that never work out.
Tadao had been the unfortunate victim of the boy’s desperation. And the stupid man – don’t let the Oldie hear him call her son that – tried to reason with the boy, resulting in him being shot in the leg and a panicked kid trying to run. Ground Zero had interrupted them, and thanks to his first aid knowledge he had been able to both apprehend the boy and save Tadao.
Now the boy was in prison, which Katsuki hated, but he knew that there had to be consequences for the kid’s actions. He didn’t leave his family hanging though, he’d tracked them down and got them all into a foster family without separating them. Now they’re living in a way better neighborhood, in a nice house with a yard, they go to a respected school and are finally experiencing a healthy family environment.
The kid will be released in three years, and after going through a rehabilitation program he will be reintroduced to society and his younger siblings.
Katsuki was pretty proud of how this case turned out.
And so was Mrs. Kawamura, because she still came by almost daily after the first time she dropped by to express her gratitude. She’d pretty much cured Katsuki’s loneliness, and he’d cured hers. Now she gave him an outlet to talk about his patrols and supplied him with amazing spicy food.
“Will you go to the award ceremony?” Mrs. Kawamura asked, interrupting his thoughts. “I believe the entire top 100 is invited. Your friend might even make a speech, since he got into the top 10.”
“Deku isn’t my fucking friend,” Katsuki growled.
“Please!” She laughed. “You talk about him all the time, you can act up all you want, but even Tadao knows you’re one of Deku’s biggest fans.” When Katsuki was about to speak, she held up her finger. “No, don’t even try denying it, I saw your stupid little smirk when I mentioned his accomplishment just now.”
“I might go,” Katsuki muttered. “I want to show those fuckers that they didn’t get me down.”
Mrs. Kawamura smiled brightly at his response. Katsuki just turned to face his plate and took a large bite, uncomfortable with the happiness and pride in her eyes. “Don’t get too excited, I don’t even know when it is and what to wear. I don’t have any fucking formal attire.”
“Don’t be such a grouch, young man,” Mrs. Kawamura reprimanded routinely. “You will grab your laptop and check your email for any information regarding the event. And I believe I still have some suits from when my husband was young. They might be a bit stuffy and outdated but I think they will fit you fine. I might have to tailor them a bit, after all you are quite a muscled young man.” Katsuki’s cheeks flamed red as the old lady gave him a once-over. “But that will give me a nice project to work on. Now go grab your laptop!”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he muttered. Nonetheless, Katsuki got up to grab his laptop from the table that also functioned as a desk. The device was buried beneath a stack of papers made up of official crime reports, administrative forms, and all the other fucking documents that came with running your own hero agency.
He drummed his fingers impatiently as he waited for the hellish thing to turn on. His laptop dated back to high school; at the time it had been an expensive brand that his parents gifted him to make up for one of their many business trips. He hadn’t saved up enough money since to update the now outdated model.
Expensive brand or not, after four fucking years of extensive use the thing was old, the battery was complete shit, the screen did this weird thing where the pixels on the edge were lighter than those in the center, and, to Katsuki’s constant annoyance, the device was fucking slow.
Finally, the laptop pinged loudly and an email appeared on his screen. Tuesday the 24th, that’s when the award ceremony was taking place. In other words: Katsuki had three days to mentally prepare.
“Ground Zero! Hi!”
Katsuki looked up from the man he was handcuffing to find Etsuko standing in front of him, waving excitedly. Etsuko was one of his favorite people in this damned neighborhood. Right now, she was wearing one of her horrendous neon pink crop tops that showed off all her best-selling assets. Oh yeah, she was also one of the more popular prostitutes working these streets.
He honestly liked Etsuko, she’s an entertaining conversation partner and not easily offended by Katsuki’s antagonistic vocabulary. If it was a slow patrol, they would meet up and share some take-out and just chill together. Her stories, while often depressing as fuck, were always told in a way only a truly happy and optimistic person could. In all sincerity, she reminded Katsuki of a certain redhead.
“I’m kind of busy, Shiny,” Katsuki replied drily, pulling the now handcuffed man up and pushing him along as he started to make his way out of the dark alley.
His nickname, Shiny, was based on Etsuko’s quirk, which while not completely useless was hilariously stupid. She could shine colored light beams from her fingertips. She loved to do jazz hands with her quirk activated, making her look like a fucking disco ball. Right now, she was lighting the alley with a light-yellow flare.
“Who’s he?” Etsuko questioned, skipping beside him as he walked towards the police station three streets further.
“Tried to break in to old man Hayashi’s store,” Katsuki explained, nudging his head towards the delipidated storefront. “What he was trying to get there is anybody’s guess.”
Hayashi owned a pawn shop, but seeing the neighborhood he lived in, most of what he sold was complete shit. Still, every once in a while, he acquired something that might actually be worth something. Of course, instead of buying it, people around here tended to just try and steal it.
Etsuko hummed. “Makes sense. I heard some rumors of him selling a gold necklace. Real gold!” Her voice turned high-pitched in excitement as she told him the weekly gossip.
“Don’t know why he keeps spreading around shit like that, it’s like he’s fucking asking to get robbed,” Katsuki complained. In front of him, the thief was trying to make an escape, probably hoping that Katsuki was suitably distracted by the conversation. Of course, Katsuki was a fucking professional, and he just pulled him back by his arms and pushed him back along their path.
“He has to find potential buyers,” Etsuko explained.
“Nobody around here can afford that shit.”
Etsuko shrugged, probably not enjoying his realistic and unexciting answers. “So,” she dragged out the word, “you interested in this hot bod tonight, Ground Zero?” She asked, running her hands suggestively down her body.
