#mozaiku

Summary: A mosaic of Bakugou Katsuki's life and his relationship with Midoriya Izuku throughout the years, as told by his loved ones.

Chapter Seven: Kid

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Izuku arrives home after a long day of hero work, intending to hop in the shower and relax in front of the television. He is waylaid by Katsuki, who is in the midst of screaming his head off into his phone in the middle of their living room. When Katsuki spies him coming through the door, he lowers his voice somewhat, but his intensity persists.

“Oh, you do,” he asks the person on the other end of the line. “Because what I don’t understand is how the fuck you fuckers can be so fucking incompetent that you make such a huge fuck-up like this!” 

Toeing off his shoes, Izuku pities whosoever has earned Katsuki’s ire. Just yesterday, he had to run interference between Katsuki and their new interns from Yuuei, who had invoked his fury by failing to address each other by their hero names while on patrol. The kids had been practically inconsolable by the time Katsuki was through with them, revived only by a nod of approval from the man when they finished their shifts without any more mistakes.

“Yeah, you better have your lawyer on it! And while they’re at it, tell ’em that they’re gonna be hearing from me!” With an angry flourish, he hangs up and throws his phone at the couch before hunching over and loosing a guttural scream.

Hesitantly, Izuku approaches him. “Kacchan, what’s wrong?” When he receives no response, he adds, “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fine. And if it’s not, we can face it together.” For whatever reason, this elicits a turbulent laugh from Katsuki. His concern grows as his boyfriend continues to laugh far longer than is his wont. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong.” Cautiously, he sets a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “Do we need a lawyer?”

This question seems to snap Katsuki out of his hysterical stupor. Straightening, he wipes his hands down his face. “Yeah. Do we know any?”

Izuku wrings his hands as he thinks. “There’s Toshinori’s estate lawyer.” Last year, they had to help Toshinori set up a trust as part of his estate, and they met with his lawyer no less than half a dozen times. “I think her name was Murai? I can ask him for her number.”

Turning toward their home office, Katsuki murmurs, “I think I have it around here somewhere.”

Apprehensive, Izuku follows him. “Kacchan, why do we need a lawyer?”

Marching up to their desk, Katsuki begins rummaging around in it. He extracts a slip of paper from one of the drawers, stalks out of the room, grabs his phone, and dials out. After a moment, he says, “Yeah, is this Murai Tanaka’s office?” He waits for a response before continuing, “This is Bakugou Katsuki. I need an appointment with her. Now. When is she available?” He goes quiet again. He glances over at Izuku, who feels inexplicably as though Katsuki is staring into his soul. “That works. Thanks.” He hangs up, sliding his phone into his pocket and moving his hands to cover his face again.

Anxiously, Izuku asks, “What’s going on?” He wonders if there is something he has done that has now come home to roost. He panics, trying to think of what it could be. He got thrown into a bus by a villain last week. Has their liability insurance determined that their agency was at fault? He took a magazine with Katsuki’s face on it from a convenience store yesterday. He offered to pay for it, but the clerk insisted he have it free of cost. Had the store owner learned about it and decided to report him for theft?

Katsuki heads off his train of thought, run off the tracks. “Chill out. You’re not in trouble.” His frown worsens, and he looks away. “I am. Or, well, that’s up to you.”

Turning skeptical, Izuku questions, “Why? What did you do?”

Summary: A mosaic of Bakugou Katsuki's life and his relationship with Midoriya Izuku throughout the years, as told by his loved ones.

Chapter Four: Gift Certificate

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After the war, when once more resources could be spared, Tartarus was rebuilt to exceed its former glory. What was considered an impenetrable fortress before became a black hole, inescapable for all those sentenced to reside there for eternity.

Todoroki Touya was swallowed by this black hole nearly ten years ago. He resides in a frigid cell, too cold for him to do much more than light a small flame within the clasp of his hands. As he inherited his mother’s constitution, he does not much mind the chill. Rather, he resents his jailers for the indignity it wreaks upon him, especially as it disallows him the pleasure of hot soba when his brothers and nephew visit.

“Fucking cold soba,” he gripes, glaring between his soup and Shouto.

