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Izuku liked to think he had settled in quite nicely within the dynamic of UA’s staff.
Exhilarating moments of mentorship with the students and more private moments of sweet voices, warm bottles, and restful naps with his caregivers.
He tolerated it, liked it even. That’s not to say he wanted it to be public knowledge, though.
Izuku had always been insecure, hard not to when the world was beating you down. He had his chance at greatness, and with it fleeting memories of that worth and self-assurance that had slowly withered away along with one for all.
He was working on saving the shreds of that growth, but it hadn’t gone far, so when it came to his new position and the vulnerability that came with it, he was well, kind of embarrassed.
His caregivers did nothing to embarrass him, and he knew their care was helping that frayed and hurt part of him, soothing the ache of his disappointments and woe.
They were his caregivers, though, their relationship wasn’t banking on their respect or impression of him, because their impression was that he was a baby, no need to hide his troubles when they were there to take the load off.
That dynamic didn’t work with his peers; fake smiles and enthusiasm he would have rather left behind in high school were painted on when he would interact with his past classmates. Hoping to keep their respect and avoid their pity.
He loved his classmates, and he liked the autonomy that came with being an adult, but it was a heavy burden, one he was starting to leave behind in favor of that softer, sweeter, more genuine side of him.
So while he knew being small really was the best, he would never allow his classmates to see that side of him for fear of losing the relationships he had worked so hard to build with them.
Unfortunately, UA wasn’t the most private spot to regress away from heroes.
Guest speakers were coming in frequently, they seldom came to the teacher's lounge but when they did Izuku’s Papa or Daddy would usually dust him off, age him up, and have him stay big in his classroom, scooping him up when the coast was clear and letting him play with his Aunts and Uncles.
Izuku wasn’t aged up and shooed away to his classroom though, he was resting against Uncle Snipe and being read to while he languidly sucked on his pacifier, scarred fingers playing with a stuffed bunny Kurose had gotten him.
“DEKU?”
Izuku’s stomach dropped, a cold ache running through him as his body went still, turning towards the door to see the last person he wanted catching him with a pacifier in his mouth. Bakugou Katsuki.
Izuku will be the first to admit that he had a little bit of an obsession with the explosive boy, Kacchan’s opinion had always been the most important one in his eyes.
He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to admit to such a strong person that he was weak enough to need something like this.
He could feel the fuzzy edges of his regression strengthen in his panic as he shot up, running past Bakugou and out of the door, barely registering the voices shouting after him as he looked for a place to hide away from it all.
Somewhere dark, small, safe.
Oh, perfect.
***
Of course, Bakugou knew Deku had taken a teaching position; he had been subjected to many drunken phone calls where the freckled man spluttered out panicked mumbles about how he would be working with their past teachers.
He was no stranger to Izuku’s drunken ramblings, he was actually uncomfortably familiar.
He was hoping, at the very least, Aizawa would sniff out what was going on and put a stop to it when the nerd took up the job.
And that’s what he thought had happened when the calls had slowly stopped. He just thought Izuku had gotten the lecture of a lifetime, like when they were brats and was doing better.
Doing better didn’t justify ignoring him completely, though, so he showed up to UA, intent on speaking to and checking on the loser.
So he did and oh….
Maybe he should have let Izuku come to him when he was ready because what the fuck was this.
There his longtime friend (rival) was cradled against Snipe sucking on a fucking pacifier with a stuffed bunny.
And then before he could stop it, he shouted out a confused “DEKU?”, concerned when the nerd fled the room with a look of terror on his face, observing as the few staff members scattered around the room shouting after Deku nervously.
“Who allowed you on campus? Furthermore, who allowed you into the teacher's lounge? I’m having a word with Nezu..” Ectoplasm said, an anxious twitch to his fingers as he confronted the blonde.
Red eyes watched as Thirteen and Snipe raced down the halls searching for Izuku while Power Loader stepped up to him.
“Listen, I know you aren’t the same terror you were when you were a student, but I need you to be gentle with Midoriya, keep an open mind. It’s helping him, we are helping him.” Power Loader paused away, “ You kids have been through a lot, especially Izuku, and I know he wasn’t ready to tell any of you about this, so please keep it quiet and support him. After all he’s done for you, it’s the least you could do.” Power Loader lectured, heading out of the lounge to look for the boy and leaving Katsuki alone with his thoughts and an odd sting of regret.
