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Izuku’s Monday had been perfectly normal. Homeroom was first with Aizawa-sensei, then English with Mic-sensei, then Art History with Midnight-sensei. It was finally lunchtime and all of class 1-A had gone to the cafeteria. Izuku had stayed behind to ask Midnight-sensei a question about their assigned project for the week. Of course, most of his friends and classmates rolled their eyes - Izuku always had project questions. So, they left him to his own devices and now he was packing up his things as Midnight-sensei left the room.
Izuku liked being able to have some quiet time to himself between classes, before going into a lunchroom full of noisy kids. It brought back so many bad memories of middle school. While Katsuki had come around and after their battle on Ground Beta, they were now proper rivals and even secretly rebuilding their friendship through long nightly (Aizawa approved) sparring matches, he still couldn’t stand being in certain situations. Large groups of students was one of those situations.
Once he was packed up and prepared himself for the coming din of a few hundred teenage voices and the smell of a hundred different meals, he made his way into the hallway. Of course, that’s where Monday had to fall apart.
“Watch where you’re going, stupid Deku. How the hell did you even get here?”
Izuku’s vision blanked white, his body tipping sideways and away from the familiar voice. Nanji Tsukumoto, his second greatest bully right after Katsuki.
“Wh-wha-.. What’re you… doing here?” He tried to force the words out, but of course they came out cracked and raspy from fear.
“How is that any of your business? But since you’re being respectful enough not to look in my face, I’ll tell you. I transferred to UA last week - business course. I can’t imagine how you managed to scam your way in. How’s gen-ed treating you? Hopefully just as hospitable as your old classmates.”
Izuku refused to look up at his bully, unable to admit he was really there. Maybe if he ignored the truth he could avoid the pain, the memories, all of it.
“Speak, Deku!” Tsukumoto grabbed the collar of his shirt, shoving him against the wall hard enough he felt a few of his joints pop. Izuku knew very well he could break bones and win fights - but no amount of knowledge and hero training could push him through the hot white fear that was swallowing his every brain cell.
“I-” Izuku finally looked up and met his bully’s face. Tsukumoto wasn’t a pretty face to look at. He had some kind of animal quirk. He had some kind of rodent features but his hair was spiky almost like a porcupine. He could use it like quills, too. Izuku remembered exactly what those felt like being pressed through his skin over and over.
“That’s what I thought.” Tsukumoto shoved him to the side and started walking away. “Stay out of my way or I’ll teach you - just like old times.”
It took every ounce of Izuku’s resolve to keep from spiraling into a panic attack.
He made it through lunch with only a few people questioning his sickly look.
The next few days were a simple repeat of Monday - the same schedule with added interruptions of his middle school bully pulling him into an unguarded, camera-less hallway to berate him. A few times he used those damn hair quills and Izuku had to take an extra minute or two to wrap a bandage around his arm or leg so no one would see the wounds.
A few friends asked what was wrong - but Izuku didn’t have the strength to tell them the truth. If they knew he was quirkless, they’d turn into yet more bullies, wouldn’t they? Katsuku had come around but only because Izuku had a quirk now, right? Katsuki saw him as a rival, someone to beat. Even if they were talking more and even found a few things they had in common to talk about on a regular basis - they weren’t genuinely friends. Katsuki would never be friends with a Deku like him.
Friday was different, though. When he walked into the classroom, albeit later than usual due to recent sleepless nights, he found everyone in the class muttering to themselves. They kept sneaking peeks at the side of the room, where Izuku’s desk was. Iida was chopping the air and ranting about defacement of school property.
Of course, Izuku had his assumptions about what happened. It was normal, or at least, expected. Tsukumoto probably wrote something on his desk like he did all the time in middle school. Izuku didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to read the death threats, the spider lilies, the slurs.
Katsuki ran right into his back as he stood in the doorway of the classroom.
