Summary: Seeing his son chained to that podium and muzzled, on display like a feral animal, makes Masaru nauseous with horror and anger.
Characters: Bakugou Masaru, Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Mitsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Aizawa Shouta (mentioned)
Tags: Masaru being a good father, UA Sports Festival aftermath, Aizawa having a talk with Katsuki off-page, brief appearance by Kirishima
Notes: Last weekend’s episode of BNHA got me all worked up about Bakugo being chained to that podium all over again. I saw some discourse going around Tumblr about how his parents might have reacted to it, and couldn’t get the idea of this out of my head.
“Are they fucking kidding me?!”
Mitsuki is fury. She is a storm about to wreak its path of destruction. She is a mother bear prepared to gut any threat to her cub. She is a fire and the forest will burn to ashes.
And honestly, Masaru can’t blame her. Seeing his son chained to that podium and muzzled, on display like a feral animal, makes him nauseous with horror and anger.
“How the fuck could they do that to him?! That’s how they treat their first place winner?! That’s how they treat a 15-year-old boy?!”
Masaru shakes his head in disbelief. “I don’t know,” he says quietly. His eyes are still glued to the television screen as his son strains against the restraints. He looks insane. And the nation is watching.
Mitsuki is dialing a number into the phone and pressing it to her ear. “He’s a brat but he’s still a child! That’s our child, Masaru! They’re humiliating him on national television!”
Masaru feels stomach acid rising up into his throat and swallows it down. Katsuki’s muzzle has been removed and he’s yelling at All Might that his win means nothing.
“Yes, hello? This is Bakugo Mitsuki, the mother of the boy your faculty just chained up on live television. Put me on the phone with the Principal… Of course I know he’s busy watching the Sports Festival, and I don’t give a shit! He’s going to speak to me right fucking now and get my son out of those chains and off the television! … Fine, if you can’t locate him, then I am holding you personally responsible for getting my Katsuki off of that damned podium!”
Katsuki is not an easy child by any means, but this is too much. They’ve seen their own son filled with rage before and know that this was not the approach to dealing with it. There is no reining him in when he needs to explode, but allowing him some room to breathe and being patient can go a long way to containing the explosion. Mitsuki is not so good with the patience, but Masaru can wait out Katsuki’s (…and Mitsuki’s) temper with the patience of a monk.
On the screen, All Might has just forced the medal on Katsuki, whose rage has not cooled. He stands there visibly shaking even from a distance as All Might turns his speech to the rest of the students. Any one of them could be on this podium, he says, and Masaru’s stomach does another twist at the thought of how the speech – coming from his son’s idol – must be rubbing salt on the wound.
It may not entirely make sense to him, but Masaru at least understands that the trigger for his son’s anger was feeling that his opportunity to prove himself the indisputable victor had been undermined by that Todoroki kid’s holding back in their match.
There are few things that Katsuki cares about when it comes to how others perceive him, but acknowledgment that he is the best is one of them. Before UA – rather, before Midoriya Izuku also got accepted into UA – he never had to work for that acknowledgment. Since coming to UA, though, he had to recognize the strength of others and began to work harder to surpass them. It is good for Katsuki in many ways – both of his parents feel their son could use some humbling – but any perceived slight to his pride is much harder for him to take lately.
Masaru has on several occasions tried to broach the subject of therapy, but Mitsuki refuses to hear it. As much as she loves to criticize Katsuki and call him an ungrateful little shit, she doesn’t want to make him feel like something is actually wrong with him. He’s just a passionate boy, she says, and he’ll eventually have the cockiness beat out of him at that school. Still, Masaru sometimes worries that Katsuki is too much for the school or even Katsuki himself to handle.
The Principal or someone else with authority must have been retrieved because Mitsuki is yelling into the phone with renewed fervor. On the television, All Might has just flubbed his own catch phrase, and cement walls are suddenly springing up to surround the podium on all sides, apparently surprising the audience as the winners are blocked from view.
“You think I don’t know that?! He’s always been headstrong but he’s still a teenager and you should’ve just let him cool off in the damn classroom instead of forcing him to accept a medal he didn’t even want on live television! I better not find out from him that those restraints weren’t removed immediately.”
Masaru turns off the television and watches his wife’s ongoing tirade. She’s been pacing the kitchen for the past few minutes, hands gesturing wildly as she shouts. She threatens whomever the poor soul on the other end of the line is if the school ever humiliates their son again. Her threats aren’t idle, Masaru knows. She would kill for her son if it ever came to that. Protective is a side Katsuki rarely gets to see of his mother. They are too alike to do much other than fight with each other, but she loves him so fiercely. And damn it, does Masaru love that woman for it.
