Chapter Text
Practical field training shouldn’t always mean they are attacked as soon as they leave campus. Bakugou would have rolled his eyes if it weren’t for the multitude of villains descending upon him and his classmates. He launched himself forward at one villain using an offensive blast to both attack and propel him toward another target. As he landed back on a clear spot he heard the telltale sounds of projectiles spattering the ground around him. He threw up a blaze of ash that thundered loudly around him, fending off the stream. As the dust settled and the barrage ceased, Bakugou spied the shattered tips of arrows around him. He felt the tiniest bit of heat pool in his cheek and clicked his tongue. A single arrow had made it through his burst and nicked him. He rubbed the trickle of blood off on his gauntlet and spied the balding villain, perched atop a nearby building, preparing a new quiver. Bakugou let a wicked grin spread across his face before blasting himself right at the man. He waited to throw his palms forward until he spied the frightened whites of the villain’s eyes.
Hovering over the knocked out form, Bakugou surveyed the battle. It was coming to a close and few villains were left. As he scanned the battle field he felt weakened and the corners of his vision began to blur. He grumbled to himself and tried unsuccessfully to wipe his face. He chalked the issues with his sight up to excess ash and stepped forward to drop back down into the fight. With a controlled burst he landed with ease and grimaced as Todoroki sealed the final villain in ice. He stepped forward, ready to growl out a complaint, when he felt the vignette enter his eye line again. He stumbled a step forward and the vignette rotated with him, spiraling a quarter turn before returning to its initial position. Bakugou tried in vain to reach for his head, but felt the ground rushing towards him instead. While his vision was dark, his mind was bright with confusion. He could hear Deku’s grating voice shouting out for him and other extras murmuring. He let out a groan to alert the idiots he was still conscious. A male voice shouted for Todoroki and Bakugou tried to will himself to protest, but none came.
Lukewarm water poured over his head and he let out another groan. As he blinked his bleary eyes open, he spied pink and black knees. He let his eyes close again and forced them open with more gusto. Uraraka was immediately in front of him with Todoroki just beside her. Beyond them stood a menagerie of his classmates and Deku’s green form running up with Aizawa in the background. Bakugou’s senses returned fully and he dry-heaved, the vertigo subsiding.
“Back up,” Aizawa’s commanding voice rang through. “Uraraka, Todoroki, is he stable?”
“He’s coming to. He doesn’t seem to be injured…” Uraraka responded back immediately.
“Head injury? He’s got a cut on his cheek…” Todoroki responded evenly.
“You’re the one with the head injury… half…and half bastard…” Bakugou grunted, pushing himself up. Uraraka held out her arms, but didn’t touch him. He swatted her hand away as he sat back.
“He’s fine,” Todoroki responding in a cold tone.
“Got dizzy…” Bakugou grumbled, looking away.
“You’re going to the infirmary just to be safe,” Aizawa ordered, already beginning to turn away to review his other students. Bakugou snapped his eyes to protest, but Aizawa shot him a dead-eyed glare demanding otherwise. He glared back at his legs, debating whether they would support his weight to stand.
“I’m sure you’d be fine on your own, but a little weightlessness can go a long way…” Uraraka started, still kneeling beside him. He was ready to give her an unsure glare, debating accepting her offer when he met her eyes. His vision blinked as if she fired a flashbulb off in his face. The full spectrum of white dissipated and his vision rushed back, coated in a thick pink film. He could hear a whimper come out of his mouth and cursed the sound. “Bakugou!?” He could hear her shout, but felt himself slump forward again, this time silence surrounding him.
The soft harmony of breeze and birds wafted in to his ears first. His first thought stated that the window must be open. He shifted his nose, taking in the overly clean chemical smell that denoted infirmary. Bakugou scrunched his face up at the thought, remembering he had passed out twice. He let his eyes drift open and was thankfully met with the regular spectrum of color. Half-lidded, he glanced around the room. Recovery Girl sat at her desk and his curtain was drawn open. As his senses returned, he could hear the soft ramblings of Aizawa just outside the door, presumably on the phone. He let out a wheezy breath to alert Recovery Girl to his now conscious presence. She looked up from her notes and gave a little scowl before hopping off a large stool.
“How are you feeling, dear?” she asked kindly, waddling up to him. He grunted at her in response. She tutted at him before continuing, “I tried healing you up, but it didn’t seem you sustained any severe damage. That little cut on your cheek is all gone though…” Bakugou reached up at the mention and brushed a hand over the now smooth skin. “From your symptoms it would seem you might have received some trauma to the inner ear?” She mused, studying him carefully as Aizawa returned.
“Ah, you’re awake,” Aizawa noted lazily. Bakugou responded with another grunt, crossing his arms. Aizawa took a seat near the entrance and observed the blond. “You’re uncharacteristically quiet. Maybe you did receive head trauma.” Bakugou snapped to glare at his teacher, but Recovery Girl interjected.
