The Art of Murder

by socksasgloves

Summary:

Katsuki Bakugou commits murder in his free time. Izuku Midoriya is obsessed with homicide. Once they find out about one another’s hobbies, they must compromise on their differences to ensure the truth remains hidden.

Chapter 1: An Accident

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=0eae6b38257945ab

The first time Katsuki killed someone, it was an accident.

 

He was only fourteen years old. He was walking home from school a little later than most of his peers. He didn’t expect to end up with blood on his hands before the day’s end.

 

Katsuki knew his hometown well. Hase was a modest but comfortable city where Katsuki had spent all his life. He knew all the shortcuts and secret routes, the spots where adults never checked in on the truant children who ditched school to have fun. One of the biggest landmarks was the giant abandoned football field, which had one too many incidents of teenagers climbing up the deteriorating goalpost and breaking their limbs when they inevitably fell off. With its salt air and soft waves, the remote beach was only a 20-minute drive from the city’s centre and hosted many summer parties. However, other, more humble places represented Hase and its people. Katsuki knew all the stores and all their owners by heart. The upbeat young man who worked at the convenience store on the corner, the sweet old lady who still worked as a florist on the main street, and the busy supermarket next to his parent’s shop. 

On the dingier side of town were the bars that never checked for ID, the loud clubs that blasted music until sunrise, the run-down restaurants that only scooted by because of regulars, and streets filled with unfortunate souls with nowhere left to turn to. It was a lot more run down, but it was still part of home. Katsuki wasn’t a traveller, so in his future, he only saw himself staying in Hase, making his living selling his art and following in his parent’s footsteps.

 

That fateful day, Katsuki decided to take a short detour to his house. Most days, he walked straight from the middle school to his home, taking the route with which he was most familiar. But that day, the street was preparing for a festival, and hundreds of people were walking around, holding decorations and props as they readied the stalls and entertainment. Katsuki didn’t like crowds and didn’t want to be looped into any activities, so he avoided the main road. He walked through back alleys, covering his mouth to ignore the smells of alcohol and cigarette smoke that lingered. It was still better than being forced into an unwanted conversation.

 

The alleyway he found himself in, just five minutes away from his house, was darker than most. It was the narrow space between an apartment block and a road, so curtain-drawn windows decorated the brown brick walls. Thick layers of barbed wire littered the other side. They were sharp and jagged, so Katsuki hugged the bricks to keep himself away. The roofs shielded the sunlight from hitting anywhere. He had taken out his headphones just to be safe. You could never be too alert in these areas. He was about to step back into the daylight when a man stumbled into his field of vision and blocked his exit. Katsuki frowned and took a step back. The haggard man smelt like cheap booze and was covered in grime.

 

“Outta my way,” Katsuki ordered. The man tilted his head up, and he saw harrowing dark brown eyes staring back. He swayed from side to side, clearly intoxicated. As a teenager, Katsuki was still growing, but he towered over a lot of shorter adults, so he wasn’t scared. He just didn’t want to get too close and would prefer to force the man to leave instead of resorting to physical altercations.

“I said move.” Katsuki still kept his distance, but his voice was firm. The man blocked his path, arms on either side of the narrow alley. Katsuki could see blood seeping from his hands as he gripped the barbed wire.

“Kid,” rasped the man. “You got… a phone?” He slurred his words as he took a clumsy step towards Katsuki, who narrowed his eyes.

“Gonna call your wife and tell her you’re piss drunk in an alleyway?” Katsuki barked. “I don’t think so, dumbass.” He instinctively felt for the phone– it was safely zipped up in his pocket. He was putting more space between him and the drunken stranger. The cheerful conversations with festival workers weren’t looking too bad now.

“I want it,” the man grunted. “Give it to me… or else.”

Katsuki laughed dryly. “Fat fucking chance.” He was starting to get a little worried. It wasn’t just a drunk he had to deal with now. Robberies weren’t uncommon on this side of town, but Katsuki never thought he’d be the target. He wasn’t about to hand anything over, though.

 

A slight flash of silver caught Katsuki’s eye as the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a short blade. His heart skipped at the sight of the knife, and he whipped his head around. If he ran, he could get back to the crowd. But he wasn’t the type of guy to flee from anything, so instead, he steadied his feet.

“You bastard. Couldn’t just let me go home, could you?” Katsuki hissed. He knew how to avoid a knife; that was easy. But with someone who couldn’t walk straight, it would be up to chance and how he dodged. He kept his eyes on the shadowy figure in front of him, and when it charged, he moved out of the way and spun around. Without giving him a second to think, the knife started slashing the air, pushing Katsuki back and forcing him to evade quickly. The slashes were uncoordinated and random, and Katsuki struggled to predict them. The handle of the knife was stained a dark shade of red. Suddenly, the hand he was concentrating on pulled back, and a heavy swing came down on his face. Backed into the brick wall, Katsuki put his hands in front of him, and they dug into the blade, keeping it millimetres away from his eyes.

 

The overwhelming scent of alcohol on his attacker’s breath almost made Katsuki gag. His pounding chest muted the sharp pain of the knife cutting his palms. He pushed back with all his might and kicked the assailant in the knee, which caused him to stumble. Katsuki shoved him back hard, and he tripped over his feet as he fell onto the other side of the alley, decorated with thick barbed wire. Katsuki caught his breath, panting heavily as the scarlet blood poured from his palms. He looked up to face the stranger, and a horrified gasp escaped his mouth at the sight.

 

A stray piece of barb had pierced the man’s throat, and the wire had gone right through it. It protruded from the middle of his neck, and the surrounding skin was stained red. Gurgling sounds filled the damp air, making Katsuki’s stomach churn. Another sturdy wire had impaled him through the shoulder, and the trails of blood danced around his arm in a mesmerising pattern. As much as he wanted to turn away and run, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of the man’s last breaths, the way his eyes fought for the final thread of life. It was hypnotic in a sick and twisted way that filled Katsuki with burning shame. But as the ragged breathing slowed and the man’s arms dropped limply down to his side, Katsuki couldn’t help the adrenaline rush flowing through his entire body. It was a thrilling feeling. Indescribable. Bliss was injected straight into his veins. Katsuki stood in the alley, staring at what he had done. After a few minutes, he felt as though a string had been cut, and all the consequences of reality came crashing down. Katsuki panicked and pulled out his phone, wincing at the pain in his hands that he was starting to feel now. He dialled the police and waited next to the corpse as he explained the situation to the officers en route.

 

When the officers arrived, they were met with a trembling boy who they assumed must've come across a body on the way home from school. However, taking one look at Katsuki’s injuries was proof that something else had occurred. He told the investigators that the man had attempted to rob him, but he fought back, and after they scuffled, Katsuki had frozen up with fear and was too late to attempt any sort of aid. This was believed thanks to a security camera in a window above the alley and the autopsy results. The case was closed quickly. Katsuki was not considered a murderer, and instead, his actions were deemed self-defence. Because of his young age, the incident was not made public, and nothing went on his permanent record. He was told he could put the whole thing behind him and recover from the traumatic memory without worrying about if he would be falsely charged.

 

But Katsuki knew he had a role in the death of his attempted robber. He had indeed frozen at the sight of the injured man, but it wasn’t out of fear. He couldn’t explain the feeling he had, watching the blood drain out of his face and collect into ruby puddles on the ground. The way the light faded from his eyes as his last breath drew near and the sight of his pointless struggle. What would have terrified a regular person was something Katsuki found captivating. He liked watching it, and that made him feel sick. 

 

What in the fuck is wrong with me?! 

 

The question circled in his mind for months. But no logical answer came. Some people in the world had morbid curiosity, but he was not one of them. He was a fierce kid, always getting into scraps and fighting, but never, ever intended to kill anyone. Katsuki had never dreamed of it. Now, having the image of someone dying engraved in his brain was driving him insane.

On the one hand, he felt disgusting deriving joy over something horrendous. But on the other hand, the feeling of pure, unadulterated exhilaration he felt at that moment was addicting, and his body craved that feeling again. No matter how much Katsuki chastised himself, telling himself he was a revolting monster for desiring that experience, the feeling didn’t go away, and it was getting dangerous. He was lashing out more often and going further and further. Where he may have just punched someone in the shoulder, he was now breaking their arms like twigs. Katsuki couldn’t control himself. His first kill, despite it being accidental, was a fire lit in his soul that couldn’t be extinguished, no matter how much effort he put in to try and snuff out the flames. And it had taken a while, but he had eventually found a way to keep it in check. It wasn’t exactly the right thing to do, but it worked.

Now, four years later, Katsuki was in the second half of his final year of education at Hase High School, where he was just another student. He was considered popular, mostly thanks to being friends with a few other kids who were more outgoing and extroverted than he. Katsuki wasn’t stupid; he knew some people were drawn to the “loner” archetype he exhibited at school, but he had absolutely no interest in expanding his social group. He knew he had a reputation for being rude and saying nasty things to those who didn’t know him, but if that’s what it took to keep people from trying to befriend him, Katsuki would handle the rumours. Even those he was considered to be “close” with, their friendship was surface level - they paired up for class activities, studied and did homework together, and Katsuki got invited to parties and get-togethers on the regular. But none of his friends were people he felt comfortable talking about anything too serious. It didn’t bother him. Katsuki was fine with their superficial relationship.

 

Katsuki’s parents were semi-retired fashion designers and owned a large thrift store that stood proudly in the middle of town. They used to design for public figures and celebrities in the prime of their careers, but after settling down and having a son, they decided to take a backseat and focus on their family more. Now that Katsuki was older and individualistic, they had started trying to branch out again, but it was somewhat of an uphill battle due to Hase being such a small town. They often left for trips to the big cities to try and grasp opportunities. Katsuki worked at the thrift store on weekday afternoons, which consisted of standing at the counter for about 4 hours until the sun went down and he could lock up and go home. It was an easy job for which he was thankful. What he was more thankful for was the free time it gave him.

Katsuki kept his hobbies from out of sight. Like his parents, he was an artist, but his medium of choice was painting and illustrating instead of clothing. He had a sketchbook that was kept hidden under the counter of the checkout, filled with scribbles that Katsuki did in order to pass the time. It was something he didn’t want people to find out about since he had to keep up appearances. Plus, his drawings were insanely personal, and letting others see glances inside his mind would be embarrassing. 

 

After working, Katsuki would head home and greet his hard-working parents. They had a very one-note relationship that faltered as he grew older. They hardly saw each other, and only at dinner and the store would they exchange fleeting words. But that didn’t bother Katsuki. He had grown up being taught to be independent. He was more than capable of taking care of himself. Katsuki knew that many things in the world would have to be dealt with alone. That included his own problems.

 

Katsuki was 18 now and was expected to act like an adult. On the outside looking in, it didn’t look like Katsuki was anything other than an ordinary young man. He studied, worked, and engaged in casual hobbies. But there was a side to him he had to wrangle under his own control, something he could never tell anyone about.

 

After his incident with his unintentional kill, the compulsion to hurt another person grew and grew inside Katsuki. It reached a point where he couldn’t push it away anymore, lest he cause pain to someone he did care about. So, two months after the event, Katsuki started secretly researching methods on how to get away with murder. It wasn’t long after that he committed his first crime - his target was a man who lived in the poor parts of Hase. He had been ostracised from the community after it came to light that he abused his wife and three children. Katsuki figured that no one would particularly miss him. So, in the dead of night, he snuck out of his room, carefully avoiding any camera placements he had acknowledged prior and tracked down his victim. Armed with a sharp blade, Katsuki quickly slit the man’s throat as he slept, watching the blood pour out of his wound and stain the concrete he lay on. That thrill, the gaiety he felt as the life left the man’s body returned, and the feeling was indescribable. It calmed all the anger he had felt as he tried to suppress it the previous three months, and the itch Katsuki had previously been relentlessly tormented with was scratched.

 

This sinister cycle was one Katsuki could not break now, no matter how much he wanted to. It was a drug he had to keep chasing if he wanted to keep his sanity. But he also felt cursed. Why was he doomed to fall into this rabbit hole, digging himself deeper and deeper with each life he stole? He had no reason to do it except to chase the euphoric feeling that couldn’t be substituted any other way. As soon as the sensation was over, shame overtook every cell in his body, and he begged for a way to escape his fate. But there was nothing he could do. Katsuki had accepted that he was building his own staircase to Hell and plummeting down it at a rapid pace.

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October was a cool month. Summer had passed, and the air was beginning to become more frigid. The thick jackets that typically stayed tucked at the back of Katsuki’s closet found use again. His mother, Mitsuki, began cooking more hot meals to warm up her growing son. The young boy was bundled up in his warmest clothes as he sat at his desk, silently browsing the forum he had been a frequenter of since his deadly hobby started.

 

It was a website that couldn’t be accessed by regular search engines and was very difficult to track down if you didn’t know precisely what you were looking for. Katsuki had taught himself all about the encryption and anonymity required to access the site, and he was quite familiar with the interface now. 

The forum was home to thousands of topics, but he was singularly interested in the one where users were encouraged to share the identities of people who had wronged them in severe ways. Katsuki had read stories about thousands of abusers, rapists, scammers, cheaters and dozens of other criminals. He had never posted– he lurked on the website and scrolled through the submissions, searching for a story that resonated with his compulsion to kill. Once Katsuki had identified a victim he could attack without too much risk of getting caught, he began planning a route to get to them safely. Then, when he felt like the murderous itch was getting too much, he set a date to sneak out under the cover of the night sky and enact his plan. This system had worked for him flawlessly for nearly four years. Katsuki was honestly surprised he had not been caught or even suspected of anything during his time being active. He wasn’t sure if he should be proud of himself or disappointed in law enforcement. Sure, he was cautious, but the police had a huge technological advantage over a single boy with a knife. Katsuki wasn’t going to complain, but it was truly a miracle that he wasn’t in jail.

 

Tonight, Katsuki was searching for a new target. The forum he frequented had gotten a small amount of recognition – the members suspected that someone was reading their stories and taking care of the people they posted about. Some of the submissions were childish. Immature people asked for their parents to be killed because they dared enforce discipline. Others requested targets that would be impossible for Katsuki to get away with, so he ignored those. The post that caught his eye mentioned a man named Rokurou Shinkawa, who the user described as an abusive boss who took advantage of his employees at the Hase Beach Bar. The anonymous poster wrote that they had witnessed the man attacking an employee, and he had been using his power to force them into lengthy, illegal shifts and pressuring them into working more than they were scheduled, causing mental stress. They also added that this wasn’t the only incident, and Shinkawa had many more crimes under his belt that had been swept under the rug. Katsuki’s interest was piqued. He opened another tab and searched for the man’s name. A few results came up, mostly news articles that were a couple of years old. They described allegations against Shinkawa that female employees had filed against him, mainly related to sexual assault. A little bit more research showed that all the charges were dropped due to lack of evidence, and the women had been forced into silence by Shinkawa’s lawyers.

 

Katsuki gritted his teeth. He had read so many horror stories, and no matter how many abhorrent tales he absorbed, he still felt sick to his stomach when he saw the number of people who did not get any sort of justice. Of course, he certainly wasn’t innocent himself. He’d lost track of the numerous lives he’d taken out of his own selfish desires. However, it was not his intention to serve vengeance – it was merely a fortunate coincidence that those who committed disgusting crimes were the easiest targets for him to fulfil his urges. Katsuki began mapping out his plan of attack. He found Shinkawa’s house; it wasn’t a far distance for him at all. He got into the employer’s dashboard and was able to see the schedule – Shinkawa worked late at night. Perfect.

 

Katsuki closed all the tabs except the original forum post and bookmarked it so he could check on it later. He turned off his computer, shut off the light, and crawled into his warm bed. He felt his stomach churning as he drifted off. The compulsion was growing stronger.

“Yo, Bakugou, have you ever been to that bar on the other side of town? The really grot one?”

Denki Kaminari was bright-eyed and had way more energy than Katsuki at 8:00 on a Wednesday morning. It didn’t help that Katsuki’s night had been occupied by him cleaning his bloodstained clothes instead of sleeping. Katsuki put his outdoor shoes safely in his locker before turning to face his loud-mouthed friend.

“No,” he said.

“Well, check it out!” Kaminari shoved his phone into Katsuki’s face, where a headline announced that the owner of the bar had been found dead on the side of the road. Katsuki kept a poker face as he read about his own crime scene.

“Ah. He died.”

“Someone slit the dude’s throat!” Kaminari shuddered. “I heard it was super gruesome.”

Internally, Katsuki rolled his eyes. Wasn’t even that bad. But he kept his lips tightly sealed.

“Ugh, don’t tell me you’re talking about that bar owner.” Kirishima walked up to his friends, rubbing his eyes. “My mom’s already chatted my head off about it this morning.”

“Your mom’s on the case, Kirishima?” asked Kaminari. The boy removed his shoes and swapped them over before shaking his head.

“No, she’s got bigger fish to fry. It sucks, but there’s just too much crime and not enough cops. An isolated murder is generally not a priority. It’s dark, but that’s the truth. But this one is stressing her out.”

“How so?” The trio walked through the halls, towering over the first and second-year students. All three of them easily cleared six feet, with Katsuki being the tallest at 6’2”. They squeezed through the barrage of teenagers as they headed towards their homeroom.

“Well, apparently, he was under investigation for attacking one of his employees,” Kirishima said. “And he’s had charges against him in the past. But when the person you’re investigating is murdered, it just creates a whole lot more issues.” He ran his hand through his crimson hair. “At least, that’s what I got out of my mom. She tends to ramble a lot about work when she’s under pressure.”

This was another element that added to the reasons Katsuki had managed to evade capture even after committing murders for so many years. They were spread out enough that they weren’t likely to be linked, and he never went after anyone he had direct ties to. Not only was he cautious and efficient, but the areas he targeted most often were the slums of Hase. His victims were also not very well-liked or missed. The paltry police force just couldn’t spare the resources it took to investigate, and even if they could, there was rarely enough evidence left behind to convict anyone.

 

“That’s crazy.” Kaminari rubbed the back of his neck. “It seems like every couple of months, a person on the bad side of Hase winds up dead, and no one ever finds out who did it.”

“There’s a lot of gang activity over there,” Kirishima sighed. “Drugs and stuff. That ends up in blood a lot more often than you think. That’s why my moms never let me go near it.”

“But this occasion’s different, isn’t it?” Katsuki asked. “Since the guy was a business owner and all.”

“Yeah, it’s strange,” Kirishima shrugged. “I feel bad for my mom. She works so hard, and I know she just wants to find the person doing this and lock them away.”

Katsuki felt his blood run ice cold. It was such sweet irony that the person Kirishima’s mom was after was her own son’s classmate. He’d met her a few times, and she was always hospitable to him and Kirishima’s other friends. But despite the guilt, not a muscle twitched in Katsuki’s face.

“You know, if your mom needs a pick me up, feel free to give her my digits,” Kaminari winked, sticking out his pinky and thumb into a phone.

Kirishima playfully shoved his friend into the wall. “Shut the hell up, jackass.”

 

The three seniors arrived at their homeroom, pushing through a second-year group to get to the door. Katsuki was absorbed in thought, so he didn’t notice one of them was in his way until they ran into him, snapping Katsuki out of his thoughts. His eyes focused on the underclassman, a slightly shorter boy with unruly hair and wide eyes consumed with joy. Katsuki turned towards the homeroom door.

“Sorry,” he called out absentmindedly. The boy noiselessly disappeared into the crowd as Katsuki took his seat, Kirishima and Kaminari following and sitting next to him, ogling their friend.

“Did you just say ‘sorry’?” Kaminari chuckled. “Who are you, and what have you done with our mean, grumpy Bakugou?”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Hah?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologise, especially to an underclassman,” Kirishima commented. “Must’ve had a good night’s rest for once, dude.”

Katsuki scowled. “Shut up, idiots.”

“Be careful, man,” Kaminari laughed. “Your bad boy rep is gonna crumble if you keep using manners.”

His annoying laughter persisted as Katsuki leaned over and punched him in the shoulder.

 

Katsuki was distracted by his previous night’s kill. Maybe a business owner wasn’t the best person to go after. I didn’t think about the current questioning he might be involved in.

The teacher eventually arrived, and the class was silent while he read the morning announcements. Although Katsuki was only half listening; his thoughts swirled around his head as he poked holes in his recent attack.

 

I still have no ties to the bastard, so it should be fine, really. I was careful to avoid cameras, but now I’ve gotta keep in mind not to go after people in active investigations. And since he’s got so many enemies, there will be plenty of others the blame might fall on. 

Most of his murders were cold cases now. The ones that weren’t had been unfairly pinned on others, and with the justice system the way it was, there wasn’t much hope for those falsely convicted. To keep his sanity, Katsuki ignored the thoughts that wracked him with remorse, reminding him how selfish of a person he was to lead an innocent person to rot in jail. He shook them out of his brain and paid attention to the class. Katsuki had put a lid on the compulsions temporarily. He could continue his life as a normal kid for the moment.

