Chapter Text
In the bustling cafeteria of U.A High, Bakugou Katsuki sat with his usual group of friends, the so called “bakusquad”, no matter how much he complained the stupid name stuck. The others were chatting animatedly around him but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to their antics so early in the morning. Suddenly, a shy-looking student approached their table, fidgeting with their hands.
“Um, Bakugou,” they stammered, blushing furiosly as they met his intense red gaze. The chatter stopped abruptly, is not always that someone has the corage to meet Bakugou’s eyes without cowaring in fear or starting a fight. Knowing about this set not only the whole table on edge, but the “dekusquad’ that was sat nearby too, ready to stop the seemly enevitable conflict. “U-um, I wanted t-to... I was wondering...”
“Fucking spit it out already! You looking for a fight or something?” They seemed unfazed with the harsh words, for a second the class wondered if they didn’t fear death.
“No! I wanted to ask if you would like to go on a date with me? sometime?” They seemed uncertain, losing their corage by the second. The table went silent. Kirishima’s eyes widened, and Mina let out a suprised squeak of excitement. Kaminari and Sero exchanged mischievous look before they both burst into laughter, clearly amused by the unexpected scene.
“Whoa, wait is this for real?” Kaminari snickered, whiping a tear from the corner of his eye “Did someone dare you to ask him out or something?”
“Yeah, seriously,” Sero added with a grin. “ I mean, of all people, you pick Bakugou? Are you out of your mind?”
Bakugou’s jaw clenched as he looked around his friends amused faces, the muscles in his face tightening ever so slightly. He tried to mask the flicker of hurt that crossed his face, forcing his usual annoyed scowl. Was that what they all thought? That he was so unapproachable, so unlikable, that the only reason anyone would ask him out was as part of some cruel joke? Was he really that bad? Since the first year he thought he was getting better, he went through conceling and was trying to be nicer, showing appreciation to his friends, cooking meals for the class, healping them study, he really was trying okay? He even made things right with Deku!
It clearly wasn’t enough though. Was it really so unfatable even to his own friends that someone might actually be interested in him?
“Oi, you extras cut it out!” he growled, though his voice lacked his usual bite.
The student’s face paled as they tried to explain themselves, looking more uncomfortable by the second. Bakugou didn’t wait for the response though. He didn’t want to see their face twist into mock laughter and clarify that it was just a joke. He abruptly got up from his seat and stormed out, his eyes suspiciously wet as heard his friends try to call out to him in confusion.
He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white, nails digging into his palms as he marched down the empty hallway of the dormitory.
He didn’t stop until he reached his room, slamming the door shut behind him. The silence that enveloped him was almost suffocating, the buzzing energy from the cafeteria now a distant memory. Bakugou’s hands were trembling, and he hated that he couldn’t make it stop. He hated how much it hurt to hear his friends laugh at the idea of someone actually liking him.
He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in a desperate attempt to focus on the familiar sting of pain rather than the ache in his chest. After a moment, he forced himself to take a breath, to calm down even if his mind was still a mess of anger and insecurity, going through the breathing exercises his therapist thought him.
Slowly, he walked over to the mirror hanging on the wall above his dresser. He stared at his reflection, at the scowl that came so naturally to his face, at the intensity in his eyes that had always seemed to intimidate people more than invite them in.
He leaned in closer, his red eyes scrutinizing every detail of his face. The way his brows seemed to be perpetually furrowed, the sharp angles of his jawline, the wild spikes of his ash-blonde hair that no amount of styling could ever tame. He reached up and ran a hand over his cheek, feeling the roughness of his skin where tiny scars marred the surface from countless battles.
He’d been trying so damn hard to prove he wasn’t just an angry jerk, but maybe that wasn’t enough. Maybe it would never be enough. Being an asshole was tolerable, but an ugly asshole? Who would want to date someone like that?
His eyes started to sting so he pressed his palms against them, closing them tightly. He wasn’t going to cry. He refused to. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered the look in his friends faces, the shock, the amusement.
Bakugou turned away from the mirror, the sting of insecurity still there but buried just a little deeper. He wasn't going to let it break him. So what if he was unlovable? He was still going to be the Number 1 Hero, he didn’t have time for romance anyway. His brain betrayed him when a flock of green went through his mind. As if he would ever look his way in that manner. He was lucky enough he considered him his friend, he could never ask for more. His mom was right, no one would ever love him and he has to learn to accept it.