He obviously fucked up, it was just a question of why he fucked up.
Why was Deku in here sucking on a pacifier and looking better than he has in months?
Why did he freak out when he was discovered, despite it seeming to be common knowledge among the staff? Was this why Deku was ignoring him? What did it have to do with the baby shit?
He felt kind of guilty thinking about the nerd's panicked face, maybe he shouldn’t have abused that guest ID he had gotten for a lecture he was helping with next week.
When the ID had come in the mail that morning, he knew it was his chance to see the nerd despite his radio silence. It was now becoming increasingly clear that Izuku was hiding something from him, something he wasn’t ready to share, and he ruined that.
They had gotten better, they really had, that’s why he was man enough to be open about his concern for Deku and wanting to check on him in the first place. Now he had done something that might put all that ugh ‘growth’ in jeopardy because he was maybe a little too rash in his attempts to see the other man. He had fucked up and he needed to reiterate to the nerd that he… cared.
So he’d join the hunt for him and as much as he hated to say it apologize for catching him off guard and maybe with that he’d finally get answers on why he was sucking on a pacifier in the first place.
***
Izuku Midoriya was hiding in a vent.
He shamefully can not say this is the first time he’s done this, but it is the first time he’s done it here, surrounded by his caregivers who weren’t aware of his aptitude for hiding in vents.
He was apparently a bit too big for this now, judging by the ball he was forced into and the scraped knees he had sustained climbing in.
He had, for the most part, accepted his role of being a kid again, that creeping embarrassment sizzling into a low hum.
It felt so demeaning at first, like he should be in charge of his own decisions, but he had hesitantly come to accept that maybe he wasn’t doing that great when he was in control.
If it was up to him he would be coping with beer after beer, spiraling into that dizzy, giggly drunkenness that rarely stayed nice for long before turning into crippling hangovers and drunken sobbing that despite his better judgment would repeat itself the next evening. A constant spiral of impaired judgment and messy emotions.
Bakugou and some other friends were embarrassingly aware of how he chose to cope, he had honestly been so out of it those past few months before his new position that he had almost forgotten the looks of growing concern and annoyance with his antics.
Lately, it had been easy to forget when he was focusing on that soft sweet place he would settle into where all he needed to do was lean into a warm figure while his mind relaxed and not through the means of inebriation but through the means of pure trust for someone to protect and care for him.
And now Bakugou knew about that vulnerability.
It wasn’t like he was completely ashamed, but he valued Bakugou’s opinion more than maybe anyone else in his life; he had always looked up to him.
Kacchan and he had been doing well, a mutual respect growing where mistrust had once existed, but that didn’t mean he was ready to see how the other reacted to this facet of his life. The regression was new and different, something he wasn’t sure Kacchan could understand or would even be willing to, Kacchan had always lashed out at the unknown, and he was scared this would be no different.
His thoughts continued to spiral, full of anxious scenarios in which he was ridiculed by his closest friend as he cried softly, a hesitant littleness still floating in his head and making the scrapes on his knees hurt all the more.
***
Maijima Higari loved his new role as a caregiver.
He was hesitant at first, he had the same itching need to care for someone like his coworkers and having it be a former student and one of those former students, students who were more likened to child soldiers than kids at the time of their UA attendance, felt like soothing balm on an old wound.
Higari hadn’t been exceedingly close to Midoriya specifically or really any hero course students, but he had fond memories of green curls nonetheless, it was hard not to have an attachment to one of the kids who saved them all.
Regrettably, he had slowly watched after the war as the kid was drained of that childish optimism more and more until he stopped seeing him altogether, the famous hell class finally graduated, and on to better things, except for Midoriya, he came to find out.
They had requested someone to care for, and it felt like fate when Midoriya had applied to be a teacher, maybe it wasn’t really applying to be cared for...but he had been convinced at some point that it was within the kid's best interest.
Oh, and how he had loved the creative flurry of new gift ideas for the little one, creating lush cribs and such when he was finally settled into a hesitant acceptance as their somewhat unwilling baby.
It had been Hound Dog that convinced him, a long-winded speech about age regression therapy and its benefits, along with a somewhat creepy and depressingly long analysis of the kid's traumatic life and subsequent unhealthy coping mechanisms.
