Chapter Three

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Finding a good time to talk with Bakugou was difficult, to say the least.

The kid was the first out of class every day, leaving no time for Shouta to ask him to stay. He was closed off, and often holed up in his room, meaning Shouta would have to specifically seek him out if he wanted to talk to him alone.

Perhaps it was for the best, that he had to wait. Midoriya made more sense to Shouta but Bakugou—even after all this time, Shouta knew next to nothing about how Bakugou's thought process might work. Talking to him about his extensive bullying of another student in the past was a delicate matter, one which Shouta wasn't sure he was entirely ready to handle. But, it was his job as their teacher to help, and help he would. In any way he could.

An opportunity presented itself to him a couple weeks after his discussion with Midoriya.

Shouta hardly slept, due to an incessant case of insomnia that had plagued him most of his life. Sometimes, he'd go get a cup of coffee at three a.m. and be greeted by the presence of another one of his students—possibly several. Bakugou, though, always went to bed at a decent time, and was rarely found outside his dorm room past then. Shouta couldn't recall a time when he'd seen Bakugou in the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning—until now, that is.

"Whatcha doin' down here, kid?" Shouta called out, voice slurring slightly from his palpable exhaustion. He shuffled over, preparing himself a large cup of black coffee.

If Bakugou was surprised by his sudden presence, he didn't show it. "Couldn't sleep," he grunted, avoiding Shouta's eyes.

Shouta hummed his acknowledgement, blowing on the mug of coffee and bringing it up to his lips to take a sip. The bitter taste awakened his senses. "Nightmares?"

This was a school full of heroes, and his class had seen their fair share of villain attacks during their time at UA. If they weren't even a little scared after all that, Shouta would genuinely be concerned.

Katsuki shrugged noncommittally. "Yeah, I guess. No big deal."

Shouta cocked an eyebrow. "If it's fucking up your sleep schedule, then it kinda is a big deal. Have you considered talking to a teacher about them? Maybe Hound Dog?"

"No thanks," he growled out. "I don't need your or anyone else's pity, old man. I'm doin' fine on my own."

"And yet here we are, chatting in the kitchen at 3 a.m. So, talk to me." Shouta probed gently. "What happened in the dream?"

His kid shifted awkwardly, an ever prominent scowl adorning his otherwise handsome features. "Can't talk about it. Shit's private."

Shouta took another long sip, nodding his head. "Alright. I'm not gonna force you to talk, Bakugou. But, you should find someone you can confide in. It'll make things a lot easier on you, trust me."

A tense silence permeated the air as Bakugou mulled over Shouta's words. He kept opening and closing his mouth, as though he were going to say something but changed his mind last minute.

Finally, he spoke, "I told Deku to jump."

Shouta furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

"I told Deku to jump off the roof. In middle school." More silence. "And I had a nightmare that he listened."

The choked up tone of Bakugou's voice didn't go over Shouta's head, although he decided not to comment on it. Midoriya had already told him about what Bakugou had said, of course, but hearing it come directly from Bakugou himself—the full gravity of the situation hit him all over again with the force of a freight train.

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