A Sense of Belonging

by crocus (azaIea)

Summary:

Katsuki turned to leave, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He glanced back at Deku’s face, only to see it darkened by anger. The look didn’t suit him. “Did she hurt you?” he asked seriously.

 

He rolled his eyes and yanked his arm away. “All the fucking time.”

 

_________________

If healing from trauma was a competition, Katsuki was here to win it. Or something. He might need a little help first.

Notes:

Hey guys.

This is another suuuuper old one! I found it in a hidden folder on my phone, somehow. I think this is the second MHA fic I wrote? It was around the same time I wrote Dreamy Night, and you guys seemed to like that one a lot, so I figure it's worth sharing!

There isn't much of an ending to this, I'll warn you now. I think the reason it ended up buried in my wips for over 2 years is because there really is no way to end it, necessarily. So, while there is no 'end,' it is finished.

Maybe I'll consider adding more chapters if the mood strikes, or I could make it a series. But, as of right now, we have three chapters! Updates every 2 days.

Chapter 1

Why am I here?

The thought was overwhelmingly familiar to him. It was a question that haunted him all his life. 

He wasn’t being existential, although the question came to him in those moments as well. He was standing at the edge of a crowd, hands deep in his pockets, watching everyone laugh at something. He wasn’t paying enough attention to hear it.

He found that moments like that were the most memorable. More memorable than when he questioned himself in the middle of the night. More memorable than when he was absorbed in self-hatred, thinking about the whispers that said he didn’t belong. It was moments like this, where it was clear that he didn’t, despite how hard everyone worked to include him. Moments where he is hit by a numb sort of clarity, rather than grief or anger. 

He hated that he had no control over it. 

The first time he found this clarity had seemed unassuming enough. He was small. He was in a place he didn’t recognize, far away from home. As far as he knew, or could remember, there had been no danger. Despite that, he'd paused his pacing of the empty room. He wondered why no one was with him. He wondered why he was there.

The next time the thought had come to him, he still didn’t understand. He never did, until he was given distance from his mother. It was only then that he realized how often he was left behind.

Maybe he had some abandonment issues to flesh out. She’d certainly given him plenty of other ones.

He wondered, for a moment, how the woman could abandon him and keep him too close at the same time. How she managed to force his dependency on her, and hang it over his head to manipulate him, while still pushing him away. Emotionally, through her harsh words. Physically, whether it was her truly abandoning him on a stranger’s doorstep, or by actually pushing him. 

That line of thought was dangerous outside the comfort of a hot shower. He turned and left the room without a word. He could hear the complaints of his classmates behind him. It’s early, they whined. Where are you going, they questioned. Just let him go, someone sighed.

He didn’t have to be afraid of her anymore. Maybe she had legal leverage over him, sure, but he was far away. She didn’t do anything for him. He did it all on his own, from the comfort of his new home. She couldn’t whine to him about how expensive it was to feed him. Couldn’t complain to him about how useless he was around the house. Couldn’t scream at him for the grades that didn’t meet her standards, despite her constant reminders that she never expected him to meet them in the first place.

Truthfully, he didn’t know why he was so scared, anyways.

He’d faced worse than her. He’d faced actual real villains, and he’d won. He could make his hands explode with more force than she could possibly imagine. So why did he start shaking every time he thought of her?

He locked his door, knowing one of the extras would show up and invite themselves in if he didn’t, and immediately shucked off his clothes. He got in the shower and turned it on, feeling it burn ice-cold, then lukewarm, then burn hot. He closed the curtain and looked down at his feet numbly. His socks were still on. 

“Ah, shit,” he cursed. His voice sounded alien to him. Quiet and subdued. 

He held a hand to the wall and pulled the wet socks off his feet with great difficulty. He tossed them over the curtain and heard them plop onto the tile floor. 

He stood there under the burning spray and considered the nature of his thoughts. He could pretend they came from nowhere, if he wanted. He could tell himself it was just a coincidence that his long since repressed abandonment issues came up in the middle of the dorm-wide game night. He wasn’t in the mood to lie, though.

Steam clouded his vision. The temperature of the room was hot. He could feel his back blistering. And yet, he stood there shivering.

Because they were all supposed to go on a week-long break from classes starting tomorrow, and he didn’t want to go home. 

A firm knock at his door made him nearly jump out of his skin. “Hey, bro, you in there? You were acting kind of weird, so I thought I’d come check on you,” Shitty Hair's muffled voice came through the door. There was a long silence. “Okay, listen, I know you’re gonna be an ass about it, but I’m actually really worried, so if you don’t say anything, I’ll bust this door down and--"

Katsuki shut the water off, relishing in the familiar feeling of annoyance flaring in his chest. “I’m in the fucking shower,” he shouted, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear.

“Oh,” Shitty Hair replied, sounding surprised. “I thought you were a morning shower guy.”

His face scrunched up with incredulity. “How would you know that about me?” he demanded.

After a moment of hesitation, he heard a muffled, “Am I right?”

Katsuki groaned, loud and dramatic, and ripped open the curtain. He dried himself quickly, stepped over his soaked socks and pile of clothes, and went to his dresser to put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He unlocked the door with more aggression than necessary and swung it open, letting it bang on the wall.

Shitty Hair stared, wide-eyed. “Uh, hi,” he said, a little awkward.

Katsuki crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “What, you’re not here to invite yourself in? Inspect my room for clues? Psychoanalyze me?” 

“Do you…” Shitty hair trailed off, peeking around the room behind him. “Not want me to come in?

“I’m busy,” he said, voice clipped and dismissive. 

“That’s a lot of steam,” Shitty Hair commented. 

Katsuki snarled. “I was in the shower.”

Shitty Hair leaned further into the room and looked into the bathroom. His eyes connected with something on the floor. “With your socks on?” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. 

He rolled his eyes and reached past him to grab the edge of the door. “Fuck off,” he said, his voice lacking energy. 

Shitty Hair stopped the door with his hand. “What’s wrong? Did something happen, bro? You’ve been more… I don’t know. You’ve been weird today. I don’t think I should leave you alone like this.” 

Katsuki pushed on the door with more force, grinding his teeth. “Nothing happened. I just want to go to bed.”

“It’s, like, 6 o'clock, bro,” he said with a frown. When their struggle with the door inevitably brought them closer together, he gasped. “What happened to your shoulders?” 

Katsuki bristled at that, and shoved his whole body against the door. “Get the fuck out!” he shouted, just as it finally slammed closed. He wasted no time on the lock.

He heard a light thump on the other side. “I’m worried,” the other boy said, voice muffled once more. “You don’t have to be alone, Katsuki. Whatever it is, we’ve got your back. I promise.” 

He stayed there, pressed against the door, long after he heard his footsteps fade down the hallway. He knew Shitty Hair would do that, and he opened the door anyway. He hated himself like this. He was being impulsive. He needed to get it together.

