Not Yet

XXXI: Suspicion

He didn't particularly care about Aizawa-sensei's return. He didn't particularly care about his newfound friends. He didn't particularly care about sensei's out-of-character behaviour.

However, he did care, when he accidentally got a glance at a file his teacher was reading.

It was during lunchtime, when most of the students were out of class, heading hastily to the cafeteria to be able to get today's special desert.

Bakugou loitered in classroom, not feeling particularly hungry or desperate about any sweets. Not that he got to eat anything delicious at home either, it was always instant noodles or some other canned food. On the rare occasions, if ever, when he felt like putting any effort in what would last for a few seconds of enjoyment, he made himself a hot-dog at best.

His dad did start coming home earlier than usual, at eight or nine o'clock. He was trying to "re-bond" as he would call it.

Katsuki had no intention in making that task an easy one.

Masaru had tried various activities, thinking that working together would be more effective than the awkwardness of their 'talks', which were more like silent staring competitions than anything.

Among these activities was cooking. He had tried convincing Katsuki to join, but his stubbornness had no boundaries. That was when Masaru had decided to cook alone, hoping that at least a collective dinner would do the bid.

He had ultimately failed miserably, turning everything he touched into dark matter.

He was even close to burning the curtains once.

A shudder traveled down Katsuki's spine at the memory. He would rather not have his dad cook today. That's why he decided he had to eat something at school if he wanted his stomach to not give him away at home.

He glanced around, realising that it was only him, half-n-half and shitty hair in the classroom. Aizawa-sensei had went to fetch coffee or some shit.

He stood up grudgingly, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath as he draged his feet heavily towards the door.

He could see from the corner of his eye that half-n-half was looking down at his homework, not giving much attention to his surroundings, while shitty hair laid his head atop his folded arms on the desk, uncharacteristically silent and seemingly out of energy.

In his haste, Katsuki bumped into Aizawa's desk and caused few folders to smack to the ground rather loudly compared to the quiet atmosphere.

The other two boys startled and looked up at him.

He ignored their looks and muttered random profanities as he bent down to gather the paperwork in his hands.

And that was when it struck him.

The familiarity.

He froze in his crouching position, glaring at a single name and a hazy picture beside it.

The form of a sleeping boy, exactly as he looked like in his dreams, never having aged a day.

He crumpled up the paper in his sweaty palms, barley keeping his quirk at bay to not explode the thin material.

The shaking of the paper was visible, yet he tried to not think about it. It surely wasn't his hand that was trembling, was it?

He bore holes with his eyes, as the kanjis of the familiar name seemed to mock his distress. The kanjis that read 'Izuku', yet that he could only see one thing in them;

"Deku..."

******

Aizawa's first day was not as awful as he had thought it would be. He was relatively tired, but nothing out of the ordinary for him.