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Things were different for Class A after the war; Izuku had kind of expected that.
It wasn’t uncommon for Izuku to wake up in the middle of the night – sometimes after a nightmare, if he was lucky enough to even sleep – and tiptoe into the kitchen for some water, only to find a group of teens huddled up on the sofa in floods of tears. Sometimes, they sat on the floor under a blanket fort, sipping on an indulgent chai tea in silence. Other times, it may be one or two classmates watching a comedy movie at 4am, just to soothe the horrors that plagued their minds.
The class did way more fun things together now, too. Probably in an attempt to boost everyone’s spirits. Game nights were on Tuesdays, movie nights were on Fridays, and hot pot nights were on Sundays. The game nights got a little heated, but at least everyone seemed to forget about their problems for a couple of hours. Mineta always tried to cheat at whatever game they played, but the decision to ban him entirely got vetoed.
But the weirdest thing of all was how Kacchan had changed.
The thing is, Kacchan’s behavioural changes were probably – no, definitely – too subtle for anyone else to really notice. Or, at least, for anyone to care enough to ask. Izuku figured that bringing it up would be bordering on creepy, and even though their relationship might be better than it ever had been, he still didn’t know if Kacchan would appreciate the observations.
The first thing that Izuku had noticed was how Kacchan’s bedtime had gotten 30 minutes earlier. 8:30pm was already pretty early for someone who was in their prime teenage years. He brushed that off and decided it was probably due to his recovery, since Kacchan had one hell of a beating during the war and maybe got tired easier now. He also might’ve had some physiotherapy exercises he liked to do before bed. No big deal. Okay. Mystery solved, for now.
The next thing he noticed was how Kacchan began changing into his hero costume privately, instead of in the locker rooms with everyone else.
He took the opportunity to sleuth out some more information when most of the class had left for the training grounds one day.
“Kirishima?” Izuku didn’t look up from fitting his hero shoes, trying to assume the air of nonchalance. “Where’s Kacchan? He doesn’t change with us anymore.”
“He kinda switches it up between the classroom or one of the bathroom stalls,” Kirishima shrugged, turning to face Izuku with a cheesy grin. “No idea why, but Bakugou’s always been an enigma. It’s not like him to get insecure, but maybe that gnarly chest scar he’s sporting might be a little uglier than we all think it is?”
It was a reasonable hypothesis. Izuku only responded with a curt nod and hurried out to reach the rest of his class, but Kirishima’s words played on his mind the whole time.
Insecure? Kacchan? No way. Izuku thought that he’d be wearing that scar like a badge of honour. 'I met the Grim Reaper and told him to go fuck himself' sort of vibes. A trophy to display his victory against All For One that day.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Kacchan had insecurities; that much was clear. Izuku could see it clearly on their first day at UA when he lost in that training match, and how Todoroki managed to clear the entire match in seconds, that Kacchan had begun to doubt his abilities as the future #1 hero. But he was working through those, and even now he was undeniably the best one in the class. Any insecurities he had were about his performance and skill, and those were being beaten every day.
What Izuku meant was that he couldn’t see Kacchan being insecure about his appearance. Especially if it was about a scar he earned in battle. Kacchan wasn’t shallow like that. He was hot; built like fucking Adonis. Everyone could see it (read: actually, most people at UA thought he looked like a feral goblin spawn most of the time, but Izuku always looked at Kacchan with hearts in his eyes and thought that he was the very image of beauty. But Izuku didn’t know that he was the only one drooling over Kacchan). He figured that Kacchan knew it, too.
Kirishima had to be wrong. There must have been another explanation.
During class, Kacchan never behaved any differently, and today was no exception. He still smashed through the training exercise, showing off his new ability to detonate explosions all over his body, and leading his team to victory in the “capture the flag” task.
Izuku’s team fumbled, but he wasn’t going to admit that it was because one of Kacchan’s shoulder explosions tore the sleeves clean off his hero costume, and Izuku momentarily got distracted by his sweat-slick outsize biceps. What he wouldn’t give to pin those arms to a bed and–
He took a mental note to remind Kacchan that he should send his hero costume back to the costume developers. It was weird how the entire suit wasn’t able to withstand the heat and strength of Kacchan’s new explosions, but Izuku didn’t have the psychological capacity to witness anymore sexy wardrobe malfunctions.
Once training was over, the class headed back to the UA training showers, as usual. Except Kacchan was slinking out of the locker room door.
“Kacchan!” Izuku chased behind Kacchan and stood to his side, sporting the most innocent smile he could muster. “You’re not showering?”
“Are you saying I smell, nerd?” Kacchan’s eyes flicked up and down Izuku’s form, and for a moment, Izuku felt like prey being stalked by a predator. “I’m not in the mood to get my dick out in front of all these extras. Besides, I’m gonna go for a run now anyway. I’m just gonna shower back at the dorms.”
The blond shuffled out of the training room whilst Izuku’s brain was trying to reboot after the mention of Kacchan’s dick.