So yeah, at some point, he had felt maybe everyone was right to think Midoriya needed a little nudge in the right direction, and as long as the kid didn’t get exponentially worse, he didn’t feel the need to put a stop to everyone’s fun.
Midoriya would end up being better off, hopefully.
Thinking back, they really had failed him, even if he only knew very little about the intricacies of it all, but from contemplative and regretful whispers from Aizawa, he could make out a tale of discrimination and bullying that happened even before the traumatic events at UA.
The main perpetrator was Bakugou, not that it surprised him.
Even at UA, Bakugou had been brash and cruel, and he sometimes wondered even now why Midoriya would forgive the explosive boy to the point that he was considered a best friend of his.
In those moments of adult conversation they would have Izuku would always slip in an adoring comment about the blonde.
So, on a certain level, he knew that things between the tumultuous pair had calmed considerably but an overprotective part of him was still reeling at Bakugou’s rude entrance and the ensuing panic it caused his little one, his little one who had run off and was hiding, probably a storm of anxiety by now.
He had come to care greatly for the little boy who had flourished so much lately, and it hurt to think this could set it back.
Midoriya truly was doing so much better under their attentive care, tired eyes now filled with a brightness you could only gain from true rest, and sad expressions replaced by languid smiles; it was very fulfilling, even if he was only one of many caregivers.
Hizashi and Shouta, of course, had done the brunt of the caretaking work, easing their Izuku into that sweet place that he so often settled into now and without much hesitation or fight.
If Midoriya’s progress was hindered by this, he would set off his bots on Bakugou with no hesitation.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he pulled out his phone, shooting a text to Nezu to send him access to the cameras, prepared to painstakingly scan through each one until he could catch a comforting glimpse of green.
Eyes glued to his phone, he passed by a frantic Snipe and Thirteen, wondering briefly their thoughts on the unsavory reveal of their smallest’s vulnerability.
***
Snipe was pissed and with a glance towards Kurose, he could tell they felt the same a barely perceptible stiffness to their spine as they searched the hallways for the youngin’.
He had been one of the staff members who pushed Nedzu to get them someone to care for when he noticed not only himself but also his coworkers closing off into a dark apathetic headspace at the departure of the kids they had on a certain level trauma-bonded with during the war, he didn’t specifically need it to be one of them they cared for but it was a nice surprise.
And now their smallest, little coworker has shuffled away somewhere full of fear and shame that he just couldn’t let continue.
He had always found Bakugou to be an endearing kid, like a feral cat of sorts. That soft spot for the kid didn’t mean he was thrilled with the casual invasion of the teacher's lounge.
He knew for a fact that Bakugou had abused the guest past that was meant for next week and he was pissed they didn’t get to inform Izuku of it beforehand as they’d planned.
Well, they really hadn’t planned on Bakugou kicking open the door like he owned the place.
He angrily reminisced on how the green-haired man had stiffened in his lap as hands once wrapped in the fake fur of his stuffy shook wildly and as green eyes went huge in fear. Before he could grab the kid, he was darting out of the room, following the surprised shout of his name that had come from the blonde intruder.
He can’t say he wasn’t expecting an uncomfortable discovery of Izuku's regression to happen at some point, but this early on was sure to hinder a bit of the progress they’ve made with the sprouts' regression. Especially if by the end of this, Bakugou was less than understanding towards the odd coping mechanism of his friend.
“Hizashi and Shouta are going to be quite upset about this, you know.” Thirteen commented as they frantically searched empty corridors.
“I reckon they will be, yeah, and how do you feel about it?” He questioned, wondering what was running through the rescue hero’s head.
“I am sad, Izuku is vulnerable and sweet and wholly undeserving of this invasion that’s been had…but on some level, we as a group have pulled this vulnerability out of Izuku, exposing this rawness previously and desperately hidden, and now we have failed at protecting it.
It is an odd, familiar, and depressing feeling. I can’t say that was Bakugou’s intention, I can only gather that this is a lingering insecurity from years past
And while caring for Izuku has helped us..me so much it has also made prevalent so many unsavory memories, I feel guilty really and I desperately hope Hizashi and Shouta do not take this event as I have, I think they would be hurt the most if Bakugou’s probable rejection broke those small pieces of Izuku into even tinier shards.
At some point, we may not be able to piece him back together, and I see the potential for Bakugou to be that catalyst.” Thirteen confessed the heavy weight of their words shifting uncomfortably in the air.