“Move, Deku.” Izuku whimpered, shying to the side purely out of habit upon hearing the word. “Wha-... what the hell?” Izuku realized his mistake and snapped his fearful green eyes to Katsuki’s face, then back to the floor. Katsuki lowered his voice, “Izuku, what’s going on?”
Katsuki only used his given name when things were serious, so he knew the blonde was at least slightly concerned. But Izuku couldn’t find the words. Thankfully, the class had finally noticed them.
“Hey, Deku!” Ochako called. Izuku winced harshly at the word. Katsuki put a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t call him that, Pink Cheeks.”
“What?! You can’t seriously be going back to claiming that nickname! It’s his hero name, why can’t I call him that?”
“Shut up, it doesn’t matter why, just don’t call him that.”
No one really knew what to do with that information so they just passed it over for the moment.
“Midoriya! The defacement of your desk, please tell me that wasn’t you. I will be reporting this to Aizawa-sensei post haste!”
“WHAT?!” Katsuki barked. Izuku winced again, pulling his scheduler from the blonde’s grip and finding a place in the corner to stand by the door, both arms wrapped tightly around himself. He could hear Katsuki storming over to his desk.
“Yeah, we all walked in and saw it, but none of us knew what it even meant, we were going to ask Midoriya when he arrived..” That was Momo’s voice.
Izuku dared to glance just once at his desk. Katsuki was blocking his view. Both hands were on the corners of the desk, gripping it like he wanted to snap the thing in half. Izuku could hear the telltale crackles and pops of his quirk going off on instinct - an emotional reaction. He wasn’t sure if Katsuki was mad at him or the desk at this point.
“Who?”
The voice was so low, so steeped in venom that the whole room froze. Every student turned to look at Katsuki but the blonde’s body snapped around so fast a few students, including Kirishima and Kaminari, jumped out of the way. He stormed back to Izuku and grabbed both of his shoulders.
“Who did this? Izuku, tell me who’s doing this to you. You haven’t been yourself all week, I should have caught this sooner. Who wrote ‘Null’ on your desk?”
Of course that’s what Tsukumoto would have used that outdated slur, it was his favorite. Izuku’s eyes were foggy, his brain fuzzy and floating. He couldn’t grip the ground if he tried right now. Katsuki’s hands were all that kept him upright and that was probably a learned instinct so he wouldn’t become the boy’s target for having fallen into him.
“Izuku. Izuku!” His eyes snapped open, finding not just Katsuki staring down at him but multiple eyes from over the blonde’s shoulders. Of course, Katsuki’s were the most heated. They were full of crimson rage but Izuku could tell it wasn’t - for once - directed at him. What a strange thought. “Please, talk to me.”
“What’s going on - why aren’t you all in your seats?” Aizawa’s voice came from behind Izuku. “What’s wrong with Midoriya this time?”
“We’re not sure, sensei. When we came in today we fond his desk had been written all over and we weren’ sure if he did it or someone else.” Jirou was speaking. She was brave, braver than a lot of them. It seemed like most of the class was too scared to speak. “Bakugo lost his shit when he saw the words, none of us even understood the kanji, but he seemed to. He’s been trying to get Midoriya out of a trance ever since.”
“It says ‘Null’.” Katsuki clipped out.
“What?” Aizawa’s voice was just as sharp, and closer this time. “Why would that be written on his desk? Midoriya, did you deface school property?”
“Of course he didn’t!” Katsuki barked, wrapping his arms tighter around Izuku who was still unable to ground himself. “Fuck, I need to take him to Recovery girl - he’s dissociating. I don’t know if he can hear us right now.”
“Bakubro, since when do you know Midoribro so well?” Kirishima asked.
“We grew up together, Shitty Hair! I know what the Nerd looks like when he’s floating away.”
“Bakugo, I need you to explain right now. You can take Midoriya to the infirmary in a second.”
Katsuki growled, and Izuku felt his body being hugged, but distantly. He could feel something hard pressing against his face and chest - was that Katsuki’s body?
“It’s not my story to tell, sensei. I can’t. He’ll hate me even more than he already does.”