After a very cold shower and a hearty bowl of beef stew cooked by Iida and Aoyama, the class settled down for their movie night.
“What about Tales of the Dark Circle?”
“No way, man. I saw that at the theatre when it came out. It sucked ass.”
“Hey, I thought it was pretty good!”
“Nah, pick something else.”
“Ooh! Lover’s Lake?”
“Gross, Ashido. We don’t wanna watch some lame rom-com.”
“I like rom-coms, Kaminari!”
“Nobody asked you!”
“Streamberry just uploaded this new movie about some American superhero team, what about that? I hear it’s super gory. I think it’s called The Guys or something.”
“Don’t you think we’ve had enough hero jazz for one day, Hagakure?”
Movie nights were always a mission, and Izuku had learned to drown out most of the arguing over what movie to pick. Truth be told, he didn’t really care unless it was an anime or a movie about a Pro Hero, but he appreciated the collective time spent together. Even Kacchan was there, though he did look seconds away from blowing someone up over all the noise.
Eventually, they’d picked some funny zombie flick set in Britain about a century ago.
“Hey, do you think it’ll be as chaotic as when that student from Isamu Academy zombified half our class?” Izuku pondered through a large mouthful of popcorn, earning a roar of laughter from the rest of the class.
“Maybe these zombies won’t be as pervy as Mineta was,” retorted Ashido, squinting at the smaller student.
Mineta feigned a gasp. “That depends on if these zombie chicks are hot and don’t smell like corpses.”
“Yeah, like that’d put you off.”
“...Valid point.”
Halfway through the movie, though, Kacchan heaved himself up off the sofa and headed towards the dorms. Everybody else was too engrossed in the movie to notice.
A quick glance down at his phone confirmed it: 8pm. Kacchan’s going to bed.
No time to waste. Izuku scooted out from under the blankets that had enveloped him, Todoroki and Sero, leaping over the back of the sofa ungracefully and running embarrassingly quickly over to Kacchan.
He wasn’t quiet enough, though – Kacchan turned around and glared, stopping dead in his tracks. “What now?”
Izuku pursed his lips for a moment, wringing his hands. “I just… is everything okay, Kacchan? You haven’t really seemed yourself.”
“Stalking me, nerd?” A bark, but there didn’t appear to be any bite. He didn’t even appear to look outraged or creeped out.
“No. It’s just that you seem… More private? I don’t know. You’ve always been private. But this is different – like you’re going through something.”
“Tch.” Kacchan shoved his right hand into his pocket and had either found a very interesting spot on the floor to gaze at, or for some reason, he couldn’t look Izuku in the eye. “I’m fine. Thanks, or whatever. But I’m fine.”
Izuku didn’t believe it, and something twisted in his gut. “Okay. You know you can talk to me if you need to though. Goodnight, Kacchan.”
Once again, the piercing red gaze dragged up and down Izuku’s pyjama-clad form, making Izuku feel like he was the one being interrogated. “Night, Izuku.”
When Kacchan skulked off towards his bedroom, Izuku physically deflated. Another instance where he wasn’t opening up – which isn’t unusual, not really, but Izuku hoped they’d come further than this.
Maybe it was something to do with the war, and Izuku was just reading too much into it. Kacchan will come around in his own time.
Weeks passed like that, with Kacchan following his same routine of going to bed earlier and absolutely refusing to be undressed under any circumstance.
Izuku didn’t really push more of it. They still sparred together and occasionally had late-night study sessions in the lounge, but he didn’t dare bring it up again. Kacchan probably wouldn’t confide in Izuku no matter how much he thought their relationship had changed.
A new hypothesis came to light on the morning of Izuku’s 17th birthday.
He was awake far earlier than usual, but part of Izuku wondered if it was his inner child forcing him to wake up early on his birthday, even if he didn’t really care about it. He’d had a lot of miserable birthdays in the past and assumed his 17th would be no exception. On his awkward half-asleep meander to the communal bathrooms, a few of the class gave their well-wishes, but he didn’t stop to mingle.
The bathroom was, thankfully, vacant when he arrived. After a thorough check of the stalls to confirm that the coast was clear, Izuku yanked his sleep tee over his head and stood in front of the mirror, looking, looking–
There it was.
On your 17th birthday, the thing that’s most important to your soulmate will appear in black ink over your heart.
His brows knitted into a confused frown. Blinked. Izuku rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe away any trace of sleep that might be hindering his vision, and then leaned forward on the sink to get a closer look at the mirror.
Nope. His eyes were not fucking deceiving him.
In black ink, scrawled in small, neat cursive across his chest, read ‘Izuku’.
…What the fuck?
‘Izuku’.
Why was his own name on his chest?
He’d never, in all his life, ever heard of that. He knew his Mom’s said ‘family’, and she’d said that his Dad’s said the same. Soulmarks weren’t always identical in that way, but with a common importance such as family, it wasn’t really unheard of.
Izuku had no idea about anyone else’s, really. He’d never asked All Might – that might be a good place to start his new investigations? – but obviously, he was one of the oldest in his class, so he never really knew anyone else with a soulmark.