There weren’t really any options for him. He didn’t want to go home. Surely, she didn’t want him there either. She told him how much easier life is without him every chance she got. He was positive that she would be worse than usual, too, because she was so used to his absence. He doubted he could so much as breathe without aggravating her. 

He couldn’t just ask to stay at the dorms, though. The thought made him shudder. He couldn’t look an adult in the eyes and say he was scared of his own mother. Not after everything else he’d been through. On top of that, the staff hadn’t given an explanation, but there must be a reason why they were all being sent home that week. He probably couldn’t stay, no matter what.

Despite that, he found he couldn’t pack his bags. He wandered around his room all the way up until 8pm, and not a single thing ended up in the suitcase. The next morning when he woke up, he just stood and stared at the empty case sitting on his bed in front of him. He stood there for hours. He felt like his entire body, as well as his mind, was malfunctioning. 

He heard knock after knock, voice after muffled voice, at his door, but he never dared to move. He didn’t make a sound. Eventually, when it had been quiet for a while, he heard the sound of keys clicking. The knob turned. The door opened and closed. He didn’t look up.

“Your friends are worried,” Aizawa said. His voice cut through the silence, causing him to flinch. “They thought you were injured.”

Katsuki stared down at the suitcase.

“This isn’t like you. Did something happen?” 

He let out a puff of breath. “What’s up with you people thinking something happened? Nothing happened,” he muttered, voice barely audible.

“Interesting,” Aizawa said, though he didn’t sound very interested. “Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say those are burns on your back. And you haven’t moved a muscle since I let myself in.”

“Yep,” he whispered. “Interesting.” He hated that he couldn’t keep control of his voice. He hated that he couldn’t turn to his teacher and scream at him to mind his business and get out of his room. He hated that he couldn’t tear his eyes off of the bottom of that case.

Aizawa took a few steps forward, and pulled out the desk chair. He sat down. “You’re not excited for vacation,” the man guessed. 

Katsuki’s eyes finally flicked up at that. “It’s not just a vacation, and you know it. There’s another reason for this,” he accused. His voice sounded more normal this time, but still subdued.

“You’re deflecting,” Aizawa pointed out. They were both silent for a long time. “I’ve met your mother,” he finally said.

He bristled at that. His hands clenched. Too close. Too close. 

“Is everything okay at home?” his teacher asked. It sounded like he already knew the answer.

Katsuki snarled. He squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s fine.”

Aizawa stood again, taking a step closer. “Why haven’t you packed anything, then?” 

Katsuki whipped around and slammed one of his dresser drawers open. He grabbed a handful of clothes and threw them into the case. Even the crumpled pile of shirts left a bitter taste in his mouth. It looked too full now. It mocked him, screaming that he was stalling the inevitable. “Happy now?” he snapped.

The man said nothing. He just stared while Katsuki felt his breath pick up. 

He couldn’t go back. He would rather die. He would rather throw himself back to the league of villains. At least he knew how to handle them. 

“Bakugou, you need to breathe,” Aizawa’s voice came. A hand laid on his shoulder.

He smacked it away instantly, and held up his own as a warning. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he wheezed. God, he hated the sound of his voice. He was going to throw up.

The teacher dropped his hands immediately. They hung at his sides. Katsuki dropped his own hand slightly, but his breathing didn’t slow. 

“You’re having a panic attack. I need you to calm down. Breathe,” The man said, voice steady.

He knew he needed to calm down. If he didn’t calm down, he might lose control of his quirk. Even with the cover of Aizawa’s erasure, he couldn’t take the risk of blowing up his own bedroom. He took a deep stuttering breath in, then let it out too quickly. 

“Good. Keep going,” Aizawa encouraged. His voice portrayed none of his emotions, but Katsuki knew the man was tense. He could just tell. 

He continued to breathe. Eventually, he was breathing normally. He let his hand drop. He felt completely drained. 

“Bakugou,” Aizawa said, bringing his attention back to him. “I need you to answer the question. Tell me honestly. Is everything okay at home?” 

Katsuki understood, suddenly. This man was a teacher. He was a mandated reporter. He needed the confirmation. He wasn’t going to walk away without it. The reality of the situation set in.

“No, you can’t,” he said, before he could think better of it. “She’ll be so mad."

Shit.

Aizawa’s face darkened. “Bakugou.” He didn’t need to repeat the question. 

“Yes! No, fuck.” He reached up with both hands and covered his face. Coward. “I don’t know,” he rasped pitifully.

“Yes or no,” the teacher insisted. His voice was gentler this time.

Something broke in him at that. He balled his hands into fists over his eyes. “No,” he finally admitted. He felt his breath pick up again. His heart fluttered. “Fuck!” he yelled, voice breaking. He reached out and threw the suitcase as hard as he could across his room. It hit the door with a loud bang. His shirts were scattered across the floor. He belatedly realized that if anyone was still in the building, they’d probably heard that outburst.

Neither of them moved or said anything until Katsuki’s breathing went back to normal.

“Thank you,” Aizawa said softly. “Don’t worry about packing. Get some rest. I’ll be back soon. Please keep the door unlocked.”

Katsuki scoffed. “You have keys. The extras will let themselves in if I don’t,” he said. Knives grated down his throat. He recognized the feeling. If he didn’t shut up soon, he might actually lose his voice.

The man turned and started for the door. Katsuki felt a tiny part of him cry out, and pushed it down. “There are only three students left downstairs. Kirishima, Todoroki, and Jirou,” he reasoned.

“Shitty Hair's the nosiest of all of them,” Katsuki countered. 

Aizawa sighed. “They all came to me. Separately. They’re waiting to see if you’re okay.”

“All the more reason to keep it locked,” he muttered. He could barely even hear himself.

They were silent a moment. Aizawa opened the door. “You shouldn’t be alone like this. None of them will judge you. They just want you to be safe. Please consider it.”

And then he was gone. 

Katsuki crumpled to the floor. “Fuck. Fuck,” he wheezed. What was he thinking? What was going to happen to him now? The school surely wouldn’t just let him stay there. If he was… god, if he was separated from his parents, he’d have to have some kind of legal guardian. He’d have to have somewhere to go when school wasn’t in session. He’d ruined everything.

He managed to pull himself together again when he heard the constant buzzing of incoming text messages on his phone. He sat up and let out a long, shaky breath. He didn’t have to check to know it was Kirishima who was texting him. “Fuck,” he breathed one more time for good measure. 

Maybe Aizawa was right. Maybe he shouldn’t be alone. He didn’t want to talk about anything, or be doted on by Shitty Hair, but he sure as hell didn’t want to sit there and hyperventilate until the man came back, either. 

Plus, he really fucking needed a glass of water. 

He went down the stairs silently. He saw the three of them before they saw him. They were each sitting on a couch by themselves, all around the same table. 

