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Katsuki was not having a good day. The entire morning had been one annoyance after another, on top of his sleep schedule getting disrupted, so, yeah, he acted like his classmates were the most annoying people on Earth. Sure, it felt like he was going back on all his progress-- with Hound Dog, Kirishima, even apologizing to Deku last weekend.
He’d been on a roll, allowing his ‘squad’ to study with him and Kirishima, not blowing up-- literally and figuratively-- at the smallest inconvenience, letting Deku take the last apple, etc, etc, the list goes on and on.
But he’d stayed up much later than his usual bedtime last night. In the beginning, it was so he could finish up an essay due at the end of the week, but as he was walking to refill his water bottle-- a metal one, fuck you-- he’d heard a couple of voices and spent the rest of the night scheming.
After nearly committing a late-night murder, of course.
See, he had walked down the stairs into the common room when he’d heard the protesting voice of the vice president. She seemed panicked, almost, and very, very uncomfortable.
He’d walked into the kitchen, not even faltering in his pace. On the opposite side of the room from the door, was Yaoyorozu, backed into a corner. When Katsuki had walked over to the sink to turn on the tap, he noticed that the little stain was walking toward her, not even being subtle about eyeing her crotch and tits.
(Katsuki hadn’t noticed him before because he was too short to be seen over the counter.)
Yaoyorozu had given him a panicked look, and Katsuki internally sighed.
“Hey, shit-stain,” he had drawled. The pervert jumped, not having heard Katsuki enter the room.
“Do you need something?” the rat bastard asked, like he wasn’t trapping Yaoyorozu to the wall in an extreme breach of personal space, which was something Katsuki himself, cherished. He knew the pricelessness of having a large enough buffer between himself and the idiots that made up most of his class. “Or are you just gonna stand there and be a cockblock?”
“Excuse me?” Katsuki asked, voice low. He didn’t exactly want to wake everybody up. Deku was creepily aware of his strict sleep schedule, and then he’d ask Katsuki about it, acting all worried, and Katsuki, not having the patience to deal with that at the moment, wanted to avoid it at all costs. It seemed to do the job, however, and the soon-to-be glass of wine looked more nervous than he would’ve if Katsuki had yelled. “ I’m not the fucking cockblock here. The girls being repulsed? That’s all on you. Back off now, and I might just let you live.”
“C’mon man!” the purple pervert pleaded. “Just turn the other way, and ignore this. I’m trying to get laid tonight!”
“Get out of my sight.” When the evil minion didn’t move, Katsuki lunged at him, hand outstretched like he was prepping for an explosion. The pile of dog feces squeaked and scrambled away, but no explosion came.
Yaoyorozu had a hand pressed to her chest, right above her heart, but she instantly relaxed as soon as Katsuki scared the garbage away.
“You okay?” he asked gruffly.
She nodded, but tears were welling up in her eyes regardless. “I- Thank you, Bakugou-kun. I was-- well, I was getting nervous when he wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Katsuki gave her a side-eye while filling his water bottle. “I know for a fact that you could fucking punt that piece of shit into the sun. Why didn’t you deal with it yourself?”
“I was prepared to fight back if necessary”-- she gestured to her pajama shirt, where the bottom two buttons were undone-- “unfortunately that did very little to dissuade him.”
“You shouldn’t fucking have to,” Katsuki grumbled, screwing the lid back on tight. Yaoyorozu seemed to be making tea, maybe to calm her nerves. “I hate that little perverted sewer monster.”
Yaoyorozu startled a bit, then gave a wet chuckle. “You know, I think you were the one I least expected to say that.”
Katsuki looked at her oddly. “Really?”
She flushed. “I don’t mean that to be rude, I just-”
“Yeah, no, I get it.” Katsuki shrugged. “I mean, I’ve made him fucking cry at least three times this year just by looking at him, and I’ve wanted to remove him from existence for a fucking very, very long time, but I thought that honor should probably go to one of the girls.” He paused, looking thoughtfully out the window at the darkness. He slowly turned to Yaoyorozu. “Do you want to get rid of him?”