He huffed out a defeated sigh. He wasn’t sure why he expected his birthday to go smoothly after the trash fire that was his life to date, but it seemed that today was going to be spent getting to the bottom of this mystery before he over-thought himself into oblivion.
“Happy birthday, Deku!” Uraraka ambushed him outside his dorm room before class, a neatly wrapped gift floating next to her.
“Yes, happy birthday, Midoriya,” Todoroki said beside her, also holding a gift. Except this wasn’t wrapped, and in his hands was a limited edition All Might Silver Age figurine.
“Whoa, thanks guys!” Izuku’s eyes widened, honing in on the figure. “Todoroki, this is amazing! That one is super rare, how did you find it?”
The pair barged past Izuku and eagerly perched down on the bed, the mattress rocking beneath them. “Bakugou said that this was one of the few you didn’t have.”
His heart fluttered at the mention of Kacchan’s name, and then immediately darted into overdrive when he actually processed the words. “Wait, Kacchan helped you with this?”
“Deku,” Uraraka said sharply, shutting down his train of thought. “It’s your 17th birthday. Show us your soulmark!”
“Oh. Um, right.” Izuku took in a sharp intake of breath, grasping at his shirt like a lifeline. “It’s… um. Kinda weird. I don’t know who it could be.”
“Shut up and tell us!”
With a thick gulp, Izuku lifted up his shirt, revealing what was now one of the most intimate parts of his body. For all he knew, he was showing this to his soulmate, and he’d be none the wiser.
He did hope it was neither of those two, though. They’re great friends, but they weren’t… well. Not who Izuku wanted.
“...Midoriya? Why does it say your name?” Todoroki asked, impassive. Sometimes, Izuku appreciated Todoroki’s bluntness, but it wasn’t reassuring today. Something in his words only made Izuku’s blood turn to ice.
“Yeah, that’s the problem… I don’t know.”
The silence in the room, for a few moments, was deafening. Izuku wanted nothing more than for the world to swallow him whole, ending his miserable life and granting his potential soulmate freedom from a life of Izuku’s overthinking.
It was Uraraka who found the strength to break the silence after a painfully long time. “Does that mean you don’t have a soulmate, or something?” She gazed up at him with her big, chocolatey brown eyes, but they were swarming with pity.
“I kinda didn’t hope to be alone forever.” He barked out an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heat rise to his flesh. “Do either of you know anyone with soulmarks? What do theirs say?”
“My mother’s says ‘becoming the #1 Hero’. My father’s says ‘family’”, Todoroki flatly explained.
Izuku grimaced, turning to Uraraka. “Do you know anyone?”
Now it was Uraraka’s turn to turn bright red, choosing to bury her head in her hands to hide the embarrassed burn on her cheeks. “Himiko’s says ‘money’... so I’m pretty sure we’re soulmates. I don’t have mine yet, but it checks out.”
Despite Izuku’s inner turmoil, something about hearing that his friend’s girlfriend was actually her real soulmate was reassuring, and his shoulders sagged in relief. “Wow. Well, I’m really happy for you, Uraraka! I just wish mine was a bit more… easy to figure out.”
“You could try talking to some of the others in our class who are 17. Aoyama, Kaminari and Bakugou are 17 now, and I believe there may be others,” Todoroki noted.
That’s when the realisation hit Izuku like a goddamn train.
Kacchan wasn’t insecure about his scar after the war. He has his soulmate mark.
And whatever’s written, Kacchan hates it.
Or hates who his soulmate might be.
Izuku’s stomach dropped and he mentally thanked the gods that he didn’t have a nitroglycerin based quirk, because with how sweaty his hands were, he’d probably have blown up his dorm room by now.
It wasn’t going to be anything to do with Izuku, that he knew for sure. But it still didn’t stop the ebbs of pain in his heart at the newfound knowledge that Izuku and Kacchan were not soulmates.
He might be in love with Kacchan, but Kacchan is not the person he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. If he even has anyone.
What if he has his own name because he’s in love with somebody who has another soulmate?
“Y-yeah… I’ll be sure to ask. Thanks, guys.”
Izuku cornered Kaminari on the way to class.
“Kaminari, can I borrow you for a sec?” Izuku asked, cursing how nervous he sounded. Getting your soulmark was supposed to be exciting, not heartbreaking.
It didn’t appear to phase Kaminari though, who greeted him with a dazzling smile. “Of course, Midoriya! Happy birthday, by the way! What’s up, dude?”
He shuffled towards the corridor wall out of the path of the other students and jerked his head towards the wall, with Kaminari obeying and following hot on his heels. “I… uhm. Did you get your soulmark?”
“Sure did, my man!” Despite being clad in his UA uniform, Kaminari fucking ripped open his shirt like he was Clark Kent or some shit, revealing the small black cursive, ‘singing’. “I know it’s Kyouka. I haven’t told her yet since I wanna wait for her to get hers. It’s only a few weeks away, but I know it’s her.”