He walked past them into the kitchen without a word. He got a glass of water. The silence was tense. He walked back into the common room, posture relaxed, and plopped down on the couch next to Ears. Sitting with her was probably the safest. 

None of them said a word. Katsuki sipped his water. 

“What'd he tell you?” he finally asked, grateful that the water had taken care of that ugly rasp. He was still wheezing when he breathed. He wondered if Ears could hear it.

“He said he was handling the situation,” Icy-hot spoke when neither of the others moved to respond. “He said to check on you in ten minutes. We were about to head upstairs.”

“Asshole,” Katsuki muttered into his glass. He looked to his side. “What about you, Ears? Did you hear anything?” 

She looked surprised, like she didn’t expect him to speak with her directly. “No, I wouldn’t… no. I didn’t hear anything,” she confirmed. “Or, at least nothing that, uh, we didn’t all hear,” she added quietly. Despite the hesitance in her tone, she didn’t look away from him. She stared at him with fierce eyes.

“Good,” he said simply. They lapsed into silence again. 

Katsuki finished his glass of water. He leaned forward and placed it on the table. They stared at him.

“I don’t want to go home either,” Icy-hot admitted quietly. The other two whipped their heads toward him. Katsuki carefully monitored his facial expression, but he knew his silence was enough. 

Kirishima looked at him with big eyes and a furrowed brow. He looked like Deku for a moment, before he schooled his own expression. 

“Sucks,” Katsuki replied, way too late, with a voice that was closer to a whisper. 

“Yeah,” Icy-hot confirmed. 

He didn’t need to ask how he’d known.

The four of them were silent again, but it wasn’t so tense this time. The extras knew he was safe. They knew Aizawa was handling it. They knew Katsuki wasn’t into sharing. He guessed that was enough for them.

Soon enough, too soon, they each had to leave. Ears and Icy-hot gave quiet goodbyes. They both promised to text him over the week. Kirishima was the last to leave.

“Bro,” he started tentatively. “I just want you to know I am here for you. You can tell me anything, okay? I don’t want--" he stopped himself and closed his eyes, taking a breath. Then, he leveled Katsuki with a steady look. “I never knew. I’ve met your parents, and I never saw it. I-I can’t help but feel like I failed you.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Of course you didn’t fucking see it,” he started bluntly. Shitty Hair looked disheartened before he continued, quieter. “No one did. No one could have. That was the whole point. I mean, I,” he paused for a moment, not sure if he should admit it. “I didn’t notice either. Not until we moved into the dorms.”

Kirishima frowned. He was starting to hate that look on him. It was so foreign compared to his usual sharp smile. “How? How didn’t you?”

Katsuki shrugged. He kept his expression neutral. “I didn’t know any better,” he said.

Kirishima’s face didn’t change all that much, but his eyes looked haunted. 

After that, he was alone again. 

He reclined on the couch, put his feet on the table, and laid his head back on the cushions. He looked up at the ceiling.

Why am I here? 

Technically Aizawa had said he would be back. Katsuki didn’t think the man was a liar. He couldn’t tame his instincts, though. They screamed at him that he was alone. That no one was coming for him. He’d opened himself to be vulnerable with people, and they’d all left him.

Of course they did. They had to go home at some point. He had to let them go. It would be ridiculous to insist that they stay with him. Nonsensical, even.

 

He didn’t even realize it when he fell asleep. Aizawa found him like that hours later. 

 

He woke up to the teacher clearing his throat. “Bakugou.”

Katsuki sat up and stretched his neck. That was not a good position to be sleeping in. “Mm, yeah?” he replied, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Aizawa studied him. “Let’s go to your room. I’ll help you pack.”

He felt a pang of anxiety. “Pack?” he repeated uncertainly.

“You were right,” Aizawa said, his voice becoming soft again. “You can’t stay here.” 

Katsuki’s heart dropped.

“But you won’t be going home, either.”

The relief came so quickly that he felt lightheaded. “Oh,” he breathed. 

“Let’s go pack,” Aizawa said again. 

At first, Katsuki was reluctant to have Aizawa help him with packing a bag. It was his stuff, after all. But, when they’d entered the room and found it exactly how they’d left it, he became quickly overwhelmed. The floor was still covered in shirts. They could barely shove through the door with the suitcase still there. The dresser drawer looked like it might be broken. 

He ended up standing and watching his teacher do almost everything for him. He tried to grab a few things, but his movements were slow, and Aizawa took most of the items out of his hands to organize them in the bag himself. 

Aizawa brought him out to his car. They were both completely silent for the car ride. Katsuki felt numb. He stared out the window and watched the world go by. Once he finally had the thought that he really should have asked where they were going, they were already pulling into a driveway.

They got out of the car. Aizawa took his bags. They walked up to the door and… Aizawa walked inside without knocking. Katsuki followed hesitantly. 

What he found when he walked through the door should have probably surprised him more than it did. Present Mic stood up from a big recliner and walked towards them. He leaned over and planted an obnoxious kiss on Aizawa’s cheek. Welcome home, he'd said. Then he said something about how they looked exhausted, and he was going to put the kettle on.

Aizawa made no comment.  

He guided Katsuki down a hallway and into what looked like a guest room. He parked the suitcase by the closet and sat on the bed. “Sit,” he ordered.

Katsuki took a seat beside him numbly. 

“There are a couple of things I would like to make clear,” he started. “Your stay here is not conditional. Hizashi and I spoke about this at length. We were both very aware of your behavioral problems before deciding to do this. We won’t be kicking you out for any reason. Understand?”

He didn’t. He couldn’t fathom the idea of that. Knowing exactly what he was like and deciding to take him in anyways. That’s what they were doing, right? He hadn’t said it explicitly, but the implication was there. He was sitting on a bed in their house.

“Bakugou,” he called gently. Katsuki’s eyes snapped up to his. “Do you understand?” 

He nodded.

“Secondly,” Aizawa continued. “I would like to see you work on your anger. To start, I would like you to think before you act. Every time you get angry, think of why you are truly angry, and ask yourself how you really feel. I say this because our home has always been peaceful. We both know that will change, but we’re hoping to be a place of healing for you.” He paused, then continued with a softer tone. “There will be consequences for any over-the-top outbursts, as there would anywhere else. They won’t be what you expect.” 

Katsuki didn’t know what to make of that, either. 

“We will be pursuing legal guardianship, if that’s what you want. You do have other options. We won’t trap you here.” 

He blinked rapidly. The numbness started to fade, followed closely by a warm feeling in his chest. “Just like that?” he asked.

“Just like that.”

 

They spent the rest of the night in the living room, watching a movie and drinking tea. 

 

The next morning, Katsuki woke up in a cold sweat. 

He got out of the bed and stumbled through the house. Aizawa was gone, but Mic, or Hizashi, as he’d been instructed to call him, was in the kitchen stirring something in a pot and humming to himself. 

