Author Note: Well almost everyone in the fandom knows this idea has been floating around the fandom for quite some time, but I haven't read a story yet that I find really writes it how I enjoy. This will start with the discovery of Katsuki's quirk and follow him from there on. This will be a slow-burn fic and will be decent length as Katsuki battles with not only himself but everyone around him. Most of the fic is written from Katsuki's perspective, so the rating may go up as #Bakugou swears a lot

Currently: Unbeta-ed, so there may be a few mistakes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Boku no Hero Academia, sadly enough.

Better than You - Chapter 1, Prologue

Fascination twinkled and danced in his eyes, lighting up as his palms snap-crackle-popped to life. A small firework show at the tips of his fingers, leaving him to stare in awe as his heart thrummed in barely contained excitement.

He faintly registered his mother's fingers roughly tousling his hair in encouragement- his father stumbling into the room in alarm as Mitsuki expressed her pride a pitch too loud.

Katsuki couldn't hear anything, nothing else existed except him. Him and his now discovered quirk. He was amazing. The sparks in his hands ran hot and while he could feel the heat, it didn't hurt. He was invincible. He would use this to burn down anything that stood in his way to greatness. He'd show everyone.

Turns out the first thing in his way was Deku.

They'd been friends since before they can remember, but 'friends' would be a stretched term. Stupid Deku is so easily amused and interested in everything, it's like he's doing it on purpose just to rub it in his face. That Katsuki isn't good enough to hold his attention and that blooms irritation within him like nothing else.

As much as he would loathe admitting such, Katsuki was never very good at not expressing himself. He was important, and that made what he felt important, he wasn't going to let anyone ignore him, especially Deku. This usually resulted in him showing his displeasure very clearly; kicking, punching, pinching, yelling, insulting and now surprise scaring him with his explosive quirk.

Only Deku didn't fear him. His eyes would brighten, and his chubby, freckled cheeks would raise as a pearly white smile grew on his face, baby teeth hardly filing the gaps.

"You're so cool Kacchan!"

Of course he was, he was the greatest.

When they were five, Deku came to school one day looking like a ghost was haunting him. His eyes were puffy and red around the edges, his steps dragging slightly as he quietly scuttled over to Katsuki on his side of the playground. 'Like a kicked puppy,' Katsuki thought- insult on his tongue, ready to throw Izuku's way like a ball he knew he couldn't catch.

Deku beat him to his words and stuttered quietly, fumbling pathetically over his words as he fidgeted, shoe scuffing the dirt beneath them and twiddling his fingers like they were tied together.

"H-hi Kacchan, I went uh, to the doctors yesterday with Mama a-and they...they said-"

He paused, freezing like a small animal in the face of danger and his eyes darting around for an escape route.

"I'm-"

Katsuki's impatience gave out.
"Spit it out already stupid Deku! Can't you even speak properly-"

"-quirkless.."

They both flinched as the barely audible word escaped in the wind and sliced through them.

To say Katsuki didn't take it well would definitely be an understatement.

For the most part, Mitsuki Bakugou and Inko Midoriya were aware of the dysfunctional and unmethodical relationship between their sons, Inko, in particular, left almost constantly conflicted. Her son looked up to Katsuki like he hung the moon in the sky, nothing but pure admiration despite the other tormenting Izuku at every chance he got. But that was before when the punches and pinches were quickly followed by laughter or overconfident smiles, a blatant childish cry for attention.

When Izuku came home that day, busted lip quivering as tears swelled and streamed down his flushed face, messy hair windswept from running, dirt scuffs covering his uniform- Inko cradled his head on her shoulder, muffling his sobs and struggling to suppress her own.

Mitsuki wasn't sure what to expect when her son cannonballed through the front door, slamming it behind him with a startling noise and marching up to his room with heavy, angry stomps. Mitsuki let out an exhausted sigh,

"DON'T SLAM DOORS, DAMN BRAT!"

