Most people would consider themselves lucky if they could recall their dreams. Katsuki did not consider himself fortunate when he woke drenched in sweat, recalling his vivid nightmares. He would wake up with his heart racing and the sweet scent of caramel filling his nose. One irrational move, and he could scorch his sheets again, and he didn't need Aizawa asking him prying questions about why he needed spare sheets.

With a heavy sigh, Katsuki pulled himself out of bed and tugged off his drenched shirt. His chest felt tight, and his mind was swimming; the nightmares and the thoughts should have passed, but they were still fresh and at the center of his mind. He ran his hand through his slicked hair, deciding to take a quick, cold shower and try to ease the night terrors out of his thoughts. It was still a bit early, and he wouldn't have to be up for another three hours, but there was no way that he was going back to bed now.

Not after he had that dream.

Katsuki doesn't know if he could call it a dream but a twisted memory. It had been clear as day to him, and Katsuki still shivered in fright from the events. He had been no older than ten years old, and he had gotten in trouble for mouthing off at one of his teachers (the old fart deserved it, and Katsuki would have done it again), so the school informed Katsuki that they would be informing his parents of his little problem. He brushed it off, thinking that his mother wouldn't say anything about the matter and that she would understand that he (Katsuki) was in the right and that there was no reason to punish him.

The walk home had been ominous, and Katsuki could feel his stomach twisting and churning with utter dread. His mother should understand that the teacher was out of line, and Katsuki only returned the same energy, so he should have been in the right of way, yeah?

When he stepped into the house, Katsuki swore that the temperature in the air had dropped several degrees, and his stomach turned once more. The house was so quiet that it frightened the young boy as he navigated the halls. Mitsuki had left a note for him, but he was too anxious to do anything. He was alone for hours, finishing his chores and starting his homework, praying that Mitsuki was in a good mood when she returned home.

It was late at night when she returned home, and Katsuki was in his room, finishing the rest of his laundry, when she came storming in with a belt in hand. The poor boy barely had time to react when the smooth leather cracked across his exposed thigh. He howled in pain, trying to move away from her wild flails, but that only made her angrier, resulting in more blows to whatever she could hit.

"I didn't send you to school to act a fool!" Mitsuki hissed; her jaw clenched as she brought her arm down and struck Katsuki over and over again until his legs were red with welts. Letting the belt drop to the ground, Mitsuki glared down at the shaking child before she spat out, "I shouldn't have to get a call from your teacher while I'm at work because you want to act like you're hard shit! Fix your face before I give you something to cry about!" she snapped before promptly leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

Katsuki felt so weak that day, and he didn't understand why his mother was so violent towards him. His legs stung for hours, and he was certain Mitsuki cut the skin, but Masaru hushed him up and attended to his open wounds. He made excuses for Mitsuki, saying they only punished him because they loved him and that he would understand when he was older.

Oh, or how it hurt them more than it hurt Katsuki. They weren't the ones left on the ground, massaging bruised and red skin after every beatdown session, but sure, they were the ones in pain afterward.

After that day, Katsuki made sure to train his body so he wouldn't cry from Mitsuki's beating and random attacks. It was a long and painful task, but the results were worth the blood, sweat, and tears. He could withstand Mitsuki's random smacks now, and he never flinched as much when she brought the belt down on his backside.

The ash-blonde didn't understand why he recalled that memory, but it left him spooked for a few moments. He inhaled through his nose, tossed the drenched clothes in the hamper, and opted for a cold shower. The tiles were cold as ice when he stepped in, and he never flinched as cold water sprayed his face and chest, soon dripping on the floor.

Most people tend to sing in the shower, while some have mock debates with shampoo and conditioner bottles. Katsuki tended to disassociate whenever he felt the first droplets of water rain down on his pale face. He felt like he was there, but he was no longer in the driver's seat; he was merely a passenger whether he liked it or not. The memories came and flew by like a bird in the breeze, without a care in the world or a second thought.