Katsuki swallowed the lump in his throat. “Um,” he called. Hizashi turned toward him in surprise, and then smiled. 

“Good morning!”

Katsuki blinked. He mumbled a good morning back, then, “Shower?” 

If it was possible, he smiled even brighter. “Of course!” 

Once he was closed in the bathroom, he let out a breath. He took off his pajamas, making sure not to forget his socks, and stepped in the shower. He needed to feel the burn of hot water on his skin. He needed to feel it wash her words away. He didn’t want to hike up their water bill. God, when had he started thinking about shit like that?

He turned the water on as cold as it would go. It was a different kind of burn, but just as welcome. 

 

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard a knock on the door. He was crouched in a fetal position under the spray. Pathetic. Another knock. The knob jiggled. The door creaked open.

The water was turned off in seconds. 

“Oh, Katsuki,” he heard Hizashi sigh. He was wrapped in a towel, then lifted out of the tub. He stood alone, shivering, for barely enough time to blink before Hizashi was back and wrapping him in a warm quilt. He guided Katsuki to the guest room, his room, and they both sat on the edge of the bed. Hizashi rubbed his arms to try to calm the shivering, whispering hushed reassurances in his ear. He had no idea the man was capable of speaking that quietly.

Words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “It was all real,” he said, voice trembling from the shivers, letting it truly sink in. “She never really loved me, did she?”

Hizashi wrapped his arms around him snugly and shushed him. He rubbed circles onto Katsuki’s back. It warmed him up quickly. He had the brief thought that this was the first time he’d ever let someone hug him like that.

 

He was back to his normal self for the rest of the week after that. 

 

Well, almost normal. He started working on his anger the way Aizawa had asked him to. Every time he had a minor inconvenience and felt the need to react with explosives and expletives, he took a moment to consider it. Most of the time, he realized how unnecessary it was. 

The hardest part was when he felt angry at his friend’s texts.

They would ask how he was. He would say fine. They asked are you sure. He was pissed. 

Was he pissed because he hated pity? Yes. Was he pissed because he wasn’t being listened to? Yes. Was he pissed because they were right to call him out? Yes. 

He didn’t know what to do with that. None of that was easy to dismiss. Those were his feelings. 

He’d been forced to ask Aizawa about it. 

“The point isn’t to dismiss all of your anger,” he'd explained. He was sitting on the recliner under a blanket with a book on his lap. “It’s to analyze your feelings. Consider the idea that you might not actually be angry. Explore what that might mean.”

He still didn’t fucking get it.

So far, he hadn’t messed up bad enough to learn what ‘consequences’ would entail. Considering he was packing up to make the trip back to UA with Aizawa that morning, he was willing to call that a win. 

He was also willing to admit he was just a little bit nervous. He’d been dodging questions from the extras all week, and they were absolutely going to call him out on it. He just didn’t know how to even explain how he got into this position. No one else in the class was even aware of the fact that the two teachers were married. How was he supposed to tell them that they’d taken legal custody of him together? What would he tell them when they asked why?

Well, he could always just give them a snarl and tell them it’s none of their fucking business. That usually shut people up quick. Did the anger rules apply in the classroom too? 

Luckily, they got there earlier than everyone else did. Just how Katsuki liked it. When he got up to his room, he immediately noticed that nothing was out of place. There were no shirts on the floor. His dresser was fixed. His ruined socks were in the bathroom trash can. Things were normal.

He almost made it an entire day without drawing attention to himself. Raccoon eyes noticed his mood change right away, and she just couldn’t help but push her luck. Near the end of class, she had wrapped a stack of papers in a tube, and proceeded to bop his head with it. 

As soon as he saw it in his peripheral vision, he’d flinched. 

It was almost imperceptible. Raccoon eyes herself didn’t even notice it. She'd just giggled, “Oops, there he is!” when he snatched the papers out of her hand.

Deku, though. Deku had noticed. Then, he put a hand to his chin, staring directly at him, and started muttering. 

“Are you fucking serious right now, Deku?” he’d snapped.

Deku blinked. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled. 

It was too late, though. Too many people had noticed the interaction. Katsuki just sent him a glare, and ignored everyone for the rest of class. 

 

“Bro, are you coming to game night?” a muffled voice came through the door. He didn’t even knock. 

Katsuki stood up from his desk and walked over to the door. He opened it slightly. “What game night?” He asked tiredly.

Shitty Hair grinned at him. “Denki got tons of new video games last week! A bunch of us are piling into his room to check them out.” He was practically bouncing.

“Won’t that be crowded?” he grumbled, already grabbing his phone.

“Well, yes, but, oh you’re coming?” Shitty Hair blinked at him as he stomped out the door right past him.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he snapped.

When they got to Dunce Face's door, Shitty Hair jogged in front of him. He swung the door open. “I’ve acquired us one Bakubro!” he announced loudly. The room filled with cheers.

He would never understand why his presence was so well received in these situations. He rolled his eyes outwardly. He would also never admit that it gave him that warm feeling in his chest. 

A sense of belonging.

Notes:

When I wrote this, I had no idea what a sense of belonging felt like. Now that I do, I have to wonder how I managed to portray it somewhat accurately back then.

Also, the process of Aizawa and Hizashi gaining custody of Katsuki is depicted as a little unrealistically easy here, I know, but at the time I was trying to find a way to imply that the teachers were keeping that stress off of Katsuki. I couldn't find the words, so I pulled the unreliable narrator card. It kind of works, I guess. I'm not here to question past-Cro's decisions.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, even if it's a little rough! I didn't edit much more than a few spelling and grammar mistakes before posting, so I'm a little self-conscious, but I find it more meaningful to leave it exactly how I found it.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Opening up.

So far, he’d managed to go a few months without telling anyone about his situation. It didn’t come up much, considering they lived in the dorms full time, anyway. Of course, Icy-hot, Ears, and Shitty Hair were all well aware that he would no longer take up residence with his parents, but they didn’t know where he’d stayed during their week off. He figured they probably assumed he stayed in the dorms alone. 

It’s not that he wanted to hide it from them. He wanted to hide it from everyone else, for sure, but not them. He just didn’t know how to ask Hizashi and Aizawa if he was allowed to say anything. Now that he was aware of it, he saw that they really made no effort to hide the nature of their relationship, but that was much different than potentially being outed to their entire class.

He was considering asking Hizashi about it as they walked down the empty school hallway together. The man had grabbed him after class ended, claiming that they needed to talk, but so far, he hadn’t said a word.

Just as Katsuki was about to open his mouth to speak, Hizashi’s voice blasted in his ear. “So, didya hear about the study group this afternoon?” he asked cheerfully.

“Hah?” Katsuki said, snapping his head up to meet his eyes with a squint.

He cleared his throat. “As you know, your class will be barred from the camping trip next weekend if your averages aren’t bumped up by 2 percent. I set up an English study group with some of your friends.”

Katsuki scoffed. “I don’t need their help studying.”