The silence was followed by another bang as the wooden frame on Katsuki's door rattled.

Later that night, Inko phoned Mitsuki to tell her what she assumed had transpired between Katsuki and Izuku. Despite her own son's desperate and hurried defence of the other boy, 'I just fell off the playground' wasn't enough that she could let this one go, her hands were tied.

Mitsuki knew they had to talk to Katsuki, but she decided on further consideration to leaving the task to Masaru. Whatever had made her son beat up his only friend was obviously a delicate issue, and she knew better than anyone that mother-like-son, neither was very good at dealing with fragile matters. The cliche left a bad taste in her mouth, but it was no denial that she had no clue how she'd ever manage without her husband.

It was at no one's surprise that Katsuki didn't listen to his parents. Well, not entirely anyway. He didn't beat up Izuku anymore, but he did avoid him like it was the only other option to stop himself from pummeling the smaller boy. Skirting around him at school and letting his lip twitch in irritation as he threw an insult.

Deku of course, bounced back like nothing had occurred. It looked so easy for him, it was as if Katsuki hadn't punched him square in the face at all. Like it didn't hurt, and his words didn't affect him -like he was better than Katsuki despite the fact he was quirkless.

Seeing the twerp's radiant and carefree smile made his teeth grind until his jaw hurt. Because how dare that worthless Deku thinks that he was anything more than the dirt beneath his feet, anything more than a pebble to crush.

How dare someone so broken pretend that he could be friends with Bakugou.

His quirk flared to life with his frustration, unable to take anything out on Deku, who was busy being watched under the teacher's hawk-like gaze. What had happened last time was known by every student by the end of the lunch break, the situation only escalating further when his parents found out. He wasn't going to make that mistake again.

"Son, do you want to talk about it? We heard what happened with you and Izuku-kun, that wasn't very nice of you. We're-"

'-here for you.' His father had said. It made him want to scream at him because why the hell is he being treated like he was broken and needed help- when that stupid, worthless Deku was the broken one.

He bottled up his anger until after school, vibrating with barely contained energy like shaken soda ready to blow. He took it out on the neighbourhood park first. The joints in his hands popped as loud twin bursts of fire erupted to life, the cap blowing off is temper with a crack. He loved using his quirk, feeling the burning muscle deep, it was the closest thing he'd ever known to accurately express himself.

He'd destroyed the park within a week, and public complaints began floating around. After that, he practised his quirk in the backyard, the only complaint being made by one of their neighbours,

"Stop that loud noise!" Words wobbly and loud pitched.

"Shut it you old hag!" Was his only reply, shouted through the flimsy fence separating yards. Why was she bitching about it anyway, she's probably half deaf already like most old people. It's not his problem.

Izuku noticed the change in Katsuki first. At school, Katsuki was always loud; loud to answer before anyone else, loud to drown out any noise other than himself and loud to make sure he always had eyes on him. Izuku, of course, was no exception, after all, it was still hard to do anything but admire the sheer confidence his friend had. He had enough courage for two, which was good- because Izuku wasn't sure he'd ever be able to be that certain of himself.

Katsuki hasn't so much as stepped within a meter of him in at least a year, but his words still hurt.

"Get away from me, I don't want to catch your uselessness." He would sneer.

Lately, his words didn't just poke Izuku's bruised self-esteem, they got louder too. A tone a little too much as if he'd never quite understood the concept of an 'inside voice.' He had no patience for anything said that didn't match the volume he, himself used, commonly snapping back at people with an annoyed expression, the corners of his mouth downturned in disgust.

"What?!"
"Ehh, the hell are you on about?"
"Oi! Speak up, you ain't worth me bending down to your level."

It's like he wanted the world to adjust its volume because it wasn't worth him straining his hearing even slightly.

It was probably him being arrogant.