“Misoriya can’t possibly hate you, Bakugo! He doesn’t have a single strand of hate in his body. Even if you are cruel to him most of the time.” Kaminari was trying to be helpful, but not really succeeding.
Izuku found red eyes staring down at him, bright and burning.
“Nerd, I need you to hear me, just for a second. Do you want them to know the truth? Do you want me to tell them what’s going on? I don’t even know who did this but I’m going to find out and I’m going to make them pay for it.”
Izuku’s eyebrows scrunched up. If Katsuki told them, wouldn’t they hate him? Izuku had already forgiven him, so many times, so many times. But Katsuki might lose his friends. Izuku tried to force words from his throat, but all that came out was a sorrowful whimper.
“It’s okay, Nerd - I don’t care what they think of me.”
Oh. Izuku couldn’t bring himself to care beyond that. If Katsuki was giving permission, then so would Izuku. He managed to nod. That was all he did before his brain floated away again and he curled into Katuski’s body, going blank.
Katsuki sighed, knowing full well the repercussions of what he was about to say, but Izuku had given him permission. Izuku had agreed. Katsuki swore to himself silently that he’d be here, every step of the way, to fix and repair anything he broke by speaking the truth. Granted, if he got expelled, he couldn’t exactly do that - but he’d do what he could.
“Bakugo.” Aizawa prompted. Katsuki wrapped himself around Izuku on the floor, where they’d both ended up sinking, hiding the green haired teen from view as he spoke.
“Izuku’s a late bloomer. He didn’t get his quirk until the day of the entrance exam, when he saved Pink Cheeks.”
Gasps sounded around him, a few expletives following. He could hear a broken sob coming from Ochako - who likely just realized Izuku threw himself in front of the zero pointer for her life with no quirk or way to defend himself.
“What the-” but Bakugo didn’t give Aizawa a chance to interrupt.
“He was bullied, harshly, all his life because everyone believed he was quirkless. The school did nothing, they encouraged it, they kept him silent under threat of academic punishment. The students beat him, picked on him, put spider lilies on his desk, covered the top in slurs. The word Null is an old slur from a few decades ago. It means none, or zero, it’s a quirkless slur. ‘Deku’ is another slur.”
“What does it mean?”
“Sensei-”
“What. does. It. Mean.”
“It means worthless; puppet. I gave it to him when we were six.”
Again, he heard a few people gasping or cursing or even crying around him. Nothing was coherent, or even logical right now. Everyone was in shattered ruins, even Katsuki.
“What are you saying, Bakugo?” Aizawa pushed.
“Izuku and I grew up together, our mothers were best friends, and raised us like brothers. When my quirk came in and he never got one - I became his main bully. I tortured him the worst. I regret every second of every single thing I ever did. I won’t make excuses. I could tell you I didn’t know better, and while it’s true I didn’t, that’s not an excuse. I’ve been in therapy since we started here at UA - my parents noticed my ego issues and sought to fix them. I could tell you the schools encouraged me, and they did, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that I have my own keeping to do of my own actions.”
He sighed heavily, hugging Izuku closer to his chest. The boy’s eyes were still blank and void of life. He was so far gone, Katsuki wasn’t even sure he could bring his Nerd back this time.
“I know no matter how many times I apologize, there’s nothing I can do to earn his forgiveness, but I’m still trying. But right now, I want to know who the hell wrote that slur on his desk.Only people from our middle school would know it, they’re the only ones who still used it.”
“So it wasn’t you that wrote that?” Katsuki’s eyes snapped to Hagakure - or well, her uniform.
“What did you say?”
“Well, you just admitted to being his biggest bully, how do we know it wasn’t you that did it, just to upset him?”
“I’m not that person anymore! I was a horrible brat, I know that. I’m not even denying it. But I wouldn’t do any of that shit again.”
“But you still call him Deku.” Ochako refuted.
“So do you.”
“I didn’t know what it meant!”