With his status as the ranked Number Two Pro-Hero, Shouto has the privilege of visiting Touya whenever he pleases, and he is allowed to meet with him in his room, rather than through a pane of thick, bulletproof glass. Today, he brings with him two additional visitors, Natsuo and his nephew, Tatsuo. Touya abides their visits with some reluctance, though he usually behaves, especially when they bring with them food from the outside world. For the occasion of his birthday this year, Shouto chose his favorite, cold soba, much to Touya’s fervent displeasure.

Touya’s appearance has changed somewhat since his return to their lives before the war. He has retained his blue eyes and white hair, but his skin differs greatly. He has had skin grafts all over his body, leaving it in mottled shades of brown, ranging from his natural, pale complexion to rough, tan patches. He also no longer has any of his piercings, the warden having deemed them a security risk. Altogether, his countenance is softer, less unsettling and disturbing, though it often leaves Shouto wondering how his brother would choose to fashion himself had he not been driven to burn himself beyond recognition.

Having grown disinterested in his own portion of soba, Tatsuo sits in his father’s lap and aggressively taps his chopsticks against the table. For the most part, the adults ignore this disturbance, though they give him their attention when he asks, “Um, uh, Uncle Touya, can I ask you a question?” It is the fourth time this afternoon that he has interrupted the conversation to start a new discussion this way, but he is still at a cute age, with pale, white eyelashes and big, blue eyes, so none of them much mind.

Chewing with his mouth open, Touya responds, “No.” Dismayed, Tatsuo pouts at him. He stares the child down, remorseless, until finally relenting, “What?”

Satisfied by his acquiescence, Tatsuo returns to idly stabbing at the table with his utensils. “Um, why are you in jail?”

“You know why I’m in jail,” Touya reminds him.

“Um, no, I don’t,” he replies

“Um, yes, you do,” insists Touya.

Irate, Tatsuo stands on his knees, digging one of his feet into his father’s crotch and thus causing Natsuo to hiss. “No, I don’t,” he shrieks, gnashing his teeth. Having stood his ground, he calms, retakes his seat, and arranges his chopsticks to steal some noodles from Natsuo’s bowl. As he stuffs them into his mouth, he says, “My mommy says you killed a lotta people.” 

Touya nods. “Yup.”

“But why,” wonders Tatsuo.

“Mostly for fun,” Touya answers, shrugging.

Summary: A mosaic of Bakugou Katsuki's life and his relationship with Midoriya Izuku throughout the years, as told by his loved ones.

Chapter One: Salmon

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The room smells of artificial citrus, the scent distinct but not too poignant. There is another scent, too, something ataractic like lavender or roman chamomile, though Izuku cannot quite place it. The walls are painted sage and decorated with accent pieces and framed credentials. The chair he sits on is comfortable, with plush cushioning and good lumbar support. Altogether, the atmosphere is soothing, he supposes, or distracting, at the very least. He might even say it is pleasant, if not for the reason they are here.

“I have fucking ass cancer,” Katsuki exclaims, his gruff voice pitching up somewhat. The older man scowls at his doctor, seated behind the large, wooden desk between them.

They first met Doctor Takeshi three weeks ago, a few months after Katsuki started losing weight inexplicably and just a week after he began complaining of frequent belly pain. Takeshi ordered a colonoscopy, two years ahead of Katsuki’s next routine test, and, now, here they are, sitting on comfortable chairs in a warm doctor’s office, hearing the worst news of Izuku’s life. Worse than when he found out he needed give up One-for-All, than when Toshinori died, than when his mom passed. What could be worse, he wonders, than learning his husband has cancer?

“Clinically, we call it colorectal cancer,” says Takeshi.

Katsuki leans back, rubbing at his eyes and grumbling to himself, “Well, fuck me in the ass.”

Feeling borderline hysterical, Izuku remarks, “Probably not a good idea right about now.”

Lowering his hand, Katsuki turns a glare onto him. His wrinkles make his frown all the more severe, more so than it ever was in their youth. “You over here making fucking jokes? I have cancer, and you’re fucking giggling?”

Defensively, Izuku exclaims, “I didn’t laugh!” He feels guilty, nonetheless. “I’m sorry!”