Once saturated in ice-cold water and effectively cooled off, Katsuki stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist. His body moved independently like a robot, automatic and stiff with each jerky movement. He stared at himself in the mirror, gingerly touching the puffy bags under his eyes and frowning. How long did he lay awake, wondering how to please his mother? How many nights did he stay up, silencing his sobs in his damp pillow until his throat was raw and his eyes burned?

It seemed there were too many, but Katsuki couldn't afford to lament the past. He would have to carry on with his head up high and with nothing but pride. If the others saw him falter, they would never let him live it down. It wouldn't matter if they noticed his flaws, for he knew they would only sneer at him, saying he deserved it. Or was that something his brain concocted on the spot?

He would never know, nor would he want to ponder that thought.

Glancing over at the clock, Katsuki frowned and dried his hair before tossing the towel into the corner of the room. He still had an hour before he needed to be up, but there was no point in lying down. Breakfast sounded like a good idea, but Katsuki didn't want to stand in the kitchen for so long; his stomach rumbled loudly, and he knew he could not neglect his health.

Dressed in appropriate clothes, Katsuki maneuvered to the kitchen, careful not to alert the other students or staff that he was up early. He shuffled through the pantries, set aside a large skillet, and retrieved the premade rice from the fridge. It wasn't as good as the usual stuff at home, but it would have to do for now, and he certainly wasn't complaining.

Cooking was a joy for Katsuki. It allowed him to expel more energy and focus his aggression on food rather than people. Surprisingly, Aunt Inko suggested culinary arts, and he happily took her up on her offer. Katsuki was always happiest when he could be in the kitchen rather than trying to tiptoe around his mother and avoid her explosive temper.

He turned off the stove, carefully removing the rice from the pot, and Katsuki damn near jumped out of his skin when he saw Todoroki in front of the fridge. "Wear a fucking bell, for fuck's sake!" Katsuki hissed quietly, carefully not to let the pot fall out of his hands, and shuffled out of Todoroki's way.

"I'm sorry," Todoroki said, moving out of Katsuki's way and watching him prepare breakfast. Those dual-colored eyes watched the ash-blonde move throughout the kitchen, carefully taking his figure in before he moved out of the way again.

Todoroki wet his bottom lip and found himself making eye contact with Katsuki. The two were quiet momentarily before Todoroki blurted out, "Why did you do it?"

Katsuki furrowed his thin brows. "Why did I do what?" he grumbled.

"Why did you bully Midoriya? What did he do to deserve it?" Todoroki quietly asked.

The blonde snorted, rolling his eyes before returning to his bento and placing the miso soup in a separate container. Everyone and their fucking mother was worried about poor helpless Deku. They all babied him and pulled excuses out of their asses to defend him; they would all tell Katsuki that he should act more like Deku when they didn't know how Deku could act.

"What did he tell you?" Katsuki sneered, raising his head. "Did he ever tell you how he was a weird fuck? Always pestering people about their quirks and walking around with his nose in that stupid ass book of his." He closed the gap between them, pressing Todoroki against the fridge with his fingers tugging at the thin, white fabric. "Deku ever tell you have he stalked me for years, always bugging me about my fucking quirk?"

Katsuki couldn't stop himself from talking, and the words fell out. It wasn't fair that people treated him like a monster and could do nothing right, while people like Deku would never face the consequences for their past actions because they were so good and would never hurt anyone. He could tell from the stern look in Todoroki's eyes that the latter didn't believe him; he wasn't surprised. No one ever believed Katsuki, so why should he waste his breath?

Letting go of Todoroki, Katsuki finished preparing the rest of his lunch and left the rest of the food for the others. His appetite had dissipated, and he just wanted this day to end.