Somewhere along the line, Izuku realised that he wasn't the only one that had noticed the change in Kacchan. The usual groupies that trailed behind the overconfident boy had grown few in numbers, mainly in fear- because being yelled at for almost everything wasn't exactly pleasant. No matter how amazing Kacchan was at everything, it wasn't worth being around should you accidentally step out of line and face his wrath. It was apparent that since Katsuki had started gravitating away from the timid boy, he had lost a significant point of venting his life and his peers, parents, teachers and now public areas- were dealing with the explosive backlash.

Surprisingly enough, the worst situation that had become the norm in their lives often occurred in class. The teacher would be speaking while writing on the board, but if for any reason he wasn't facing the students when he asked Kacchan a question on the topic, Bakugou would ignore him. He'd continue to write in his notes as if he was stuck in his own world of concentration- which makes sense as his grades are nothing less than perfect, and it's hardly believable than anyone with a lousy attention span could achieve what he has.

It was only when he noticed the prickle of gazes on his back that he slipped his glare from his notes to find the teacher looking back at him expectantly.

"What?" He'd shout in accusing annoyance, startling those close enough with the sharp sound barreling through the classroom silence.

"I asked you a question Bakugou-kun, could you please answer it?" The teacher straightened his posture. Well used to his student's unpredictability by now, he almost needed to physically brace himself for it.

"Ehh?! No you fucking didn't!"

"Language, Bakugou-kun. Now please answer." The teacher broke through Katsuki's retort with a stern voice. Izuku shrunk further into his seat, shoulders folding in on himself. This wasn't going to end well.

"You never asked me a damn question!" Katsuki scowled darkly as his patience burned, physically evident as his palms beginning to smoke.

"Bakugou-kun! I will not tell you again, language!"

The legs of Katsuki's chair screeched as they drew harshly across the hardboard flooring. "Fuck you!"

"The office! Now!"

The class went silent as the boy got up and stamped his way to the door, breathing heavy and face red with fury. Bakugou never got in trouble. Ever. He got scolded almost frequently for his crude language, but it was only recently he seemed unable to turn it down and keep his patience in check for even the smallest situations.

What confused Izuku more was that he knew beneath Kacchan's swearing, and his evident annoyance, there was genuine cluelessness. Like he really didn't believe that the teacher had been speaking at all.

Both Mitsuki and Masaru also noticed the change in their son. They didn't mind that he had destroyed their backyard. If it was what it took to keep him from taking his anger out on Izuku again, they were willing to sacrifice it. Neither of them had ever been into gardening, so they weren't too upset.

Except instead of channelling Katsuki's tempter into the soil, they watched as he grew more erratic by the day. He'd snap at them almost frequently, slam doors and stomp around the house like he was insecure about not being loud enough for them to hear his every move.

They started getting calls from the school; complaints about his language, mostly. They tried to speak to him about it, but the situation only lead to a repetitive shouting match between Mitsuki and Katsuki over the dinner table.

"Do as I say, not as I do, you damn brat!"

"Then why do you do it!?"

"Because I can!"

"Then why can't I?!"

Masaru rubbed at his temples with a light pressure, you'd think that after all these years he'd get used to the shouting, but apparently not.

The calls from the school got more frequent, and they were starting to get desperate as to why their son was so enraged almost constantly. They tried to take him to a child therapist under the school's recommendation, but once he had stepped into the waiting room, things became disastrous as the cogs aligned as to where he was.

"Fuck you! I'm not- I'm not broken! " He shouted, his tantrum boiling over with dangerous vigour as his hands threatened to burn anyone that stopped him marching back through the carpark. The only reason Mitsuki gave in to driving him back was the knowledge that her son was determined enough he'd try and walk if he had to.

By the time he was nine, they had started to become extremely concerned for their son. He outright refused to talk to them about it, his only plea was the absolute belief that they were asking because they thought he was 'broken.' They tried talking to a parent help centre, just in case it was something they were doing, but they were only told he was 'going through puberty early, and his hormones were a little out of whack.' Told to watch his diet, be patient with him- and sent on their way like they hadn't been desperate for any form of an answer for years.