She took a moment to think. Katsuki didn’t mind. She wasn’t like the rest of the losers, who would ramble aimlessly on about whatever struck their fancy, just to fill the silence. At least she thought before she spoke.
“I mean, I don’t feel comfortable with him around,” she said finally. Her voice was quiet, almost like she was ashamed. She looked up, and apparently not liking the look on his face, continued in a panicked tone. “And I’m sure the girls would side with me, and most of the boys, except maybe Kaminari? He pushes some boundaries too, but not nearly to the extent of Mineta. I just . . . I don’t feel like I can be the one to make that choice. He made it into the hero course, so he must have some potential because otherwise, Aizawa-sensei would have expelled him. I can’t just ruin his future heroic career just because I don’t feel comfortable around him.”
“He already ruined his chances by being a massive creep,” Katsuki muttered. “How about this: give me a day, and you won’t ever have to see him again.”
Yaoyorozu turned to him, horrified. “You can’t kill him!”
“Fine,” Katsuki groaned. “I will dispose of him in a completely legal way.”
Yaoyorozu paused. Then she smiled. “Well, I suppose I can’t exactly stop you, can I?”
Katsuki nodded and started walking back to the common room.
“Just so you know,” Katsuki began, leaning against the doorframe, “Kaminari would back you up. Just last week I- uh- taught him about casual misogyny in the work environment. He should be getting better soon. He’s trying at least.”
“Thank you for that,” Yaoyorozu said. “And for defending me against Mineta.”
“Start a fucking timer,” Katsuki had replied, smirking.
So, yeah, he’d spent the rest of the night compiling evidence and writing enough opinion essays on the topic of sexual harassment, assault, and homophobia-- most of which was just the dick being massive fucking incel-- to fill an entire folder that was nearly four inches thick. Then he’d decided that if he was doing this, he was making sure that the failed abortion would never return to U.A. and that it’d be near to impossible for him to sign up for any other hero school in the area.
Yaoyorozu had told him that she didn’t want to ruin M*neta’s hero career, but Katsuki knew that everyone’s life would be better once the deformed fetus was removed from their lives.
Katsuki was more observant than people realized and had a very good memory. Purple Pervert was done for.
(It was one of his better slideshows, to be honest.)
So, now he was sitting at his desk, waiting for Aizawa to get to the classroom so he could request an audience with Nedzu. He had decided to go straight to the top of the food chain with this request.
Hmm.
Maybe he could get the piece-of-grape-gum-that-was-constantly-stuck-to-the-bottom-of-his-shoe to listen to the presentation he had prepared. The look of devastation on his face would be very amusing.
Finally, Aizawa stalked into the room, light on his feet. If Katsuki didn’t know the man, he would probably assume he did something similar to heroics-- underground, of course. He was quiet, almost too quiet, and it had taken a lot of work to not jump whenever the man appeared at his shoulder.
Katsuki slid out of his seat, holding both his folder and his laptop. “Sensei, is Nedzu available?”
Aizawa stared at him, slowly slipping into his sleeping bag. Katsuki could feel his classmates' gaze on his back. Nobody spoke for a good minute or two. As usual, Katsuki could see no outward emotion on his teacher’s face.
“Why?” his teacher asked eventually, dragging the word out.
Katsuki held up his personal pet project. “I’ve got something to show him, is all.”
“Bakugou, usually people only ask to see the principal when they are looking to switch courses or ask for a lighter workload in all of their classes. Do you need the extra support?”
Katsuki took a deep breath, just like Hound Dog taught him, but rage still boiled in his gut. “No! I just-- ugh. I was working on this thing last night, and I need Nedzu’s opinion.”
Aizawa stared at him but eventually nodded slightly at him. “I don’t think Nedzu has anything going on this morning, but knock to be safe. You have”-- he checked his watch-- “roughly half an hour before your first class. Unless Nedzu excuses you, I expect to see you back before then.”