“You never asked, did you? But all of you can see how he flinches when you use it.”
“Then why do you keep using it?!” She was in Katsuki’s face now.
“He asked me to!”
She backed off an inch, “What?”
“We agreed that it didn’t mean something bad to us anymore, not since we’ve said our peace to each other. Plus it is his hero name now. But that doesn’t mean he’s comfortable with anyone else using it. I asked - you never did.”
That silenced her.
“Go.” Aizawa’s voice broke the tension, “Take him to Recovery Girl, stay with him. I need to sort this out with Nedzu. Homeroom is canceled for today, all of you do silent study until English class.”
“Sensei?” Aizawa stopped halfway out the door, he turned back to Iida. “Yes, Class President?”
“Might we be allowed to ask the janitors for some cleaning supplies so we can remove the words from Midoriya’s desk?”
“Yes, Iida.” He left, leaving the room once more plunged into silence.
Katsuki rocked the green haired boy in his arms and carefully got himself upright.
“Hey, Bakubro, can I help?”
“What?”
“Can I help you with Midoriya?”
“You…want to help me? After all I told you I did?”
“You already said it, bro, you aren’t that person anymore - and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t support your healing journey? That would be pretty un-manly of me.”
“Okay.. uhm, take his right side.”
Kirishima nodded and looped the boy’s arm over his shoulder. Katsuki was quick to do so on the other side.
“The rest of you should really think about what I said.” Kirishima was addressing the whole class. “Their past isn’t ours to pry into or judge. They’re both different people now, and we should support them both trying to better themselves. I’ll be back to help with the desk. Come on, Bakugo.” No one said a word, no one moved, Katsuki wasn’t even sure if anyone breathed after Kirishima spoke.
Katsuki nodded and they both carried Izuku out of the class and towards the infirmary.
“Thanks, Kirishima.”
“Call me Eijirou.”
“Katsuki.”
The red head grinned his signature shark toothed smile and they walked the rest of the way in silence. It wasn’t like Izuku to let these sorts of things get to him anymore, and Katsuki was horrified to think what had to have happened to push him back into his middle school persona. All week he’d been timid and quiet, like he’d disappeared from the class and no one noticed. Katsuki did notice it, but he thought the nerd was just having a rough week and sunk into his mind. He should have known better. Hell, he’d put Izuku into these trances more than once in their younger years. He felt disgusting for not seeing it, for not speaking up or even just asking what was going on.
When they arrived, Kirishima knocked and RG answered with a huff, “What did he break this time?”
“Nothing.” Katsuki’s voice was harsher than he meant it to be. “He’s dissociated.”
“Excuse me?”
“He’s dissociated, floating off into space, his mind’s not grounded. How do you want me to say it, Hag? He’s gone in the head. He needs grounding, and I need a quiet place to try and ground him.”
“And what makes you think I’d let you be the one to do that? You’re hardly his friend.”
Recovery Girl was pretty right on that account - they weren’t friends, but only because Katsuki didn’t think he deserved the Nerd’s friendship at all.
“Because I know how to get him out of this. I put him in these states enough as a bratty child, the least I can do is get him out of one now that we’re working on our shit.”
Recovery Girl narrowed her eyes at him, slicing right through him like a scalpel. She knew exactly what he was implying, and he could see she had no desire to let him into the room, but in the end, she moved aside. Kirishima had been quietly watching the whole time, but chose not to speak.
Katsuki moved them to one of the beds and set Izuku down with Kirishima’s help. The green haired teen immediately curled up into such a small ball, Katsuki was sure he’d disappear. But right now, Katsuki needed to focus on grounding the nerd. So he couldn’t allow him to curl up like that, to sink further into himself.
When Izuku came back to himself, he realized he was in the infirmary with no memory of walking there. He also realized he wasn’t alone. He was sitting on one of the beds, but he could see two sets of legs stretching out in front of him. That didn’t tell him much about who it was behind him. His hands were resting on the knees of the other person and he could feel two hands on his shoulders. They were making repeated downward motions from the top of his shoulders and down his arms, over and over. The motion was comforting and Izuku realized it was actually helping him ground himself back to reality.