━━━━━ 「𖨠」━━━━━

As expected, classes were a pain in the ass, and it didn't help that everyone was out to get him. Deku still hadn't arrived, but that didn't stop the others from playing God and taking his punishment into their own hands. It started with Bakugo switching to the back of the class, but that didn't bother him until it came to handing back papers. Coincidentally, they never had enough papers for Katsuki, so he would have to go to the front of the class while tripping over the fat bags that stood in his way. Hagakure's leg, but he didn't think anything of it until he stumbled, smacking his chin against the ground.

The teachers were still caring, though. Midnight rushed to Katsuki's side, sitting him up and checking his face for blood or wounds. When he grumbled that he was okay, she gently chided him and told him to see Recovery Girl and one of his classmates could give him the notes later.

If only she knew what was happening.

He hobbled to the nurse's office, gently pressing against his chin. It wasn't bleeding, thankfully, but it throbbed like a bitch. All he needed was an ice pack, and he could go back on his way, but Midnight was stubborn, and he didn't want to get into a fight with her.

Stepping into the office, Katsuki knocked on the door and handed the note to Recovery Girl. She hummed, reading over the note before pointing to one of the spare beds. "Take a seat right there. I need to get something from the teacher's lounge," she said softly, sliding out of the chair. "I won't be long, so stay there, Katsuki."

Katsuki didn't say anything. He laid down on his side, pulling his knees to his chest and closing his eyes to sleep. He hoped the dreams would be dark and faceless like most nights, but he couldn't sleep. He just lay there, his eyes shut, listening to the bell ring loudly.

He would have English, and Katsuki was glad he was missing out. Present Mic was a good teacher, but he had way too much energy in the morning; he was practically bouncing off the walls at any given moment and was too loud. How could someone be so energetic to teach at seven in the morning?

Now alone with his thoughts, Katsuki felt so small and helpless. He had never had a teacher rush to his aide before (except Midnight and Aizawa). He was still incredibly pissed that she had knocked him out at the tournament, and they chained him up like an animal in front of national television, but her hand felt nice on his cheek. Her eyes narrowed, and she examined his face and gingerly touched his bruised chin before she sent him on his way. The motherly gesture clenched his heart, and he wanted more of that.

Mitsuki was never gentle with Katsuki. Her actions and parenting were always rough and aggressive, always yelling at Katsuki to stop crying and demanding that he suck it up or else she would give him something to cry about. The threats scared Katsuki, and he soon learned to muffle his cries into the pillow rather than in his hands.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that only Auntie Inko had been gentle with him, but he never went over to the Midoriya house after his quirk manifested. Inko tried to visit, always bringing treats for Katsuki and letting the boys play in the other room, but Mitsuki always told Inko that Katsuki didn't need any more sweets, and Katsuki always shoved Deku out of his way. One time, Katsuki sucker-punched Deku in the face, and he wailed like a baby, holding his bleeding nose.

Deku never returned, and Mitsuki severely punished Katsuki for "hurting such a nice and considerate boy."

It was always about Deku, always about him. Hell, even his mom liked Deku over him, saying he was such a nice boy and how she got stuck with a brat for a son. It always hurt to hear his mom compare him to other kids, always wishing that she was their parents. Nothing he did was ever good enough for Mitsuki, and she always found something to complain about; he would just sit there with his jaw clenched, listening to her degrade him and talk about how great someone else's child was and how they never would cause her these issues.

They hurt; the memories that flooded his brain caused nothing but inner turmoil, and Katsuki hated every moment of it. For once, he wished for his parents to say they were proud of him or to treat him with the same kindness they showed everyone else, even if he was undeserving of such affection. Was that too selfish to ask for? To be treated like their son and loved as he rightfully should be?

When Recovery Girl stepped back into the room, she pressed an ice pack to his chin, patting his hand. "You can stay here for the rest of the class period," she said, hobbling back to her computer. "That looks like it's going to bruise."

"You can just kiss it, and I'll be better," Katsuki grumbled.

"I could, but I'm afraid I'm feeling a little weak, so my quirk won't work as effectively," Recovery Girl retorted, setting her cane aside. "Just lay there with the ice pack on your chin. You can return to class next period. I'll send an email to your teachers if you're late."

