Chapter Text
“Why don’t you take a swan dive off a roof and hope for a quirk in your next life?” he said and he laughed.
A sigh– and he was in his head again.
Observing.
The blip of a drop of water.
It’s what Izuku did:
The rumble of a stirring car engine.
what he lived upon,
The crack of a blonde boy’s quirk.
thrived upon.
He saw things.
The tensing of the boy’s wrist,
the subsequent explosion.
He knew things, stored them in his mind, like a file in a cabinet labeled ‘All Things Bakugo Katsuki.’
And yet,
he loathed this Bakugo boy.
Despite the piles and piles of figurative papers in his head about the human bomb, he held very little emotion for him at all.
“Kacchan!” a young voice cheered.
“Kacchan,” a jaded voice spat.
The boy’s red eyes shifted onto his curling locks, “Haahh?!”
Izuku leaned easily against the desk, allowing all of his ‘awkward’ to seep out of his being, a brief respite of anxious energy. “I’m going to Yuuei,” he declared.
Bakugo looked at him strangely, like a demon had taken over the body of his childhood friend. In truth, he wasn’t far off. “Where the fuck is this spine coming from, nerd?” he sneered, “Didya finally decide to get off your ass and train a little?”
“Sure,” he acquiesced to the blonde’s annoyance.
The boy scoffed, turning around and slinking out of the room, leaving Izuku alone in the classroom.
His focus turned inwards, no longer focusing on his goal with Bakugo. The files in his mind were in a messy pile, disorganized and upsetting. He rested his head on the desk, eyes fluttering closed as he entered his elaborate mindscape.
Izuku picked up a stack of loose papers on the floor, gazing around the perhaps infinite library. He shuffled the papers into a neat formation, checking to make sure they were in chronological order, then setting them on the table. He continued to do so as more and more papers fell from the black ceiling, all filled with various details about Bakugo and the encounter. When he’d collected all of the sheets, he put them into a large 3-hole punch, enjoying the satisfyingly soft crunch the papers echoed out, then placed them into an empty white binder. He grabbed his label maker, printing out a label that read “23/04/48 - Bakugo’s Declaration.”