“Oh, no, you’re doing fine,” Hizashi reassured, gesturing with his hands. “But, they could use an extra tutor.”

Katsuki stopped and faced him. Hizashi struck a pose, one hand on his hip, and the other hand held in front of his speaker as though he was holding his chin.

He stared. “I can’t take you seriously when you do that anymore. Not after I saw you this morning looking half-dead in a ponytail. And then watched you dump pepper in your coffee.” 

Hizashi made a strangled offended noise.

Katsuki turned and started walking again. “Anyways, forgive me if I’m not exactly jumping at the chance to go on another class trip into the wilderness,” he grumbled. Hizashi was uncharacteristically quiet. He turned his head to look at him, and found himself on the receiving end of a deadpan stare. “Too soon?”

“Well, think of it this way,” he started, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Katsuki bristled, but allowed it. “Even if you don’t go, which is absolutely valid, your classmates need you. This is an opportunity to act like a hero.”

Katsuki shoved his arm off his shoulders. “Alright, what’s up with the sappy bullshit?”

Hizashi snickered. “It might have something to do with what we talked about.”

“What we talked about,” Katsuki repeated. 

“You know,” he said with a grin, jabbing his shoulder with a finger. “Breaking down those walls of yours. Creating a support system.”

Katsuki groaned.

“Come on, it won’t be that bad!” He pat his shoulder. “You know you’re dying to run your peers into the ground through sheer studying willpower." 

“It doesn’t sound so bad when you put it that way,” he grumbled reluctantly. 

“See? I know you. It’ll be great. You’ll have fun. They’re right in here,” he said, stopping them right in front of the library. They’d been walking there the whole time.

“Hizashi, you son of a bitch.”

He laughed, way too loudly. “That’s ‘Present Mic’ to you! We’re on school grounds!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

Hizashi swung the door open wide. “Hello everybody!” he yelled, causing everyone to jump. 

Katsuki was not surprised by the crowd he saw. Ponytail, Glasses, and Deku appeared to be his fellow tutors. Sitting at the desks were, of course, Raccoon Eyes and Dunce Face, Kirishima, as well as Ears, for some reason. 

“We have our final tutor!” Hizashi announced, hands on his hips. 

“You?” Dunce Face exclaimed in horror.

Katsuki strolled across the room and slammed a hand on his desk. He flashed him a cruel grin. “You ready to learn some shit, Drooly?”

“Play nice,” Hizashi warned, although his voice sounded cheerful as ever. “You’ll have a maximum of three hours in here before you have to shut it down. Have fun!” 

He turned and left the way they came, swinging his arms and whistling.

“Why you?” Dunce Face asked miserably. 

“Hah? You don’t want me to teach you?” Katsuki teased. 

“We were going to do one-on-one when…” Deku trailed off, staring at him. “Well, I can switch you. You can be with Kirishima, and I can take Kaminari,” 

Katsuki scoffed. “Have you seen my grades? Have you seen his? I got this.” They all stared at him. “Come on, I’m not gonna sabotage the guy. I can ‘play nice,’” he said, adding a one-handed finger quote for effect. 

Ears snorted. “I beg to differ, Blasty.”

Katsuki squinted at her.

Glasses cleared his throat. “We’re all taking this very seriously,” he explained, doing his ridiculous hand chopping. “If you cannot do the same, we’ll have to ask you to leave.” 

“Oh, I am serious, Four-eyes,” Katsuki insisted, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the desk. “Drooly's gonna get the highest grade out of all of these extras once I’m done with him.”

Kirishima pouted. “I’m an extra again?”

“You’re so on!” Raccoon Eyes shouted, bouncing in her seat.

After that, they all sat down and got to studying. Three hours passed much more quickly than any of them expected. Although Dunce Face had been much denser than even Katsuki thought he would be, he was still confident that he’d taught him enough to raise his average significantly.

Unless, of course, the idiot went and forgot everything.

They all packed up their materials in high spirits and walked back to the dorms together. Katsuki lagged slightly behind, hands in his pockets. 

“That wasn’t so bad!” Dunce Face broke the silence. “I think we might actually be able to do this,” he said with a grin. 

“We should have dinner together as a reward,” Raccoon Eyes said, nodding seriously. She turned back toward Katsuki with a grin. “Maybe we could even have something made by expert chef Bakubro?” she asked hopefully.

“Ah, Mina…” Ponytail sighed, glancing back at him nervously. 

“Tch. Fine, whatever,” he agreed before they could make a big deal out of it.

Raccoon Eyes fucking squealed and turned around fully to wrap her arms around him, trapping his arms to his sides. He cringed away, very uncomfortable with the contact, but he wasn’t in a position to push her off. She released him from her death grip and jogged to the front of the group, walking backwards to face them. “We can all hang out and eat and watch a movie together! It’ll be so fun. Are you guys in?” 

“I didn’t have any other plans,” Deku spoke first. “And,” he added hesitantly. “I’ve never tried Kacchan’s cooking before.”

He looked back at Katsuki sheepishly. Katsuki shot him a glare.

“I agree with Mina!” Glasses announced. “We worked hard today. We should take time to relax, and then tomorrow we’ll all pass the test,” he said confidently, adding one big chop for good measure. 

It took Katsuki a bit to figure out what he could make for all of them. Eventually, he decided on hiyashi chūka. It was a warm night, and it was easy enough to increase the portions so there’d be enough for the eight of them. 

Plus, he just really wanted to use a knife.

He listened to everyone being obnoxious in the common room while he sliced up the tiny pieces of cucumber. He didn’t notice he wasn’t alone until a voice spoke up behind him. “Hey, Kacchan.”

He jumped, then turned around to point his knife at the boy. “You shouldn’t startle someone when they’re using a knife, Deku,” he snarled

Deku’s eyes flicked up from the tip of the knife to his face. “Um, sorry,” he squeaked. 

“Tch.” He turned back toward the cutting board and went back to slicing. “What do you want, nerd?” 

Deku came closer and watched what he was doing. “You’ve been different lately. I know you don’t need me to, and, ah, this might make you mad, but I wanted to check on you.”

It did make him mad. 

Why? 

He came up blank. 

He decided to keep the outburst to himself anyways. “I’m fine, Deku,” he grumbled. 

“See, normally you would have yelled at me,” he pointed out. 

That also made him mad. 

Why? 

Because the stupid nerd was right.

He chopped the cucumber more aggressively.

“I can’t tell if you’re just less angry or if you’re depressed,” Deku said.

He snorted. “Don’t be stupid, Deku. It’s neither of those.” 

Deku didn’t speak for a moment. “Okay,” he said as soon as Katsuki was getting used to the silence again. “Um, my mom saw your mom at the store the other day,” he said suddenly. “I guess she didn’t look good.”

Katsuki slipped and cut his thumb. “Shit,” he cursed quietly. 

“Kacchan!” 