After school was over, Katsuki walked silently to his parents' store, which had a few customers perusing the endless aisles of clothes. It was a large building with music echoing quietly from the busted speakers. Katsuki made his way to the employee room, where his mother was packing up her things to leave him alone for the afternoon.

“Katsuki,” she greeted. “How was school?”

“Fine.”

“That’s good.” Mitsuki paused. “Ah, your father and I are going to Yokohama this weekend. We won’t be back till Monday.” 

Katsuki shrugged. “Alright.”

“Oh, and there’s buy one get one free on all the women’s shorts. We have to get rid of them to make room for the winter shit.”

“Gotcha.”

Mitsuki hoisted her bag over her shoulder and patted her son endearingly on the head. “Alright, bud. I’m off. You’re in charge.”

“See you at dinner.” His mother's blonde head disappeared through the door, and Katsuki walked into the bathroom to change out of his school uniform. Her strained voice reverberated in his skull as he folded the blazer and shoved it into his bag. Their relationship had been rocky for a while, but Katsuki had no idea where to start if he wanted to mend it. And it certainly couldn’t happen while he was regularly going through with his crimes. Still, the more distant he was from his parents, the less likely they’d try and snoop into his business and discover anything they shouldn’t. His parents let him get away with a lot, but premeditated murder may be pushing their boundaries a little.

 

Katsuki pulled on the white polo shirt with the store’s name printed neatly on the breast pocket. He kept his uniform on from the waist down– after all, no one could see it behind the counter. Katsuki ignored the nametag that was in his locker and placed his school bag inside it, locking it tightly. He walked out onto the shop floor and took his place behind the register. It looked like it might be a slow afternoon, so he pulled out the sketchbook he kept hidden under the counter and flipped open to an empty page. The lead pencil balanced carefully between his fingers as he tried to think of what to draw. 

He mostly sketched what he saw, or things that happened throughout the day. He had pages of his classmates, his parents, strangers and the like. Katsuki put his pencil to the paper and began making broad strokes, creating a shape out of methodless lines. The marks began to take form, and Katsuki’s foggy mind recalled the face of the underclassman he had bumped into that morning. He’d never seen him before today, and he didn’t know anything about the boy, but his wild viridian hair appeared effortlessly on Katsuki’s page. Those oversized eyes, filled with inexplicable excitement, stuck to Katsuki like glue. After he had completed the rough sketch, he put his pencil down and stared at it, trying to recreate the boy’s face from memory. The features seemed a little off, like something was missing, but he had no clear picture to compare his drawing to. He frowned. If only he could get another glance at his face.

“Excuse me?” came a female voice.

Katsuki slammed his book shut and looked up. A young girl with a bundle of clothes was waiting at the register.

“Are- are you serving?” she asked nervously.

Katsuki blinked a few times, erasing the unknown boy from his mind. “Yeah, yeah.” He took her items and began scanning. “Do you need a bag?”

The weekend came fast. Katsuki liked having the house to himself. He couldn’t wait until he had his own space, where he could do whatever he wanted with no chance of extra eyes on him. Katsuki was very much an alone-time person, able to enjoy his own company.

Katsuki had woken up late, as he typically did on Sundays. The rays of sunlight that spilled into his room and patterned the carpet told him it was around noon. Slowly, he got up and stretched, blinking away the remnants of the previous night’s dreamless sleep. He stumbled into the bathroom, turned on the cold water and splashed it into his face to wake up.

I hope the old man left me food, Katsuki thought as he reached for his toothbrush. I’m so hungry.

Katsuki pulled on a shirt and pants and walked into the kitchen, opening the cabinets above his head. There were enough groceries in the pantry and fridge to cook something, but he was feeling lazy, so he just grabbed a bag of spicy potato chips and tore it open.

What do I have to get done today? His thoughts wandered as he crunched down on his snack. I think we might have math homework… I can do that later. Katsuki glanced over to the studio room, where dozens of easels lived, and the walls were splattered with colour. Maybe I should work on that painting.

 

Katsuki’s daydreaming was interrupted by a subtle knock at the door. He turned to the sound and raised an eyebrow. The Bakugou household rarely got visitors, and they weren’t expecting anything to come today. Katsuki was tempted to ignore it, but there wasn’t any harm in opening and just telling the person to go away. He left his snack on the kitchen counter and walked over to the door. Before opening it, he listened for any sound outside. Silence. He frowned. Maybe it was a kid playing a dumb prank.

Then, with his hand on the doorknob, he heard another knock and immediately flung the door open. The stranger gasped, his hand still in the air from knocking. Katsuki furrowed his brow. It was a young boy, just under a head shorter than him. He wore a light blue hooded jacket and a black t-shirt under it. His tanned face was home to dotted freckles that spanned over his cheeks and round nose, but there was also a vivid purple bruise under his right eye. Those eyes, which shot open with surprise, were a shade of green Katsuki had never seen before. Only when he acknowledged the mop of curly hair on his head did Katsuki finally recognise the kid. It was the underclassman he’d bumped into in school hallways a few days ago. The one he had a drawing of in his sketchbook.

 

“Who the hell are you?” Katsuki demanded. The boy immediately looked smaller under his sharp gaze, and he fiddled with the strings of his jacket.

“Um- I’m here because I-” His voice was trembling, but not out of fear. It sounded closer to respect. A strange feeling cut through Katsuki’s chest at the tone.

“Speak up, dammit,” he barked. “If you’re tryin’ to sell me shit, I’m not interested.” 

“No- I’m… I’m not.” His emerald eyes darted from side to side anxiously. “I just- I wanted to tell you…” His soft voice trailed off.

Katsuki sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t have the fuckin’ time for this.” He went to close the door, but it was stopped. Katsuki looked down to see the boy’s bright red sneakers blocking the doorframe. He snapped his head up to glare at him.

“What the fuck? What is your problem?”

The boy swallowed hard before tilting his head up to meet Katsuki’s harsh gaze. For the first time, his eyes looked unafraid.

 

“I know that you’ve killed someone.”

Notes:

hello and welcome to my second long fic ever! wow!! i put a lot of thought and effort into this, and i know the premise is a little edgelordy, but i have a lot of genuine themes and things to say in this story and i’m trying my best to make it grounded and not cringy to read lolol. also, if you’re worried about the lack of deku in the first chapter, don’t worry you’re not going to be able to get enough of him soon LMAO.

full disclosure: this is 100% toxic codependence and deku and kacchan bond over dubiously justified murder. obviously do not take this as an endorsement. duh. i just like writing stories with darker tones. ┐(ᄑ_ᄑ)┌

hope you enjoy! i don’t know what the schedule will be but unfortunately it won’t be daily like my last fic (╯︵╰,) i want to put more effort into the chapters and try to make them all a decent length, but don’t worry it’ll still be frequent

thoughts, shares & kudos are very much appreciated !!

Chapter 2: A Thorn

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=0eae6b38257945ab

“I know that you’ve killed someone.”

 

Katsuki’s heart dropped to his stomach. Six simple words had stopped time for him, and his eyes went wide. It’d barely been said above a whisper. The smaller boy was standing in the way of the door, patiently waiting for a response. Katsuki clenched his jaw and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him inside. He slammed the door shut and faced the wall. Katsuki was acutely aware of the presence behind him, but his mind was racing so fast that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mahogany wood of his front door. 

 

How in the hell had this random kid found out about his murders? Katsuki was unbelievably cautious when it came to planning his crimes. He would track down areas with the least people around so he could always be alone with his targets. Before he decided on a night, he would covertly check the scene during the day, finding all the blind spots and if any security cameras protected the place. And he was constantly hyper-aware of his surroundings at all times in case of witnesses. Katsuki had perfected his craft. He outlined everything. He had an eye for the smallest detail. Even if he made a mistake, Katsuki knew how to bounce back flawlessly. So, how was it possible that this scrawny kid was familiar with his crimes? How much did he know? And how had he found him?

 

Scenarios ran through Katsuki’s imagination like speeding bullets. The boy had not made a peep, and Katsuki still had his back to him. He was trying to think of a plan, but nothing he came up with was going to turn out in his favour. 

What the fuck am I supposed to do? No one’s ever discovered me before. Should I kill him? I don’t know how I’d be able to. I obviously can’t do it here. And if he’s told others about his plan to meet me, then I’d be a glaring suspect. No, I can’t kill him. It’s out of the question. Does anyone else know about it? He did come alone. Is he planning to blackmail me with exposition? I guess I’ll have to find out. I have to watch what I say. He could be recording me.

 

Katsuki slowly inhaled as his heart rate slowed down to a normal pace. He turned around and folded his arms across his chest. The boy perked up and stood up a little straighter. Katsuki frowned.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked.

“My name? Oh–” He averted his eyes and looked left and right before landing back on Katsuki’s glare. “You can call me Deku.”

Pseudonym, huh? So, he wasn’t entirely careless. Katsuki could easily find his name through the school website, but giving himself a nickname was a decent start.

“Deku,” Katsuki repeated carefully. “So you wanna explain how the fuck you know about–”

“Wait.” Deku stepped forward. “Is this place– I mean, can we talk freely here?”

Katsuki’s ruby eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to say anything that’ll incriminate you, that’s all.”

The cogs turned in his brain as Katsuki stared at Deku in shock. He was worried about incriminating Katsuki? It didn’t make sense. He was expecting the boy to confront him and demand an explanation, threaten to go to the authorities and probably end up blackmailing him for something. But to express caution? That was beyond unexpected.

 

“You– What? You’re worried about implicating me?” Katsuki spluttered. 

Deku nodded. “Yeah. Like, do you have cameras or anything?”

OK, he’s either an idiot, or he’s acting like one to get me to lower my guard. Katsuki still hadn’t forgotten the thought of being recorded by Deku, but it was odd that he was worried about Katsuki being implicated in his own house.

“No, I don’t have cameras in here,” Katsuki sneered.

“Are you sure?” Deku asked. “Because if we talk about it, and it gets overheard, it could be really bad for–”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Katsuki shouted. “Stop with the tiptoeing around this shit! Just tell me how the fuck you know what you know! Who are you, and how did you find me?”

Deku flinched, and he rubbed his arm nervously. “Um, well, y-you… your target was… my boss.”

Katsuki stopped frowning. “Your boss?”

He nodded. “Shinkawa. The owner of the bar down by the slums? I work there. Well, I did , it’s uh- It’s closed down for a few weeks. I’m a food runner there. Um… that’s not important. Basically, he– uh…” Deku’s forest green eyes filled with misty tears. “Um, he– he’s been taking a–advantage of me for months. Making me work illegally for more hours with no breaks and less pay and forcing me to do things I wasn’t hired to do. And he treated others the same or worse, too. I-I was trying to just keep my head down and do it without complaining since I really needed the job. But less than a week ago…” His shaky hand reached up to his face, and his fingertips floated over the purple bruise. “Um– he hit me with a pan fresh off the stove. Because I finally stood up to him. And- that got me so mad that I–”

“Oh my God.” It all clicked. Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re the one who made that damn post.” He abandoned the idea that Deku was recording the conversation, given that he’d just confessed to a crime of his own.

Deku smiled widely, and Katsuki saw that clear braces decorated his white teeth. “Yeah! I– I made the post. And you saw it, and… you took care of it for me. So I- I just wanted to thank you in person.”

“Thank me?” Katsuki laughed dryly. “Are you fuckin’ nuts? I murdered the bastard.”

Deku nodded giddily. “I know! That’s why I’m saying thank you!”

Oh, great, Katsuki groaned internally. This guy’s a total lunatic.

 

“Alright,” Katsuki said cooly. “You’ve explained who you are and why you’re here. But you have to tell me how you found me now.”

“Oh, that was easy!” Deku beamed. “I thought you might target him, so I was watching him for a few nights before you ended up killing him. I saw you do it, but I didn’t see your face. So, I had to track you down using the forum. You bookmarked the post, and that let me find your user. That led me to your house.”

Katsuki felt fury bubble in his chest. For the first time, he hadn’t noticed a witness. Where the hell had Deku been hiding? It didn’t really matter now. Someone who saw Katsuki committing a murder was standing in his house. It was his worst nightmare come to life. And, Deku had gotten past the layers of encryption that hid the forum posts and tracked down his personal address. Katsuki had trusted the anonymous site for years, and he’d never had any trouble with it before. All that faith may as well have burnt into ash now.

Although, Deku didn’t seem to have any nefarious intentions. His doe-eyed look was one of pure awe, and it was giving Katsuki the creeps. Why was he so amazed at the idea that Katsuki had killed someone?

“You go to Hase. I’ve seen you around school a few times,” Deku continued. “You-you're an upperclassman, right? I’m a grade below you, but– I was just thinking, maybe you and I could–”

“What? Be best buddies?” Katsuki interrupted. “Do you want me to do your hair and make you a friendship bracelet, too? You’re insane. I’m not going to be friends with a small fry like you, and I’m certainly not going to be friends with someone who stalked me and tracked down my goddamn house.”

Deku looked down, dejected. “I’m sorry about that,” he said sincerely. “Truly, I am. I know it’s wrong. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Uh- that sounds kind of weird. I mean… you really did me a favour by getting rid of my boss. I had to say thank you. And I just have so many questions about it… I’d like to learn from you… if you’d let me.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “You want to… learn? Do you also-” His voice got caught in his throat. “Have you killed anyone?”

Deku shook his head. “No.”

 

Ah. Awesome. So I am just a fucking freak of nature with the worst hobby ever.

“I honestly just want to know more about what you did,” Deku said. “I promise. I’m not scared of you.”

Katsuki scowled. “Well, you should be. Because if I find out you've told others I’ve murdered people, I’m going to–”

“People?” Deku interjected. “So you’ve killed more? I thought it was just the one.”

Oops. That was a rookie mistake. However, Deku’s face lit up at the thought that Katsuki’s kill count was higher than he initially believed.

“Fuck’s sake,” Katsuki sighed. “I swear to God, you better keep your motormouth shut–”

“Wait, how many people have you killed? Do you always pick people from the forum? A bunch of people have theorised that someone on there is the one taking the submissions, but I guess I know it’s true now! Is that where you get all your information? Or do you look into the victims more thoroughly? I know it's predominantly people who’ve committed irredeemable crimes that you target. How do you get them alone? What does your planning look like? What happens when–”

Katsuki slammed his hand against Deku’s mouth. The boy's constant yapping was seriously getting on his nerves. Deku’s eyes got wide at the contact before Katsuki pulled his hand back and wiped it on his shirt.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed. “Seriously, has anyone ever told you that you talk way too fucking much?”

“Uh- many times-”

“It was rhetorical, dipshit.”

Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. This boy was now a pebble in his path that wouldn’t be easy to kick away. As long as he was around, Katsuki had a potential enemy to look out for. It didn’t matter how much he said he admired the acts Katsuki had committed. He was always going to be wary of Deku turning on him. But for now, Katsuki was stuck. He couldn’t do anything to Deku. If he tried to report him for stalking, he’d have to explain why Deku had tracked him down. And if Katsuki attempted to push him away, he might risk Deku getting mad and telling others about his crimes.

 

“Are you… really going to kill me?” Deku asked quietly.

Katsuki covered his face with his hand. “No. As long as you can keep your mouth shut, you can keep your pulse.” He put his other hand on the door. “You’ve overstayed your welcome. Time to go now.”

“Wait.” Deku walked beside him, looking up into his narrow red eyes. “I was thinking… Maybe we should start talking at school.”

Katsuki laughed in his face. A fleck of spit landed on his cheek, and Deku cringed as he wiped it off.

“Oh, should we? And why’s that?”

“Well…” He bit his lip. “In case you want to… keep an eye on me.”

His mood snapped, and Katsuki angrily grabbed Deku’s shoulders and pulled him close to his face. He could easily count his freckles. “So you are planning on telling people, you lying bastard.”

Deku innocently batted his eyes, not faltering for a second. “I implied nothing of the sort.”

Katsuki had never wanted to punch an underclassman more in his life. He let Deku go and put his hands on his hips, glaring at the younger boy. In the silence, Deku’s eyes began to wander, and his gaze landed on Katsuki’s room. The nameplate hanging from the door was in full view. Deku grinned.

“So… your name’s Ka-” 

Katsuki darted over and covered his name with his hand, glaring at his uninvited guest. Deku merely continued to smile.

“I can work with that.” He put his finger to his lips and tapped. “Ka-san. No. Ka-kun. Mmm…” He snapped his fingers. 

“Ka-chan!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes at the childish nickname. “What are you, four years old?” He walked over and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Give me your phone.”

Deku brightened up. “My phone?”

“You want me to keep an eye on you? Give me your phone so I can text you if I need to, idiot.”

Deku quickly pulled his cell out of his hoodie and unlocked it before handing it to Katsuki. He scrolled through the apps and clicked on the contacts, creating a new profile and punching in his number.

“You better not fucking spam me,” he muttered as he handed the phone back. “Or I’m blocking you. And don’t ever mention anything related to… you know what over text.”

“I won’t, I promise, Kacchan!”

The alias Deku had created for Katsuki sounded strange when it fell on his ears, but he begrudgingly accepted it. He didn’t have the energy to argue. “Whatever.”

Deku put his hand on the doorknob, preparing to leave for real this time. He could hardly contain the grin on his face.

 

“Wait.”

Deku paused and turned around. “Yeah?”

“One more thing.” He walked over and looked down. Katsuki was taller than most, but Deku wasn’t exactly tiny himself. From an estimate, he was about 5’6” or 5’7”, and the top of his head came just under Katsuki’s chin. His curls probably gave him a couple centimetres of height, but Katsuki easily towered over him.

“Did you tell anyone else about why you came here?” he asked. “Or mention me to anyone at all?”

Deku shook his head. “No. I came here alone, and I didn’t tell anyone why.” He tilted his head to the side and smiled sweetly. “Don’t worry, Kacchan. To the cameras and the outsiders, it looks like I’m just visiting a friend from school.” He opened the door and slipped out, shutting it quietly behind him.

Katsuki peaked through the curtains of his front window as Deku walked down the driveway and disappeared down the street. Frustrated, he clenched his jaw and pulled the curtains together to block out the world. He was in a bind. Prior to this, Katsuki never had to worry about an accomplice; now, he had this borderline fanboy who knew the truth about what he did. Deku was a thorn in his side that would cause a gushing wound if he wasn’t careful.

Katsuki threw himself onto the couch face first. As he replayed the conversation, so many things swarmed his mind, and he wondered what the hell he was going to do now.

For one, Katsuki threatened Deku, which, firstly, didn’t seem to faze the boy at all. The lack of self-preservation freaked Katsuki out and added to the list of reasons he didn’t like him. But more importantly, he recalled his own rule that he’d set in stone four years ago when he began his spree: No killing any witnesses. It would turn him into someone who was engaging in murder out of what he felt was a necessity and turn it into something more sinister. It would break him. Katsuki had held this rule close to his chest. The way around it was to simply never get spotted, and he had a perfect record before today. Now, he had Deku involved, someone who was a complete stranger to him. Katsuki wondered if he could actually trust him. Despite the apparent admiration, something burrowed inside him and made him doubt the intentions of his schoolmate.

Katsuki flipped over on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. He decided he could put a little bit of faith in the boy. If Deku had wanted Katsuki arrested then and there, he would have shown up at his doorstep with the cops, and Katsuki would be in handcuffs. He picked up his phone, and as he did, a notification from an unknown number popped up on his screen.

 

[UNKNOWN] - 13:23

Hi!! It’s Deku! Just checking this is you, Kacchan! (*¯︶¯*)/

 

Of course the damn nerd used stupid emoticons in his texts. Katsuki rolled his eyes and typed back a message. 

 

[YOU] - 13:24

obviously it’s me you idiot

 

Katsuki saved Deku’s contact and shut off his phone, throwing it onto the ground and letting it slide across the wooden floor. He put his head in his hands and groaned.

 

He’s gonna turn out to be a giant pain in my ass, isn’t he?

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

At school the next week, Katsuki was frequently on edge. It had been about four days since Deku had invited himself to his house, and now the second year was all he could see. Katsuki was puzzled at how he had never spotted the boy with green hair before – he stuck out in the crowds of younger students like a sore thumb. He also learned Deku’s real name by flipping through the yearbook: Izuku Midoriya. He wasn’t exactly sure how he had gotten “Deku” from that, but Katsuki preferred the nickname.