Katsuki nodded and sped out of the room. Nedzu’s office was a five-minute walk, then the waiting for the incel to join them . . . Katsuki hadn’t had time to practice, but he knew it probably wouldn’t take more than thirty minutes. He could go fast.
Whatever. Nedzu likes to have intelligent conversations, and since the only ones capable of that would be Katsuki and the rodent/bear/dog/principal, he was sure his absence could and would be excused.
Katsuki rapped on Nedzu’s door, entering when he heard a squeaky, “Come in!”
Nedzu’s office was meticulously organized, with many file cabinets and cupboards no doubt full of papers and files. Each door or drawer was labeled with a different colored sticker; a code that made absolutely no sense to anyone by Nedzu, Katsuki was sure.
The principal was sitting behind his desk, which had been modified to accommodate the animal’s height.
“Ah, Bakugou!” Nedzu said, neither voice nor expression betraying his true feelings.
Nedzu had Aizawa beat in that department. While Aizawa would sometimes give their class a small smile when he thought no one was looking, or his lips would quirk upward whenever Katsuki or Jirou made a particularly scathing remark, Nedzu gave them nothing. Maybe his animalistic features had different tells than humans, or maybe Katsuki just hadn’t spent enough time with him to figure it out.
“I must say, I’m a bit surprised to see you here!”
Katsuki slid into the seat across from Nedzu, setting his folder and laptop on the desk. “Do you have a projector?”
Momo looked up from her work to see Bakugou’s desk suspiciously empty. She hoped he wasn’t committing first-degree murder off in some random hallway somewhere.
(Her fears were alleviated when she noticed Mineta was still in the classroom. They appeared again, for a completely different reason, when she realized he was trying to peek up Mina’s skirt.)
The girl noticed and sped over to where the so-called ‘Bakusquad’ was gathered, never even ending her steady stream of positive chatter.
Momo leaned over to Midoriya, who’d allowed her to borrow one of his hero analysis notebooks to study for the homeroom period. “Have you seen Bakugou?”
He looked up briefly to scan the room. “I think I saw him talking to Aizawa earlier, so he probably got permission to leave.”
Momo nodded. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the phone started to ring. Momo glanced at Aizawa, who seemed reluctant to get up-- or open his eyes--, then at Iida, who was passing back papers. He looked back desperately, somehow looking completely out of control.
Momo nodded and walked over to where the phone hung on the wall. “Hello, Yaoyorozu Momo of Class 1-A speaking. How may I assist you?”
“What’s up, Ponytail?” Bakugou drawled from the other end of the phone call. “Need you to send Mineta Minoru to Nedzu’s office so I can verbally flog him with an audience.”
Momo gulped. “Are you sure this is wise?”
“I mean, yeah. I’ve already given enough of my presentation to intrigue Nedzu, and I wanna see the maggot’s expression when he realizes what’s happening.”
“Presentation?” Momo asked, exasperated.
“Send the-smell-of-durian-personified my way. I’m gonna stand behind the door and scare the shit out of him. It’ll be great.”
Momo sighed. “Alright.”
She hung up and suddenly felt very tired. Why was she chosen to help lead this class? At this rate, she was going to go grey by twenty, or at least before she graduated.
“So you see, this human incarnation of global warming-”
“It’s because I’m hot, right?”
“No, it’s because you shouldn't exist. Now, as I was saying-”
Momo was so, so, so tired.
Sure, she had technically given Bakugou permission to go through with whatever crazy plan he was carrying out, but she wasn’t sure what the repercussions of his actions would be.
She knew that no one in class 1-A-- or the entire hero course, for that matter-- would mind too much if Mineta came back with a little more fear in his measly little body, but how would Nedzu react to Bakugou’s coarse nature?
He’d said he had prepared a presentation-- which should have surprised Momo more than it did-- but how much of that presentation was cursing and death threats? Would Nedzu punish both of them: Bakugou for his violent actions, Mineta for his repeated harassment of the girls?