Katsuki expels a gusty sigh, shaking his head as he turns back to his doctor, though he spares a thought to set his hand on Izuku’s thigh. At his touch, Izuku feels himself unwind, not having realized how tense he was.

“So, what’s the next step, Doc,” asks Katsuki.

Summary: A mosaic of Bakugou Katsuki's life and his relationship with Midoriya Izuku throughout the years, as told by his loved ones.

Chapter Three: Collectible

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As the glass doors slide open, Masaru loses his grip on his son. The slippery three-year-old escapes his grasp, darting into the toy store. His small blond head bobs as he weaves through the throng of other kids and parents, making for the prominent display in the middle of the store. Masaru follows at a sedate pace, unconcerned about losing sight of Katsuki when he knows there is nowhere the little boy would rather be than in front of a hundred iterations of his favorite hero—except, perhaps, in front of the man himself.

“All Might,” Katsuki cheers, throwing his hands into the air and hopping up and down. When he catches sight of Masaru, he informs him, “This is what we need, old man.”

He nods as Katsuki returns his attention to the array of toys before him. Scowling, he peruses the shelves. Masaru, hoping to help him along, picks up a boxed figurine on the top shelf. “What about this one?”

Katsuki turns up his nose. “No way. That’s from All Might’s Golden Age. Deku already has that one.” 

“Alright.” He goes down a shelf. “What about this one?”

“That’s All Might’s Silver Age costume. Deku has that one, too.” Katsuki grabs another doll from a lower shelf and looks up at Masaru, his eyes wide and pleading.

Surprised at how quickly Katsuki has made his selection—his son is very particular—Masaru wonders how they will spend the rest of the afternoon. He had promised Mitsuki he would keep Katsuki out of her hair until dinnertime. “Do you want to get him that one?”

Katsuki enlightens him, “This is also All Might’s Silver Age costume, but it’s possible.”

Not sure what Katsuki means, Masaru inspects the description on the box. “You mean posable.” 

“No, I mean possible,” Katsuki shouts, stamping his foot. “It means you can move the arms and legs.” 

Sighing, Masaru chooses not to correct that which Katsuki certainly misheard in a commercial. “Alright, so, he doesn’t have this one?”

“No, he has both of them. But I don’t have this one,” Katsuki says.

Masaru sucks in a patient breath. “Katsuki, we are here to get a present for Izuku, not you. Your birthday was three months ago.” 

Summary: A mosaic of Bakugou Katsuki's life and his relationship with Midoriya Izuku throughout the years, as told by his loved ones.

Chapter Six: Blood

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A loud buzz sounds as the door slides open. Ochako waits for the guard to give her the go-ahead before stepping into the room, watching as Himiko perks up at the table she staked out for them. This is the first time in ten years that they have been allowed to meet without a thick slab of glass between them.

For the first decade of her sentence, Himiko was imprisoned in Tartarus with Dabi and the other surviving high-ranking members of the Paranormal Liberation Front. At the ten-year mark, she was moved to a lower-security high-security prison, Aeaea, one that permits inmates to meet family and friends in a communal visiting room. As Ochako nears her, Himiko ensnares her in a bone-crushing hug.

“Can you believe it,” Himiko shrieks in her ear. “I’m actually allowed to touch you here!”

Ochako squeezes her back, laughing as she relishes in the embrace. The last time she and Himiko touched was in the Gunga Mountain Ruins, holding each other after Himiko had given her an almost-fatal amount of blood to keep her alive.

“That’s enough,” declares the nearest guard. Reluctantly, Ochako lets Himiko go.

Taking a seat across from her, she hunts through her bag for her bimonthly blood donation. Himiko squeals as she slides it across the table toward her. Gently grasping it with both hands, she says, “Thanks, cutie.”

“You’re welcome, cutie,” replies Ochako. “So, how’re you holding up here? Has the transition gone well?”

Himiko nods. “Mhmm! I’ve made a bunch of new friends, and they’re all so cute, but they’re still a little scared of me, so we haven’t had a chance to really bond yet.”

Ochako hums in understanding. She knows well how terrifying Himiko’s first impression is. “I’m sure they’ll come around.” On balance, she thinks, Himiko is amiable and charming, so long as one can overlook her more obsessive tendencies.