 

For once, Katsuki was early to school, sitting at his desk in an empty homeroom. His chin sat comfortably on his hand as he stared into space. His expression to outsiders was neutral,  but inside, he was stressed out of his mind. No matter how much he tried to push the doe-eyed boy out of his thoughts, he came back again and again, and he never found any easy solutions on what to do with him. Katsuki didn’t find the idea of hanging around a second year all that appealing, but he was starting to run out of options. The thought that Deku could be spreading accusations about Katsuki or casually slipping unwanted information to others was driving him nuts. He hated that naive look that Deku had given him when he said he wasn’t going to tell anyone because he couldn’t tell if he was serious. Maybe this was his plan all along. To get to him psychologically and make him question Deku’s intentions. But what did Deku really want? To learn, like he’d said? Somehow, Katsuki doubted it. 

To his credit, Deku had kept his word and hadn’t tried to contact Katsuki since their initial encounter. He had expected at least one text, which Katsuki would ignore, but it was radio silence. He frowned at the thought. Didn’t Deku imply that he wanted to get to know him? Even if he wanted to betray Katsuki, not talking to him wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Deku was unreadable. Katsuki felt like he knew nothing about the boy, yet he had so many conflicting thoughts. He was clearly a genius, at least when it came to tracking down Katsuki, but he was also stupid for confronting a known criminal alone. Deku couldn’t have possibly known that Katsuki had his own set of rules when it came to not killing anyone except his chosen targets. So how could he confidently set foot in the Bakugou house and be sure that no harm would come to him? The look of constant adoration that was plastered on his face during their encounter haunted Katsuki. He always thought of himself as insane for the uncontrollable impulses inside him, but it appeared that Deku may be more deranged than he was.

 

“There you are, Bakugou!” Kirishima entered the classroom and threw an affectionate arm around his friend. “Your eyes are distant, dude! What’s on your mind?”

“Yeah, you’ve been spacing out all week!” Kaminari popped up behind him. “Give us a peek into your brain! What are you thinking about?”

Katsuki sighed. His friends were good people, and he knew they meant well. But he had already accepted that he’d never be able to be his true self around them. The person Katsuki was at school was him behind a mask of normality. They didn’t genuinely know him.

“What’s on my mind?” Katsuki murmured. “An underclassman, I guess.”

Kaminari groaned. “Oh, my dude. They’re soooo annoying, right? Yesterday, this one kid literally stomped his dirty ass feet all over my clean shoes, and I wanted to fry him so badly. They have no concern for personal space, like, at all.”

Katsuki thought about Deku pretty much forcing himself into his house and nodded in agreement.

“I can’t wait to graduate and be free of these toddlers,” Kirishima sighed. “But then again, when we go to university, we’ll be the toddlers.”

“What the hell, man?” cried Kaminari. “Don’t make me think about that! I don’t wanna leave here and go to the bottom of the food chain again! I’d rather die!”

 

Without warning, a flash of pain spread across Katsuki’s head, and before he could stop himself, he groaned softly and clutched at his hair. His two friends stopped talking and turned to him, concerned.

“You alright?”

Katsuki covered his mouth. No way. It hasn’t even been two weeks yet.

“Bakugou?” Kirishima leaned down to be at eye level with his friend. “What’s wrong?”

Katsuki shook his head and tried to relax his face. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“OK, but you-”

“For fuck’s sake!” Katsuki snapped. “I. Am. Fine.”

Kirishima put his hands up in defeat. Katsuki was a brick wall when it came to talking about any sort of emotion. “Alright. Just tell us if you feel sick or something.”

“I feel swell,” he replied sarcastically. Kirishima and Kaminari took their seats and began chatting about something. But Katsuki tuned them out, took his phone out of his pocket and stared at his screen, making it look like he was occupied.

 

Katsuki could tell when the compulsion was creeping up on him again. Getting headaches was the first showing. A stabbing pain that invaded his thoughts and forced him to confront his deadly urges. Then, he would begin to act out irrationally, getting irritated at more and more insignificant things. And if Katsuki ignored it for too long, he acted on impulse without predisposition, and he’d end up hurting someone he didn’t want to. That was why he tried to take care of it as soon as the first signs showed up. It was a rotten curse. But usually, Katsuki could withstand at least a month, two when he really put a lid on it. So why, he thought, was the temptation back after such a short period of time? 

Green eyes flashed in his mind, and Katsuki clenched his jaw. That stupid bastard would not get out of his head. He knew realistically that Deku had nothing to do with it, but the timing was too coincidental. He tapped the hard screen of his phone with his nails. This was the shortest cooldown period he’d experienced, and it lined up with him having to worry about a witness. But the reason didn’t actually matter. It couldn’t be ignored completely. Katsuki knew his mind, and he knew when he couldn’t stop it. So he’d have to act soon to get it over with quickly.

The bright laptop was the only thing casting light on Katsuki’s pitch-black room. He was double-checking the last couple of details of his new target, a deceitful conman who had previously been driven out of the town and had his stolen riches taken back by force from the people he swindled. Katsuki clicked into another tab and studied a map of the area, planning out his route in his head. It was the witching hours of a Sunday morning. He would be in and out of the scene in less than 10 minutes.

He was about to close his laptop when he remembered his last encounter. Katsuki pulled up his bookmarks and re-read the post that he now knew was written by Deku. In his mind, he could vividly picture the boy typing it up, a fresh bruise on his face and tears forming in his glowing green eyes. What was he wearing… he said it was after work, so maybe a uniform–

Katsuki shook the ridiculous thought from his head. Although, he did have to admit that he was impressed with Deku’s skills and efforts in tracking him down. Katsuki assumed he was good at making himself untraceable, but he supposed there would always be someone better.

Maybe I should ask him how to do it. So I can avoid the possibility of another person with less appreciation finding me.

Katsuki frowned. He shouldn’t have been thinking of the boy as a friend or an ally. He was a threat to his cover, and he had to remember that he couldn’t trust him, no matter what he said. He hadn’t heard from Deku in a week now, only exchanging brief eye contact with him in the halls, so he was still unsure of what the boy wanted.

Closing the computer, Katsuki caught a short glimpse of himself in the mirror, illuminated by the moonlight. He wore all black, with only the pale skin around his eyes visible. Every other part of his body was covered by dark clothing that he’d specifically picked out in order to hide his identity. Katsuki tugged his hood over his face before silently exiting his room through the window.

 

 

The poor part of Hase seemed to deteriorate further every time Katsuki paid it a visit. The streets were littered with trash, and every inch of the walls was covered in rainbows of graffiti. Streetlights clung to dear life with every passing day, and most buildings were either deserted or crawling with vermin. The foul smells of garbage were faintly blocked by the mask Katsuki wore to hide his face, but sometimes, their overwhelming stench would still cause him to feel ill.

The slums could not have a more appropriate name. They were riddled with poverty and were home to those who were completely down on their luck, with no riches or dignity to show for themselves. Hase was a tight-knit community where everyone was connected, and all the inhabitants cared deeply for one another. However, that meant that when someone was exposed for any wrongdoing, the residents were merciless, exiling those who committed nefarious deeds to the poorest parts of town. It was almost familial, and Katsuki would be grateful for it except for the fact he was teetering the line of being on the receiving end of an exile himself.

As he moved, Katsuki stayed in the shadows and kept his destination in his vision, listening closely for any foreign sounds. Knowing that someone had witnessed his last crime was making him nervous. He checked all the spots where someone could be watching him but came up empty. Feeling for the sharpened knife on his belt, Katsuki slowly entered the building. About half a dozen people slept inside on the cold floor with thin blankets, doing little to block out the cold. Moonlight spilled in through cracks in the ceiling. Using that light, Katsuki checked the faces of the sleeping bodies, and his breath halted when he laid eyes on the man he had targeted. 

 

He pulled out his blade, gripping it tightly in his right hand. Katsuki gently tilted the man’s head to the side to reveal his neck, and he inhaled sharply. The clean knife was quickly stained deep crimson as Katsuki dragged it across the man’s throat, angling the cut so it would hit the vital arteries. Brown eyes shot open, and Katsuki held his body down, knowing his victim would have less than a few seconds of fight in him. He covered the man’s mouth so he would die silently, and he watched as the blood dripped from the wound on his throat and pooled around his head. Katsuki shivered as the elation filled him; the sensation he’d chased for so many years returned. No matter how many times he took life, the feeling felt new as it reignited the dwindling blaze in his soul. The high he got at the sight of light leaving a dying person’s eyes and their futile struggle couldn’t be replicated. Soon, the heaving of his victim’s chest ended, and Katsuki stopped holding him down and removed his hand, his mind racing at the sight of the man’s eternal expression of death. 

After basking in the exhilaration for a few minutes, Katsuki felt the shame wash over him like a tidal wave. It knocked the wind out of him, and he felt disgust pool in his stomach. It was like clockwork every time he committed murder. Katsuki clenched his eyes shut and put his knife back in its spot on his waist, sneaking out silently from the building the way he’d entered. He whipped his head side to side, checking for lurking bystanders, but the street was still empty. Katsuki began making his way home, avoiding any rays of light that decorated the street. He was scanning every building he could, but nothing caught his attention.

 

That was, until he spotted two black pupils across the road flicker in the moonlight.

 

Katsuki froze. He ducked down behind a dying bush for cover, trying to get a closer look at the pair of eyes he’d seen. Yes, he could see them reflecting through the glass a couple floors up. They could have belonged to an animal. But it could have easily been a human, too. As soon as he managed to focus his vision on them, they were suddenly gone. Katsuki had to investigate. He went around the back of the property and found the front door. This place was even more decayed than the impoverished homes, with thick roots of grass bleeding into the floor from the outside and kingdoms of spiderwebs living on the roof. The air was thick and damp, and it was apparent no one had inhabited this building in years. Faded posters of instruments on the walls told him that this place may have used to be a music store. Katsuki kept his footsteps silent as he climbed the withering stairs and scanned each floor. On the third story, the stairs were destroyed entirely, and Katsuki had to try to remain quiet as he jumped over the gap where the staircase previously was, cringing as his body made a thump against the ground. Questioning how someone had even managed to get up this high, he dusted himself off and continued searching for the place where he’d seen the twinkling eyes.

 

And in a wide room with broken glass decorating the floor, Katsuki found their owner.

 

A hooded figure kneeled by the window, noiselessly facing the open air. Katsuki swallowed hard as he reached for his weapon and crept up behind them. There was a cracked, abandoned piano in the corner of the room, where a small bag was placed on the stool. An open notebook with lines of messy handwriting lay on the floor. Dust particles flowed around the room as the chill breeze blew in through the shattered window. Soft breaths could be heard as Katsuki stepped within earshot of the stranger. In one motion, Katsuki put his gloved hand over the person’s mouth and lay the knife against their throat. He felt their body immediately tense up.

“Don’t scream,” he muttered into their ear. “You’re going to turn around and face me without speaking. And don’t try to run either.” 

The person nodded slightly, brushing their neck against the sharp blade. Katsuki removed his hand and let them turn around, keeping his knife firmly against their windpipe. A pair of wide green eyes met his own, and a hushed gasp escaped Katsuki’s mouth. He could never forget the colour that stared back at him.

 

“Deku.”

Notes:

i made deku's hideout a music store because there is an empty building where my old piano lessons used to be and i have no idea what's going on with it. i swear its been abandoned for like 6 years now

Chapter 3: An Alliance

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=41bdfa2b0d524ec4&nd=1&dlsi=7ff9b4016f6b4783

8.2k words,,,,, i wasnt lying when i said i was gonna try and make the chapters longer in this fic

“Midoriya! You were supposed to be back on the floor 5 minutes ago!”

Izuku shoved his phone in his pocket and tightened the knot around his waist, brushing his hands on his dirty apron. “Coming!”

 

The kitchen was a mess. Despite working at the bar for almost a year, Izuku had never once seen it clean this time of night. Saturdays were always the busiest, and Izuku had been thrown through the wringer all evening. The hem of his shirt was drenched in sweat, and his dishevelled hair clung stubbornly to his forehead as he ran back and forth from the hot kitchen to the hungry tables. Unlike the traditionally Japanese restaurants in the centre of Hase, food served on this side of the town was mainly Western, so Izuku could feel the layers of grease that built up on his skin. He checked his watch– only an hour and a half, and then he could go home.

“Hey, kid!” A stray arm grabbed Izuku’s sleeve and tugged him. “Get me another beer.” An intoxicated man wiggled his empty glass in front of his face.

Izuku bottled his instinct to shout at the man not to touch him, and he put on the most natural face he could muster. “You’ll have to ask the bar. I only bring the food.”

The grip on his shirt tightened. “Don’t you get paid for this crap? Just bring me another one and put it on my tab.”

Resisting his urge to scream, Izuku wriggled free of the hand that clasped at his arm and flashed a fake smile. “Sorry, you’ll have to ask the bartender.” He scurried off to the kitchen and blinked away anxious tears.

“Midoriya!” One of the cooks gestured at a plate of food. “Table 12.”

Izuku groaned before grabbing the food and bursting back through the double doors.

OK, only ten more minutes.

Izuku yawned. The bar was starting to empty, and only a few people lingered at the tables. The kitchen was closed, so all he had to do was make sure the place remained clean. He’d scrubbed all the tables and mopped down the counters, leaving them spotless.

“You.”

Izuku turned his head to the sound and saw the angry face of the patron who’d demanded a drink from him earlier. His hand still clutched the empty glass. If his breath was anything to go off, he was very much drunk.

“Can I help you?” asked Izuku. He kept his distance.

The man’s eyes narrowed, and he slammed the glass on the ground, scattering the shattered shards all over the floor. Izuku gasped, and all the heads in the room turned to the loud noise.

“That’s for not doing your job,” the man slurred. Izuku was frozen in shock and didn’t reply as the man drunkenly stumbled out through the door. The people who turned at the sound ignored him as they returned to their conversations. Izuku’s eyes were locked on the floor.

“Midoriya!” His assistant manager poked her head out of the staff room. “What’s the commotion?”

Izuku’s eyes filled with tears. His lower lip trembled as he walked over to the broom.

“It’s OK, Furukawa. A glass… it fell.” He began creating a pile of the silver fragments.

“I heard yelling,” she persisted. “Everything alright?”

He nodded, hiding his face. “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

“Momoko!” Furukawa jumped at the sound of her first name and turned towards the establishment's owner, who came out with a frown on his face. “Are we ready to close yet?”

Furukawa checked her watch. “5 more minutes, Shinkawa.”

“Hurry back to the office. I’ve got to talk to you. And Midoriya, see me too after you finish sweeping.”

Izuku watched the hot tears drop from his cheeks to the floor as he began sweeping the shattered glass into the dustpan. He would probably be asked to stay back and clean more or told that he had to work longer shifts next week, even though he’d told Shinkawa many times that he had little free time to focus on his studies. His chest hurt at the idea of speaking to his boss. He was a controlling man with little empathy for his young employees, threatening them with termination if they dared question his authority. Izuku dreamed of the day when he could stand up for himself. But for now, he tossed the glass into the bin and told the last few people they’d have to leave, as it was closing time.

 

After the last person left the bar and Izuku locked the door, he shuffled in the direction of the staff room, dragging his feet behind him as he walked. It was nearly 15 minutes past the time he was supposed to clock off, and Izuku wanted nothing more than to collapse in his comfortable bed and put on one of his podcasts to help him fall asleep.

Izuku gently opened the door, only for the main office to be empty. He frowned. He’d definitely been told to meet him in the office… Maybe Shinkawa had forgotten! Izuku’s face brightened as he hurried to the staff room, practically ripping off his apron and grabbing his messenger bag from his locker. He clocked off on the machine and walked back onto the floor, only to hear the kitchen doors open and see his boss frowning at the entrance.

“There you are, Midoriya,” Shinkawa grumbled. “Come here for a second.”

Izuku’s heart tightened as he gripped the handle of his bag and slowly entered the kitchen. A waft of meat hit his nose, and he saw that Shinkawa had fired up one of the stoves and was using it to cook something. Izuku frowned.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

Shinkawa ignored him, focusing all his attention on the food cooking in front of him. Izuku peered over and saw a burger bun cut in half, with cheese and sauces already on the bread. 

“Pass me that spatula.”

Izuku couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. Did the man really not care that Izuku had just spent the tail end of his shift making sure the kitchen was pristine, washing up all the dirty dishes despite it not even being part of his job? And now here he was, making more work for him to do, even though Izuku was ready to leave a third of an hour ago.

 

“Midoriya.”

Izuku gritted his teeth and handed him the utensil, trying hard to contain his anger. Shinkawa lifted the meat off the frying pan and completed the burger. He tossed the spatula into the empty sink and took a bite out of his food.

“Alright, so-” Chunks of bread and meat flew from his mouth as he spoke and ate. Izuku cringed at the atrocious manners. “You’re only on for two days next week. We’re gonna need you to take on three more.”

Izuku blinked. “I- What?”

Shinkawa swallowed. “Yeah, it’ll be all six-hour shifts, 4-10 like usual. We just need you because Momoko is going away–”

“Sorry, I just…” Izuku wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt. “I told you I can’t work that many days. I have school.”

His near-black eyes narrowed. “This has never been a problem before now. Why are you being difficult?”

“I promise I- I’m not trying to,” Izuku gulped. “But I really can’t work that many days, sir. I’m sorry.”

Shinkawa finished off the last of his food and crossed his arms, looming over Izuku as he spoke. “I thought you were someone who appreciated their job, Midoriya.”

“I-I do, sir, but some things just aren’t possible with my schedule.”

The thin wrinkles on Shinkawa’s forehead were made more visible as he glared down at the smaller boy. Izuku tried his best to hold back his tears and hold eye contact, refusing to back down like he’d done so many times.

“I don’t like this attitude from you, young man.”

Izuku stayed silent.

 

Shinkawa grunted loudly. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow. You’d better figure something else out.” He turned around, lazily gesturing to the dirty pan. “Clean that up before you go.”

With his feet firmly planted on the ground, Izuku inhaled deeply. He wasn’t going to be pushed around. Some lines weren’t to be crossed.

“No.”

After a beat, Shinkawa slowly turned around, face scrunched up in frustration. “I beg your pardon?”

Izuku drew a shaky breath. “No, sir. My shift ended nearly half an hour ago. And I’m not a dishwasher; I am a food runner. That’s what you hired me for.”

Shinkawa scowled. “I hired you to do as I say. That is your job. And if you want to keep it, you’ll clean up this mess now .”

“With all due respect, sir, the kitchen closed nearly an hour ago, and I already cleaned it up like you asked, even though it’s not part of my responsibilities. You are the one who made the additional mess.”

Wide eyes glared at Izuku, who trembled under the harsh gaze. He had never stood up for himself like this. In previous encounters, he had always just bit his tongue, gone along with what was asked of him, and never argued about anything. But now, he was sick of the vitriol. Izuku knew he deserved to be treated better. And if that meant losing this job now, then so be it.

The only sounds in the kitchen were the sizzling oil spitting from the pan on the stove and Shinkawa's heavy breathing. After a few moments, Izuku finally looked away, grabbed the straps of his bag again, and prepared to leave.

“Goodnight, sir-”

Before he could register anything, Izuku felt a sharp flash of pain on the right side of his face, knocking him onto the cold tiles. He gasped and brought his hand up to his eye, blinking a few times before looking up. Shinkawa had grabbed the still-hot pan and hit him across the face with it. The man’s face was dark and dangerous, and he didn’t have one shred of remorse in his eyes. Terrified, Izuku scrambled to his feet and burst out of the door, sprinting to the exit. Only when his skin hit the cool night air could he breathe again normally.

 

Izuku shakily pulled out his phone and took a photo of himself, squinting at the flash. He zoomed in on the picture and winced at the large red mark. It would definitely leave a bruise, which was going to be hard to explain to his mother. He hurried to the parking lot across the road and got into his car, locking it tightly as he started the engine. As his car pulled out of the lot and his tyres crunched over the gravel, his right cheek began to throb with pain, and rage filled his entire body.

I stand up for myself for the first time in a year, and this is what I get?! he thought angrily. Izuku’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel furiously. I can’t believe he hit me. I should go to the police.

Izuku turned on the main road, and his heart slowed. The police… He recalled a few articles that came up while researching his job, mostly about the business owner, his to-be boss. A lot of them were news reports on the allegations he had received in his career, all of them assault related, and all of them dropped. Izuku clenched his jaw. He has gotten away with everything in his life so far. I can’t rely on the cops. Instead, he had another idea.

 

Izuku parked in his driveway, pulling on the handbrake and turning off the engine. He sat in his car for a few minutes as he debated with himself whether or not he was going to go through with his idea. He slowly exited the car and shut the door quietly to avoid disturbing his sleeping mother. Izuku unlocked the front door and entered the house, being mindful of his sounds. His cheek still stung, but he ignored it for now. He slipped into his house shoes and tip-toed down the hall to his room, locking the door behind him.

Tossing his bag on the bed, Izuku sat at his desk and opened his trusty laptop. It froze a lot, was slow in the loading department and was more than a few years old at this point. But it served him well, and he didn’t intend on getting a new one until after graduation. He loaded up the site he was after and was greeted with its dimly lit interface. A few posts had been made recently, and he read through them as he went back and forth with his idea to make his own post.