Sometimes Snipe forgot how introspective Thirteen was, a silent and steady figure he relied on but seldom heard speak about deeper interests and worries, which he was now regretting, hearing about the guilt they had been carrying.
He had felt very similarly, as much as they weren’t at the forefront of those attacks and it's repercussions back in the day, they had taught those kids later on in their student careers.
Building a bond with the sweet heroes-to-be that had too-haunted eyes and regretting their inaction as uninformed as they were at the time.
Thirteen was right to worry about Aizawa and Yamada's reactions; if Izuku did break from this, it would hurt them desperately.
He just had to hope that Bakugou really had changed and that he would be gentle with the fragile man they had all claimed as their own.
***
Bakugou winced as he overheard the depressing confessions of Thirteen to Snipe, hating the impression he had made back when he was in school, and even deeper than that, hating that they were right to worry.
If he were who he was back then, he absolutely would have torn Izuku to shreds over this.
He was awful with change and even more awful at being sensitive to it but Izuku out of everyone in his life deserved that sensitivity.
He watched the retreating figures of Snipe and Thirteen wondering why they were doing such a shit job of looking for Deku.
He had grown up with Izuku, and if you knew anything about Izuku and he figured they did with how they were honest to god snuggling him, you would know to look in the vents or other similarly cramped odd spaces.
He smiled slightly at the memory of the first time he had done it back in preschool, during indoor playtime.
They had been playing an intense game of hide and seek that had been going well until no one could find Deku, and by the time they had told a teacher, the boy had already been gone for an hour without a green curl in sight.
The teachers had panicked calling Izuku’s mother basically in tears as she rushed over to the school as soon as possible, still sporting scrubs when Izuku had fallen from the fucking ceiling out of a vent and into his mother's arms as he grinned happily.
So if these extras were actually close to Deku, they should know he’s probably in the vents.
Scanning the hallway he quickly found the entrance to a vent and he peeked in, finding no trace of the nerd but faintly hearing sniffles echo through the metal chamber, ah, so he did still hide in fucking vents, typical.
He listened closely tracking the sound of soft crying until he was in the support department hallways, quickly spying the entrance to the vents that sat innocently ajar, a red-shoed foot poking out.
“De- Izu, are you there?” He questioned as gently as he could, which wasn’t very, but he’s sure the nerd appreciated the effort anyway.
His red eyes watched as the foot quickly tucked back into the vent, replaced by a watery green eye peeking out sadly.
He felt uncomfortable seeing those eyes after so long, finally clear and sober (thank god), but still tear-filled, and he knew it was because of him.
“Kacchan… not supposed to see me,” Deku whispered with an odd quality to his voice, fragile.
He hesitated, not really knowing how to comfort Izuku and how to say everything he really wanted to without sounding like an asshole.
“Well I think we’re past me discovering whatever this is Izu and I’m (ugh) sorry for that…can you come out of there and talk about it with me, I’m not mad I swear on my mom or better yet your mom we both know your mom is an angel among men.”
He heard a watery giggle as Izuku shuffled his torso out of the vent, “Mama’s an angel, Kacchan!” Deku giggled, finding his earlier words funny.
It was weird to see Izuku like this, though not entirely unfamiliar, it was like seeing an old friend who had never really left but more just changed into someone new, someone still entirely them but different.
Seeing this old, softer version of his friend made his heart soften in ways he thought it couldn’t and would usually think was a medical emergency, but he was far along enough in his therapy journey to recognize it as affection.
Izuku looked weary to an extent, but was still acting similar to how he was in the teacher's lounge earlier, so it was safe to say he wasn’t entirely himself. He was sure it would be much harder to convince him to exit his little hovel otherwise.
Sighing in relief as Deku started to shuffle out of the vent, he was startled when green eyes clouded over in pain, a soft cry leaving the pouted lips of his friend.
“What’s wrong, nerd? Fuck did you manage to hurt yourself in that rusty ass vent, now the Senseis are gonna murder me for real.” He muttered as he crouched down to pull Izuku into the light, hoping to get a better look at him.
“Hurt Kacchan… Owie,” Izuku added helpfully from where he sat, sniffling on cold linoleum.
He still wasn’t quite sure what was going on but whatever baby shit the nerd was using didn’t seem to just be for looks if Deku was willingly saying owie in front of him, he would be mortified in his right mind anyway.