Momo didn’t want Bakugou to be punished for this, especially if she had told him it would be okay.
“Aw, come on, man, this is all just conjecture!”
“Mineta, please quiet down and listen to this very well-put-together presentation.”
Momo wasn’t sure what she could do to help. Could she vouch for Bakugou? Could she take the blame?
She wasn’t sure if Bakugou would even let her. He was remarkably stubborn on the best of days, and their conversation last night had convinced her that he would go to the ends of the earth to remove Mineta from their life.
It wasn’t like the boy was an actual threat, right? He was short, and perverted, sure, but he was also in the top ten of their class. Would he turn out to be a good hero? If Bakugou’s plan succeeded, would Momo be at fault for ruining a hero’s career?
Could she do that to someone, even someone as despicably as Mineta?
“All I’m saying is that this Red-Spotted Purple caterpillar-”
“What the fuck?”
“Language, Mineta.”
“As I was saying, this mimicry of a pile of dog shit doesn’t deserve to have a place in the hero course.”
Momo made up her mind.
She was going to walk to Nedzu’s office and try to stop this.
If not for Mineta’s career, then for Bakugou, so he wouldn’t get in trouble with Nedzu because of her.
(She had encouraged this, goodness, how had she encouraged this?)
She could see all the outcomes: Mineta getting expelled, and never being able to find another hero school to take him in; Bakugou getting punished for his foul mouth and tendency for death threats, which he would maintain until the end; Mineta being allowed to remain and doubling down on his efforts to get one of the girls alone; etc etc.
All the options all flashed through her mind as she walked to Aizawa’s desk, noting his narrowly opened eyes.
“Sensei, may I go to Nedzu’s? I think Bakugou may do something foolish, and I-”
His eyes cracked open further. “What . . . on earth . . . do you mean?”
Momo winced, wringing her hands together. “I think he plans on getting Mineta expelled, and he said something about a presentation-”
At that, her teacher let his head fall back, and he let out a loud cackle. Conversation in the room halted as everyone turned and stared at Aizawa, who had stopped laughing, except for an occasional chuckle. “Good for him.”
Momo’s jaw fell open. “What if he succeeds? What will happen-”
“Yaoyorozu,” Aizawa interrupted, “Mineta has had this coming for a long time. I’ll tell you something if you promise to keep it a secret.”
Momo nodded, confused.
“I would have expelled him on the first day of school if I could. Nedzu has restricted my expelling abilities after one too many angry letters from parents. Honestly, with Mineta’s cowardly and perverted behavior, he wouldn’t have made it anywhere in the hero industry.”
Momo gaped at him.
“Now that I’ve shown all of my evidence-- keep in mind that other students may have more-- we can turn to my final section: what I have taken the time to appropriately dub, ‘ Bakugou Katsuki’s Extermination Guide For Measly Little Cockroaches Who Won’t Die No Matter How Many Times You Curbstomp Them In Combat Training.’”
“Th- That’s just a picture of a guillotine!”
“And?”
“Bakugou, while I appreciate the initiative, we cannot murder students. Do you have any . . . alternate disposal methods?”
“Dis- Disposal?”
“Of course, Nedzu. On this next slide, we see another method of disposal for the douchebag-who-takes-the-time-every-morning-to look-like-a-wombat’s-anus.”
“Bakugou, that's a trash compactor. U.A. needs a way to get rid of him, without him dying, that’s also legal.”
“Ugh, fine. Here’s a third method.”
“Ah, public humiliation, very nice. I’ll make note of it.”
Momo sat at her desk, looking straight at the door, waiting for Bakugou’s return. Her conversation with Aizawa had convinced her that Mineta being expelled was not her greatest worry. She was more concerned with Bakugou’s status. Would Nedzu be lenient with Bakugou’s temper and cursing and tendency to threaten anyone in a nearby radius?
Or would Bakugou’s mission to get rid of Mineta overpower his constant anger? Momo knew he was getting better with containing his rage, but would that hold up in a small room with Mineta?