Finally, his hearing returned, and he was relieved the room was pretty silent - except for the voice behind him. It was whispering repeated words in a cycle. Hands, feet, bed, table, chair, curtain - over and over. Izuku’s eyes traced each item as it was whispered into his ear, making him focus on the room. He blinked after about six times around the room and finally turned to face the person helping him.
“There’s the Nerd. You back on the ground, star child?”
Katsuki hadn’t called him that since they were four and Izuku was constantly caught by his mom stargazing at night instead of sleeping. He nodded.
“Good. You’ve been gone a couple hours. Hobo-sensei wants to ask you questions soon as you’re ready.”
Izuku opened his mouth but no words came out, he shook his head.
“Okay, you’re not ready, that’s okay.”
Izuku took a moment to look around the infirmary. He was actually surprised to find Kirishima sitting next to the bed with his arms crossed and his eyes half lidded. He looked comfortable, and not at all concerned for where he was or why. Izuku tipped his head to the spiky haired teen, asking Katsuki silently about it.
“Eiji volunteered to help. Told the whole class off for judging our past, said it wasn’t manly to judge and everyone should support our ‘healing journey’ - whatever the fuck that means.”
Izuku gave him a look.
“Yeah, he told me to call him that, Nerd. Got a problem?”
Izuku quickly shook his head, blushing a little. It was so sweet to think Katsuki was making friends, or maybe even more than that!
“Whatever, Nerd.”
Izuku giggled, which made them both pause. Izuku tried his voice. It was raspy at first, and unsure, but he got it out eventually.
“I…feel…better. Thank you, Kacchan.”
“It’s the least I could do. ‘M sorry if I upset you when I walked in this morning.”
“It’s.. okay. I just… I didn’t hear you.. Not you now, but you then. Does that make-”
“Don’t.” Katsuki’s voice was soft. “I understand, but I wish you didn’t have those memories. I’m sorry.”
“Stop it.” Izuku turned back around, curling his knees to his chest so he could cup both hands on Katsuki’s face. “I’ve already forgiven you over and over. I forgive you, Katsuki Bakugo. I forgive you, stop hating yourself. Please.”
“But I should, Izuku. I should hate myself, you should hate me.”
“No. The past is gone, we can’t change it, but we can learn from it.”
Katsuki sighed. This was their constant fight now. Every time they were sparring, Katsuki tried to make an argument for how much Izuku should hate him, how horrible of a person he was. Izuku never once faltered in his assurances that he’d forgiven Katsuki. The blonde was the only person in his whole life to ever apologize, and even then, he didn’t seek forgiveness. Katsuki never once asked to be forgiven, he only asked to earn his place at Izuku’s side.
“Okay.” Katsuki mumbled back. He sounded so tired, like he always did after their arguments. Izuku always won the argument, but he rarely won the sparring matches.
“I’m ready to talk.”
Katsuki nodded. “Hey Shitty Hair.” He barked. Kirishima jumped in his chair.
“Wha- what, what? Who’s in trouble?!” The red head was on his feet and hardened in seconds. Izuku giggled again. “Oh hey, midobro, you’re back, how ya feeling?”
“I’m okay, Kirishima.”
“Good.”
“Go get the Hobo, would ya?”
“Sure, Kats!”
Kirishima skipped out of the room and Izuku did a double take.
“Did he just-”
“Yep.”
“And you didn’t-”
“Nope.”
“Okay.”
Katsuki chuckled deeply and scooted himself off the bed to take over Kirishima’s chair. Izuku didn’t stop him. Even if he wanted more cuddles right now, he knew Aizawa would probably tell them to separate when he walked in. He was surprised Recovery Girl had allowed Katsuki to be so tangled up with Izuku. Granted, it was a grounding technique, nothing nefarious, but still.