His brain seemed to be trudging along at an embarrassingly dreadful pace trying to work out the ‘why’ for all the weird behaviors but he had a feeling he would have to get answers elsewhere, the most he could do was just let the nerd know he wasn’t going to stop being friends with him just because of… whatever this was.
I mean he was friends with Izuku that first time around when he was sucking on pacifiers.. well they were literal babies but what’s wrong with tolerating it once again.
Trying to discern what exactly was an ‘owie,’ he glanced over the nerd, realizing quite quickly what he meant when he spotted bloodstained knees covered in little scrapes, most definitely because of the loser's propensity for the gremlin behavior that is hiding in vents.
“Oh shit uh come here..” he said, usually he wouldn’t give a shit about a tiny fucking scrape but the sad green eyes looking up at him because of a skinned knee were filling him with the stress he could only compare to that time his mom made him hold one of his little cousins when they were a baby, the stress of having to be responsible for and care for someone vulnerable.
Izuku sniffled, not hesitating a moment longer to almost tackle him to the floor, sitting in his lap at an only slightly awkward angle.
It was weird having the weight of Izuku in his lap. Although Deku had definitely slimmed down, he was still covered in a light layer of muscle that rested heavily against him as he tried to shimmy a hand into one of his many pockets, digging out a pack of bandaids themed after him.
Izuku’s eyes zeroed in on the hero merch immediately, tears slowly stopping as he made a grab for the bandages.
“Woah nerd! Wait a minute I’ll do it for you just fucking sit still,” He explained trying to play keep away as the childish version of his friend pined after the brightly colored bandaids.
Izuku huffed but was otherwise content to sit still as Bakugou gently placed the explosively designed bandages on scraped knees.
They’d definitely need to be washed later, but preventing any more blood from making contact with the school was definitely a good idea, not that he was against making Nezu bring someone in to clean up the biohazard.
Izuku hummed happily at the bandages, still sitting in his lap, his frame stiffening slightly the longer they sat there, which he could only assume meant the nerd was finally coming out of whatever childish mindset he was in.
It was basically confirmed Izuku was back to normal when he glanced at the freckled face and noted the absolute horror painted across it, but learning from the mess of the past hour or so, he held on tight around Izuku’s torso; no way was he running away this time.
No more avoiding him.
***
As much as the regression had been helping him in this moment of adult clarity, he wanted to go back in time and refuse to let anyone in. Refuse to let them draw out that small side of him just so he could avoid the awkward reality he’s in right now.
A reality where he was cradled in Bakugou Katsuki’s lap, sporting band-aids with his best friend's likeness all over them on his measly, skinned knees.
Testing the grip on his waist, he tried to dart away, an annoyed twitch to his eye when he was held firmer and then subsequently pinched in the annoying way Bakugou always tended to do when he was feeling especially done with his behavior.
“We need to talk.”
“No, we really don’t actually, I think we need some time apart. Have you considered divorce?”
“We aren’t fucking married you shitty nerd so I can’t say it’s come to mind, but seriously Izu I’m not gonna flip on you I’m past that okay? You know it’s hard for me to be patient so can we hurry the fuck up with the explanation and my obvious acceptance of whatever is going on.” Bakugou groaned out, obviously at his limit for the sensitivity he had been showing up until this point.
Kacchan really had been trying; he could tell even under the warm haze of his regression.
He shifted uncomfortably out of Kacchan’s lap, sliding onto the cold tile next to him an obvious sag to his shoulders as he melted into the wall, looking away awkwardly.
“I don’t know what you want me to say…” he confessed in a small voice. He cringed at the way the words came out; it felt like a confession of weakness with how his voice trembled.
Kacchan sat next to him, looking straight ahead, sagging against the wall in tandem with his earlier action, a contemplative look on his face.
“Mostly I want to know how you are, I was worried about you, ya know? We all were worried about you, but I’m pretty sure only eye bags, and I really knew the extent of your issues.
Does Auntie even know? Last time you were talking to me you had a real problem Izu, like to the point where I was gonna have you admitted somewhere to detox from all that shit you were drinking.
You’ve obviously stopped, but have you actually dealt with what got you started on drinking in the first place? Are you healing? And like actually healing not that fake “healing” you did back in high school just for the sake of our friends,” Bakugou interrogated an unusual dip in his brows that had his stomach twisting uncomfortably at the outward sign of concern, for as emotionally constipated as Kacchan was it was a glaring sign of how fucked up he had really been acting back then.