Yet another classmate whose soulmate is already their significant other. Worry simmered in his turbulent stomach, bile burning the back of his throat. “That’s sweet. I’m glad you figured it out quick, too.”
Kaminari didn’t appear fooled by Izuku’s too-cool demeanour, and rested a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. “Are you worried about yours?”
“Promise you won’t say anything?”
Shooting him a childish grin, Kaminari outstretched a pinky finger. “Pinky promise!”
For reasons unbeknownst to him, Izuku looped his scarred pinky around Kaminari’s, squeezing the warm digit tightly. “Uhm… Mine just says my name. ‘Izuku’.”
Christ, Izuku could pinpoint the second that Kaminari’s heart broke for him. He wasn’t really in the mood for a pity party, either; hoping he could end this conversation quickly. The look of devastation for Izuku was not the answer he’d been hoping for.
“Oh, dude… That’s rough. I don’t know anyone with their own name, sorry. I hope you figure it out.”
Tension was building behind Izuku’s eyes as tears threatened to spill over, and turned to head to their classroom. “Yeah. Thanks, Kaminari. See you in class.”
Ectoplasm’s maths classes were never Izuku’s favourite, but it was even harder to concentrate with this ache in his chest.
Why did everyone else get such obvious soulmarks? Granted, some of them were a little generic; ‘family’, ‘being the #1 Hero’, but at least they were pretty normal things that would be important to a person. It actually indicated that their soulmate existed, even if such a broad soulmark would make it difficult for someone to find their soulmate.
Did this really mean that he didn’t have a soulmate?
Besides his stupid fantasies about Kacchan, Izuku never really pictured his future. It was pretty easy to not get himself excited; growing up bullied and quirkless didn’t exactly fill him with hope. He never saw himself with kids. He couldn’t imagine anyone loving him enough to marry him– heck, he couldn’t imagine loving anyone more than Kacchan. It would’ve felt wrong to love anyone else.
It’s not that he expected his soulmate to be Kacchan… but maybe he allowed himself to get his hopes up a little.
And now he was suffering the consequences.
When the bell rang for lunch, Izuku grabbed the opportunity to sneak over to Aoyama.
“Hey, Aoyama?” Izuku asked innocently, completely ignoring that Aoyama turned around as flamboyantly as humanly possible. “Do you have a minute? I wanted to ask about your soulmark.”
“Mon chéri, of course!” Aoyama struck a fabulous pose after standing up from his desk, which… Well, Izuku didn’t really have the brain power to acknowledge it fully. “Are you searching for your grand amour?”
“Something like that. Does yours make any sense to you?”
He couldn’t help but notice how Aoyama’s posture stiffened slightly, a small quiver breaking his pose. “Mine is… rather simple. It says ‘to paint the most beautiful art’, which does not narrow it down for me, except that my soulmate is likely not a hero student. So, I do not believe that I have met my future husband yet.”
Not that Izuku should take any pleasure in his peer’s confusion, but it was a little relieving to know that he wasn’t the only one confused by their soulmark. “Oh. I’m sorry, Aoyama. I hope you meet him soon.”
“Merci. May I ask, what is yours?”
Izuku gulped. “It’s my own name.”
Never subtle, Aoyama paled at the statement. His pose jerked again, trembling like he had a stomach ache. “That is… unfortunate. I wish you the best of luck, Midoriya.”
Instead of following the class out, Izuku plopped himself down at his desk deadweight, the world crushing him alive.
Izuku’s soulmate wasn’t Kacchan. In fact, Izuku probably didn’t even have a soulmate.
The tears began to freely stream down his face, hiccuping between sobs. He folded his arms across the desk and buried his head in the nest, burying himself from the world – as if hiding from reality was going to change anything.
If Kacchan was his soulmate, it would obviously say ‘being the #1 Hero’, the same as many others’ marks. It would be just another generic soulmark, but at least he’d be able to say for sure. Kacchan wants to be #1 more than anyone else in the entire world.
He wasn’t sure how long he was crying alone in the classroom. It felt like hours. His mouth was drier than a desert, despite the uncomfortable wet that was soaking into his pores and dripping onto his blazer sleeves.
Shit, Izuku thought, there’s no way I’m going to be able to hide this. People will know I’ve been crying.
The room was dead silent, except for the sounds of Izuku’s soft cries, until;
“Oi. The fuck are you crying about on your birthday?”
“Kacchan!” Izuku didn’t turn around immediately, sloppily wiping his eyes and nose on his blazer sleeve in an unattractive manner. When he was satisfied(ish) that he looked reasonable, he turned around to meet the eyes of Kacchan, stood in the back of the classroom. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“No shit. Why are you crying?” His eyes narrowed, honing in on Izuku’s features.
“It’s nothing,” he lied. It was a pretty stupid response, all things considered – Kacchan wasn’t an idiot. As predicted, the blond marched over to the desk adjacent to Izuku’s, and perched himself on top of it.