 

This site, hosted on the darker side of the internet, was all about people being freely allowed to vent their bitterness about anything in the world. There were sub-sections for various topics, which were all unmoderated and censorship-free. That meant the conversations weren’t always the most civil, but Izuku found the site fascinating. It was like a peak into the shady side of humanity's brain. He clicked on the page with the topic he wanted to browse, which was one where people voiced their frustrations and anger about those who had wronged them. Behind the messages were thinly veiled requests for someone to kill the person they spoke of.

All his life, Izuku had been obsessed with criminality and, more specifically, homicide. Anything that existed relating to true crime, he was all over it. Podcasts, courses, discussion boards, you name it. He was intrigued by the psychology behind it all and found that it was a subject he could talk about for hours. Unfortunately, it wasn't a very popular topic with his peers, so he kept it to himself. Online, Izuku could get first-hand research on what drove a person to want to commit murder, or in the forum’s case, what drove them to want to wish for that person’s demise. Izuku was a frequenter of the page and had read hundreds of stories, studying the minds of anonymous strangers and getting increasingly captivated by the nuance of it all.

Additionally, for the people of Hase in this community, there was a rumour that a member was noting the submissions and enacting the calls of revenge. Occasionally, Izuku would read a post about a person who lived in the poorer parts of Hase, and a few days later, that person would wind up dead. It was a thrilling idea: someone bravely taking up the mantle and enforcing their own form of justice. At least, that was the only explanation Izuku could come up with. The theory had no proof, and it could very well be a total coincidence, but he liked to imagine it was real.

With all this in mind, Izuku’s fingers hovered over his keyboard, itching to create his own post that named his boss as someone who needed to die. There were only two unspoken rules of the forum: The post must include the person’s age and a legitimate reason to wish for their demise. Izuku felt a little nauseous at the thought. He himself never wanted to hurt anyone, ever. There were some people Izuku felt deserved death, sure, but he was much too cowardly to take matters into his own hands, and he didn’t find the thought of harming someone very appealing. Despite that, he was still enamoured with the possibility that with just a few clicks, his problem would disappear. And with the recollection of all the heinous things Shinkawa had done without punishment, he swallowed any sympathy he had.

Taking a shuddering breath, Izuku clicked the ‘create post’ button and began typing, each tap of the keys fueled with contempt.

 

Rokurou Shinkawa. Age: 56

The owner of the Hase Beach Bar on the edge of town. I can personally attest that he has a history of mentally abusing his workers by scheduling them for borderline illegally lengthed shifts and refusing their breaks, pressuring them to come in even when it interferes with their personal lives. He also has a record of physical abuse, harming employees when they stand up for themselves. Additionally, Shinkawa has been accused of multiple crimes in the past, all of which have been unfairly shelved. Clearly, he does not change or learn from any mistakes, and his position of power makes him likely to abuse others under him.

 

He’d kept it vague enough that it couldn’t be linked directly to him. After checking for spelling mistakes and re-reading what he’d written several times, Izuku clicked post and watched as his submission was sent out onto the site. He put his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands as he thought about what he’d done. 

It’s out there. But then again, it probably won’t get noticed. There probably isn't even a person taking these posts and acting on them, right? Even if there is, and it’s not a coincidence, my post is one in a sea of others! It’s like yelling into the void, isn’t it?

Izuku shut off his computer and peeled off his sweaty clothes, too tired to shower. He’d wash the grime off in the morning. He put on his pyjamas and climbed into his bed, letting the day’s events wash over him.

 

Two days later, Izuku noticed that his post had a bookmark on it.

From the roof of a high building, Izuku could see Shinkawa walking back from the bar to his house. It was the second night he had been watching him, and Izuku had a gnawing gut feeling that he was going to be targeted. He had no proof as he observed him through thick binoculars, but he couldn't stay home with the thought invading his mind.

Izuku had been blessed with patience. He could watch paint dry for hours and not feel bored in the slightest because his mind was always running. He was always thinking of new ideas and perspectives and kept all his thoughts in his trusty notebook, which lay open next to his perch. 

Izuku ducked down a little lower at the sight of another person turning the corner and approaching Shinkawa from behind. Could that be… He held his breath and watched as the figure reached into their jacket and pulled out a knife, quickly covering Shinkawa’s mouth and slashing his throat open. A gasp escaped Izuku’s mouth, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene. Shinkawa’s lifeless body fell back on the assailant, so they pushed him off, and his corpse rolled off the pavement, letting his blood leak into a storm drain. The cloaked figure stood still for about a minute before darting off and finding shelter in the darkness. Izuku lost sight of them quickly.

The boy was ecstatic. Not only had he witnessed the murder first-hand, something he’d always wanted to do, but Izuku was confident he would be able to track down the person responsible. He had always wanted someone to discuss dark topics with, and he had so many burning questions he wanted to ask. Mostly, he just wanted to thank them and see who they really were. Izuku excitedly packed his things away and hopped from the roof, expertly navigating the way down. He hurried home under the cover of the night, each step filling his heart with yearning.

Izuku found the person’s address through their IP, using the account that bookmarked his post as a starting point. It was a hard one to crack due to the insane layers of encryption, but he managed it after a few days of attempts. They lived about a 30-minute walk away, only a ten-minute drive, but Izuku’s mother had taken the car for the day. It was sunny out, and Izuku could use the fresh air to calm his nerves before he ended up on his saviour’s doorstep. He imagined what they could look like, but any images he created in his mind slipped through his fingers, and he was desperate to see the person behind the actions.

Izuku could spot the house from the end of the street. It was a beautiful two-story home with a stylistic frame and grey bricks making up the walls. Next to the front door was a drawn window, and underneath the ledge was a small garden of flowers. Izuku studied them quickly. In bloom were some bright red rhododendrons and smaller yellow lilies scattered around the larger plants. Trees with wild branches stood tall on either side of the house. On the second story was an open balcony, and Izuku stole a quick glance into the room. Was it theirs…?

Collecting his nerves, Izuku walked up to the front door made of grand maroon wood and knocked softly. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and the blood rushed past his ears into his skull. Izuku could hear a slight shuffle inside, and he held his breath. But no one came to the door. He went to knock again, but the second his knuckle hit the wood, the door flung open, and Izuku nearly stumbled back in shock.

 

Izuku tilted his head up to see a boy, about a head taller than him, staring at him with an unimpressed frown. Izuku resisted the urge to gasp as he took in the form of the person in front of him. Of course Izuku’s hero was drop-dead gorgeous. Tall, with a thin grey T-shirt stretching over his broad shoulders, attached to arms that looked like they could crush a person with a single hold. He had messy blonde hair that spiked up like an explosion and sharp red eyes that took in every inch of his body. Izuku couldn’t help but feel like he knew him from somewhere. His thin lips morphed into a scowl, but his expression was still beautiful, and Izuku barely paid attention to the words coming out of his mouth.

“Who the hell are you?” Oh God, even his voice is perfect. The husky tone melted Izuku’s soul, but it also brought a flash of recognition. He then realised where he knew the boy from– he was an upperclassman at his school. Izuku had seen him wandering the halls a few times. 

This must be my lucky day. 

After a heated discussion, Izuku ended up leaving with both his saviour’s name and his number. He excitedly added a name to the contact that the boy had typed into his phone.

Kacchan.

Izuku tried to hide his excitement on the walk home, fingers itching to look up Kacchan on the student profiles on the Hase High School website. He practically skipped as he returned to his house and ran to his room, locking the door behind him.

Izuku watched the screen load up to his school's blue and red colours, looking through the menus and clicking on the profile option. He set the search to the third years and began scrolling, scanning all the faces and nearly going cross-eyed. Then, he found who he was looking for.

Katsuki Bakugou.

 

Izuku raised an eyebrow. Oh, Bakugou. Aren’t they the couple who own that clothing shop? He looked it up and found the thrift store, and there was even a review that included a picture of the place. Zooming into the corner, he made out Kacchan's blonde head at the register. His heart skipped a beat. Now he knew exactly who to thank. Izuku pulled out his phone, fingers hovering over the screen. He thought about sending Kacchan a message, but then he paused.

 

No, I’ve got a better idea.

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

“Deku.”

 

Katsuki froze at the sight of his classmate, dressed in black attire identical to his own. His eyes, so clearly green in the pale light, shimmered with surprise as he looked at Katsuki from head to toe. 

“Kacchan,” Deku whispered, his voice barely audible from behind his mask. “I recognised your voice.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth. “What in the fucking shit are you doing here, you dumb-?”

“Kacchan, were you really going to kill me?” Deku interrupted. The blade was still firmly placed against Deku’s throat, hovering over the black fabric. 

He paused. What the hell was I planning? I’ve never had to confront a witness before. I don’t know what I would have done. At least this time, it was just Deku.

Deku took a short breath as Katsuki pulled the knife away, stashing it back into its home on his belt. He stepped away and then squatted down to avoid being seen through the broken window. Deku adjusted his legs and sat crosslegged, also keeping himself out of view.

 

“Deku, why the fuck are you here?” Katsuki hissed, ignoring the previous question. From this angle, he could see the boy a little bit clearer. What Katsuki initially thought was a hood was actually a beanie that Deku had contained his wild, curly hair in. His hands were also gloved, although they were white and not black. He wore a long-sleeved turtleneck and baggy sweatpants, and his sneakers were a dark shade of blue. Dangling around his collarbone was a pair of binoculars. Katsuki had been prepared to scold him for potentially leaving traces, but it looked like the boy had thought about everything.

 

“I-I wanted to see you in action, Kacchan.” Deku hung his head low, too ashamed to look Katsuki in the eye. “I know I should have messaged you, but… I thought it might scare you off.”

Katsuki scoffed. “And stalking me here is much less creepy, isn’t it? How did you even track me down again?”

Deku gulped. “W-Well, I still had the details of your user, and I saw that you b-bookmarked another post… I figured it was for another murder, so I… started keeping a lookout on that building… since that’s where the target lived.”

Routine had given Katsuki away. He always bookmarked the posts that mentioned his targets, and he hadn’t even given it a passing thought. But now Deku was here again, a witness for the second time. If he hadn’t been so mad, Katsuki would have applauded Deku for being clever enough to track him down using only that, and he was still in awe that Deku knew how to crack the layers of protection that the site had. He desperately wanted to ask him to share his knowledge with Katsuki and learn how to hide his online self better, but his pride kept his mouth shut.

 

“You could have gotten me caught. Or you could have been seen yourself,” Katsuki mumbled. “Don’t do this shit again.”

Deku, still staring at the ground, sighed. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Kacchan.”

Katsuki stood up and walked over to the piano. He wrapped his hand around the bag that sat on the stool. “Take your stupid bag, we’re out of-”

“Wait, Kacchan-!”

Picking up the bag and hoisting it over his shoulder caused it to hit the piano and knock the lid down, echoing a loud clang of untuned keys throughout the room. The sound escaped through the open window, and Deku rose quickly to his feet, clutching the notebook that had been sitting on the floor.

“Deku!” Katsuki hissed, glaring at the other boy.

“What’d I do?!”

He rolled his eyes. “Just get the hell outta here!”

Katsuki fled the room with Deku closely on his heels. He jumped over the missing staircase and landed on his knees, pushing himself up as he continued to run. As he ran down the floors, he expected to have to wait for Deku to catch up a few times, but he was keeping pace with Katsuki.

 

Both boys headed straight for a dark alley after they were out of the abandoned building, and Katsuki caught his breath. He threw the messenger bag back at Deku, who shoved his notebook inside and zipped it up. Katsuki looked around, recalling the placements of any cameras he’d noted on his reconnaissance. He plotted out a route in his head. A chained fence blocked their path, but it was easily climbable. For him, at least. He didn’t know how athletic Deku was, and he really didn’t want to have to give him a boost over it.

“Jesus Christ,” Katsuki panted. “Why did you have to show up and fuck the whole night up?”

Deku flinched. “Sorry…”

Katsuki wiped the sweat from his forehead. There was no way around it now. He was going to have to actually talk to Deku about what was going on. He couldn’t ignore the fact that Deku had now been a bystander to two of his crimes. Ally or not, Katsuki had to know his genuine intentions and find out how he was going to manage the younger boy moving forward.

“OK,” Katsuki said quietly, turning to Deku. “You still got stamina, nerd?”

Deku nodded.

“We’ve got to have a serious discussion about this shit. But not here. You’re coming back to my house.”

His eyes lit up, and Katsuki could tell Deku was smiling under his mask. He groaned as he tugged his hood down further.

“Don’t get any stupid ideas. Just try to keep up.” He pointed to the fence. “Can you get over that?”

“The fence?” Deku looked it up and down before taking a few steps back. Then, he burst into a jog and ran up the wall, leaping from one side of the narrow alleyway to another. He pushed himself off the bricks and over the chained fence, landing on the opposite side with a perfect roll. 

 

Katsuki’s jaw dropped. He had expected Deku to climb the fence, not leap over it. And where the hell did he learn how to wall run, let alone wall jump?? Katsuki thought he was talented at maneuvering the streets since he had to learn how to traverse the concrete jungle in order to escape crime scenes quickly. But Deku had just shown how much better he was without even meaning to. Katsuki tried to hide his shock as he pulled himself over the fence, avoiding the sharp wire. He dropped over to the other side, much sloppier than Deku had. Pain hit his ankles, shooting up his legs and into his spine. Deku, on the other hand, was waiting patiently, his messenger bag draped over his shoulder. Once Katsuki was over the fence, Deku broke out into a sprint. 

“How the hell did you do that?” Katsuki asked breathlessly, catching up to Deku’s speed.

Deku stared straight ahead. “Oh… I’ve just had some training.”

Training?! Deku’s movements were inhuman. And as they made their way to Katsuki's house, he saw more of his skills in action. He hopped over walls, jumped from rooftops and landed perfectly every time. All Katsuki could do was watch and try to keep up. He certainly had a lot to learn about Izuku Midoriya.

 

Once they made it back to Katsuki’s neighbourhood, he instructed Deku to follow his lead. He knew where all the security cameras were and how to avoid their vision on their way to his house. Katsuki and Deku stuck to the shadows, sneaking through backyards and finally making it to the side of the Bakugou house. They stopped at the trunk of one of the trees that grew next to his window.

“Just follow me,” Katsuki whispered, grabbing the sturdy branches and hauling himself up. He watched as Deku also climbed the tree, staying a few steps behind as he copied Katsuki’s path. Katsuki reached over to his window and pulled it open, slipping through the small entrance with ease. Once he was safe in his room, he pulled off the black mask and took a deep breath in through his nose. Deku entered through the window, shutting it tight and locking out the cool night air. He pulled off his beanie, letting his untamed green hair pop out, and it waved around as he shook his head.

“OK.” Katsuki broke their silence, pulling the string of his desk lamp and filling the room with a gentle light. Deku’s eyes went wide at his volume. “Relax, my parents are on the other side of the house. They can’t hear me if I keep my voice down.” The young boy’s shoulders relaxed. “You didn’t leave anything behind, did you?”

Deku pulled down his mask. “No. Everything’s in my bag.”

The first thing Katsuki noticed was that the once prominent bruise under Deku’s right eye had faded, and it was barely visible now. Now, the freckles on his cheeks popped out a lot more against his tanned skin.

 

Without really thinking, Katsuki spoke. “Your bruise looks better.” 

Deku instinctively touched his cheek. “O-Oh, yeah. It’s faded a lot now. I-I’m surprised you noticed…”

Katsuki grabbed the laundry basket from the corner of his room and tossed it on his bed. He pulled his hood off from over his head and threw it in to be washed. He did the same with his gloves and mask, removing his shoes and putting them in his closet.

“Um… I d-don’t know exactly what you want to talk about, Kacchan,” Deku stuttered. “But I- I promise you that I’m not interested in reporting you or turning you in or anything. I swear, I just want to get a first-hand account and learn about it.”

Katsuki ran his fingers through his coarse hair. The chilly air was starting to set in on his arms. He had taken everything off except his track pants and the black compression shirt he wore under his jacket. Deku was sitting nervously on the bed, hovering his feet off the floor so his shoes didn’t get the carpet dirty.

Katsuki knelt down and pulled Deku’s blue sneakers off, throwing them into the closet as well. He fidgeted as Katsuki stood up straight, crossing his large arms across his chest.

 

“You pay attention to me while I tell you this, Deku,” Katsuki started, his voice low and intimidating. “I’m going to give you the bare minimum rundown on what my deal is. I don’t fucking want to, but you’ve forced me to since you’ve seen me kill someone twice now. Don’t interrupt me, or I’m hurling you out that goddamn window. Got it?”

Deku tightly kept his lips together and nodded. Katsuki sighed. It would be the first time he’d ever voiced his thoughts out loud. It was challenging to put into words, but he was going to have to give it a shot.

“First, you need to understand that I’m not doing it because I like to see random people die. And it’s not because I want to dish out vengeance to these fuckers that have wronged others. It just so happens that the people who are easiest to target without witnesses correlate with those who have done shitty things. The reason I do it is because…”

Deku was looking up at him, holding onto every word. Katsuki was struggling to vocalise the feeling killing gave him, and his stomach churned at the mental images of all the corpses he’d created.

“It’s just– I don’t know how to even describe it. It’s like a high that gets shot directly into my veins whenever I kill someone. And it’s terrible and evil and I’m a disgustingly selfish person for doing it, I fucking know. But I can’t get that feeling from anything else. So if I don’t do it every month or so, I get this itch that’ll become more and more unbearable, and if I don’t take care of it, bad stuff will happen.” He inhaled sharply. “That’s it. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

 

Deku stared at Katsuki with undiluted wonder, which caused chills to run down Katsuki’s spine. He expected disgust or horror, but approval was even more unnerving.

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face, you psycho,” Katsuki snapped. “It’s not something you should be smiling about.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Deku pinched his bottom lip. “I know, it sounds bad when you say it out loud. But honestly, Kacchan, I find it fascinating. I really mean it. I’d like to find out the reason you’re driven to do this.”

Katsuki couldn’t believe his ears. There was no way Deku could be faking this level of admiration. Was he actually screwed up in the head, more so than Katsuki?

“Christ, at least I know I’m a bad person,” he grumbled.

“I disagree,” Deku insisted. “Also, you say it’s every month, but wasn’t your last murder only a week ago?”

Katsuki glared, his scarlet eyes burning into Deku. “Shut your fucking mouth. I didn’t say you could ask questions about me, you bastard. That’s none of your business.”

Deku shrunk into the mattress, staring at his knees. “Sorry.”

 

Katsuki sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Alright, you need to tell me the basics about yourself so I can understand your deal as well.”

Deku tilted his head. “Well, um, I’m 17, I live alone with my mom, I take extension psychology and mathematics, and I-”

“OK, I don’t give a fuck about that,” Katsuki huffed. “I was talking about how you ran up those damn walls and jumped off the roofs without breaking your arms. You’re a skinny little shit, so how the hell did you do that?”

Gingerly, Deku grinned and lifted the lower half of his body, balancing on his elbows. “It’s all in the legs, Kacchan.”

“What is?”

“Parkour. I used to be really into it as a kid, but I stopped practising about a year ago. I still have all the moves memorised, I guess.”

“Fucking parkour.” Katsuki placed both hands on his hips. “Of course you’re a goddamn…” He didn’t know the word. “...parkour-ist.”

“Traceur.”

“Hah?”

“Someone who practises parkour is called a traceur.”

“...Shut the hell up, you dweeb.”

 

Katsuki began pacing the room, deep in thought. Deku sat on his sheets silently, watching him walk back and forth. 

“Look, Deku. I don’t have any interest in being your pal, understand? I don’t care how ‘ fascinated’ you are by me. You’re a second-year stalker I would never speak to in my life if we weren’t in the exact circumstances we are in now.”

A sigh escaped Deku’s lips. “I understand. But I-I really thought… maybe we could have talked about it more. I mean, I know it makes you at least a little uneasy, but I wanted to hear more about your train of thought when you plan to murder. I have so many questions I want to ask…”

“I don’t need a constant Q&A session from you. I’d prefer to be alone.”

A cheeky grin spread across Deku’s face. “But it takes two to tango, Kacchan.”

“I’ve been ‘tangoing’ just fine on my own for four years, you damn nerd-”

“Wait, really? Four years?! Oh my gosh…” A blush appeared across his freckles, and his eyes lit up with curiosity.

Katsuki groaned. Now, that was two times he’d accidentally given information away. “Keep it in your pants, Deku. God, you really are a fucking freak, aren’t you?”

Deku furrowed his brow. “Who’s the one doing the killing, Kacchan?”

 

That stung more than Katsuki wanted to admit. Maybe it was the way his forest green eyes stared through him or the unusually serious tone in his voice. Katsuki snatched up his clothes basket and opened the door to his ensuite. He always washed away bloodstained garments in his own shower to avoid alerting his parents.