Jirou leaned on the edge of Momo’s desk, worry crossing her features. “Hey, Yaomomo, you okay? You're staring at the door like it did something wrong.”
Momo sighed. “I’m a bit worried about Bakugou.”
Jirou quirked an eyebrow. “Well, Bakugou’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
“He’s with Nedzu right now, and I don’t know-”
Mina gasped and stopped in her tracks. “Blasty’s with Nedzu? Did he do something? Try to murder somebody?”
Momo shook her head. “No, nothing of the sort. We had an odd conversation last night-”
“Oh~” Hagakure interrupted, “sneaking out to visit your lover? How scandalous, Yaomomo!”
Momo shook her head, feeling her cheeks burning. “No, no, it’s nothing like that! Mineta had followed me to the kitchen when I went to grab some tea, and Bakugou walked in and scared him off.”
“But what does that have to do with him being in Nedzu’s office?” Kaminari asked from behind her.
She startled, and realized almost the entire class had crowded around her desk, eager to hear the story. “I- I don’t-”
“Oi, give her a bit of space,” Bakugou interrupted from the doorway. He only carried his laptop now, with his folder being held by Nedzu, who stood to his left. Mineta was right in front of him, barely coming up to his waist.
Mineta’s eyes were red, and Momo could see clear tear tracks on both of his cheeks. She froze.
Was she supposed to feel bad? It seemed kind of cruel to be feeling relief, but the look on Mineta’s face could mean only one thing. Bakugou didn’t seem angry, so it was safe to assume Nedzu had taken his presentation well.
Nedzu nodded at Mineta. “Grab your bag, please. Then I’ll have you escorted to the dorms where you can call your parents and then begin to pack.”
The room felt full of anticipation.
Momo could almost hear the unspoken question: What happened?
Nedzu and Bakugou walked up to Aizawa’s desk, with the teacher still having a sort of odd . . . gleeful look on his face, like he truly enjoyed seeing Mineta walk pitifully to his desk and back out the room.
Nedzu jumped onto a chair and plopped the folder onto the desk. It landed with a resolute thud! like the gavel in a courtroom.
“This is currently all the evidence against Mineta Minoru, as compiled by Bakugou Katsuki. It is more than enough to expel the former, especially with the opinion essays about how Mineta’s actions may affect our students, both in the short- and long-term.”
“Essays?” Kirishima wondered aloud, looking at Bakugou like he put the stars in the sky.
Nedzu nodded. He looked like he enjoyed this. (Momo wouldn’t be too surprised.) “You should look at the slideshow he put together as well. It was very well done. I am particularly partial to his ‘ About The Author’ section and his ‘ Bakugou Katsuki’s Extermination Guide For Measly Little Cockroaches Who Won’t Die No Matter How Many Times You Curbstomp Them In Combat Training,’ where he details over twenty-five ways to dispose of Mineta, both permanent and not.”
Aizawa sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Kid, when Yaoyorozu said you put together a presentation I thought she was talking about the minimal-effort-too-many-transitions-middle- school-esque presentation, not a fucking dissertation.”
Bakugou shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure it was convincing enough. You should really read the ‘Extermination Guide.’ I thought you might enjoy it. Number one is a guillotine. I could provide it, if necessary-"
A silent wheezing laugh filled the room. Momo wasn’t sure if it was from Jirou or Kaminari, but she could see the effects of the last ten minutes on all her classmate’s faces.
The girls looked free. Momo was sure the gravity of the situation was hitting all of them now, and she knew they were realizing what it meant. For the first time since joining U.A., they’d be able to wear what they wanted, do what they wanted, say what they wanted, all without worrying about Mineta’s presence. Now, they wouldn’t have to lock the locker room door behind them, they wouldn’t have to worry about Mineta touching them, or looking up their uniforms, because he was gone. Well and truly gone.
Bakugou was right. He really was like a cockroach, always coming back, no matter how many times you try to get rid of it.
(Looking around, all Momo could think was, It looks like Bakugou brought the bug spray. )