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Izuku.” The tone was harsh, commanding. Kacchan had put one foot on Izuku’s desk, likely to reduce the chances of him making a quick exit under the uncomfortable line of questioning.
A thick knot formed in Izuku’s throat, blocking any words from spilling out from his lips. After a few seconds of momentarily struggling to swallow down the lump, he whispered, “I got my soulmark.”
Kacchan, however, didn’t seem surprised. “Yeah. That tends to happen on your 17th birthday, dumbass. Are you cryin’ cause you got some shitty loser for a soulmate?”
“No,” he shook his head, and his eyes began to sting. “...I got my own name. So I don’t think I have one.”
Something on Kacchan’s features became unreadable, but in the blink of an eye, it was gone, leaving only a snarl in its place. His gut twisted at the acknowledgement that there was something about Kacchan that, for once, Izuku wasn’t able to read.
“That’s not what that fucking means, moron.” Kacchan’s bitter tone would’ve been too brutal to anyone else under the circumstances, but to Izuku, it was laced with reassurance. It was too subtle for anybody else to notice. “Everyone’s got a soulmate, even if the fucker’s in prison or on the other side of the world.”
Izuku frowned. “So what does mine mean?”
“What am I, some fucking relationship therapist? I don’t know. But my guess is that your soulmate’s most important thing in the world is you.”
The revelation hit Izuku like a ton of bricks, making it hard to breathe as the debris and dust of the discovery suffocated his lungs. Each inhale felt like shards of glass slicing his organs.
Kacchan just shrugged. “I’ve heard of it before. When someone already knows their soulmate, and they’re already important to one another, they get their own names. Denim Head’s got his own name, too. Same as Fold-A-Cunt. Cheesy bastards are their own most important things. So that’s probably what’s happened to you.”
Izuku’s blood felt like it was morphing into glitter, the warmth spreading into his heart and soothing all of his wounds and pain.
As quickly as the sensation appeared, it morphed into a turbulence in his stomach.
By Kacchan’s own logic, Izuku does have a soulmate, and he probably knows the person already. Someone who values Izuku above everything else, and he doesn’t even know it.
But that means that Izuku is in love with somebody who isn’t his soulmate. To his soulmate, the love is unrequited.
Izuku was breaking someone else’s heart.
Since Izuku had not given Kacchan a verbal response in far longer than necessary, he heaved himself up off the desk and shoved a hand into his pocket. “It’s a good thing that you have your own name. Somebody cares about you more than anything else in the world. So stop throwing a pity party, and go and enjoy your birthday.”
With that, the blond turned and headed towards the doorway.
The words filled him with ease, but the penny dropped for Izuku within seconds. As Kacchan just reached the doorway, Izuku bolted up from his seat. “Kacchan, what does yours say?”
Kacchan came to a halt, but didn’t turn around. If anything, it looked like his posture stiffened. “None of your fucking business, nerd. We might be friends now, but that shit’s private.”
Following a final curt “tch”, Izuku was left alone in the classroom again.
It all came to a head in their afternoon during their Hero Basic Training class.
The training grounds buzzed with anticipation. Mr Aizawa's exercise was a high-stakes rescue mission gone awry, with teams of 5 acting as villains who interrupted the rescue endeavour against teams of 5 heroes – a scenario holding particular significance for the entire class, given their recent experiences in the war.
The first teams were as followed; the heroes were Sero, Todoroki, Yaoyorozu, Uraraka and Izuku. The villains were Kacchan, Jirou, Kirishima, Iida and Aoyama.
The klaxon sounding showed the beginning of the battle. Instantly, explosions erupted across the battlefield as Kacchan propelled himself towards the heroes. Each blast sent shockwaves through the air, rattling the ground beneath them.
Kacchan, his eyes flickering with determination, surged forward towards Todoroki and his rescue doll, each micro explosion igniting raw power and heating up the room. Each detonation was a symphony of destruction, as if the earth trembled in fear of his ferocity.
With Todoroki distracting Kacchan, Izuku took the opportunity to embrace the rescue. After a jump powered up with Fa-Jin, he threw himself towards the casualties at warp speed and kneeled down beside them.
A few of the dolls had mangled legs, indicating that they’d need carrying to safety. Since the rest of the team had it under control, Izuku decided to take save to win literally.
Normally, Uraraka would’ve jumped at the opportunity to rescue some civilians. It seemed that Gunhead’s martial arts training, and her experience from the war, gave her a taste for combat that might’ve even rivalled Kacchan’s.
Izuku didn’t mind being the protector, though. That’s what heroes do, right?
Todoroki better keep Kacchan at bay, Izuku thought, hoisting two of the dolls onto either of his shoulders. He jerked his head back to check that the coast was clear, and was met with the sight of Todoroki launching a wall of ice towards Kacchan, who dodged it with impressive precision.
"That all you got, you Icy Hot bastard?" He chanted with a gleeful vengeance. Izuku noticed the smoke accumulating from his legs as he'd used his explosions to propel himself away from the hazard, a slight tear evident in the calf of the baggy pants he wore.