“Just sit still and don’t move your ass until I come back out.” He shut the sliding door and faced himself in the mirror. There was a tiny speck of blood below his left eye that he scraped off with his nail, but other than that, he looked normal. Katsuki tossed the pile into the shower and turned on the water. He pulled off the rest of his tainted clothes and changed them into some fresh ones, which he kept under his sink. Instantly, he felt better. Katsuki began scrubbing the blood off with hydrogen peroxide, and the discoloured water seeped down the drain. He was quite used to his routine now, and he knew how much of the chemical to use to prevent any discolouration. 

Once he had washed the blood out of the clothes, he let them get drenched and then threw them over the edge of the bath. This would ensure all the blood and chemicals were gone before Katsuki put them through the regular washing machine. He rinsed his hands in the sink and then turned to go back to Deku.

Instead of opening the door, he decided to peek and see what the boy was doing. He saw that he was reading the notebook that had been lying on the ground next to him at his lookout spot and muttering under his breath as he scanned the pages. Katsuki walked over to the distracted Deku and snatched the notebook, holding it up high. Deku instantly panicked.

“Kacchan!” he squeaked. Katsuki slammed his hand over the young boy’s mouth to muffle him as he read the scribbles of notes Deku had taken.

 

 

• All black clothing

• Attacks are between 3-4am

• Right-handed 

• Sticks to the shadows

• Researches targets beforehand

 

 

There was more he had written, but most of it was illegible due to Deku’s quick handwriting. Katsuki chuckled as he handed the book back to its owner.

“You really are a stalker, aren't you, you geek?” Deku’s cheeks got darker, and Katsuki laughed softly. He leaned against the wall, hands stuck in his pockets.

“Alright, Deku. I’ll acknowledge that you’re not completely thoughtless when it comes to this shit. But I still don’t want to be treated like your goddamn science project. So I’m going to propose a compromise.”

Deku sat up. “Yeah?”

“If you’re gonna… observe me or whatever, it’s going to be on my terms,” Katsuki instructed. “I will be the one to contact you, if I feel like it. No more following me or tracking me without me knowing, got it?”

“Got it.”

“I don’t know what you’re planning on getting out of this, but I’ve searched for an answer to why I am the way that I am for a while, and I’ve come up empty. Don’t think you’re gonna figure me out so easily.” Katsuki stretched and yawned, his fingertips almost brushing the ceiling.

“I understand, Kacchan. Don’t worry,” Deku agreed. “Thank you… for compromising for me.”

“It’s not for you,” Katsuki chided. “You’re a pest who won’t leave me alone otherwise. So I may as well set some rules.” He picked up Deku’s shoes and handed them to him. “You should head out now. I’ve got to sleep. Since you’re apparently a parkour wizard or whatever, you should be able to get down fine.”

Deku grinned as he pulled on his shoes, and Katsuki opened the window. “I think I can manage that.” He climbed through the gap, turning around for one last look. “I’ll see you at school, Kacchan.”

Deku dropped from sight, and he could hear the rustling of the grass below him. Katsuki turned off his desk light and fell back onto his bed, putting his head in his hands. He’d just shared his murderous hobby with someone for the first time ever. And it was someone who accepted what he was doing. He must’ve stumbled into a nightmare and not woken up.

 

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

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“Bakugou, you’re still spacing out, man.”

“No I’m not.”

“Kaminari’s hand is on your leg, and you haven’t noticed it for the last two minutes.”

Katsuki whacked the arm off his knee, and Kaminari fell backwards laughing. The three boys were sitting on the grass, under the shade of the school’s oldest tree. Katsuki had packed his own lunch, but it sat unopened on his lap.

“Alright, well, we’re going to get something to drink from inside.” Kirishima rose to his feet. “You want anything?

“Nope.”

“Suit yourself. Come on.” Katsuki’s two friends walked off, giving him some peace and quiet. He opened up the container and took out his chopsticks. It was rice with cut up green chives sprinkled on top. Katsuki didn’t get too hungry at school, and besides, it was better to save room for the bigger dinners his parents cooked in the evening.

 

“Kacchan?”

Katsuki cringed at the soft voice that he hated recognising. He turned around and squinted. Deku was standing against the tree trunk, and the sun beamed through the leaves. His short figure did nothing to block the rays, so Katsuki put his hands above his eyes to keep out the burning sunlight.

“What the hell do you want, nerd?” he jeered. For nearly three days, they hadn’t spoken. Their last conversation was on early Sunday morning when Katsuki took him back to his house after his murder. He had been avoiding the boy at school, which wasn’t hard since their classes were obviously different. Although at lunch, he had no way to stay away from Deku. Katsuki still didn’t want to be seen around an underclassman, but he couldn’t piss Deku off too much in case he decided to open his big mouth in retaliation. So, as much as Katsuki wanted to tell him to go away, he couldn’t. “Are you here to ask more annoying questions about… my thing?”

Deku looked around. “No one can hear us, Kacchan. You can say it.”

Katsuki glared. “You have no idea who could come up behind you with their phone on.”

“Fair enough,” Deku shrugged. “How about we come up with a code?”

Katsuki snorted. “A code? You must really think you’re some kind of super cool hacker because you know how to use a computer.”

“I meant replacing the K word with another so we can talk about it without worrying. Let's replace... “ Deku mimed a stab. “with…. Eating raspberries.”

“That's so fucking dumb.”

“You got any better ideas, smart guy?”

He did not. “Whatever. No talking about…ugh… eating raspberries at school, got it?”

“OK.”

 

Katsuki looked down at the thick textbook he was clutching. “What’s that?”

Deku tilted his head. “Oh, this? My homework for Japanese history. It’s difficult, but I’ve got a lot more time to study now that I don’t have to go to work.”

“I took Japanese history,” Katsuki mumbled. He held out his hand. “Let me see.”

Surprised, Deku took a few steps forward until he was standing above the cross-legged Katsuki, and he handed him the book and worksheets.

“Sit down, nerd,” demanded Katsuki. “I don’t want you hovering over me.”

Deku grinned at the instruction and sat opposite Katsuki, who scanned the questions on the paper quickly. He scoffed. I could show him how to do this in my sleep. 

“Are they seriously giving out the exact same homework every year?” he chuckled.

“The same?”

“Yeah. I remember this from my class.” He gestured at Deku. “Give me a pen.”

Deku pulled a pen from his pocket and handed it over. “Are- are you gonna do it?”

“No, idiot.” He flipped the book open and pointed to a passage. “Each one of these relates to a page in this book. You only need to remember those pages if you want to learn everything they need to teach you. I’ll write down all the pages so you don’t waste your time reading the whole damn novel.”

Deku’s emerald eyes widened. “T-Thank you, Kacchan! This’ll really help.”

Tsk. “Whatever. These damn teachers should get new material.” He scribbled down the pages from memory and handed the book and papers back to Deku, who was pink.

“You can keep the pen if you want,” Deku suggested shyly. Katsuki threw it at his face.

“I’m not keeping your disgusting pen.” He went back to his food.

“Oh…”

 

“Um, Kacchan…?”

“What?”

Deku scratched at his neck. “I-I was wondering… maybe you and I could hang out sometime? Outside of school? Um, we don’t have to mention… eating raspberries… I would just like to spend time with you.”

Katsuki thought about it. Honestly, Deku wasn’t unbelievably insufferable. He was annoying, sure, but there was some charm to his constant rambling and keen eye. Maybe, under different circumstances, he could learn to tolerate him. But Katsuki had to remind himself that he wasn’t someone he could blindly trust. Deku probably didn’t even like anything about Katsuki except the fact he had killed someone he hated, and he engaged in a hobby that Deku was unhealthily obsessed with. Just like everyone else in his life, Deku didn’t really know him. So he turned to the eager boy with a blank stare.

“No.”

His face fell. Deku nodded sadly, collected his things in his arms, and stood up. “A-Alright. I’ll see you around then, Bakugou.”

Katsuki froze. What? Why’d he call me that? 

“Bakugou, who was that?”

Approaching him from behind were Kirishima and Kaminari, finishing off drinks they’d bought from the cafeteria. Deku must have spotted them coming, and he had already hurried away. 

“He a friend of yours?” Kaminari collapsed into the shade, lying on one of Katsuki’s thighs. “What did he want from you?”

Katsuki pushed his head off his leg, earning a yelp from Kaminari. “No one. Just an underclassman asking for some help.”

His friends accepted the excuse and then began a conversation about the long line for food, but as usual, Katsuki wasn’t listening.

 

It had just hit him that that was the first interaction he’d had with Deku that had nothing to do with the act of murder.

 

Notes:

did you know what a parkour artist was called because i definitely had to google it and now i wont ever forget that they're called traceurs
∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

Chapter 4: A Party

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=41bdfa2b0d524ec4

9.7k words! i am pretty happy with this chapter, hope you like it!!

there is some mentioned seroroki, but it's literally blink and you'll miss it lol so if that's not your style just ignore it i guess ┐(シ)┌

The halls of Hase High School quickly filled with students as the bell, signalling the end of the day, cut through the air. The seniors, taller and stronger, pushed through the younger students to get out of the crowded building and step out into freedom.

 

Katsuki walked over to a picnic table outside the school and sat on top of it, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled, frowning at the stream of notifications. Despite avid pushback, Kaminari still kept giving his number out to any random girls who asked. He didn’t have the compassion in him to let them down gently, so he went through the messages, creating a very long blocklist of adoring women.

“Kacchan!”

Katsuki turned at the sound. Clutching both straps of his bright yellow backpack was Deku, beaming widely. He stood up, resisting the urge to groan.

“The hell are you smiling about, nerd?” Katsuki reached out and flicked him on the nose.

“Hey!” He rubbed his nose with this thumb. “I-I just wanted to say… thanks. About the history textbook? We had a test today, and I think I did really well! If it weren’t for you, I probably would have gotten so confused about that book. So… thank you!”

Katsuki pursed his lips. What was Deku’s angle? This interaction made it look like he was a friend to Deku, giving him help out of the kindness of his heart and not out of the uncertainty that the boy had the power to throw him in jail. He couldn’t keep up appearances forever. Katsuki had to draw a line in the sand at some point. “You done?”

Deku’s smile fell. “W-What?”

“You done talking? Because if you are, you can go.” He shooed him away.

“Oh.” Deku ran his hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in clumps over his eyes. “Um, well, have a good afternoon then-”

 

“KAT-” Someone leapt on Katsuki’s shoulders from behind, making him stumble forward and almost fall right into Deku’s arms. “-SUKI!” Pink strands of coily hair fell into his vision, and he grunted at the sudden weight on his back.

“Hello, Ashido,” Katsuki grumbled, planting his feet firmly. She was trying to wrap her long legs around his waist so she could climb on his back, but he pushed her down. Eventually, she gave up and slid off his shoulders onto the ground, hands on her hips.

“You killjoy!” she exclaimed. “And I’ve told you since forever to call me Mina!”

“No thanks.”

Mina pouted. Her curious yellow eyes fell on Deku, who was stunned into silence at the scene. She smiled.

“Aw, who’s this cutie?” Mina pinched his freckled cheek, right where the bruise had been. It had faded away now, but Deku still winced a little in pain.

“No one. Stop touching him.” But she ignored him.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Ah- Izuku M-Midoriya!” he stammered. “Sorry- I didn’t mean to– I mean, I was just leaving!”

“Leaving? But why? Did Katsuki frighten you off already?” Mina made a scary face, curling her pink manicured fingers into claws.

“No, I was just-”

“Oh my God, Kat, did you finally make a friend outside of our group?” She whipped her head back and forth between the two boys. “Hold on, you’re not a senior, are you?”

“I-I’m a second year…” Deku rubbed his face where Mina had pinched him. She gasped.

“That is so adorable!” Mina squealed, holding onto Katsuki’s arm and jumping up and down. “Our Katsuki has a new friend, and he’s a little baby underclassman?”

Katsuki tried to pry her hands off him. “For fuck’s sake, he’s not my-”

“What’s this about Bakugou having a baby with an underclassman?” Sero, a tall boy with thick black locks that fell over his shoulders, sat down at the table. A smaller girl with slim eyes and short purple hair, Jirou, also joined them, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Deku.

 

“You finally punch the V card, Bakugou?” said Jirou, pulling one side of her headphones out. Mina snickered.

“Shut the hell up, morons.” Katsuki felt his face heat up at the ridiculous statements. “If you’re here looking for a free ride, you can get lost.”

“No, dude,” laughed Sero. “We’ve been trying to text you. You never respond to our messages.”

“Clearly I’ve been ignoring them.”

“That’s why we’re here in person.” Sero slapped him on the back. “So. Party at mine this Friday? Are you in or are you-?”

“Hold on.” Jirou pointed a finger at Deku, who trembled like a leaf at the sight of all the upperclassmen around him. “Who the hell is that?”

Katsuki opened his mouth. “He’s-”

“This is Katsuki’s new friend!” Mina put her hands on Deku’s shoulders, getting up in his space and making his anxious shakes more intense. “His name’s Midoriya! Isn’t he precious?”

Sero turned to Katsuki. “I didn’t know you were interested in making more friends. Especially a junior. You always say the five of us are more than enough to keep track of.”

“You are,” Katsuki snapped. “And he isn’t my-”

“Wait, Midoriya!” Mina had her arm wrapped around Deku’s neck, her face squished next to his. Her darker complexion contrasted with his lightly tanned skin. “Do you like parties? You should totally come along to this one at Hanta’s house!”

Katsuki clenched his jaw. You have got to be fucking kidding me.

 

“A party?” Deku gulped. “I-It’s not even Halloween yet, though…”

Mina guffawed. “Oh, you sweet boy.  We don’t need to wait for arbitrary dates to throw a rager! Plus, who said we can’t have this one and another one on Halloween too? The more the merrier!! So, are you game?”

“O-Oh, I-I don’t really go…” stuttered Deku. “And besides, I don’t think K- um, Bakugou would want me there…”

“Don’t be silly!” Mina waved her hand nonchalantly. “He says shit he doesn’t mean all the time! He’s told me to go jump off the roof, like, a hundred times, and we’re best friends! If he’s mean to you, that means he really likes you!!”

“I don’t think-”

But the energetic girl wasn’t listening. She turned to Sero, clutching her hands together in a prayer.

“Hanta, can he come along? Pleeeaassee???” she begged. Sero played with a strand of his dark hair.

“I dunno…” he pondered. “I don’t know how to feel about a junior drinking with us. My parents might get mad.”

“Seriously?” Mina frowned. “He’s only a year younger! Did you forget that we’d also be drinking underage, stupid?”

 

Katsuki was furious. He was determined to keep his forced alliance with Deku discreet, but now his entire friend group was aware of him and thought he and the nerd were best pals. And now, he was going to be tagging along to a party, even though Katsuki had barely known him for two weeks. He felt his nails breaking the skin of his palms, and his vision nearly went white with rage.

“I guess if you’re fine with it, Midoriya, you can come too,” Sero grinned. “I’m interested in what made Bakugou pick you as a friend.”

“I did not– ”

“Here, Midoriya, give us your number, and we’ll text you the details.” Jirou held out her phone for Deku to type his information in, and he carefully took it. Katsuki finally snapped.

“This goddamn nerd is not my friend, got it?” he denounced. “He’s annoying and weird, and he does that stupid muttering thing way too fucking much; he’s clingy and too much of a smartass for his own good! He just follows me around all the time and says dumb shit that I don't care about! We are not and never will be friends!”

 

The group fell silent. Deku looked like he was about to start crying, and he’d gone white as a ghost. Katsuki’s breaths came out in short but heavy intervals. His friends looked at him, puzzled, except for Mina, who suddenly burst out laughing.

“Wow, that's the most emotion I’ve seen from him in a while!” she cackled. “Midoriya, he must really have a connection with you! What the hell did you do to him?”

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Katsuki wanted to ditch the party. He didn’t like them all that much in the first place, but he went along with them begrudgingly for the sake of keeping his friends off his ass. And it didn’t matter how much he told them he didn’t want Deku there; they never took him seriously. His frustration was interpreted as an elaborate joke.

Typically, most third-year students would be invited, and they’d dance, drink, and hook up in Sero’s big backyard. Once they left, it would just be his friend group - Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero and Jirou - who would light up the firepit and talk about random topics until early morning. Katsuki was a listener more than a talker, so he didn’t contribute much. And although he’d never admit it, he did enjoy hearing his friends joke and laugh about mundane stuff, unbothered by their lives in this early morning limbo. But a burning part of his heart knew he wasn’t like them. He didn’t belong. They were good people. Katsuki was not.

The light at the intersection turned green, and Katsuki pushed down on the pedal. He hated the idea of being around Deku and his rowdy, drunk friends. Normally, their intoxicated antics were annoying on their own, but if he had Deku to worry about, it was going to make the night borderline impossible. But he couldn’t skip it. Because if he did, his irresponsible friends would end up getting Deku way too drunk and he might end up slipping something out about Katsuki’s devastating secret. He couldn’t let that happen. And if he threatened Deku with anything and told him not to go to the party, he risked him getting mad and spilling the secret anyway. So here Katsuki was, at 9:00 on a Friday night, dressed in his warm leather jacket, driving over to Sero’s house with his hands angrily gripping the steering wheel.

 

Turned out Deku lived within walking distance of Sero’s neighbourhood, so he was already there when Katsuki walked through the front door and barely acknowledged the guests. Some heads turned as he walked through the house and into the open backyard, heading straight towards Kaminari and Kirishima, who were interrogating the second year. 

“So, Midoriya, right?” Kaminari had a plastic cup in his hand and was attempting to pawn it off on Deku. “Tell me, how long have you been friends with Bakugou? No offence, but he really hates the juniors. So you must’ve done something crazy to get his approval. Come on, you can tell me!”

“Oh, well…” Deku played with his fingers so he couldn't get the cup forced into his hands. “We-we just met, actually. And we aren’t that close… he just–”

“He’s just an insect I haven’t swatted away yet.” Katsuki stepped in and swiped the cup away from his troublesome friend, dumping it in a nearby plant.

“Hey man, I was drinking that!” Kaminari whined.

“No you weren’t.” Katsuki crushed up the cup and tossed it into a bin that had been wheeled into the yard for trash. “Stop trying to get the nerd drunk.”

“Might be a bit too late for that,” Kirishima giggled. “He’s had a few already.”

“Huh?” Katsuki scowled at Deku, who blushed deep red.

“I-I only had two cups of the punch…” he muttered.

“The punch?” Katsuki glared at the older duo. “You let him drink that? Good God, you’re all idiots.” He grabbed Deku by the wrist and pulled him away, ignoring the yells of the two boys they left behind. Katsuki led Deku into the house and turned down a hallway, which was mostly empty. 

 

Katsuki got a good look at him. He wore the same light blue hoodie that he’d worn when he showed up at Katsuki’s house for the first time, but the shirt underneath was white and by the looks of it, had already been stained by a few drinks. Deku’s jeans were ripped at the knees, and his flashy red shoes stood out in the dim lighting. He could not have looked more plain. Deku didn’t fit in with the party scene at all.

“Kacchan, I-” Katsuki cut him off with a finger inches away from his eyes, and he leaned in close.

“I’m going to say this once, alright?” Deku nodded. “Watch your fucking liquor tonight. I don’t know how much of a lightweight you are since you probably weigh 110 pounds, but if you get too shitfaced and start involuntarily spilling about how I- …eat raspberries… I swear to God, you won’t live to see another day, Deku.”

He sighed. “I get it, but... Kacchan, please have a little faith in me. I haven’t said anything about the raspberries, I promise–”

“I didn’t even want you to be here, bastard,” Katsuki fumed. “But now I have to babysit you all night because my stupid friends think you’re my friend. Which you aren’t, by the way, and you better not be telling them that you are.”

“...I haven’t. I only told Kirishima that you helped me with my history homework.”

“And that’s all the interactions we’ve had, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Kacchan. That’s all.”

Katsuki stood up straight and sighed. “Good. Also, don’t drink the fucking punch, ever. You have no idea what’ll be in it. Someone could have spiked it with fentanyl, for all you know.”

“O-Oh. I’ll… keep that in mind…”

 

“Hey, Katsuki! There you are!” Mina’s cheerful voice echoed down the hallway, and she gasped when she saw Deku. “Ooh, Midoriya!! Come hang out with me!!” She leapt on him, giving him a fully wrapped hug. Mina was more of a party animal than Katsuki would be in ten lifetimes. She was wearing a thin pink tank top and dark purple leggings, which was too much skin for Deku, judging by his flushed face. Mina dragged him away, chatting his ear off. Katsuki almost stopped them, but Deku’s desperate words pulled him back.

Kacchan, please have a little faith in me. Ugh. He hated the tone of his voice so much.