“How are you feeling, Midoriya?” Aizawa walked around the bed and pulled up a second chair next to Katsuki, who shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m okay, Sensei, thanks to Kacchan.”
“Hmm.” Izuku watched the tired hero side eye his blonde student, but he couldn’t interpret that look. “Well, he told us the gist of your…sordid history - but we still can’t figure out who defaced your desk, or why you’ve been acting reserved all week.”
“Oh.” Izuku had actually momentarily pushed that whole event out of his mind. “Uhm… one of my old classmates transferred here last week.”
“What?” Katsuki almost jerked upright. “Who?”
Izuku looked over at Aizawa. The tired hero sighed, “You’re not in trouble, Problem Child. Tell us who.”
“But I don’t-”
“Stop.” Katsuki leaned forward, “We both know you hate getting other people in trouble and you try to save everyone, but please - for once - put yourself first.”
“I will if you will, Kacchan.”
“I- wha… ugh. Fine.”
Aizawa rubbed a hand over his face, “Boys.”
“Sorry, sensei.” Izuku curled up a little, but made sure to look them both in their faces so they knew he wasn’t trying to float away again. “His name’s Nanji Tsukumoto. He’s uhh, he got some kind of unknown mutant quirk. His hair looks like porcupine quills. He used to uhh-”
“He’d use them on Izuku.”
“I see.”
“I ran into him on Monday before lunch and.. Every day he’s been getting worse and worse. UA is the first school where I was accepted but, I thought that was just because I have a quirk now. So when no one… no one noticed, I just..”
“You accepted that things were just going back to what you thought was normal.”
Izuku nodded once again. Aizawa was good at reading what he didn’t say.
“That kind of behavior isn’t accepted here. This student will be harshly punished, and likely expelled. Quirkist bullshit isn’t at all tolerated.”
Both Izuku and Katsuki were shocked to hear their teacher curse, but the tired hero didn’t even acknowledge it.
“I know Bakugo told us he’s now in therapy, but Midoriya, I think you need to consider it for yourself.”
“I am in therapy. It's just… a lot to get through. They said I have severe complex PTSD with social anxiety. I’m on a few medications and they usually work but… I haven’t, uhm, been around anything that… that really triggered my past like this in a long time.”
“I see. Alright. Have your therapist reach out to me, I’m a licensed child social worker, I’d like to see if I can help your treatment plan in class and while you’re at school - okay?”
“Yes, Sensei, thank you.”
“Alright, one last thing - I know I approved your late night sparring matches, but I’m curious if that’s helping or hindering your therapy, the both of you.”
“It helps.” Katsuki finally spoke up. “We vent, ya know? Not at each other, but with each other. We argue a little, over stupid shit - it’s mostly me being an idiot and Izuku making me see the light. But it helps. I think that’s why we can understand each other again.”
“When we’re sparring, there’s no filters, no holding back. It’s like the fighting forces us to break down our walls cuz if we don’t we’ll lose focus and lose ground in the fight.”
“Alright. But before I accept that, I’d like to watch a couple matches, just to be sure.”
“Sure.”
Izuku looked off towards the window and sighed a bit heavy in his chest.
“I didn’t mean to dissociate. I’m sorry, sensei.”
“You have no reason to apologize, Midoriya. It wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you’re feeling better. If you feel up to it, you can return to class - but I want Recovery Gril to check you for injuries first - you mentioned porcupine quills?”
“Oh..” Izuku rolled his sleeves up. His arms were wrapped from shoulder to wrist in bandages, “They’re mostly healed, I think he was trying to avoid being caught here, so he was going easy on me.”
“This is easy?” Aizawa was on his feet inspecting the bandages a second after Izuku had shown them. “Do I want to know what’s harsh for you?” Izuku told him anyway.
“Well, they used to put spider lilies on my desk a lot, and a few times another classmate with a nail lengthening quirk stabbed me in the chest or stomach. I was also regularly told to kill myself.”