Grinning with all her teeth, Himiko asks, “So, what’s new with you?”

Typically, their visits are spent discussing Ochako’s life more than anything else. Himiko rarely had updates while she was in solitary confinement, and she could not care less about whatever was in the news. “Well,” she starts, wondering how best to break her news to Himiko. Ultimately, she decides to rip off the bandage. “I started dating someone. Deku-kun.”

Abruptly, Himiko slams her hands onto the table. “What! Since when?”

“Two months ago,” she answers, preemptively wincing.

Himiko scrutinizes her. “Was this before or after you visited me that last time in Tartarus?”

“Just slightly before,” she confesses. Himiko gasps, plainly outraged that she neglected to mention this during her last visit. She jumps to explain, “It was way too soon to tell anyone. I wasn’t sure about the relationship yet.”

Turning eager, Himiko leans toward her. She waggles her brow. “And now?”

“Eh,” she supposes, shrugging.

Summary: A mosaic of Bakugou Katsuki's life and his relationship with Midoriya Izuku throughout the years, as told by his loved ones.

Chapter Two: Porsche

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Saying good-bye to Mina is always hard, though Eijirou has found the task even more distasteful since they made their relationship official after she broke into the Top Thirty on the Billboard Chart. Tonight is no exception.

“I’ll miss you, baby,” he says, staring out at her through the car window.

“I’ll miss you, baby,” she parrots, reaching over the glass to tap him on the nose.

“Not as much as I’ll miss you,” he responds, extending his arm out into the night to return the favor.

“For fuck’s sake,” Katsuki shouts, seated off to Eijirou’s right. He had agreed to drive Hanta, Mina, and Eijirou home after the festivities of the night, including their class’s reunion dinner and an hour or two spent at a karaoke bar afterward. His mission nearly halfway done, the delay is clearly frustrating him. “You see each other all the time! Just say goodnight!”

Twisting to face him, Eijirou holds up a placating hand. “We’re almost done, man.”

The animosity in his glare receding ever so slightly, Katsuki mutters, “Yeah, right,” and turns his gaze back to the dashboard.

With Katsuki mollified, however temporarily, Eijirou turns back to Mina. She has a fond look on her face, not at all put off by their familiar bickering. Her expression is endearing, so much so that he wishes he could get out of the car and join her for the night, but he has the third shift tonight, and he does not want to keep her up. “Get home safe.”

Her grin softens. “I will.”

“Of course, you will! I’m dropping you off right in front of your apartment,” yells Katsuki. 

She flashes a peace sign. “Thanks, Bakubabe!” He returns the gesture with a middle finger.

Eijirou rolls his eyes at Katsuki’s dramatics but decides to show him mercy. Craning his neck, he silently beseeches Mina for a quick smooch, which she grants him. They say goodnight one final time, and she skips through the door of her apartment building.

“There. You happy,” he asks Katsuki. Eijirou finds himself a little peeved by Katsuki’s boorish behavior, but he supposes it is to be expected. Katsuki has been in a terrible mood nearly all night, ever since Izuku rejected his offer to sidekick at his new agency.

“No,” Katsuki grumbles. He twists the knob to start the car and pulls away from the curb.

From then on, the ride is silent, painfully so. Eijirou would do anything for a bit of conversation or a chance to play some music, but Katsuki hates it when he fiddles with the radio, so he has little choice but to stiltedly broach, “So, how about that karaoke, huh? Those snacks were great, and the drinks looked good, but I’m working tonight, so, you know, had to refrain.”

Katsuki does not respond, staring out past the wheel.

Sighing, Eijirou decides he may as well address the elephant in the room—or car, whatever. “Listen, about earlier, you know, with Midobro. You shouldn’t take it too hard, man. He’s just starting out again, and he needs time to get his footing, but he’ll come around.”

At the moment, the car is idling at a red light. When the light switches to green, Katsuki pulls over into a no-parking zone, turns off the engine, tosses the keys at Eijirou, and gets out of the car. Before Eijirou can so much as utter a word in protest, Katsuki storms off into the crowd on the sidewalk.