“You’d better fucking be sorry,” she’s growling into the phone. “But I don’t want a fucking apology, and my son sure as hell won’t want to hear it either. We are entrusting our kids and their futures to you assholes, so don’t fuck it up!”
She hangs up and throws the phone down on the counter. “Morons! Apologizing like the damage isn’t already done.” She collapses into the space beside him on the couch. “Why does Katsuki always have to be like this, Masaru? Why is he so much trouble?”
Masaru doesn’t answer. They both know how their son became such a prideful teenager. They also both know he inherited his passionate but volatile disposition from Mitsuki, and Masaru would never remind her of that fact.
“He’s going to be insufferable when he gets home.” She says it like it’s going to be an inconvenience for her but he can hear the tone of worry disguised in the criticism.
Masaru sets a placating hand on hers. “If he is, it’s only because he’s upset and embarrassed.”
“I know that. I know. But he can’t… he can’t just act like some rage-filled little shithead all the time! The whole world is looking at him right now like he’s a madman, and that fucking school just put it on display!” Angry tears appear at the corners of her eyes and she swipes them away with the back of her hand. “I have half a mind to withdraw him but Katsuki would never let us. Thank god that at least that Aizawa man seems to see our Katsuki for what he really is!”
Masaru nods and looks at the clock. “I’m going to go to pick him up from school.”
Mitsuki sighs and sinks further into the couch cushions. “Good idea. We don’t need to be paying fines for whatever public property he decides to blow up on his way home.”
“He’ll be alright, Mitsuki.”
The blonde crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “You don’t need to tell me that. He’s my son. Of course he’s going to fucking be okay.” She softens her gaze just a bit. “Don’t tell him you’re proud of him for winning or anything. You’ll only piss him off more.”
Masaru nods because he already knows. He’s the peacekeeper of the Bakugo family, after all. He knows the way those two work, and he has years of practice in placating their moods.
He stands up and smooths the wrinkles from his pants. “I’ll take him somewhere to blow off steam before we come home.”
Mitsuki grunts her agreement. “Make sure the little shit eats something. And don’t bring him home until he’s stopped acting like an animal.”
Masaru kisses the top of her head. “He’s going to be fine.”
He smiles into her hair when she scoffs, “I know.”
Masaru arrives shortly before students come filtering out of the building. He leans on the outside of his car so that Katsuki can’t miss him from the mass outpouring of students. He sees several faces he now recognizes from the Sports Festival broadcast but no Katsuki. Midoriya Izuku is, though, and he nods recognition at Masaru, mumbling a rushed “Good afternoon, Bakugo-san,” before ducking his head and rushing off with the little anti-gravity girl who fought Katsuki.
Masaru continues to wait. Even as only a few students trickle out behind the initial rush, his son is not among them. Eventually, a lone head of red hair appears and Masaru is calling out to catch the boy before he’s disappeared.
The boy halts in his tracks and looks up with a surprised face. “Huh?”
“You’re Kirishima Eijiro, correct? You were on my son Katsuki’s team for the cavalry battle?”
Kirishima’s eyes grow wide and he lifts one hand to rub bashfully at the back of his head. “Oh! Yes, Bakugo-san. That’s me! Is there… something I can help you with?”
Masaru gestures towards the gates the boy has just stepped through. “Do you happen to know if Katsuki is still inside or have I missed him?”
The redhead frowns and nods. “Aizawa-sensei asked him to stay back a minute. I was going to wait but… well, I thought he might just be mad at me if I waited for him.”
Masaru smiles gently. “You’re probably right. So you’re a friend of Katsuki’s?”
“Well, I’d like to think so,” Kirishima said a bit uncertainly. “He’s really cool and strong! And we make a pretty good team when we work together! … Bakugo-san, is he going to be in trouble? Because he’s still pretty upset and – I’m so sorry, I’m overstepping! Please forgive me!” Kirishima bows his head.
Masaru chuckles. “Don’t worry, he isn’t in trouble. Thank you, Kirishima-kun. You should probably head on home. I’m sure your family is eager to see you after watching you in the Sports Festival. You were very impressive.”
Kirishima grins brightly. “Wow, you really think so? Thank you, Bakugo-san!”
Masaru waves the boy off and resumes watching the school entrance. After a few more minutes, Katsuki finally makes his appearance, bag flung over his slouched shoulder, one hand shoved deep in the pocket of the low-hanging pants Mitsuki loves to scold him for… and dangling at his side where his other fist is clenched around the ribbon.
Katsuki is too busy scowling at the ground to take notice of him from that distance, and Masaru is able to see that his body is still shaking in anger before the boy even sees him.
Katsuki only shows mild surprise when he finally makes eye contact with his father and hardens his glare.