“I- I’m sorry Kacchan I really fucked up, I’m so sorry you had to see me like that… I wanted to think that if I showed everyone that I was dealing with it on my own, that I wasn’t some fragile head case, they might still keep me around even though I didn’t have a quirk anymore..” he confessed with a wobble to his voice that betrayed his oncoming tears.
With the loss of one for all he knew he had to be better, be almost unchanged so that maybe just maybe they would think nothing had actually changed and that he was the same Deku who was full of enthusiasm and who wasn’t chipped by the shattering force of war and most importantly the same him that had a quirk.
He had done a really shit job of keeping up that image he’s realizing.
“No one fucking cares about you having a quirk which I can understand how that must sound coming from me of all people, we don’t expect you to be the same person even if you did have OFA we’re adults not brats anymore Izu, we are growing, healing and changing for the better.
So when you stayed the same and more than that got worse, of course, we were worried because you deserve to grow and heal like the rest of us.”
“You deserve to be happy, Izuku.”
He continued to stare straight ahead, making out the blurred figure of Kacchan in his peripheral vision as tears rolled down his cheeks in an endless stream, as he felt the weight of Bakugou’s hand on his shoulder, a steady reassurance that Bakugou wasn’t going to leave.
“I… thank you, I’ve been really stupid, huh? I kept worrying that everyone would push me away now that I was different, that I ended up pushing everyone else away, and in my absence, I haven’t gotten to know who you’ve all become, not really, anyways.
You’ve grown up a lot, Kacchan. I’m proud of you.” He told the blonde, smiling a bright grin that Bakugou hadn’t witnessed in months.
“Shut up, nerd…” Kacchan replied with a bright blush to his face that made him want to laugh.
They shared a moment of contented silence that was promptly ruined by Kacchan’s final interrogation on more recent matters, like Izuku’s embarrassing predicament in the teacher's lounge.
“So… what is with the baby stuff, I’m not fucking judging I basically just confessed I’d always be there for you and I want you to be happy so like just tell me what it is,” Kacchan asked as he internally cringed at what he was about to explain.
“I guess it’s my way of healing, it’s ugh, I don’t know… I’m happy this way is what you need to know.
It really is like I’m a little kid again, Kacchan.
When I’m like that, I don’t have to worry about keeping up appearances or worry about villains.
I feel protected, safe, and honestly, it’s like I’m back to that version of myself before all the bad stuff happened, before the war, and even before the constant discrimination; it’s freeing… It’s changing me into someone softer, someone ready to accept that maybe things can be okay again, that maybe I can have a do-over.” He tried to explain, not actually knowing all that much about the regression as he’d only gotten short explanations from his caregivers. They seemed to know a lot more, seeing as they introduced him to it.
“So they're treating you alright then? You’re honestly happy?” Bakugou questioned from beside him a searing intensity to his gaze.
“Yeah, Kacchan, I’m happy, and everyone is treating me well, I swear! You can ask Zawa about it more if you want, but.. I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell anyone, as much as I’m happy this way it’s a vulnerable part of myself that I’m still shy about and even you seeing it, someone I love was hard. I truly am exposed that way when I’m regressed as much good as it’s doing it has the potential to harm me just the same.” He informed.
He loved being small, and it has really helped piece him back together in ways he didn’t think were possible.
Parts of himself he was sure were swept away completely had been found and glued back together with gentle hands.
“As long as you’re happy, I’m okay with how you choose to heal, well, when it doesn’t involve alcohol, which I swear if you didn’t tell anyone here nerd I’m tattling so hard… And I’d like to ask the hobo some questions just to make sure they’re being nice to little Deku, he was my best friend once you know, I have to make sure he’s alright,” Kacchan added making him smile to himself, as rough as Kacchan was around the edges he had been surprisingly understanding through all of this and it was comforting to hear Bakugou’s special brand of protectiveness popping up even for this new part of himself, it felt like acceptance.
Yes, Bakugou accepted him..
He felt exhausted after the emotionally taxing conversation, knowing somewhere inside himself that he should be letting everyone know he was okay and leading Bakugou to the principal's office where Kacchan was sure to get a lecture and probably a more in-depth explanation on his regression, but he just felt too content.
Content with the hallway that felt like band-aids and acceptance.