Sero showed up behind him, pulling Katsuki into a handshake that calmed his nerves a little. “Hey, man. Thanks for coming.”

“Whatever. Happy that you got this damn nerd here to bring the party down?”

Sero laughed. “Well, he’s definitely a fish out of water, but it’s kind of cute, right? Like, he’s just so unaware of everything. When he got here, he was asking me if he should change out of his shoes and stuff.” 

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “God, I hate him.”

“Seriously, dude, how did you start hanging around him? He’s the polar opposite of you. For example, he’s actually nice.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well, we don’t ’hang out’. He just talks to me, which isn’t exactly my choice. And he definitely isn’t as nice as you think. That asshole is evil sometimes.”

Sero gave him a quizzical look. “You know, if you two have something going on, it’s fine with us-”

Katsuki nearly slapped him, but Sero was quicker, and he stepped back out of reach of Katsuki’s right hand. 

“You better not think that’s what’s happening, you motherfucker,” he growled. “Is that what the others think as well?”

Sero laughed loudly, grabbing at his side. “Oh shit! Guess that’s Katsuki 1, Hanta 0!” He wiped tears from his eyes. “OK, at first, I thought you and him had to have been fucking or something, since you hardly ever hang around the younger years. But there’s clearly something else going on.”

Katsuki felt pressure fill his head. The thought of doing any sort of intimacy , let alone sexual, with Deku nearly made him puke. Was that the only explanation these morons could come up with? Is that all they think about?!

“If you’re worried about anyone else wondering that, don’t. No one else does. It was only me. The rest of them know you’re just friends.”

“We. Aren’t. Friends,” he forced out through clenched teeth.

“Sure. Whatever you say, Katsuki ‘No-Emotions-Allowed’ Bakugou.”

That was Katsuki. He had shut off all initiations of any feelings deeper than surface level. Not even his friends attempted to connect with him on an emotional level anymore. All things considered, it was probably for the best. But Katsuki was only human. He couldn’t help but feel a little hurt every time someone backed off and didn’t try to push. Was he not worth the effort to try and get to the bottom of how he was feeling? He knew he was the only one to blame, though. After so many years of ignoring how he felt, Katsuki had made it impossible for anyone to pry into his mind. And most of the time, he preferred it that way.

 

“Anyway-” continued Sero. “-the reason I asked was because… there’s this other second year I’ve had my eye on for a bit.”

Katsuki cringed. “Gross.”

“What?! They’re only a year younger!! It’s fine!”

“Dumbass, I’m not talking about that. I know it’s not bad, but… you’re actually into a second year?” Katsuki couldn’t think of anything more disgusting. Cockroaches were more desirable to Katsuki than underclassmen. Before Deku, it was more likely that Katsuki would have set one on fire before he ever spoke to them. God help the soul that got him started on the first years.

“Yeah, he’s got these different coloured eyes, and his face is really intense, but he’s hot, so…” Sero swooned. “I’ve wanted to ask him out for a while.”

Katsuki waved his hand. “Why are you telling me like I’ll be of any help? If you like the guy, then just do it.”

Sero threaded his bony fingers through his black hair. “Nah, I’m a pussy. Can’t do it. Was wondering if Midoriya knew him and could introduce me…”

“Alright, I’m not talking about shitty romance with you anymore,” Katsuki muttered as he walked away. “Go talk about your failed love life with Ashido or Jirou.”

“Girls just don’t get it like you do, Bakugou!” he called out.

 

Katsuki pushed through the crowd of dancers to the drink table. He was planning on driving home, so he grabbed a soda from the mini fridge and popped off the tab. The thumping music blasted his ears, and he couldn’t place the song over the sounds of other partygoers singing and jumping around.

He thought about Deku, about his mouth that never stopped talking and what he could possibly be saying to the others. Katsuki sipped his drink, trying his best to calm down and remember what Deku had told him. To have faith. Unsurprisingly, it was hard for him to have any in the kid who could end his entire life by blurting out the wrong thing while under the influence of alcohol.

As he pondered on whether or not to go looking for Deku, a short girl made eye contact with Katsuki from the dance floor. She was wearing a red sleeveless blouse that ended above her stomach and a short pleated skirt that flowed as she sauntered over, drink in hand. He rolled his eyes.

“Hey, handsome,” she crooned as she leaned over the table. “What’s your name?”

“Piss off,” he retorted. He had no patience to be polite.

“Sounds exotic,” she giggled, twisting her platinum blonde hair through her fingers. “Want to know my name?”

“Not particularly.”

She laughed again, putting one hand on his forearm. “So rude. You’re lucky I’m into that.” She walked her fingers up his arm and onto his shoulder. “Have you had anything to drink tonight, love? I can show you something a lot… sweeter.”

Katsuki sighed profoundly and stepped away, letting the girl stumble as she caught herself on the table.

“Not. Interested.” His eyes flickered down to her neck, which was showing an excessive amount of cleavage. “And do up your goddamn shirt buttons.” Katsuki walked into the backyard, crushing up the plastic can in his fist as he scanned the faces for a familiar one. Sitting around the dead fire pit was Mina, arms strewn across Deku, who looked completely out of his element. Katsuki strolled over, annoyed that Deku was a better option for company than a drunk woman that most guys his age would kill for the attention of.

 

“Katsuki!” Mina squealed. “Come sit with us!”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Katsuki grumbled as he squatted down on the bricks. Along with Mina and Deku, Kaminari and Jirou were also chatting amongst themselves, with a few other classmates Katsuki didn’t recognise joining the group.

“We were getting ready to play a game!” Mina announced, holding up her phone. “We spin a wheel, and whoever it lands on has to say an embarrassing secret about another person. If they don’t, they drink!”

Cups were scattered in piles across the bricks, and a few bottles of various spirits sat next to Mina. Katsuki folded his arms.

“Sounds lame.”

“Hey, don’t be a party pooper! Even Deku said he would join in!”

Katsuki froze. “What’d you call him?”

“Deku!” she repeated. “Isn’t it a cute name?”

“I told her about it,” Deku poked his head out from behind Mina. His face was redder than the last time Katsuki had seen him, and his voice was slightly deeper than usual. He’d definitely had a few more drinks. “And I told her the meaning behind the nickname.”

His crimson eyes blinked a few times in shock before he narrowed them again. “Is that supposed to annoy me? I don’t give a shit what people call you.” But it did annoy him. He’d been wondering the meaning behind the nickname since he met the boy. Looking it up online yielded no results, but he didn’t let anything show on his face. If the nerd was going to keep him in the dark, then so be it.

“Alright, gather around!” She cupped her hands. “Hanta! Ei! Come over here!”

 

Once a large group had formed, Mina put everyone’s names into her phone and spun the wheel.

“First up… Denki! You have to tell the group an embarrassing secret about… Eijirou! Your closest friend!!”

Kirishima reddened. “Oh no… I know what he’s going to say…”

Katsuki turned to him, grinning. “What? It can’t be that bad.”

He sighed. “I guess it’s not… but it’s just–”

“Embarrassing?” Mina interrupted. “That’s the point! Spill it!”

Kaminari took a deep breath. “Alright. I hope you can forgive me, bro.” He stood up. “Kirishima’s favourite movie of all time… is ‘The Notebook’, and he always ends up a sobbing mess by the end.”

Laughter popped up through the group, and Kirishima covered his burning face.

“It’s sad, OK?!” he exclaimed. “The ending always gets me! I can’t help it!!”

“I bet you only shed the manliest of tears, Ei.” Mina offered him a reassuring pat on the head. “Alright, who’s next?”

The next couple of spins belonged to people Katsuki didn’t recognise, so their secrets didn’t resonate with him. He spaced out, only occasionally paying attention to take note of Deku sipping from a new cup. Katsuki frowned. Either he had a crazy high tolerance, or he was going to be suffering from a killer hangover the next day.

“OK, spinning again!” Mina held up her phone. “Looks like the lucky winner is… Midoriya!”

Deku choked on his drink. “Oh- me? I didn’t know I was actually playing… I just don’t know many people here…”

Mina grinned, her face illuminated by her bright screen. “Oh, don’t worry, honey. Because the person you have to tell us a secret about… is good old Katsuki!”

A few people let out curious ‘oooo’s. Katsuki’s heart dropped to his stomach. He met Deku’s line of sight, staring at his wide green eyes.

“Well, this is gonna be interesting,” Jirou said. “Considering we don’t even know how these two met.”

“Give us something juicy, Midoriya!” urged Sero.

Katsuki watched Deku put his drink down and fold his hands in his lap. His heart raced at what he could possibly reveal.

He doesn’t know anything about me. There’s only one thing he could say. But he won’t say anything about the killing, will he? What if he does, but it’s all stupid and vague? Then people will ask questions, and he’s probably too drunk to be able to divert them. And then if I speak up, they’re gonna get suspicious and pry more, and then-

“Well, Deku is what Bakugou calls me, but he also lets me call him a nickname of his own.”

 

The group fell silent before erupting into questions. Oh, great. Katsuki felt the tips of his ears get hot. It wasn’t related to murder, but now he wanted to kill himself for how humiliating this was going to be.

“What do you call him, Midoriya?” Kirishima shouted.

Someone started shushing the group until it was quiet again. Deku grinned mischievously, enunciating the two-syllable word. “Kacchan.”

Hoots of laughter filled the night sky. Katsuki groaned and pulled his shirt over his face.

“Kacchan?!” Kaminari was in stitches. “Oh, that’s too good. Please, Midoriya, tell me what the hell kind of blackmail you have on him that you’re allowed to get away with calling him that?”

Deku shrugged. “I’m not holding anything over him. There’s nothing he’s told me I want to use against him.”

Katsuki stared at Deku through his blonde fringe. ‘There’s nothing he’s told me I want to use against him’. Was that really what he believed? He had doubted him so heavily, but did Deku honestly have no intention of using his crimes as leverage?

What do they say? Drunk words, sober thoughts? he brooded. A pink head of hair suddenly leaned on his shoulder, shaking with laughter.

“Katsuki, who the hell is this kid?” Mina gasped. “You befriend this second year out of the blue, even though you hate juniors, and you let him call you a nickname? And it’s fucking Kacchan?? Did you get replaced by a doppelgänger in the last week?”

Katsuki didn’t reply, nor did he push Mina away. His mind was swirling with Deku’s words. He held so much distrust for the boy despite him never implying that he wanted to turn against him. But he couldn’t bring himself to believe him entirely. It was too soon. Deku’s intentions could change in a flash. He still didn’t know how to feel about his admiration for Katsuki’s crimes. It was too unsettling and too perfect that he had been the person to discover him. Right now, he was the single person in the world who not only knew but accepted that Katsuki was a monster.

As the night faded into early morning, more partygoers bid farewell to the host. The music slowly started to get turned down, and the drinks were collected in garbage bags and recycling bins. Kirishima and Mina were in charge of lighting the campfire, while Katsuki and Sero chased out every last couple sucking face behind closed doors. Soon, the party had dwindled into the five seniors and Deku, who was more than wasted by then. The group sat around the crackling flame, holding cups of water, which had been provided by an irritated Katsuki.

“You’ve all had enough of that shit tonight. Make a good decision for once.”

 

Deku was strictly banned from any more alcohol entering his system, so he quickly gulped down the cold drink. He looked around nervously, feeling out of place with the upperclassmen.

“Y’know, if- if this is time for just you guys to hang out now…I can… walk home. If y’want me to go, I will,” he slurred to Sero, who ruffled his hair.

“Nah, you’re staying,” he grinned. “I’ve still got questions about you and Bakugou. Plus, you’re a riot, dude. I didn’t know juniors could be so fun.”

Deku beamed and then turned to Katsuki. He stuck out his tongue.

“Y’hear that, Kacchan? Your friends think ‘m fun!!”

Katsuki pursed his lips. He had deliberately sat directly across from Deku to ensure he could see if the boy was sneaking any more drinks. But now, those drunken green eyes bore right into him, and he clenched his arms folded across his chest.

“Alrighty, I think we’re ready to go.” Mina, who had stolen one of Sero’s jumpers, pulled her knees closer to her chest and looked around. “So, what game should we play first?”

“We’ve already played enough of your games tonight, Mina,” Jirou murmured. She was sharing a giant red blanket spreading across her, Kaminari and Kirishima’s torsos. “Can’t we just talk?”

“But we’ve got a special guest!” Mina protested. She reached over and hugged Deku’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly. “This is Midoriya’s first party, and I want him to have good memories!”

“Poor bastard’s not going to have any memories of tonight,” Kaminari chuckled. “Did you see how many drinks he had?”

“Nuh-uh!” Deku cried. “I’ll ‘member it all. I’ve got… an exceptional memory.”

“Sure you do. Can you remember your PIN number?”

Deku paused. “7-0–”

Sero slapped a hand over his mouth, and the group burst into laughter. Katsuki tried to hide his smile. He didn’t like this. Deku wasn’t his friend. He was a nuisance, and he didn’t want to attach any feelings other than annoyance to him. But Deku had charisma about him that made it hard to hate him completely. Katsuki wished he had never met him if it meant that the looming threat of being exposed for his crimes was gone. But sometimes, for a few seconds, he could forget that he held animosity towards Deku.

 

“How about truth or dare?” piped up Mina. 

“We’ve known each other since grade school,” muttered Jirou. “We all already know everything about each other.”

“Not everyone.” Mina pinched Deku’s cheeks, squishing his face. “We can direct all our questions to Midoriya!”

Kirishima smiled. “Ooo, good idea. I’ve got a lot of things to ask him.” He leaned in and whispered to Katsuki next to him. “Like how he puts up with your ass. I need some pointers.” 

Deku flashed his teeth in a broad smile, showing off his clear braces. “OK! Sounds fun!”

There were a lot of questions that Katsuki was worried might come up, but throughout the night, Deku had done an excellent job at dodging uncomfortable topics when it came to him and Katsuki. However, that was before he had been pressured into sculling three drinks in under a minute by a scheming Mina Ashido. Intoxication was setting in fast, and he was clearly a lot more loose with his words than he had been. 

“Don’t ask him anything stupid,” Katsuki warned. “He’s still a kid.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” smirked Kaminari, clearly plotting something. Deku tried to butt in.

“Kacchan, I’m OK with–” Katsuki raised his hand to cut him off.

“If you try to trick him into your explicit bullshit, I’m going to kill you.”

“Oh, so Kacchan has a problem when it’s Deku who we’ll be messing with- OW!!” Katsuki punched him in the shoulder, the pain only slightly dulled by alcohol.

Mina took a drink from her cup of water. “Midoriya, I’ll ask first. Truth or dare?”

“Dare!” he announced happily.

“I dare you to kiss who you think is the most attractive person here.”

Deku flushed red. He scanned the eager faces with a nervous look before scratching the back of his head.

“Um- on the l-lips?” he muttered apprehensively.

Mina giggled. “If I were a meaner woman, I’d say yes. But no, it can be on the cheek if you want, babe.”

A small sigh exited his mouth. Deku stood up and took a few steps forward. Katsuki slowly raised his head. His blown-out eyes were looking down on him intently.

Oh, hell no.

Deku leaned down, and Katsuki raised his hand to stop his lips, but Deku tilted his head to the right and placed a soft peck on Kirishima’s cheek. He stood back up with a grin.

“Did you really think I was going to kiss you , Kacchan?” he teased. Katsuki fumed silently as the boy beside him laughed softly.

“Wow, that was adorable,” Kirishima tittered. He turned to Katsuki. “Your reign as the hottest guy in our year is over, bud.”

“Because one second year kissed you?” Katsuki snapped harshly. “Get your head outta your ass.”

Kirishima frowned and lowered his voice. “Hey, I was kidding. Are you okay? You need more water or something?”

“No, dumbass-”

 

“OK, my turn!” Kaminari clapped. “Midoriya! Truth or dare!”

“Dare!”

Kaminari evilly clasped his hands together. “Alright, you’ve got to take off your shirt–”

“NO.” Katsuki interrupted. “I said nothing stupid, asshole.”

“What?!” Kaminari exclaimed. “It’s a game! And we’ve done way freakier dares than this!”

“Not with someone else around,” hissed Katsuki. “He’s 17, you son of a bitch.”

“So? It’s no different to the locker rooms! It’s not like I asked him to do seven minutes in heaven with me! I’m not doin’ it to be weird!”

The group fell silent. Kaminari looked anxiously at all the unimpressed faces, who didn’t offer him any support.

“Yeah, you might be alone here, Denki,” Mina giggled.

“You’re all a bunch of goody-two-shoes!” he pouted, burning red. “Anyway, Midoriya didn’t answer, so he has to–”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.” Deku pulled his hoodie over his head, taking his stained shirt with it. Goosebumps pricked up on him at the frigid air, and he tossed the clothes aside, shuffling closer to the fire and hovering his hands over the open flame. Katsuki glanced at Deku’s soft, tanned skin coated with dark freckles. He continued trailing his eyes down to his arms, which were decorated with light scars. From what, he couldn't discern. 

Kirishima cleared his throat. “I’ve got one, Midoriya.” Deku crossed his legs and smiled. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Alright… tell us the thing you like most about Bakugou.”

Deku rubbed his nose. “Oh- uh, alright. Give me a second to think…”

Katsuki stared at Deku, who was muttering under his breath. The thing he liked most about him? Probably that he saw himself as a psychiatrist and Katsuki as a patient, someone to dissect and infiltrate the mind of. He knew nothing about Katsuki’s personality, what he liked and didn’t like to do, his tastes in food, what he listened to, his clothing sense, anything. They had one singular thing in common: they were both aware that Katsuki was a killer.

“The thing I like most about Kacchan…” Deku started. “He’s very driven in what he does. He doesn’t do things half-baked. I think that’s very admirable. And he’s very sure of himself, too. He knows exactly who he is. I like that about him.” 

The group was quiet for a few seconds. Katsuki wasn’t used to such compliments. Most people who described him used less than comforting words to define him. They called him brash, egotistical and rude. Prone to outbursts and hurting people, showing little concern for other’s feelings. Even his friends constantly labelled him negatively despite being close. But that was just the way Katsuki was. He wasn’t reputed as a nice person for good reason. There was truth to the unfavourable rumours; he was petulant. He was temperamental. And he wasn’t a person one looked for comfort in. But Deku had forsaken all of that in place of encouragement. Despite witnessing the darkest domain of Katsuki’s life, he sang his praises. And that caused a puzzle piece to click into place in the picture Katsuki had conjured of Deku in his mind. 

 

Deku grinned. “Jirou? Do you want to ask me something?”

Shaking her purple locks, the daydreaming Jirou returned to the moment. “O-Oh, yeah. Um… truth or dare, Midoriya?”

“Hmm… dare this time.”

“I dare you… to do a flip.”

“Aw, Kyoka, he’s drunk!” Mina protested. “He’ll break his neck!”

Deku raised an eyebrow. “I can do it.”

Sero whistled. “That’s brutal. Are you sure you want to try, Midoriya?”

At their cluelessness, Katsuki couldn’t help the smile that curled onto his lips. Deku made a similar face, nodding at Sero’s question and standing up from the fire, his teeth chattering the further he got from the warmth. The group watched silently as he walked over to the lawn, facing the brick wall of the house. He took off into a sprint, running up the wall to the roof gutter and pushing off. Deku flipped in the air twice and landed flat on his feet. 

Everyone but Katsuki gasped and burst into applause. Deku took a sheepish bow before hurrying back to the heat of the fire, the light hairs on his bare skin standing up.

“Whoa, Midoriya!” Kirishima cried. “You keep surprising us! I didn’t know you were a ninja!!”

Deku rubbed his hands together over the flame. “Ugh, it’s so much harder to do in jeans. But yeah, I’ve been taking parkour lessons since I was a kid. It’s a really beautiful sport; it makes use of mobility and stamina, so it’s great for your body. You do have to have pitch-perfect balance, or you risk injuring yourself. It almost makes me feel like I’m flying when I pull something really complicated off. Although, I wasn’t always this good, hence all the scars on my arms and legs. I’ve stacked it many times, but I obviously still love doing it! Parkour’s super versatile, too; you can do obstacle courses, navigate through urban areas, and there are so many ways to put it into everyday practice!! Most people think it’s all flashy flips and acrobatics, but there’s so much more to it! You know, it's kind of ridiculous that such a popular sport doesn't get as much recognition for how amazing it is. I mean, it’s not even considered for the Olympics, which is crazy, considering that they have competitions for gymnastics, and they’re similar in a lot of ways–”

 

“Um, Midoriya?”

Deku’s head snapped up. “Oh– sorry! I tend to ramble a lot. You should have stopped me sooner if it was getting annoying…”

Sero’s large hand smacked Deku on the back encouragingly. “Nah, man, it’s cool to see how passionate you are! I mean, I don’t even have anything I could talk about that long.”