His grades dropped at school and they can only remember the absolute fury as their son stormed through their already annihilated backyard, yelling about how 'it was meant to be perfect, his notes were perfect, and it wasn't fucking fair.'

They were quick to question his frustrations, desperate and willing to take any exaplanation their son would give. "Katsuki, what about this test wasn't fair?"

He huffed, dropping his chopsticks onto the table, curry barely touched.

"The test had things on it we weren't taught," Katsuki mumbled under his breath, eyes locked onto the table.

Mitsuki sends a look Masaru's way before continuing.

"Are you sure you weren't taught it?"

"Yes! Of course I do! My notes are perfect copies of the board!" He snaps, standing from the table and trudging back to his room.

Mitsuki later calls Inko. They haven't spoken in months, both busy with whatever life has thrown their way.

"Hi Inko, it's Mitsuki, do you mind me asking Izuku-kun a question?"

"Oh hello, Mitsuki! Lovely to hear from you, if everything alright?"

"Everything is fine Inko, I'm just trying to clear something up for curiosity sake."

"Oh, if you say so, give me a second to put Izu on the phone for you."

"H-hello? Auntie Mitsuki-san?"

"Hi there spud! Need 'ta ask you a quick question, on the test today, were all the answers in your notes?"

Izuku pauses, probably thinking over every question he can remember.

"I uh..think so..? From what I can remember everything in the test was covered in the last classes on the topic.." His voice wobbled, uncertain and shy as he grows quieter.

"My brat says his notes were perfect copies of the board, but he didn't do so well on this topic, do you have any idea why that may be?" Oh, how angry he'd be if he knew she just said that.

"U-uhmm, well most of the theory wasn't written on the board..S-so I mean that could be it...Ka-Kacchan doesn't really write a lot down when sensei speaks.."

'Why would that be? Does he the think that his teacher isn't worth listening to?' Mitsuki wonders.

"Ok, thanks, Izu-kun! Don't worry, this'll stay between us, take care!"

"O-oh, t-thanks Auntie, bye for now."

Later, when Mitsuki asks Katsuki what he thinks of his teacher, his answer was far more expanded than she expected, so it was clear the issue was bothering him as well. It was reassuring to know she may actually get an answer from her son this time.

"He always whispers! I can't hear a fucking thing he says because he's worse than a mouse! He calls me out on things and asks questions that aren't even on the damn board! It's stupid!"

Why would his teacher whisper? Katsuki should be able to hear him just fine, she knows because they were notified that their son had to be moved to the front of the classroom for 'behavioural issues.' Izuku could obviously hear their teacher just fine.

Masaru later suggests that maybe Katsuki should have his hearing checked, luckily able to hide it under the excuse that 'It's been a while, so it's just a routine health check.'

The 'routine check-up' was pointless. It took at least an hour of them prodding at him and testing his patience with stupid and sometimes obvious questions that made no sense. It was driving him up the wall and if he had to spend another second being asked, 'What about this Bakugou-kun, can you hear this, on a scale of 1 to 10, how loud would you say this is?'

He was going to blow.

Thankfully, the weird looking nerd sat down, nudging his tacky round glasses further up his nose with a large exhale, as if he was the frustrated one.

"Bakugou-kun, we're afraid that you have a serious case of sensorineural nerve damage."

His youthful features scrunch in trepidation, knuckles crack as his fingers dig into his kneecaps. Anger swells like a bubble in his chest, burning and growing with an intake of breath.

"And you expect me to know what the fu-"

Interrupted by the soft palm of his mother's hands on top of his clenched fist, he pauses. Her expression is gentle and lacking the familiarity of affectionate playfulness. It rips him of any comfort her presence should give him, and his throat tightens with growing dread.

"Katsuki, honey, you're going deaf."