Izuku watched Katsuki’s fingers dig into the chair arms so deeply the fabric ripped. He had to force his fingers free and clench them between his knees. Izuku knew he felt sick, he always said he felt sick when they hashed out those moments in their night sparring. It was hard for Katsuki to face the things he said and did, and it shouldn’t be easy - not in the slightest. Izuku wasn’t the revenge type, but he would doubt Katsuki’s genuine change if he had no guilt or reaction to his own past actions. If he felt nothing, Izuku wouldn’t believe he was a different person now.
“I see.” Aizawa said again. “Is there anything else you boys want to tell me?”
Izuku looked away, taking his arm back and tucking them both in his lap. He didn’t want Katsuki to get in trouble for something he did in the past, for someone he was in the past. He was different now, he was recovering, and so was Izuku. They might never become the closest of friends, they might never truly bury the hatchet - but they were making progress.
“I used my quirk on him.”
Izuku’s eyes snapped up to Katsuki’s - finding them staring him down intensely.
“Every day. I know he’ll never admit to the scars, never say what caused them, but all the starbursts on his body are mine. The handprint on his shoulder, too.”
Izuku opened his mouth to instinctively refute the accusation, but he found he couldn’t. Because it wasn’t a lie. He took a few breaths. Aizawa wasn’t saying anything, he was watching Izuku, silently asking him for his thoughts on the subject. Izuku hardened his eyes and nodded once.
“Yes - but I’ve already forgiven him for all of that. I’ve forgiven Kacchan over and over, and I’ll continue to do so - until he forgives himself.”
Aizawa’s head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowed. He didn’t say anything for the longest time and Izuku wasn’t sure exactly what to think. Would he expel Katsuki for something that happened years ago? Would he separate the two, put them in different classes? Izuku wasn’t sure he could survive without Katsuki anymore. They might not be the closest yet, but Katsuki was one of the few people who understood Izuku and could keep up with him in battle.
“Forgiving yourself takes a lot more time and effort than forgiving someone else. But you boys are on the right track.” The tired hero tucked his hands in his pockets and dipped his face into his capture weapon. Izuku saw the ghost of a smile before the lower half of his face vanished. “Keep working at it. Now - let Recovery Gril check your wounds and both of you get back to class, understood?”
“Yes, Sensei.” They both replied.
Recovery Girl was quick to rebandage his wounds after an inspection and a small application of her quirk. Izuku was too exhausted from lack of sleep for any kind of full dose. She warned him the wounds would scar. Izuku barely batted an eye and offered her only a shrug. The look she gave him was full of pity - she could see the scars that riddled his body, what did a few more matter to him?
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Katsuki broke the silence of their slow walk back to class.
“What?”
“When Tsukumoto showed his ugly mug - why didn’t you come to me? I get why you didn’t tell anyone in class or even Aizawa. I just don’t get why you didn’t come to me, of all people. Did you think I’d… that I’d… side with that asshole?”
Izuku grabbed Katsuki’s arm, stopping them both in the middle of the hallway. He was quick to pull the taller blonde in for a tight hug.
“No. Don’t ever think that. I was just scared, Kacchan. I was so scared. I thought no one here would care about me anymore if I told them the truth. I just;.. I thought I was back in middle school and no one would save me.”
Katsuki pulled them apart only to grab Izuku’s face and stare him down with burning eyes.
“I will, Izuku. I will be here to save you, every time. Just like you saved me from the sludge villain, just like you saved me from myself. I will save you. Don’t ever forget that again.”
Tears finally sprung to Izuku’s eyes. He’d been waiting for them to come all day, and finally, hearing his childhood best friend turned bully turned savior, they came. He nodded, choking on a sob as they embraced again.
“I've got you, Izuku.”
“Thank you, Katsuki.”
“That’s what friends are for, you stupid Nerd.”
Izuku chuckled and hugged his friend tighter. After a while, they walked back to class together, unworried about their classmates' reactions. They had each other, that’s what mattered.