“What about that second year you’ve got a crush on, huh?” Katsuki taunted. Sero turned red.

“Ooh, you’re trying to bond with the juniors too, Hanta?” Mina laughed. “Tell us, who is it?”

“I-I’m not telling you!” he affirmed, embarrassed. “A-Anyway, it’s my turn to ask Midoriya something.”

“I pick dare,” Deku said.

“Alright, then I dare you to tell us the worst thing you’ve ever done!”

That damn loophole. Katsuki clenched his fist, trying to remain calm. Deku was still pretty drunk; he could hear it in his low voice and noticed how he swayed from side to side despite sitting still. Luckily, most of the questions had bypassed Katsuki as a topic. But there was still the chance Deku might accidentally blurt something out.

“The worst thing I’ve ever done…” Deku pinched his bottom lip tightly. “I guess… I’ve seen a crime being committed, and I did nothing to stop it.”

Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat. Deku wasn’t looking at him; if he didn’t know better, he’d say the nerd was deliberately not facing him, so he didn’t accidentally give anything away with his eyes.

Sero whooped. “Whoa, this second year’s a bad boy!”

“Aw, come on, Midoriya!” Kaminari moaned. “You gotta give us more deets than that!”

“He’s exaggerating,” yawned Jirou. “I bet it was something stupid like jaywalking.”

“Precisely,” Deku deadpanned.

“Come on, tell us!” Kaminari urged. “What was the crime?”

Deku put a finger over his lips. “That’s another question.”

Kaminari groaned and turned to Katsuki, putting his grass-stained hands on his forearm. “Bakugou, you’re the last one! Make it count!”

Katsuki shrugged his hands off and leaned forward, leaning his clutched arms on his thighs. Clutching his hands, he looked Deku up and down. Sweat was starting to build on his forehead and chest, the droplets reflecting off the fire. Katsuki had one question to ask him. It would confirm a lot of the suspicions he had made about Deku during the night. If he answered the way Katsuki thought, a good amount of his worries about Deku would disappear.

 

“Deku. Truth or dare.”

Deku let his eyes meet Katsuki’s. Confidently, he folded his arms and stood up straight. “Dare.”

“I dare you to tell everyone about your favourite interest.”

Deku’s eyes widened in surprise, and everyone else in the group frowned.

“Huh? That’s lame!” Mina exclaimed. “He already told everyone about parkouring. Pick something else, Katsuki!”

“No,” Katsuki said. “Answer, Deku.”

Deku’s breath shuddered. He narrowed his round eyes at Katsuki, who only raised a lazy eyebrow.

Go on, Deku, he tried to say with his eyes. I want to know what you really think. Deku slouched over, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

“My favourite interest…is discussing the topic of eating raspberries. You think I’m passionate about parkour? That’s nothing compared to raspberries. I’m absolutely obsessed with everything about them - the look, the feel, the sound, the smell, everything. I want to understand exactly what draws people to eat raspberries and not, say, blueberries instead. I want to know the exact process behind creating fresh raspberries to eat. And I really love talking to people who comprehend the art behind eating raspberries as well as I do. It’s so hard to find people who are also devoted to such a strange topic. I’d consider myself lucky to find someone in my life who is as intrigued by raspberries as I am.”

 

Katsuki’s breath came out in short staccato. To everyone else, Deku had just gone on a strange rant about fruits. But the true meaning behind his admission clung to Katsuki’s mind. No one else had any clue about how morbid his words really were. The dark clouds around Deku’s face were enough to tell Katsuki he was being 100% serious. He was borderline obsessed with the idea of murder, and Katsuki was the bridge that connected being an observer and a participant. There was no doubt in his mind now that Deku was unhinged. But who else could Katsuki put his faith in now? He wasn’t going to report him; in fact, based on what he had just said, it sounded more like he encouraged it. But that was a problem itself. Katsuki never wanted his compulsions to get out of control. That was why he didn’t kill witnesses. His drive to kill wasn’t out of bloodlust. To him, it was as necessary as breathing, but it wasn’t something he ever wanted to be consumed by. Katsuki’s slender fingers dug into his thighs. He would need to have another chat with Deku soon to try and talk some sense into him.

 

The rest of the group was smothered by confused silence. Deku sat down and rubbed his arms to heat himself up again. Eventually, Kirishima coughed.

“Alright, that was… a little weird and unexpected, but hey, everyone has their hobbies, right? I didn’t know anyone felt so strongly about raspberries.” 

Deku giggled. “Sorry. I know it’s strange, but I may as well get it all out there.”

“Talk about underwhelming,” Kaminari yawned. Sero, on the other hand, was frowning with suspicion. Katsuki glared at him.

“Got something to say, bastard?” he barked. Sero threw up his hands.

“Is eating raspberries code for something sex related?” he spouted. “Did you two just flirt in front of all of us? Are you actually banging just like I suspected?”

Mina shrieked with laughter, and Deku chuckled nervously. Katsuki got up and kicked Sero in the side, knocking him onto the grass. He laughed uncontrollably as Katsuki kept kicking and hitting him, not enough to hurt but enough to keep him down as he shouted at him to take his words back.

The first person to fall asleep was Mina. She had chatted herself out, and Sero’s comfortable jacket kept her warm as she drifted to sleep. Kaminari and Jirou were next, both wrapped up in the blanket they shared. Kirishima had taken himself out of the equation and sat in front of the fire with Sero and Katsuki on either side of him. The three boys were all too alert to try and rest, and they all mindlessly scrolled through their phones.

“Hey, shouldn’t Midoriya be back by now?” Sero wondered. 

 

After the games were over and Deku tried to put his clothes back on, he realised that he had accidentally thrown them onto a spilled puddle of alcohol and hadn’t noticed that they were soaked until he picked them up again. Sero instructed him to help himself to any shirts in his closet, and he’d wash the stains from the clothes that weekend. Thanking him, Deku rushed inside to get cleaned up, but he hadn’t returned in nearly twenty minutes.

“Yeah, he’s sure taking his time,” Kirishima pondered.

“He’s probably flipping through all your dirty mags,” muttered Katsuki.

“What?” Sero yelped. “I don’t- I’ve never even touched one! And who the hell keeps magazines for that shit? Do you know what year you’re in?!”

“Maybe we should go check on him.” Kirishima stood up, then gasped. “Oh no, what if he hit his head or something?”

“I think we’d hear if his thick skull banged against something inside,” Katsuki said.

“I’m serious; he had a lot to drink. And he couldn’t tip the scale 120 pounds soaking wet.” Kirishima pulled Sero to his feet. “Come on, we need to see if he’s OK.” His other hand grabbed Katsuki’s bicep. “Get up, Bakugou, he’s your friend too.”

Exasperdly, Katsuki hauled himself up. “He isn’t my friend.” But the other boys weren’t paying attention. They opened the back door, searching the house with their phones as flashlights.

“Midoriya?” Kirishima whispered. The lounge room was a mess, with discarded cups littering every surface. Furniture had moved from their regular spots – most cushions had been flung from their homes and lay sadly on the floor. 

“Let’s check the bathroom,” Sero said quietly. The fluorescent light led the way, but when the trio investigated, they found nothing except the slow dripping of a tap and the faint smell of alcohol.

“Nerd’s not here. Did you even try your own room, moron?” Katsuki mumbled.

“Not yet.” Sero walked down the end of the hall and opened his door, peering in. Katsuki heard a short sigh of relief. “He’s asleep.”

 

The door opened wider, and Katsuki craned to look inside. Deku was passed out on Sero’s tidy bed, arms and legs spread like a starfish. He had changed into one of the many band tees the black-haired boy owned, and his breathing was soft and rhythmic.

“I don’t really want to wake him up,” whispered Kirishima. “He’s probably exhausted.”

“Same. I’m ready to crash, though,” Sero sighed. “And I don’t mind that he’s on my bed, but my parents might find it weird if they come home tomorrow and this random junior’s still over.”

“I’d take him home, but I caught a ride with Denki.” Kirishima ran his hand through his crimson hair, which was falling down to his shoulders as the gel from the day disappeared. “And I don’t know him all that well.”

Katsuki felt two pairs of eyes stare him down. His shoulders tensed.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not babysitting Deku’s drunk ass.”

“We don’t want you to do that,” Sero said. “You’re the only one who can drive. And you know him best out of anyone, so you should be the one to take him home.”

“The fuck? Do I look like a chauffeur?” Katsuki spat.

“Come on, man,” Kirishima pleaded. “He’s tired. Just take him back to his house so he can sleep tonight off. It was a lot, especially for someone who wasn’t used to parties.”

Katsuki clenched his jaw. Deku, so innocent-looking in his slumber, was still causing him problems when he wasn’t conscious. 

“Jesus Christ.” He pinched his nose bridge. “I’m going to kill him when he wakes up.”

“Please refrain from murdering Midoriya,” joked Sero. “He’s cool. I wanna hang out with him more.”

“No, you don’t,” Katsuki retorted. “And he isn’t cool.”

Kirishima sighed heavily and walked over to the bed, gently picking the sleeping Deku up and holding him in his arms. He stirred a little, but his eyes remained closed.

“I’ll carry him to your car.”

Katsuki clicked the seatbelt over Deku’s body. He hadn’t shown any signs of waking up since Kirishima had carefully placed him in Katsuki’s front seat. It was now around four in the morning, and the chirping cicadas were the only sounds heard on the street.

“Alright, well, thanks for coming, man.” Sero held out his hand, and Katsuki grabbed it for a quick shake. “And really, thanks for bringing Midoriya. He’s pretty awesome. I can’t believe he’s friends with you. Let him tag along more often.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Never again. If he comes, I’m not showin’ up.”

“You’re so serious when it comes to him,” Kirishima said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you like this around someone before.”

“Watch your mouth, shitty hair,” Katsuki growled. He sat down in his seat, slamming the door shut and starting the engine. He saw a flash of his friends waving in the rear-view mirror as he pulled out of the driveway. 

Alright, all I’ve got to do is take the loser home. We don’t have to talk about anything from tonight; I’ve just got to keep him safe until-

Katsuki slammed on the brakes at a stop sign. An ear-piercing screech came from his tyres. Miraculously, Deku still didn’t rise. Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut and put his head on the steering wheel.

 

Goddamnit. I don’t know where he lives.

Katsuki approached the parking lot overlooking Hase’s calm, deserted beach. It was a popular lookout spot, and according to sources, it was a perfect place to be when the sun peaked over the blue horizon. It was still dark out—the deep sky mirrored the azure ocean, sparkling stars reflecting in the surf. It slapped against the cold shore, creating steady and relaxing sounds. Salty air invaded Katsuki’s ice-cold nose, and he could almost feel the grains of sand flowing roughly through his fingertips.

He was used to being out in the early morning. Most of his crimes took place when the world was asleep, when the sun had not yet entered the sky, and when the burning stars shimmered over the town. Nighttime was never lonely to him. Under the protection of the moon, Katsuki could be himself.

Katsuki parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt, keeping an eye on the boy in his passenger seat. Still asleep. He’s crashed hard. He reached over to the glovebox, pulling out the small sketchbook he kept stashed away. Katsuki got out of the car and pulled himself up to the roof, adjusting himself to sit crosslegged and facing the sea. The saline breeze made his hair flow in waves across his forehead. His thick leather jacket kept out the chill.

Twirling the pencil through his fingers, Katsuki opened the book to a blank page and began sketching. The wind made the paper a little unsteady, so he kept it pinned down with his wrist as he drew.

Stupid Deku, he lamented. I could be at home right now and sleeping. Instead, I’ve got to wait until he wakes up, and I can ask him where his goddamn house is. 

Katsuki had considered just shaking the boy awake, but despite not being one for empathy, he couldn’t help but feel a little bad at the thought. It annoyed him, because had it been anyone else, he wouldn’t have bat an eye. But it was different with Deku, and Katsuki didn’t like that one bit. For now, he was letting the boy sleep.

I can’t believe he knows my address, but I don’t know his. 

Katsuki clicked his tongue as he made a mistake; a stray line on the page ruined the scene he was trying to envision. He flipped over to another page, starting from scratch.

If the roles were reversed, he’d probably do some nerd hacking to find the house. I guess he… already did that. God, he’s such a creep… but I still want to ask how he did it. 

The image on the paper was coming together. In soft strokes, Katsuki had outlined his friends' figures and the campfire's structure. Now, he was ready to go over it with the details.

As the first cracks of dawn rose over the sapphire sea, Katsuki finished off the last couple of touches of the drawing. The orange light helped him see a little better. He sat up straight, looking at the page. It was a recreation of the previous night’s events – all six of them gathered around the fire, smiling and laughing together. Katsuki brought the book up to his eyes, scrutinising the sketch he had done of Deku. It was much more accurate than the first one he’d done– the one he’d drawn before he even knew his name. This time, he had included the scattered freckles across his face, the wide, doe-like look of his eyes and the relaxed smile on his face. It looked very similar to the face Katsuki knew all too well now.

 

“Kacchan, I didn’t know you could draw.”

Katsuki slammed the cover of his book shut and turned to Deku, who had somehow climbed up to the roof without him noticing. His bronze skin was glowing in the sun's light as it slowly rose out of the cerulean ocean and into the ochre and pink sky.

“You’re awake,” Katsuki said.

Deku smiled. “I am.” He tilted his head. “Can… Can I see what you were working on?”

“No. Get off the roof and back into your seat.” Katsuki swung his legs off the side and jumped onto the asphalt, yanking the door open. He tossed the sketchbook into the backseat, clicked his seatbelt on, and pulled his door shut. Deku followed, slightly less aggressively closing his own door.

“Where’s your house?” Katsuki demanded.

“My house? Oh- I live on-”

“You know what, just type it into the map.” Katsuki brought up his phone’s GPS and handed it to Deku. “I don’t want to follow your instructions. Your voice is annoying.”

Deku typed in his address, passing the phone back. Katsuki placed his phone in its holder so he could follow the map and started the engine.

 

“Kacchan, I don’t really remember what happened before I fell asleep,” Deku said as Katsuki pulled out of the lookout spot. He sounded tired from both lack of sleep and the eventful night prior. “I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble.”

Katsuki scoffed. “Don’t think so much of yourself. All you did was steal one of Sero’s shirts and pass out on his bed.”

Deku looked down and tugged at the fabric. “Oh, I remember now. I was wondering where this shirt came from. I think I spilled some drink on myself?”

“Close enough. So you don’t remember making a total ass out of yourself, huh?”

Deku panicked. “W-What? What’d I do?!” 

Katsuki grinned evilly. “Now that’s for me to know and you to never find out.”

Pouting, Deku leaned against the glass, staring at the golden sunrise that radiated over Hase. Katsuki had to put his guard up to block out the rays, but Deku was soaking all the light in.

 

In his peripheral vision, Katsuki saw Deku face him. “Um… I-I know you may not want to hear this, Kacchan–”

“Then don’t say it.”

Deku opened and closed his mouth a few times. He turned to the window again.

“I know you didn’t want me there, at that party. And I know you probably would have had much more fun if it was just you and your friends. But I had a really good time. So… thanks, I guess.”

“You’re right. I didn’t want you there.”

Deku sighed and leaned his elbow against the door, his hand cupping his cheek. Katsuki stopped at a red light and turned his head.

 

“But it was a lot more interesting because you were.”

 

Katsuki walked through his front door, ready to collapse into his bed. The foyer smelt like breakfast, but Katsuki was far too tired to even register the growling in his stomach. As he changed out of his shoes, he saw his mother in the kitchen blowing on a fresh cup of coffee, looking like she had just woken up.

“Well, well, look who decided to come home,” Mitsuki drawled. “Have a good night? You look full of life, Katsuki.”

“Hilarious.” Katsuki walked straight to the stairs. “Don’t wake me up unless there’s a fire. And even if there is, hesitate.” He slammed his door shut and fell onto his welcoming bed. He inhaled deeply, pricking up at the scent of fresh sheets. His mother must have done laundry while he was out. He was more than capable of doing it himself, thank you very much, but did appreciate the gesture.

Thanks, Mom. She really did care, even if she didn’t express it often through words. Like her son, Mitsuki Bakugou communicated more through actions. Katsuki cared for her equally, despite being a hundred times worse at showing his love. Before shutting his eyes, he checked his phone for the time. 6:23. He was going to sleep for a long time.

Right as he put his phone down, it buzzed with a notification. Out of habit, Katsuki clicked on it, blinking at the bright screen. The words blurred into one before he focused his half-lidded eyes and read the message.

 

[DEKU] - 6:23

Thank you for taking me home, Kacchan. And thank you for the wonderful time (ᵔ◡ᵔ)

Notes:

im coming out as a hashtag baskusquad truther im obsessed with them

i love talking with you guys, please let me know if you're enjoying the fic, i'd love to hear your thoughts!!

Chapter 5: An Agreement

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=b34adf6b649e4896

i want to give a quick warning that this chapter has a little bit of coercion from katsuki towards deku in their first scene, nothing too explicit but if that makes you uncomfortable ill give a little heads up here <3 this chapter is 12.5k words please enjoy :)

“So, how’s sweet little Deku?” Mina asked, bumping her hip into Katsuki’s side.

“He is neither of those two things,” he said, exasperated. “He’s alive, if you want to hear that.”

“So you didn’t stick to your word of murdering him!” she winked. “Sero told me that’s what you said.” Katsuki narrowed his eyes. Despite the blatant hypocrisy, he felt uncomfortable discussing the idea of killing Deku, even as a joke. No matter how much the nerd annoyed him, actually taking his life now would be an act of undisputable evil, and it made Katsuki sick to consider. So he avoided answering and kept his eyes locked on the footpath.

“I’m glad you made a new friend, Katsuki! You two were so fun to watch Friday night!” Mina continued to talk, not paying attention to Katsuki’s avoidance. “He got sooo drunk. But I wish I could’ve been awake to see you taking care of him!” She cooed, sticking out her lips into a kiss. “So cute… the thought of you carrying him to your car, driving him home in the early hours, tucking him into his bed–”

Katsuki pulled her ear. “Is that what those bastards told you? First of all, Kirishima carried him into my goddamn car, not me, and I didn’t even go into his house, and I wasn’t going to let you idiots corrupt another underclassman into becoming a fucking alcoholic–”

“Ow, oww, stop!” she whined. Katsuki let go of her, and she frowned. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Oh, get over it.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I was barely touching you.” Mina whipped out her handheld mirror and peered at her reflection.

“Ouch…I think I’m gonna have to chop this ear off.” She paused. “Wait, isn’t that your thing, Van Gogh?” Giggling, she poked him in the arm. “Get it? Get it? Because you paint!”

“I will cut off my ear if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Katsuki muttered. Mina laughed and skipped ahead of him, running up the driveway of Kirishima’s house and knocking on the door.

 

Most days, Katsuki drove to school, but when he’d woken up that morning, he was low on gas, and his parents weren’t in town to loan him any money. So Katsuki walked over to the Ashido household a few streets over and joined the cheery girl on her morning commute, which included picking up other members of their friend group.

Kirishima answered the door, dressed in all but his school blazer, so Katsuki leaned against the mailbox as he waited for him to be ready. Mina chatted away with his mother, Akane Kirishima. She was a kind but firm woman who always welcomed her son’s friends into her home with open arms. However, Katsuki always felt uneasy around her since she was a high-ranking police officer and a direct opposition to his long line of crimes. She made eye contact with him, and he responded with a terse wave.

“Alright, let’s go!” Kirishima kissed his mother on the cheek and joined Katsuki and Mina.

“Okie dokie, Denki is driving Kyoka to school, so the last person for us to get is Hanta!” Mina looped her arms through the two boys on either side of her.

Katsuki shrugged his arm away. “He lives like 15 minutes from here.”

“Whoa, really?” Mina feigned shock. “I totally forgot where one of my childhood friends lives! Thanks for reminding me, Kacchan!”

“I meant– ” Katsuki gritted his teeth at Deku’s nickname coming from her mouth. “-his house is a total detour, and I’d rather be at school than listen to you yap all the way to his place.”

“Well, I guess you can go off on your own! We’re going to go hang out with our friend!” Mina grabbed Kirishima’s hand and started running. Katsuki groaned and ran after them, begrudgingly heading towards Sero's neighbourhood.

 

Sero answered the door in his pyjamas, so after a few shouts from Katsuki, who started laying into him for being so irresponsible, he locked himself in his room and began getting changed. The three others sat on his couch, scrolling through their phones. The living room had returned to normal over the weekend—it was no longer the mess it had been on Friday night. The furniture had returned to where it belonged, and the carpet was freshly vacuumed.

 

Katsuki had a few messages from unknown numbers; no doubt Kaminari’s meddling was involved. He wasn’t sure how many times he had to tell the devilish boy that he had no interest in dating, and blocking so many contacts was time-consuming.