The idiot of a thief looked very interested, but Katsuki just chuckled. “You suddenly grow a dick?” He replied traditionally. They’d had this conversation many times before.
“I’ll use a strap-on, just for you!” Came the familiar answer.
“Shiny, I wouldn’t even be able to afford it if I wanted too. I’m broke as fuck.”
Etsuko laughed, “So am I, honey. That’s the fucking problem with this place.”
She was right, this whole neighborhood was fucking rotten. They called it the Mazushī district for a reason. It was on the nose, but it warned the stupid tourists to stay away. It was a place where only those stricken by true poverty lingered. A neighborhood filled with people turning to crime and prostitution because they truly didn’t have any other option.
“The girls and I were wondering if you were coming by today,” Etsuko said suddenly. “We have a new girl and she has a nice case of hero worship for good old Ground Zero.”
“Sure,” Katsuki replied. “I’d already planned on going but it has been a busy patrol so far. I’ll make sure to create some time anyways. Still have to thank everyone for voting.”
Everyone on these streets had voted for him, they were his most loyal fans. He might be an unknown pro hero, but to them, to people like Etsuko, he was a real hero. Someone willing to save people who many others had long since written off as beyond saving.
He had garnered this loyal fan base because he was the only one dumb enough to walk these streets. The police around these parts were underpaid and some were clearly corrupted by gangs. And pro heroes didn’t come to these parts since there were no villains to be fought.
That was another reason for him being the obscure hero he was, regardless of his ranking. To truly gain popularity and recognition as a pro hero, you need media coverage. And to gain media coverage you need high stakes fights with well-known villains. But the only thing villains wanted was attention, something Mazushī couldn’t offer. Not to anyone, villains or heroes.
And that is how Katsuki learned that the hero system was truly fucked up. The system didn’t make citizens safer, didn’t shield society from those with dangerous quirks. Instead, it isolated those with dangerous quirks until someone introduced them to villainhood. From there, the fuckers would soon find out that they can find unlimited attention in creating chaos.
And thus, it creates an endless cycle of villains wanting attention for the way the system screwed them over, and heroes fighting them and in doing so giving them the attention they crave, motivating the next potential villain to follow the same path. Meanwhile, true crime came from the overlooked, from the people with little to no quirk who, because of their quirk status, slipped through the cracks. They were the ones that turned to old-fashioned crimes, endangering actual citizens.
So no, there were no villains in the slums, there was no attention found there. But there were desperate people, willing to kill someone for a little extra money, willing to lose all their morality just to fill that aching pit people called a stomach. And then Katsuki hadn’t even mentioned the gangs, the uncontrolled gun violence, and the rapists.
But Katsuki defeated no villains, so he got no media attention. If it weren’t for the fact he had been registered as a pro hero; most would probably confuse him for an underground hero. And a particular brave underground hero at that, because no other agency dared to send their heroes to patrol these streets.
“Many arrests today?” Etsuko asked curiously.
Katsuki nodded. “Four. Two drug drop offs, one rapist, and a kid robbing a tourist. The dumb fuck walked around here with a designer bag, fucking begging to get robbed.”
Etsuko laughed. “Dumb damn tourists,” she said before facing him, expression pained. “So, the rapist? The victim anyone I know?”
“A woman with purple hair, blue eyes, and wearing a red dress?” Katsuki tried to describe, hoping his generic description would be enough for Etsuko to identify her.
“Shit!” Etsuko shouted. She kicked a random cardboard box hard into the wall, her frustration palpable. “That’s Rie. I’ll have to go to her!” She started to make her way back to where she came from. “You hit that fucker extra hard, I hope!”
“Made sure my fist was accelerated by an explosion, that fucker is not waking up any time soon!” Katsuki shouted back, earning a thumbs up in return.
The thief, who he still hadn’t delivered to the station, looked at him with wide eyes. “I voted for you,” he said meekly, probably trying to stay in his good graces.
Katsuki laughed. “Thanks man. Still bringing you to the station though.”
“Worth a try,” the man sighed.
A few minutes later Katsuki was sitting on a shitty seat in the shitty station waiting for a policeman to hand him the form for his arrest report. Apparently, the station was out of printing paper, if you can fucking believe it, so now he had to wait for one of the newbies to return from the 24/7 convenience store around the corner. He just hoped that the store still had printing paper in stock and that the sucker could run quickly.
Another problem of this fucking neighborhood: even buildings such as a police station, which should fall under government funding was falling apart at the seams. Most of the fucking government money went to the stations in the richer neighborhoods to make sure they look ‘presentable’ and ‘representative of the community’. The excuse was of course that the rich paid more so they got more in return. This was bullshit because of course they fucking paid more, they were fucking rich! His hands popped off a few small explosions in irritation, which got him a few wary glances from the druggies sitting in the holding cell.
Katsuki sighed, nothing he could do about the system right now.
Right this moment, he just wished he had an assistant or something. Someone who could take over the written aspect of the job when he felt completely beat after an eleven-hour workday. But he owned his own agency – Agency Zero, it had been the only way to work as a hero in the field – and he couldn’t afford any employees. He did everything himself and he did it well, but sometimes he wished he could just finish a patrol and rest.
Be that as it may, Katsuki was not a quitter. He had a dream: become the number one hero, and he was going to achieve that dream. Even if it took him everything he had to give and more.
And sometimes it really seemed like that dream was going to take exactly that.
Still, it would all be worth it when he became number one. That’s what he told himself when the policeman came back with a stack of papers he had to fill in for ‘administration’. And that’s what he repeated when he was only halfway through the stack an hour later, distracted by Chief Kojima watching him suspiciously from his office and conversing with those disgusting lackeys of his.
It would all be worth it one day.
It had to be.
It had to.