Dammit... Izuku had forgotten to mention the hero costume.
However, it didn't deter the other hero.
Kacchan's movements were fluid yet precise; a testament to how much stronger he'd grown since their first battle – heck, since the war . With every explosion, he carved a path between the heroes, who were each aiming obstacles at the ferocious 'villains'.
Yaoyorozu created a series of cannons and aimed them at Kacchan. A part of Izuku’s heart fluttered with fear before realising no, dammit, Kacchan’s on the opposite side, he’s got it under control – but his train of thought was derailed when Iida raced out of nowhere and kicked three of the cannons, sending them flying across the room.
“You’ll have to do better than that, my dear!” Iida bellowed in his faux villain voice, which made Izuku cringe a little.
Behind that chaos, Sero attempted to strap Kacchan to an ice wall that Todoroki had created. In what appeared to be a momentary lapse in judgement – unusual for Kacchan , Izuku thought - Kacchan was firmly taped to the giant shard.
“You fucker!” He screamed, squirming around beneath the grip of the tape.
Izuku cursed himself when his heart dropped at the sight. With his skin being pressed against the ice like that, Kacchan was going to have a tough time accumulating enough sweat to detonate an explosion large enough to free him.
Kacchan was still undeterred, emitting a series of micro-explosions primarily from his back, and from the rest of his body too. None of them were large enough.
For good measure, Sero swung back around, enveloping Kacchan into further tape. “Little stuck there, Bakugou?” Sero jeered with a smug smirk tugging on his lips.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” His explosions grew harsher and, in a very Kacchan-like manner, the pupils in his eyes nearly vanished with rage, leaving just white upturned crescents in their absence. “I’ll kill you and the fucking extras you’ve been sent here to rescue!”
“Silence, villainous scum!” Boy, Yaoyorozu was really getting into character. Although, Izuku suspected she might be unleashing some of her repressed anger onto him in retaliation for all the verbal abuse Kacchan gives the class during their training.
Whatever caused Kacchan to fumble was definitely strange, but the class was definitely taking pleasure in watching him helplessly squirm against the ice.
His explosions gained more traction, causing thunderous rumbles as each explosion got bigger and bigger. Chips and cracks were starting to form in the ice, and Kacchan’s cries of fury were almost louder than the sound of his explosions.
“You’re not going to fucking get away with this!”
A deafening explosion echoed through the training halls, far more powerful than any before it. The force of the blast sent shockwaves rippling through the air as Kacchan finally blew up the ice wall he was held hostage to. Small shards of ice were strewn in every direction, and both teams were sent staggered backwards.
Once Izuku's vision had started to recenter amidst the smoke, he caught a glimpse of Kacchan, his form engulfed in a blinding light as the super-explosion tore through his hero shirt with merciless force. In an instant, the black and orange fabric shredded and eroded away, leaving him exposed and vulnerable in the wreckage.
For a moment, time seemed to slow. Kacchan stood frozen in shock, his expression a mixture of disbelief and embarrassment, which Izuku noted did not suit him. As the smoke cleared, it revealed the scars that marred his chest and the soul mark etched into his skin.
The chaos of battle faded into the background, replaced by a hushed silence that enveloped the training grounds like a heavy blanket. The tension in the air was thick enough that it could be sliced with a blade.
Izuku’s eyes remained firmly locked on the black cursive ink written over his pale pink starburst scar.
‘Kacchan’.
With how silent the training grounds were, Izuku feared that everyone would be able to hear how loud his heart was jackhammering against his ribcage.
Another loud explosion blocked Izuku’s vision for a moment. When the smoke cleared, Kacchan was gone, only traces of cluster stars left in his place and the training room doors slamming shut behind him.
Izuku’s legs moved on their own.
The crackles of One For All gave Izuku’s speed a solid burst, propelling himself forward with a renewed vigour. It didn’t matter that Izuku – and Kacchan – had now bailed out of class and they were going to get so much detention from Mr Aizawa. All he could think of was bridging the short distance between them as fast as he could.
He wasn’t really sure who he was doing it for, though. The brave, caring part of him believed he was chasing Kacchan to check that he was okay after something as intimate as his soulmark got revealed. But the small, selfish, anxious part of him knew he was going to ask for answers.
The trail of cluster stars and smoke led Izuku back to the dorms, but he would’ve been able to figure that out, since Kacchan wasn’t exactly quiet. Every door Kacchan opened slammed behind him at a brutal force, almost tearing one or two of them off their hinges entirely.
Izuku had nearly caught up with the blond when they arrived on their floor of the dorms. He slammed his bedroom door behind him, but not before Izuku kicked his leg out and jammed the jap with his black steel boot.
When Kacchan heard that the door did not close behind him, he turned. The already furious expression painted onto his features only deepend. “Did you fucking follow me? Seriously? Do you have a death wish, shitnerd?”
“Kacchan, are you okay?” Izuku asked through his out-of-breath pants, his brow heavy with sweat.
