Needless to say, in the relative anarchy of Trench, there is no drinking age. The culture shock takes some getting used to. Midoriya hadn't in some ways. He hadn't attempted to explore that possibility. It's not that he, Mr. Aizawa's problem child and Gran Torino's headache, who by all rights should have been charged with physical assault with a Quirk, is particularly straight-laced. It's just there was no reason, either back home or here, to get up to some of the wild shenanigans teenagers sometimes do. He's a workaholic; he'll sleep when he's dead. He hadn't even planned to touch anything (alcohol or otherwise) when he arrived.

However, this time, he specifically blocked tonight off from training or organizing notes. Then he learned this house is guarded not just by a few skeletons, but by a literal skeleton army. The head of household, an inscrutable man of inscrutable age, can heal (or whatever) without even having to touch someone. Midoriya experienced this firsthand. And Paul, mistrustful of people until he gets to know them, who demurs and postures and shutters his emotions on the regular, and who always carries a knife, feels safe here. Midoriya doesn't take that fact lightly.

Bakugou is one of the few people who can push Midoriya. He pushes him to be excellent. He pushes him to focus on what matters when he overthinks things. He used to push him around, but that ended when they finally admitted that what they admired and feared in each other was what they themselves lacked. Now he's just pushy. It's due to this familiarity and understanding between them that Midoriya, as he slips and struggles out of the bathtub with his shirt soaking wet, cries,

"What the hell, Kacchan!!"

He's so awake. He's never been more awake in his life.