He couldn't argue with the nurse, now could he?

━━━━━ 「𖨠」━━━━━

Classes were awkward without Bakugo. Shoto tapped his foot, staring at his book as the others rambled and talked. They were reviewing their notes, asking each other what answers they got for each question, and occasionally, Denki would crack a dumb ass joke that had the others shrieking with unadulterated laughter. Present Mic had to gently remind the group more than once to stay on task, but he never got up to separate the group, so they all continued.

Shoto's eyes would flicker to the empty seat near the back before returning to his sheet, scribbling down the answer (or what he thought was correct) and continuing with his work. He was a bit worried for Bakugo; they forced him to the back of the class, and he took a nasty fall this morning, but no one offered to help him except for Midnight. Yes, Shoto was still angry that Bakugo bullied Midoriya in middle school and called Midoriya a stalker, but he didn't deserve all that. The plan was just to ignore Bakugo, not cause him harm or go out of their way to humiliate him.

He scanned over his classmates, silently judging them for their previous actions this morning. Jirou and Sero had been the closest to Bakugo when he fell, yet neither offered a hand to him nor bat an eye when he let out a painful grunt. Hagakure had been the one to trip him, and she was already at fault for going out of her way to humiliate and harm Bakugo. He scolded himself for not going to Bakugo's side and merely watching him trip; he was no better than the others, and he felt the shame tear at his stomach for not interfering.

Shoto never liked confrontation, nor did he want to be at the center of attention. He had too much attention for one lifetime and would prefer to fade into the background like a side character. His father had paid too much attention to him, often neglecting his other siblings, which led to his eldest brother's downward spiral, and Shoto hated every minute of it. He always hated how Endeavor would proclaim that Shoto would surpass All Might and secure the title of the number one hero and never considered his son's dreams.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking up from his textbook with a quiet. Shoto didn't want to get distracted from his studies, nor did he want to focus on his past, but these notes were confusing, and he still felt a bit sluggish after waking up so early. Lately, his dreams had become unpleasant, but he could never fully remember them. All he could recall were majestic blue flames that threatened to devour him whole and often left him sweating when he woke from the horrid nightmare.

Kirishima frowned, waving his hand in front of Shoto's face. "Are you okay, Todoroki, bro? You see a little off," he asked, laying his hand atop Shoto's.

Shoto swallowed, curtly nodding his head. "I'm fine. I didn't sleep well, that's all," he muttered softly, flipping to the next page in his book.

"You should nap when we return to the dorms, Todoroki. It'll make you feel better," Yayaorozu suggested with a hum, sliding over a small container of peeled tangerines with a delighted smile. She gestured to the snacks, popping the side off. "You can have some. Todoroki. I don't mind sharing with you," she grinned.

He lightly smiled, taking one of the slices. "Thank you," Shoto said, popping the sweet fruit in his mouth.

Kaminari stole pieces of the fruit, but neither Yayaorozu nor Todoroki said anything about his thieving ways and often went out of their way to hand Kaminari the small tupperware whenever he tried to reach for the fruits. The group continued with their work, making silly little jokes and playfully jabbing each other with their mechanical pencils whenever they purposely gave the wrong answer and apologizing to Present Mic when he had to reprimand them once again for being too loud and getting off task. They all had fun, laughing and teasing each other within their small social circle as they continued their work, and Shoto was grateful that he could find a friend group to socialize with.

Although, Shoto was beginning to worry that they might go too far with Bakugo. The tripping may be the only thing that would occur, and they would all just leave Bakugo alone until Midoriya returned from the hospital. That was the hope, and Shoto would have to tell the others about what Hagakure did because that wasn't right and would make her just as bad as Bakugo. Granted, they all were wrong for forcing Bakugo to the back of the class, and they would need to address that sooner or later.

He just hoped that the situation wouldn't escalate after the talk.