“Now Aizawa, we already ruled that out,” Recovery Girl fussed and moved back over to grab her notes.
“I just want to get out of here,” Bakugou grumbled, testing his neck lightly. He was wary of the movements, definitely not ready to take another humiliating tumble.
“Recovery Girl is going to run a few more tests so you’ll be staying overnight,” Aizawa responded, his eyes drifting shut.
“But-!” Bakugou hissed at the thought, but Aizawa opened one eye silencing him with another withering stare.
“I’m tired and I have a ton of paperwork after our class’ latest run-in. If everything checks out then I expect you in class on time tomorrow, fair?” Aizawa stood, his sleepy expression already mourning the loss of a seat.
“Doesn’t sound like I have a fucking choice…” Bakugou mumbled to himself, angrily tugging at the sheets.
Aizawa nodded and turned to Recovery Girl, “I wish you luck.”
“No, no, he won’t give me trouble! Will you, dear?” She glanced back at Bakugou and through her joyful expression seeped a dark threat. It unnerved Bakugou and he nodded weakly. He yearned to be back in the dorms and away from his unhinged authority figures.
Though she promised to only be a few doors down, the infirmary had an oppressive caustic feeling in the darkness. It took several hours after she had shut off the lights for sleep to take him. When it finally came, it strangled him. Bakugou found himself dreaming in an encapsulating kaleidoscope of blacks, whites, and pinks. There were shouts and screams that twisted out of unseen mouths. He shot awake several times drenched in sweat and twisted up violently in the pristine white sheets. He tried scrubbing his face with his hands, but it left a chemical scent behind. He wiped off the residue in vain and moved to re-open the window from the afternoon. The cool night air helped hush his clammy skin. He felt pale and drained and every so often he was sure everything was pink when he blinked. He pummeled the thought down and moved to take a fresh bed, leaving his soiled sheets cascaded across the room. The fresh air helped as he was able to get in a few hours of sleep.
The next morning Bakugou awoke oddly refreshed. Recovery Girl was already at her desk and the pile of sheets he had crumpled in the night gone. She ran a few more tests and his newly recovered strength prevailed. She cleared him and he moved out of the building at a slow pace. Once he hit the fresh morning air, he took to a light jog that burst into a full tilt run, testing to make sure his facilities were fully recovered. As he arrived back at the dorms, he was satisfied with the progress and slipped upstairs unperturbed.
Once he reached his dorm, he glanced at the clock and nodded to himself. He swiftly grabbed his shower caddy and uniform and jogged back downstairs, pointedly ignoring his classmates questioning faces. He thanked the gods that Kirishima trained early and Kaminari slept in, pushing the boundaries of their class times. He scrubbed himself swiftly of the dried layer of sweat and roughly dragged a towel over his head. He glanced at a mirror as he dressed and nodded at the reflection. His gaze pulled toward the clock, and the miniscule amount of time that remained before class, before grabbing his things in a heap and running out.
He threw the door to the classroom open with a minute to spare and his classmates surveyed him with curiosity. He moved to give them his usual sweeping glare before he landed on Uraraka’s brown eyes. His vision stuttered again, but did not white out. In the distant recesses of his mind, he registered the school bell ringing and Aizawa asking him a question. Bakugou felt trapped, rooted to the floor and Uraraka’s gaze. Her eyes swirled with worry and blinked nervously. Bakugou was sure he was no longer blinking and while staring into her pupils watched pink slowly swirl around the edges of his vision before taking over completely. Swallowing was the last action he felt in control of as he shifted back, watching through his eyes as if staring at a TV screen.
“Bakugou, what is wrong with you!?” Aizawa demanded loudly from the right.
“I’m sorry Aizawa-sensei, there is just one thing I need to say before we start class.” Bakugou could hear his voice come out in a disembodied way.
What the fuck are you doing!? That’s not me you dipshits!!!
“Uraraka… I know this may seem sudden, but really it’s something that’s been on my mind for several months now…”
You don’t have shit to say to her!! Stop using my fucking voice!!!
He could hear the murmurs of his classmates and Aizawa’s blood red aura seep up beside him, his wraps floating menacingly.
“Uraraka… I love you,” Bakugou’s voice announced, a hand held out to her earnestly.
What…
The class erupted into sound. There were cheers and jeers. Midoriya’s head seemed to burst and wheeze out a thin layer of steam.
…the…
Uraraka cycled through ten shades of red as Ashido turned and screeched at her about how long this had been going on. Uraraka desperately denied the insinuation, but was swept up in the chorus of students.
…fuck!?!!?!?!?
The pink shroud faded as he felt his body constrict under the constraints of Aizawa’s wraps.