He moved to the sink and put it under cool water. He glared over his shoulder at Deku, who was reaching toward him, hands hovering just inches from his shoulders. “The hell would I know about that? Not like the hag talks to me about that shit.”

Kirishima was in the doorway. “Midoriya!” he said suddenly. “Um, Iida needed you for something!”

“O-oh,” Deku said, pulling his hands away. “I’ll be right back.”

He ran out of the room. 

“That’s not gonna distract him long,” Katsuki pointed out. “He'll figure out you lied pretty much right away.”

“Maybe he’ll realize I sent him away for a reason, then,” Kirishima said, coming to stand next to him. 

Katsuki looked toward the cutting board. “Little shit ruined half a cucumber.”

“Are you okay?” Kirishima asked seriously.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “It’s barely a paper cut. I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, eyes boring into him.

Right. 

“Yeah. He’s just an idiot.”

Katsuki removed his hand from the stream of water and went over to grab the first aid kit off the top of the fridge. The class had quickly learned that the kitchen was a hazard zone, and they kept it frequently stocked. He wrapped a bandage around his finger and put a plastic glove over it. He wasn’t about to contaminate their dinner.

Kirishima didn’t speak again until Katsuki was throwing away the wasted vegetable. “I can distract him for you. Y’know, make sure he’s too busy to try talking to you.” 

Katsuki sighed. He tossed the cutting board in the sink and rummaged through the cupboard for a new one. “I think…” he said, considering his options. “I should probably tell him what happened,” he grumbled, not very happy with his decision. 

“Really?” Kirishima asked. He didn’t sound convinced.

“He'll just keep prying,” he explained while he began slicing the next cucumber with more aggression than necessary. “He’s annoying like that. I also… don’t want our moms talking to each other. It’s weird. I,” he paused and glanced toward the door. “The Midoriyas just don’t know how to shut up, that’s all,” he grumbled.

Kirishima laughed. “Oh my god, bro, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use his name.”

Katsuki scoffed. “I was—I was talking about his mom,” he said defensively.

“Nope, that was plural,” Kirishima pointed out seriously.

“Ugh. Get the fuck out of here, Shitty Hair.”

He managed to finish dinner without any further interruptions. He brought it out and set it on the table in front of the group with little fanfare. They huddled around it.

“It’s so pretty!”

“How did you do that so fast?” 

“It looks amazing!”

“Yeah, I get it, I’m the best, Deku get the fuck over here,” Katsuki said, grabbing him by the back of his collar and dragging him away. Deku yelped. 

He stopped in a hallway, far from the others, and shoved him at the wall. He leaned against the opposite wall. “I’m going to say some shit and you’re gonna listen, and then you’re gonna keep it to your damn self, got it?”

“Um,” Deku hesitated. “Yes,” he said slowly.

“This is the one and only fucking time I’m going to say this, so you better be listening,” he growled. “My parents lost custody of me. For good fucking reason. No, I don’t want to talk about it, and no, I don’t need your emotional support. I’m just telling you because you and your mom need to stay away from her. I’m not asking for a favor. If you’re a decent fucking person you’ll just do what I say, got it?” He glared down at the boy in front of him.

Deku looked confused. “What?”

“Did I not just fucking say I’m not repeating myself?” he asked through clenched teeth. 

“I… I guess I don’t understand,” he said sheepishly. 

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose and counted down from ten in his head. He leveled another glare at the nerd. “That woman is not my mom anymore. Not legally, anyway. Stay the fuck away from her. Pass the message to your mom for me. That’s it.” He turned to leave, but a hand on his arm stopped him. 

Katsuki turned to see Deku’s face darkened by anger. The look didn’t suit him. “Did she hurt you?” he asked seriously. 

He rolled his eyes and yanked his arm away. “All the fucking time,” he muttered as he walked back to the common room. 

Deku didn’t come back for a long time. 

“Did you kill him?” Raccoon Eyes asked.

“Maybe someone should check on him,” Ponytail suggested. 

“He’s fine. Probably just needed a minute,” Katsuki muttered. 

Iida eyed him suspiciously. “What did you say to him?” 

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “He can handle himself. He’s probably in the bathroom or something.”

“Ah, sorry I took so long,” Deku's voice came from behind him. 

“Gonna quit accusing me of murder now?” he asked, eyeing the three in question. 

Iida squinted at him. Deku laughed and sat down on the floor in front of him. The anger that had been in his eyes was nowhere to be found. He picked up a bowl and started getting himself a serving. “Kacchan was right. I was just in the bathroom.”

Deku leaned back, and his shoulder attached itself firmly to Katsuki’s knee.

He felt Kirishima’s shoulder shaking next to him. He turned to see what the hell was wrong with him, and found the asshole looking at Deku and holding back laughter. “You have something you wanna say, Shitty Hair?” he whispered harshly.

He shook his head vigorously and said nothing. 

Katsuki wasn’t very keen on the idea of participating in banter after the talk he’d just had, so he settled back just to watch and eat silently. They eventually decided on a movie, but it was only playing quietly in the background as everyone chattered. Deku didn’t dislodge from him the whole time and, for some reason, he didn’t feel the need to ask him to.

Once everyone finished eating, he stood to collect their dishes without a word.

“I’ll help you carry them,” Ears said as she stood up from the couch. 

They managed to grab everything in one trip. Katsuki turned the sink on and settled in to load them into the dishwasher. 

“You’re just gonna clean up after everyone without a single complaint? Never thought I’d see the day,” Ears said, sounding amused. She turned around and leaned back against the counter next to him.

“It’s just dishes. I have to clean the pans anyways,” he muttered. “Hey, what are you getting tutored in English for?” he asked suddenly, raising his voice. “Your grades aren’t bad.”

“There’s always room for improvement,” she said vaguely. Katsuki watched her gaze lead directly to Ponytail. 

He snorted a laugh. “Got it.”

Her head whipped back to him. “Got what?”

He gave her a smirk. “And they thought I was the one who wasn’t taking the study group seriously,” he said.

Ears' face started turning red. “I-I was taking it seriously!” she hissed defensively.

“For clarity, is ‘it' the studying, or flirting with Ponytail?” he asked with a grin, turning back to the dishes. 

She made a strangled noise that might have been a scoff. “Well, what were you doing there? You’ve never offered to tutor anyone but Kirishima.”

Katsuki made a face. “H- Present Mic made me do it,” he replied with distaste. 

“Right,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “And since when do you listen to a thing he tells you?”

He hesitated for a moment. He still hadn’t asked what he was allowed to say, but Ears could keep a secret. “Since I got a bedroom in the guy’s house,” he grumbled in a hushed tone.

“Oh, shit,” she said, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t really know how much I can say,” he explained. After a moment, he added, “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Right, of course,” she said. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

To his surprise, he breathed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, me neither.”