“Whatever you think you saw,” he spat, all venom, but the subtle waver in his voice revealed something even more sinister than anger. His eye twitched and a vein was almost bulging out of his temple, “you’re dead fucking wrong.”
Channelling a small 2% of One For All, Izuku pushed past the door that Kacchan was blocking and darted into his bedroom. The noise of a wooden crack could be heard, and if Izuku weren’t busy with other pressing matters, he’d have winced. Aizawa was going to kill him for damaging UA property. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about–”
“You don’t fucking get it. I’m not fucking talking about it. Get the fuck out of my room before I explode your ass.”
He scrunched his brows together and ignored the empty threat, despite the fact that Kacchan very much looked as though it was not empty. In fact, Kacchan was giving Izuku an ‘if looks could kill’ kinda stare. “I’m not leaving. Kacchan, going to such extremes to hide your soulmark… It can’t be healthy. Have you told them?”
Like a predator stalking its prey, Kacchan stalked closer to Izuku, backing him up against the door. Their height difference was only a mere matter of centimetres, but with the aura of the blond’s anger filling the room like a smoke bomb had detonated, Kacchan looked terrifying.
“Didn’t I tell you to fucking shut up? Sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong?” Kacchan growled, which was even more frightening than the yelling, Izuku decided.
And yet, despite Izuku knowing full well that he should just leave and let Kacchan have his space, his mouth opened before he had a chance to stop it. “Is it Tsubasa?”
“What?” Kacchan’s gaze examined Izuku’s features, his brows releasing some tension for a second. “Who the fuck is that?”
Izuku blinked, and gulped thickly. It was audible in the room for those few moments where all they could do was stare at one another. “One of the kids we used to spend time with. The one with the wing quirk. He called you ‘Kacchan’ a lot, as well as Kariage, the one with the finger extension quirk–”
The other hero took a clumsy step backwards, having the audacity to look offended. “That doesn’t make any sense, Izuku. How’d you fucking come up with that shitty theory?”
“Uhm…” With the newfound space between them, Izuku’s shoulders sagged in relief. Subconsciously, his hands were brought up over his own heart – his own soulmark – and he ripped at a hangnail. The fidgeting habit still never went away. “What you said… about mine. Implying that I had my own name because I’m supposed to be my soulmate’s most important person. Yours must be the same – but nobody else really calls you Kacchan anymore.”
“And you think it’s those extras we haven’t spoken to in the best part of a decade? You think one of them treasures me above everything else?”
“Well, you still talked to Kariage in middle school. But we lost touch with Tsubasa.”
For some reason, that was the most surprising part of the conversation for Kacchan. He blinked, dumbfounded. “I did? I don’t remember him.”
“Kacchan! He hung out with you every day! He was there when… Uh. The Sludge Villain–”
“Not the fucking point.” A slightly trembling hand dragged its way down Kacchan’s face in exasperation. “If that’s your theory, why do you assume it’s them and not… I don’t know, Dunce Face? He calls me that stupid fucking name too. And we actually still talk most days.”
Hearing that should’ve sent Izuku into a frenzy. He hadn’t even considered Kaminari! But then, he remembered their earlier conversation:
‘Singing’.
“It’s not Kaminari. His soulmark implies that it’s Jirou. Unless you have a secret adoration for singing?” Izuku laughed awkwardly. A clammy hand massaged the back of his neck and the heat rising to his skin only made him blush harder.
The joke didn’t seem to land, though. “So it’s not fucking Kaminari. Great detective work, shit Sherlock. Can you fuck off now?”
“No, I won’t.” A sudden surge of confidence caused Izuku to step closer to Kacchan, looking up into his stunning red eyes, searching for any sense of clarity. “It’s bothering you, so I wanna help. You’ve been going to bed way earlier, you’ve been refusing to change in front of the class, and you ran away as soon as it got exposed. It’s like you’re ashamed of it. Or rather… ashamed of who it is.”
For a moment, Izuku swore he just heard Kacchan’s breath hitch. He returned Izuku’s stare with just as much fervour; piercing, investigating. Like he was the one searching for clarity. “Yeah, you’ve sure as shit been stalking me, nerd.”
“Kacchan!”
“Whatever. Your deductions weren’t that wrong,” Kacchan explained. His voice was low – just above a whisper. “I got this shitty oil I gotta rub into my chest scar. I wasn’t gonna do it in the communal bathroom for the same reason I started getting dressed separately – so nobody would see it. But not for the reason you think.”
Kacchan looked down, his shoulders sagging. Whatever was causing his tension made Izuku’s blood pressure instantly heighten, unable to simmer the worry that was taking control of his whole body.
He perched himself on the edge of the bed, finding himself now unable to meet Izuku’s gaze. “I’m not ashamed of who it is. I figured it out pretty quick. I’m ashamed because they deserve better than this.”
Izuku’s tirade of anxieties came to an abrupt halt. “Nobody could do any better than Kacchan,” he said simply.
Kacchan only responded with a laugh – sad, hollow, empty. “He could do so much better. I was a punk, going through some shit. I treated everyone badly. But he got the worst of it and I don’t want to drag him down with me. Someone else will make him happier than I can.”