Masaru knows better than to ask if he’s alright or to prompt any sort of conversation about the events of the day, so he gestures to the passenger side door and walks around to get back into the car. “Let’s go.”
Katsuki stands still for a moment before grunting and acquiescing to his father’s request. He throws his bag into the back and crosses his arms over his chest once he’s buckled in.
“Change of clothes and your hiking boots are in the back,” Masaru tells him as he pulls away from the curb and heads for the park trails near their home.
Throughout the drive, Katsuki glares down at the medal and Masaru lets him sulk. When they arrive at their destination, he strips down to the sleeveless undershirt beneath his school clothes and changes into the pants and shoes Masaru brought. He stubbornly maintains his hold on the medal the entire time.
They hike in silence, choosing a path with tougher terrain until they get to the end of the trail at the top of a low peak.
Masaru hangs back as Katsuki steps over to the ledge and stares downward. The boy’s shoulders are still quaking – he hasn’t stopped since Masaru picked him up – when he finally lets out a furious roar. Small explosions like tiny fireworks go off in his hands, singeing the medal held in one fist. The cry is long and loud and ends in a choked off sob. Katsuki rubs at his eyes with the back of his arm.
“Fuck!” he yells. He whirls around launchs a blast at a small tree a few feet away from him, easily felling it and toppling it over the side of the peak. “Fuck!”
Katsuki plops himself down on the ground, arms folded on the tops of his knees and face buried in them. He breathes heavily for a while until he’s calmed a bit
Masaru sits several feet away. “You want to talk about what happened today?”
“Everyone at that school is a bunch of assholes,” Katsuki spits. “What is there to talk about?”
Katsuki looks like he might go flying into another rage when he looks up, but he remains seated and Masaru takes that as indication that he should press on.
“No one would blame you if you wanted to take some time to figure out if you still want to attend. There are plenty of other hero programs that would be lucky to have you–”
“What?! No! Fuck that! I’m going to keep going to UA and I’m going to prove that I’m superior to Deku and that half-and-half bastard and all the rest of those damn extras better than this shitty medal can! I’m going to be number one!”
“Okay,” Masaru says carefully. “But you should probably keep your temper in check better next Sports Festival, yeah?”
Katsuki growls. “Yeah, I fucking know. Aizawa-sensei already gave me the damn lecture about ‘not making an idiot of myself’ next time.”
Masaru nods. “Good. That’s your homeroom teacher, right? Seems like a smart guy.”
“He’s a straight shooter,” Katsuki grunts his reluctant approval.
“What else did he say about the festival?”
Katsuki is glaring at the medal again, his fingertips almost white where they are clenched tightly around it. He’s silent for a while and Masaru begins to think he’s not going to respond. Eventually, he tosses the thing onto the ground in front of him and nudges at it with the toe of his boot. “He said I deserve first place because Todoroki was being too much of a little bitch to fight at full strength.”
“In those words exactly?” Masaru laughs.
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “In a real fight, holding back like that could get a hero fucking killed. Sensei said that today I was the stronger competitor for having the determination to win.”
“Fuck that. Icy Hot made a fucking fool of me.” He doesn’t sound nearly as angry as before, though. He’s tired. And maybe just a bit appeased by his teacher’s words. “I’ll make him fight me for real next time. And I’ll still win.”
“Then we’ll just have to look forward to next year.” Masaru pushes himself up to stand and wipes his hands on the front of his pants. He holds out a hand to help his son up. “You know we’re proud of you, right?”
Mitsuki won’t admit to it – has refused to admit to the secret massive amount of pride she has for her son since he was young and became spoiled rotten by the praise from everyone around him – but Masaru knows she feels the same way. The drive and fighting spirit that no one can crush are the best traits that Katsuki inherited from his mother.
“Tch.” Katsuki doesn’t meet his eyes as he stands without his help. “Let’s get home before the hag decides to make our lives hell.”
Masaru reaches down and retrieves the medal. “Are we leaving this behind?”
Katsuki eyes it with disinterest and shrugs. “Take it. It’s a reminder of what I’m going to achieve next time. A ‘scar,’ or whatever shit All Might was saying. Even if I don’t want it.”
They make the trek back to the car in comfortable silence. Katsuki actually falls asleep only a few minutes into the ride home. A faint scowl is still present on his face.
Masaru smiles to himself. Today was a Bad Day, but he is certain that, overall, UA really is good for his son. The experience is the humbling one Katsuki needed after years of being the big fish in a little pond. He has made at least one real friend, from the look of things. And he has the guidance of teachers who understand him, tell him what he needs to hear, and have earned his respect as a result.
Katsuki is right where he belongs.
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