She stared at him for a while. He continued to rinse their bowls. “Whatever this is, I think it’s good for you. You seem lighter. I’m glad,” she said. Before Katsuki could say a word, she slipped out of the room and found her spot on the couch beside Ponytail.

 

When he finished cleaning up, he sat back down in his spot and yanked Deku back against his leg by the hair.

Notes:

It's super interesting to see all the ideas I took from this and implemented into my other works. I'd completely forgotten that it existed, and yet when I read this I can clearly see elements of Out of Style.

Did I already say it feels like a time capsule? Because it really does.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed!!

Chapter 3

Summary:

Making connections.

Deku’s new clinging didn’t show any signs of stopping after that night. Whenever he wasn’t with his friends or doing his own thing, he managed to attach himself firmly to Katsuki's side like an overgrown leech. He never spoke about it, and he didn’t seem to notice any comments directed to him, so Katsuki couldn’t tell if he even realized he was doing it.

The thing was, despite how much he hated Deku, he found himself allowing it.

The stupid nerd even managed to do it in class. When Aizawa wasn’t looking, he would scoot their desks together and rest his head on Katsuki’s shoulder. He thought it looked uncomfortable for Deku to reach his arm across his desk and scribble his notes while keeping his head glued there, but he did it almost every day anyway.

Aizawa never said a word about it.

At some point, Kirishima decided to ask him why he was letting it happen. He shoved everyone else away if they so much as brushed against him wrong, but now he’s been letting Deku, his rival, cling to him like his life depended on it. 

He’d thought about it. And thought about it. 

Consider the idea that you might not actually be angry. Explore what that might mean.

God damn it.

He needed to talk to Aizawa again.

“Why am I letting Deku act like this?” he’d demanded as soon as he slammed the office door open.

He could see Aizawa struggle to keep his face neutral. “I don’t live in your head.”

Katsuki slammed the door closed and sat in the chair by the desk. “Don’t fucking laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing,” he said, his face and tone remaining neutral. 

He rolled his eyes. “You want to. Don’t be fucking rude. I’m confused.”

“Well,” Aizawa said, turning his swivel chair to face him. “What was your friendship like before you decided that you hated him?” 

He considered the question for a long time. He thought about it long enough that Aizawa went back to grading papers. “He used to hold my hand and drag me around whenever he wanted to show me something. That was the closest thing to this he’s ever done,” he finally said.

“What changed?” he asked, scribbling something on the paper in front of him.

“Then or now?” he grumbled.

Aizawa considered, hovering the pen over the page. “Both,” he said with a decisive nod. 

“Well back then I thought he was a quirkless loser,” he explained. “He kept trying to one-up me anyways. It pissed me off, and I decided I hated him.”

Aizawa hummed. “That is a sentiment I recognize from you.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No,” he said, but he had a barely visible smirk. “Go on. What’s changed in your relationship this time?”

Katsuki sighed. “I told him what happened. It was just because I didn’t want his loudmouth mom telling her about how I am and shit. It's violating. So, I told him to tell his mom to stay the fuck away from her.”

“I see,” Aizawa said, turning the chair back toward him. “I’ve noticed that Midoriya tends to stick close to his friends after they’ve been through a crisis. He followed Iida around like a puppy for weeks after the incident with his brother. I think, maybe, he’s doing the same thing. The two of you have always been close, so maybe the, uh, cuddling is second nature.” 

Katsuki scoffed with disgust. “First of all, we’re not close, or friends. Second, it’s not fucking cuddling. He’s just being clingy, or whatever.”

Aizawa ignored him. “I’ve noticed something about you, too,” he continued. “For as long as I’ve observed, up until recently, you’ve always pushed people away when they got too close. Is it possible that you never hated him? That maybe you wanted to keep him at a distance to protect yourself?”

Katsuki leaned back in the chair and glared at the wall in front of him. From his peripheral vision, he saw Aizawa turn back to his papers. 

He tried to think of exactly what he hated about Deku. His muttering was annoying. He tried to act like he was better than Katsuki, which was bullshit. He always wanted to help. He acted like he cared. He pretended to admire him. He made small talk sometimes, even though Katsuki always said something mean to make him go away. 

He hated Deku because he acted like he was his friend despite how hard Katsuki pushed back. 

“Ah, shit.”

“Mm,” Aizawa said. “Was I right?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he groaned. 

They sat in silence for a long time. Katsuki was about to get up and leave, when he had a thought. “Hey, so, how much am I allowed to say about our situation?”

Aizawa gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Katsuki started, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Well, I’m pretty sure no one knows about you and Hizashi, even though you’re obvious as fuck. So, I didn’t know if I was allowed to say anything. And I don’t know if you guys wanted people to know that you, y'know, took me in,” he explained. Aizawa stared. “I don’t know,” he added, quieter. He sunk in the chair.

Aizawa continued to stare at him for a moment. “We were both aware that taking you in would result in the class finding out about the nature of our relationship. Have you not talked about it at all? With anyone?”

“Well, I kinda did. I told Ears about Hizashi, but not you,” he muttered, trying to become one with the cushion below him. 

Aizawa scooted his chair toward him. “Why didn’t you ask about this sooner?” he asked softly. Katsuki refused to answer. “We wouldn’t ask you to keep this to yourself,” he went on, voice returning to neutral. “Your life was completely uprooted. You have to be able to talk about that. There are no secrets here. Understand?”

Katsuki nodded awkwardly. His back was against the cushion, and his feet were inching away from him toward the door. 

“Sit up,” Aizawa ordered with a smirk. 

Katsuki tried to scoff, but it came out sounding weird due to his position. He grabbed the armrests and used them as leverage to help him stand. “Alright, I’m out of here, old man. There’s plenty of people I could sit around with who don’t mock me relentlessly.”

“You love it.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled, stomping out the door. 

He managed to sit quietly while studying with Kirishima in his room for about five minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore. “Aizawa and Present Mic are married. Also, they have legal custody over me.”

Kirishima gaped at him.

Katsuki groaned. “Come on, don’t make this weird."

“Since when?” Kirishima asked, a grin forming on his face.

“Uh, since I didn’t have anywhere to go for a week when the dorms were closed,” he replied harshly.

Kirishima didn’t mind his attitude. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, then he held up a finger. “Oh, you didn’t want to out them, huh? That’s nice of you.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Kiri. I’m not nice. Not outing someone is just basic manners.”

He was quiet for a bit. “I think I like that one better than Shitty Hair,” he said.

He snapped his head up. Kirishima had a wide smile on his face. “What did I call you?” he demanded with a glare.

Kirishima started laughing. “Hey, are you going on the camping trip?” he asked suddenly.

He got up onto his knees and started shuffling across the bed threateningly. “I’m not dropping it. What the fuck did I just call you, Shitty Hair?”

He pouted. “Noo,” he whined. “I don’t want to be Shitty Hair anymore. You called me Kiri.”