‘He’.
Kacchan’s soulmate was a man.
Was Kacchan gay? Or bi? Did he even like men? Or… like anyone in general? Platonic soulmates exist, but some part of this revelation made Izuku a little uneasy.
Izuku lowered himself onto the bed, inches away from the blond, ignoring the twist of agony in his heart. “You’ve been growing into a better person every day, Kacchan. If you’re so important to him, he’d have noticed this and would still adore you for it.”
“Then he’d be a fucking idiot.”
“Nobody who loves you is an idiot. That’s, like, not humanly possible.”
Another laugh. It still rang humourless, but this time, Izuku thought it sounded somewhat lighter, like a weight had been lifted off Kacchan’s chest. “Why are you giving me the pep talk? It’s your birthday. You should be figuring out who the fuck yours is.”
“Kacchan needed me.” Izuku shrugged. “I don’t know who mine could be. But I don’t really mind. I’ll figure it out.”
“The fact that you didn’t figure it out immediately means you’re dumb as shit.” Kacchan finally looked up from staring at the floor, meeting Izuku’s eyes once again. “I got something for ya. Wait here.”
Izuku’s brows furrowed in confusion and anticipation when Kacchan pulled himself up off the bed and opened up his closet. Seconds later, a folded black hoodie was thrown into his lap. He picked it up and unfolded it to take a closer look, immediately noticing the bright orange X over the front of it.
“First merch design. Denim Head pulled a few strings to get me some of the prototypes before official launch. I knew your nerdy ass would go crazy for one of the first ones. Happy birthday, Izuku.”
“Kacchan…” Tears started to burn in Izuku’s eyes, blurring his vision. “This is amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Kacchan took another step forward and dropped to his knees in front of Izuku. He felt silly for crying and tried to wipe the stray tears away with his sleeve, but sudden pressure stopped it – Kacchan had put his hand on Izuku’s wrist.
Izuku’s heart skipped a beat.
“If your soulmate’s most important thing in the world is you,” Kacchan took in a deep breath. The clamminess of his hand wasn’t unexpected, but the slight tremor took Izuku by surprise. “What sort of thing might they do that would prove that?”
“Huh? I don’t know…”
“Being prepared to die for you?”
Izuku blinked. “I guess…?”
Kacchan inhaled again. Deeper, this time. “Twice?”
“...Kacchan, what’s going on?” Izuku’s heart was hammering out of its chest now, so hard that it almost hurt, and blood was ringing in his ears.
“Actually dying for you?”
No. Kacchan couldn’t possibly…
The hand around his wrist pulled gently, guiding Izuku to kneel on the floor in front of Kacchan. “So observant, yet still so oblivious.”
Izuku’s confused frown only deepened at the puzzles, mulling over each riddle like his life depended on it. “I don’t– What–? Kacchan, what are you saying?”
Kacchan’s hand moved up from Izuku’s wrist and found purchase on his jawline, cupping it in what could only be described in an intimate action. Soft. Un-Kacchan-like. “What do you fucking think, dumbass?” He said, in the most tender of voices that made Izuku’s stomach flutter.
Their mouths were only inches apart. Breaths mingling, hot and heavy on each other’s lips, neither one of them making the first move. Their eyes flickered over one another, seeking any semblance of doubt that the other may be harbouring – but none was found.
Izuku couldn’t be sure who made the first move, but their lips were on each other in an instant. Kacchan’s lips were as soft as fresh whipped butter, quickly wondering when the last time Izuku had put any lip balm on. Oh god, what if his lips were all chapped and gross and –
It wasn’t perfect by any means. As amateurs (Izuku hadn’t kissed anyone before, and was making the assumption that Kacchan hadn’t either), there was sometimes too much teeth and too much smiling and bumping their noses against each other, but Izuku didn’t mind. It was perfect because it was Kacchan.
His own hand finds itself entangled in Kacchan’s unruly spikes – which were much softer than he would’ve initially thought. The motion enticed Kacchan to open his mouth a little more, his lips pliant and melting against Izuku’s.
Never would Izuku have expected his 17th birthday to go like this.
Izuku let out an involuntary (and embarrassing) whine when Kacchan pulled away, but pressed their foreheads together. “Stupid Izuku. You’re it for me. You shouldn’t have to be stuck with me, but it looks like the universe had other plans.”
He could only choke out a dumb, unattractive laugh through his tears – one that made Kacchan smile brighter than Izuku had ever seen.
It should’ve been much more obvious, in hindsight.
Kacchan had always been the most important thing in the world to Izuku, no doubt about it. And Kacchan’s behaviours – even the ugly, painful ones back when they were kids – proved that the most important thing to him was Izuku.
It was always going to lead back to Izuku and Kacchan.
Izuku snaked his arm around Kacchan’s shoulder and pulled him into the crook of his shoulder, pressing his lips to the blond’s scalp.
“It’s always been you, Kacchan.”