Katsuki blinked, then glared at him. “Bullshit,” he decided.

Kirishima looked like a kicked puppy. “You did! I like it! No take backs! Take backs aren’t manly!”

“I’m not calling you Kiri,” Katsuki scoffed.

“Please,” he begged, drawing out the syllable childishly. 

Katsuki shoved him off the bed onto the floor to make him shut up.

It wasn’t like he hated the nickname. He’d admittedly used it pretty frequently in the privacy of his own mind. It was just the principle of losing an argument with Kirishima. It would be possibly the first time he relented against his hounding of anything. 

But, when he stared down at the boy, sprawled out on the floor and looking up at him with puppy-like eyes, he found himself unable to say no.

He deflated. “Get the fuck back up here, Kiri.” He made sure to say the name with contempt. 

Kirishima saw right through it. He grinned and popped back up off the floor. “Thanks, bro,” he said sincerely as he dropped back down on the bed next to him.

Katsuki sat back down and leaned against the wall. “I don’t know.”

“What?”

“The camping trip,” he said. He crossed his arms. “Hizashi said he would skip out on chaperoning, and I could stay with him for the weekend.”

Kirishima stared at him. Katsuki looked away. “That sounds like it’d be nice,” he said.

“Tch.” Katsuki shook his head. “No. I’m going on the trip.”

“You really don’t sound like you want to, bro,” Kirishima insisted.

Katsuki growled. “The villains aren’t dumb enough to try and pull off another kidnapping in the woods. They don’t underestimate us. They know we’d be prepared.”

“I guess,” Kirishima said.

“And if they were stupid enough to do it, I’m not about to leave them to kidnap someone else in my place,” he added, pulling his crossed arms closer to his chest.

When Katsuki looked back, he saw Kirishima smiling at him. 

“Well, that’s super manly, bro. I know the others are a little nervous, too, so you’re not the only one. We’re all going to be on edge, but I think the trip will be good for us anyways.” Kirishima wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Katsuki found he didn’t mind. 

They sat like that for a long time. Kirishima kept working on his notes. Katsuki shifted slightly and planted his head on his shoulder so he could get a better view, and he felt Kirishima relax underneath him. 

Okay, he could kind of understand Deku’s cuddling impulses. 

 

Sparring with Icy-hot was kind of like dancing.

When they weren’t putting in much effort and let their instincts take over, they could probably go hours without even touching the other. Usually, that would throw Katsuki into a rage. Instead, he found it cathartic. It was nice to just exist with another person and not think about anything for once.

They went on until Icy-hot bent over and placed his hands on his knees, panting. Katsuki was panting just as hard, but he stepped forward to pat his back too hard and laughed. “Need some water, little guy?”

He got a cold glare in response. 

They both struggled to the water station. Katsuki filled his water bottle three times and chugged all of it. Icy-hot sipped his water carefully. 

“Don’t make yourself sick,” he warned. It was the first time he’d spoken in hours. 

“How are you just sipping that right now?” Katsuki asked, breathless.

Icy-hot didn’t respond. They stood in silence while he sipped his water. When he finished, he set the bottle down on the floor beside them and turned to Katsuki. “I haven’t asked because I know you value your privacy, but I would like to know…” He hesitated. “Are you safe?”

Katsuki stared at him. “Yeah,” he said finally. “What about you?”

Icy-hot looked surprised at the question for a moment. He spoke quietly. “Things have been better. That week wasn’t so bad, but I still prefer it here.” 

Katsuki nodded. “I stayed with Aizawa,” he said. Icy-hot raised his eyebrows a fraction. “And Hizashi—um, Present Mic,” he added.

“Both of them?” he asked.

“Yeah. They live together.”

He blinked in surprise. “They do?”

“Yeah, well,” Katsuki muttered, reaching over to fill his water bottle again. “People usually do that when they’re married.”

He could practically see the gears in his brain grinding to a halt. “Oh,” Icy-hot said. 

Katsuki started towards the weights, and Icy-hot followed him silently. They didn’t need to share words to know they’d both had enough of cardio. He set his water bottle down beside the bench. “They could probably help you too, y’know,” he said casually as he chose a set of dumbbells. “All you have to do is ask.”

Icy-hot didn’t respond, but Katsuki hadn’t expected him to. Once he finished his first set, he looked up to see the boy hadn’t moved. His head was bowed so that his hair covered his eyes, but the gesture was unnecessary. His face didn’t betray any of his thoughts.

“He said he was sorry,” he finally said, voice small.

“Did you make it?” his mother’s voice crackled over the phone.

“Um,” he hesitated, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “No. No, I missed it."

Maybe it was silly. Maybe it was childish. All Might was supposed to make a brief appearance at the fair that day, and he’d planned on going with his group of followers to see him. Instead, he’d been up late listening to her harsh words. When he met up with his group the next morning, just minutes too late, all he could see was their parents looking down on his exhausted form with disappointment in their eyes. He’d had to walk away, but they were sure to come looking for him soon.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, her voice gentler than he’d ever heard it before. “I didn’t mean to.”

He didn’t know what to say. His instincts told him to tell her it was okay because he’d never heard her so sad before, but something was stabbed into his chest, holding back the words.

“I’ll be better, okay? I’ll be better for you.”

And despite the fact that she’d never promised him anything like that before, he couldn’t bring himself to have hope.

He didn’t realize until that moment, staring as Icy-hot began to tremble, that those parents hadn’t been disappointed in him. They were disappointed in her.

“Did he apologize for you, or did he apologize for him?” 

Icy-hot froze, and finally looked up at him. His face still said nothing, but there was something wild in his eyes. Fear, Katsuki realized. “I… don’t know,” he replied slowly.

“If he’s anything like the hag, which,” he paused, snarling in disgust at his own memories of the man. “Let’s just be real here, he is. He could be catching some heat from someone about it. Or he just wants to look good. Even if he is genuine, you don’t have to forgive him.”

They stared at each other silently for a moment. 

“Just think about it, okay?” Katsuki said, allowing annoyance to creep into his voice. It wasn’t effective. As the boy continued to stare, he found himself becoming self-conscious. “Come on, Half ‘n Half, you don’t want to share a room? Get ourselves a bunk bed? Braid each other’s hair ‘n shit?” Nothing. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Hizashi's pancakes.”

That got him a response. Icy-hot blinked. “Really?”

“No, I lied. The guy’s fucking useless in the mornings. Mine are pretty good though.”

Icy-hot looked at him with a strained expression, before he broke out into giggles. Katsuki smirked in triumph.

He was officially the first person in their class to get the guy to laugh.

 

Notes:

You can probably see why I said this doesn't seem like the end. I feel like these kinds of journeys of healing never end, though, so it feels a little perfect for me. Plus, it feels wrong to change it in any way after all this time! So, maybe a sequel will happen if the mood strikes.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little time capsule with me! Thank you guys for all the love and comments!

Notes:

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