Katsuki felt different from his classmates for many reasons. Ignoring the enormous, illegal, bloody elephant in the room, Katsuki also thought he was behind on many teenage experiences that his friends had already gone through and enjoyed. Sure, he attended parties and witnessed all the crazy things that could happen there, but he never felt any urge to engage in it himself. Katsuki wasn’t interested in hooking up, or romance, or any sort of intimacy at all for that matter. Maybe it was because, deep down, he knew that he couldn’t hide the dark part of his life forever. If he ever got close to anyone, they would eventually discover the deadly secret he was hiding, and they would run away screaming. They’d know what Katsuki really was underneath his mask: a monster. So, it was easier just to ignore that part of life. Not that it was challenging. No one Katsuki had met had lit that spark of attraction in him. It was better not to get distracted by frivolous things like relationships. It kept him focused on more important things.

 

Sero finally emerged from his room, backpack hanging off his shoulder and clutching a small plastic bag. He tossed it to Katsuki, who flinched.

“The hell is this?” Katsuki said, annoyed.

“It’s Midoriya’s clothes that I washed,” he replied. “Tell him he can keep the shirt; I don’t need it.”

Katsuki stood up and scowled. “I’m not a fucking messenger pigeon. You washed them, you give them back.”

“I don’t have any periods where I run into his class,” Sero said. “You have the same lunch, though, right?”

He knew the boy was correct, and that pissed him off. Grumbling, Katsuki unzipped his bag and shoved the clothes to the bottom.

“I ironed them too,” Sero added. Katsuki’s eye twitched at the tone in his voice. He wanted to rip the vocal chords right out of his throat. Katsuki scoffed bitterly.

“Oh, really? Did you give them a kiss as well? Spray some of that shitty-smelling cologne on them? Is there a handwritten note in here professing how much you love this stupid fucking nerd?”

Sighing, Kirishima put his phone down. “Dude, calm down.” That fucking tone again. It was driving him up the wall. He hated being spoken to like he was a misbehaving animal, and he hated being told what to do, full stop. So he spun around and shot daggers at Kirishima, too.

“Shut the hell up,” Katsuki hissed. “You’re just sticking up for him because he drooled all over you at the fire.”

Kirishima turned red. “That’s not-”

“Boys, stop fighting.” Mina got up from the armchair she’d been lying on. “It’s too early for your bullshit. Let’s get going so we’re not late!”

Ignoring Sero’s glare into his back, Katsuki stood up and headed to the door. The anger was subsiding, and he suddenly felt very stupid. His outburst was very much an overreaction. Katsuki wasn’t entirely sure why he had snapped at his friends over something so unimportant. But he wasn’t about to apologise, either. That just wasn’t something he did. So Katsuki walked silently with his friends to school, pushing down his feelings of accountability.

Katsuki didn’t see Deku for the entire day. He had been keeping an eye out for his messy green hair in the halls, but he had evaded him. Is he avoiding me? Katsuki didn’t like that he was the one seeking out Deku, but he had something to tell him. It wasn’t just that he had to return his clothes. He knew why he had been so irritable to Sero and Kirishima that morning.

The compulsion to kill was back.

 

When Katsuki realised, he became furious with himself. It had only been a week since his last murder, the one he had caught Deku spying on. And that one had a short cooldown, too. He was frustrated that he wasn’t able to control himself for longer. For the last four years, Katsuki had kept himself in a routine, and even though the exact dates fluctuated, most of the time, there was at least a month gap between his attacks. This was crucial to ensure that the murders couldn’t be linked, and now that the time between kills was shortened, Katsuki had to be extremely careful not to get caught.

Katsuki clenched his jaw when he thought of Deku. It was too much of a coincidence that the impulses had become more common after they made contact. Deku wasn’t exactly egging him on, but the fact that he was so inexplicably understanding and didn’t discourage Katsuki was flooding his mind with confusion. Shutting him out wasn’t an option, though. He had a little more trust that Deku wasn’t going to spill his secret outright, but that seed of suspicion still grew inside him. However, completely cutting contact would be a bad idea. Deku had proven that he was a persistent bastard, and being ignored by Katsuki might motivate him to try and do something stupid to get his attention. It could lead to a domino effect that exposed Katsuki, so he had to suck it up and involve Deku in his plans.

 

When he arrived at his parents' store, he walked into the staff room, pulled out his phone, and typed a message to Deku.

 

[YOU] - 15:03

nerd

 

come over to my house at around 8:30

 

i’m assuming you don’t need me to send the address.

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

At 8, Katsuki locked the door of the thrift store and began his walk home. He checked his phone, which had many frantic messages from Deku that he’d ignored all shift.

 

[DEKU] - 15:05

You want me to come to your place? Why?

 

15:11

Kacchan??

 

15:20

Are my messages going through?

 

16:36

Can you tell me why you need to talk to me?

 

18:01

Please answer! I’m a little worried…

 

18:57

OK, I’ll come over, but you better tell me what it’s about right away! ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞ

Katsuki put his headphones on and blasted the music into his ears. It was going to be a difficult chat, especially since Deku was so stubborn in his idolisation of Katsuki’s crimes. He had some things he had to set straight with the boy. Ever since the night of the party, Katsuki had started to understand Deku’s motivations a little. 

 

I’m not holding anything over him. There’s nothing he’s told me I want to use against him.

Deku didn’t want to use the knowledge that Katsuki was a criminal to his advantage. He had no intentions of blackmail.

 

He’s very driven in what he does. He doesn’t do things half-baked. I think that’s very admirable. And he’s very sure of himself, too. He knows exactly who he is. I like that about him.

Deku respected Katsuki’s actions, and he liked that he knew precisely why Katsuki did what he did.

 

It’s so hard to find people who are also devoted to such a strange topic. I’d consider myself lucky to find someone in my life who is as intrigued by raspberries as I am.

Deku and Katsuki were two rare people who were unbothered by the subject of murder. There was no one the other could discuss it with. Most sane people would shudder at the thought of watching someone harm another, but Deku had proven he was far from rational. Maybe that would work out in his favour. He began to think of what he’d say to the boy when he showed up at his house. There was one thing Katsuki would have to do to make sure Deku was 100% on board with what he was going to propose.

Katsuki finally arrived at his empty home and walked upstairs. His parents were away again, so he’d have it to himself for a few days. He changed out of his work shirt and threw on a black tank top. Despite winter being just around the corner, Katsuki’s body tended to overheat at the slightest temperature rise, so a lot of his wardrobe was t-shirts and tank tops. There was a pile of clothes on his floor that he’d been ignoring for a few days. He picked a pair of pants out from the heap and pulled them on, collecting the other clothes and folding them away. Then, he started fixing his sheets, smoothing them out over his bed. Katsuki was leaning over to retrieve a fallen pillow when he paused.

What the fuck? Am I cleaning up my room? For DEKU?!

 

Katsuki stripped the bed of its blankets until it was bare, then pushed the pillows off onto the floor. Once the bed was empty, he sloppily threw the blankets over it, letting half hang off the mattress and the other half clump up at the headboard. The pillows were tossed on top haphazardly, and Katsuki stood up. The bed was an eyesore.

There. It looks terrible now.

 

Downstairs, Katsuki heard a knock at the door and jumped at the sudden noise. Taking a breath, he hurried downstairs to meet Deku. When he opened the door, he was greeted with cheerful green eyes. Deku was still in his uniform but had thrown a white hoodie over his blazer. His phone was in his hand, the music app open on the screen.

“Kacchan!”

Keeping quiet, Katsuki let Deku into the house, shutting the door gently behind him. Deku took a few steps, spinning around to get a proper look at the place.

“Wow, your house looks really lovely today, Ka–”

Katsuki yanked Deku’s phone out of his hands and tossed it across the room. It bounced onto the sofa. He then firmly grabbed Deku’s arms, eliciting a short yelp from the younger boy’s mouth. He slammed him into the wall, leaning in close to his face. Deku squirmed under his fierce gaze, pupils flickering from Katsuki’s ruby eyes to the scowl on his lips.

“Kacchan-”

“I’ve got to know,” Katsuki growled. “This is your last fucking chance to tell me the truth, so don’t you dare lie.” He reached down to grip one of Deku’s wrists, feeling his heartbeat against his veins.

“I-I–”

“Are you doin’ this because you’re some sort of informant?” Katsuki demanded. “Are you a cop or undercover or something?”

Deku shook his head violently. “N-No! I’m not, I swear! K-Kacchan, where is this coming from? I’ve told you plenty of times that I don’t plan on ever reporting you!”

“As if I could trust hollow words coming from you.” He tightened his grip on Deku’s wrist and shoulder, which caused him to whine. The speed of his pulse was rapidly increasing.

“Ah, ow… Kacchan, that really hurts–”

“Shut it,” he ordered. “You swear on your life you’re not conspiring against me? Because if I find out you are, it’s not going to be pretty.”

“Y-Yes! I'm just a regular-Ouch-! Yes, Kacchan, I promise! I swear to you, I have no intentions of telling anyone about what you’ve done!” Tears started to form in the corner of his squinted eyes, but Katsuki did not loosen his hold. Instead, he started roughly running his hands over Deku’s trembling arms, feeling for a wire.

He gasped. “W-What are you doing?”

 

There were too many layers of clothing. The jacket, blazer and shirt kept Katsuki from feeling anything on Deku’s skin. He let go of Deku’s arms and took a small step back.

“Take off your blazer and jacket.”

Deku froze, still shaking. A glint of trepidation appeared in his iris. He massaged his wrist as his misty tears began to spill down his face. “H-Huh?”

“I’m checking for a wire,” Katsuki said. “I have to be certain. If you’ve got no bad intentions, you should be fine showing me, right?”

Katsuki knew how manipulative his words were, but he had to guarantee the boy wasn’t recording anything. No matter how much he tried to rationalise Deku’s admiration, the gnawing feeling of doubt clouded his judgement, and he had to reassure Deku’s loyalty through actions, not words. If he was going through with what he had planned, he had to crush any sentiments of unease when it came to Deku’s trust.

Shyly, Deku unzipped his white hoodie, letting it fall onto the floor beside him. Following it was the grey blazer, which he at least tried to fold up before dropping it. Now, he was just in his white button-up shirt. The pitifully knotted tie was almost the same shade of red as Deku’s face.

Katsuki tapped his foot. “Come on, nerd. Last one.”

Deku gripped his elbows. “I- um… I’m just a little… nervous…”

Katsuki’s boisterous laughter echoed around the room. “Oh, are you now? You seemed perfectly happy to strip off at the party on Friday.” Deku bit the inside of his cheek, and Katsuki scoffed. “You did it at the firepit for that bitch Kaminari, but you can’t do it here for me?”

With quivering hands, Deku undid the buttons of his shirt and pulled it apart, showing Katsuki his bare chest. It was littered with patterns of dark freckles and a few small scars similar to the ones on his arms. He was definitely not as well built as Katsuki, but the years of athleticism had given his body a strong and lean look. Deku pulled the shirt and tie off and tucked it under his arm.

“Is- Is this good?” he muttered. Katsuki cringed at the sound of his voice cracking. God, I’m such a fucking scumbag.

Katsuki circled Deku like an apex predator, examining every inch of his skin, but came out empty. In his mind, that was a massive tick off the list he planned to complete. A major hurdle had been cleared, and Katsuki made the decision to invest in Deku’s trust. He didn’t have any reason to doubt him anymore.

Katsuki picked up the discarded clothes and tossed them into Deku’s arms. He turned away to give him some privacy.

“You’re fine now. Put your shirt back on.”

 

Katsuki heard the ruffle of clothes being pulled on, and after a minute, he faced Deku again. At the sight of his gloomy face, he felt a pang of guilt. He wanted to apologise for overstepping boundaries, but just like the morning, no remorseful words could come out of his mouth. So, instead, he crossed his arms, looming over the shorter boy.

“I had to do that.” He was justifying it to himself more than he was to Deku. “Because I want to do something tonight that requires you to be fully on board.”

Green eyes looked up; his cheeks still flushed pink. Their height difference made Deku look even smaller.

“Deku. I… trust you now. Don’t make me regret it.”

He seemed to stand up straighter at that. His melancholic mood faded, and he smiled.

“I’m glad to hear it, Kacchan.”

Deku's acceptance that Katsuki had violated his personal space made him mad. He wanted the boy to push back, get angry, or at least demand an apology. But instead, he just stood still, patiently waiting for the next sentence. Katsuki walked over to the kitchen and leaned against the counter. “We’re going to talk. My parents aren’t here and won’t be back until later in the week, so we can say whatever. No talk of raspberries, got it?”

Deku giggled, his sweet demeanour returning. “Gotcha.”

 

Katsuki hoisted himself up onto the counter, letting his legs swing off the side. “I’ve got a few things to ask. Firstly, I want to know why you find murder fascinating and how you got so obsessed with it.”

Deku gulped. “I– Well, that’s a hard thing to place. I’ve always liked criminality. Even when I was a kid, I thought it was cool.” He fidgeted with his fingers, picking at his nails. “It-It’s kind of dumb, but my dad used to put on this old cop show every night—super 80s vibes. I definitely shouldn’t have watched it at the age I was, but I found it really engaging. I liked how they pieced together scenes and analysed the perpetrators, even if they knew nothing about their appearance. Just using clues from the scene and studying their decisions when committing crimes to build a profile.”

Katsuki huffed. “So you’re obsessed with murder because you used to watch a cop show when you were a kid?”

“No– that’s not the only thing,” Deku said. “When I got older, I found other ways to engage with people who found homicide as interesting as I did. You know, like, the true crime scene? I really like that.”

“Oh, Christ.” Katsuki scoffed, running his hand from the nape of his neck to his forehead, messing up the spikes of his sand-blond hair. “You realise that what I do is very different to listening to some fucker ramble about a closed case for an hour?”

“Yes, obviously,” Deku urged. “But that’s how I ended up on the forum. There’s only so much I can get out of podcasts and interviews. I wanted to know exactly what murderers thought without having information omitted for stuff like legality.”

Katsuki hopped off the counter. “Well, looks like you got what you wanted. Deal with your shitty boss, and you get your perfect case study first-hand.” He put his hands on his chest. “Me.”

Deku rubbed his arm. “I- I hope I don’t come off like that. I don’t want to try to stop you from doing anything, especially since I know that killing is something you feel you have to do. I just- When there’s something I don’t know enough about, I can't stop the urge to study it more and learn everything there is to know.”

“Nerd.”

Deku frowned. “Kacchan.”

He sighed and lay down on the sofa. Katsuki could feel the phone he’d tossed slip between a cushion, but he ignored it. Deku crossed his legs and lowered himself to sit on the fancy purple rug.

 

“So, what you said that night–”

“It’s all true,” Deku insisted. “I do consider myself lucky to have found someone to discuss the subject with.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself.” Katsuki faced the ceiling. “If we’re going to do this, you need to understand that I don't commit any more murder that is necessary. It’s not like I’m out every night stabbing people. I don't want to be consumed by this. I don’t want to become… a monster.”

Deku nodded. “Oh, that is so interesting. I get it, Kacchan; don't worry. Of course, I want you to keep it under control, so if it's just once every few months that I get to hear about it, that's fine with me. I mean, you’re kind of my hero, as silly as it sounds.”

Katsuki sat up and turned to Deku with narrowed eyes.

“You still think I’m doing this out of some sort of justice. I’m not.”

“No, no, I understand. It’s involuntary for you. You told me this already.”

“Then why would you think I’m a hero for killing the guy who treated you like shit? I didn’t do it because he hurt you.”

The ticking of the clock rang through the room as Deku collected his thoughts. Katsuki could see his mouth moving silently, keeping up his muttering habit despite being quiet. Eventually, he looked up, pinching his lip between his fingers.

 

“Because choosing people who deserve to die is your way of protecting those who deserve to live, right? If you really didn’t care and just wanted to fulfil the compulsion, you wouldn’t use that site to find your victims.”

Katsuki shook his head. “It’s only because they’re the easiest targets, Deku.”

“Some part of you knows that certain people deserve to live on this earth less than others.” Deku held up his index finger. “Take the conman you killed. How many of the trusting people who lost money to him ended up in debt and unable to pay for basic utilities like water and light? How many of them had life-threatening conditions but had to forgo treatment because they couldn't afford it? How many of them starved? How many of them lost their jobs? How many of them took their own lives?”

“So what if they did terrible things?” Katsuki objected. “I’m unfairly playing judge, jury and executioner. It’s not right for a single person to think they’re some paragon of morality. Don’t hide what I’ve done under a veil of righteousness, Deku. I murder people, and I do it for selfish reasons.”

“I don’t care.”

Katsuki blinked. “You don't care… that I’m killing people?”

“I- I don’t care that you think you’re selfish,” Deku stammered, correcting himself. Katsuki noticed that he had avoided the question and frowned. “I think you’re doing a good thing, Kacchan, even if it’s for your own gain.”

Katsuki grabbed Deku’s wrist, less forcefully than he had earlier. “Stop lying to me.”

“Wh- I thought you said you trusted me! I-I’m not lying, I swear!” Deku cried. 

“Then you’re insane. Stop pretending you’re ok with this to get on my good side.”

“I’ve never pretended around you! Even before we met, and you were just a rumour on the forum…I’ve always thought you were amazing. Someone who was taking matters into their own hands. I know that’s not the whole reason now, but I still believe you’re incredible, Kacchan.”

Katsuki laughed dryly. “If you really believe that, you don’t know a thing about me.”

“Then tell me more about you.”

 

Katsuki freed his wrist. “Nice try, nerd. I’m not telling you anything about myself. You already know too much.”

“So you can tell me that you’re a serial killer, but you can’t tell me any of your hobbies?”

“Exactly.”

Deku threw his head back. “Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

Deku sighed, looking off to the side. “Well… I know you’re an artist.”

The thin blond hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Katsuki froze, thinking he was still referring to his murders. “The fuck?”

Timidly, Deku scratched his jaw. “Um- the– the book you had? You were drawing in it, right?”

Oh, right. The normal thing. Katsuki sighed. “Yeah.”

“See, that’s great! You’re creative, and you’re talented, and you’re smart too-”

“Alright, enough dick sucking,” Katsuki groaned. “I don’t need your praise.”

Deku scrunched up his nose at the crass wording, but quickly relaxed into a curious smile. “So, do you only draw in that book?”

 

As much as he wanted to shut down and close off any discussions of his personal life, Katsuki knew that without a straight answer, Deku would just pester him more and more. There wasn’t much use hiding it now, anyway. 

“No. I paint, too. I’ll show you.” He stood up, Deku following closely behind. Katsuki opened the door to the art studio and flicked on the light, revealing a cacophony of colour. Finished and unfinished paintings hung on the wall and stood on the easels around the room. Hues of blues to pinks to oranges to blacks created a gallery of striking artworks that Katsuki had slaved over for hours. A giant protective sheet was laid out on the floor, which had been stained by hundreds of spills. There was a sink with half a dozen empty jars, home to all the paintbrushes that were Katsuki’s bread and butter. Deku was stunned into silence as he spun around the centre of the room, finding each piece that Katsuki had created.

“Holy…” Deku trailed off. There were no words to describe his awe. Katsuki stood in the doorway, proudly watching the boy admire his creations.

“Pretty sweet, right?” he grinned.

“Yeah!’ Deku smiled widely, picking up a canvas from the floor and examining it closely. Under his breath, he noted all the strokes and mixes of colour Katsuki had used. “Kacchan, you’re amazing! How did you get started with art?” 

“My parents are artists, too,” he started, fixing up a frame on the wall that had tilted a little. “But I never gave a shit about clothes, so when they tried to get me interested, I just drew whatever the fuck I wanted over their blueprints.”

Deku chuckled apprehensively. “You must’ve gotten in trouble for that.”

“Oh yeah. But they were also smart enough to realise that it was something I genuinely enjoyed doing. So they gave me my own paper, and I’ve just never stopped.”

“That’s incredible.”

Katsuki stepped outside the studio and turned to the stairs. “Follow me.” He heard Deku's soft footsteps as he entered his room and opened his closet all the way. Next to the clothes that hung on coat hangers was a cabinet filled to the brim with sketchbooks and folders stuffed with stray paper that barely fit on the shelves.

“Oh, wow.” Deku ran his finger across the spines of the books. “Is that all the art you’ve made?”

“Yup. 14 years worth of it.”

“Can I see some?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, whaaaat?” Deku moaned. “Why?”

“Because.” Katsuki put his hands on his hips and smirked. “What I draw stays between me and God.”

Deku groaned and looked starry-eyed at the shelves of art. “Man…”

Katsuki pulled out his phone and checked the time. Still enough to get the job done. “OK, let’s get down to business now.” He looked up. “I’ll… uh… go get your phone. Don’t touch my shit.” Katsuki heard mutters of ‘ what could he possibly be drawing?’ as he left the room.

 

Deku’s phone was still jammed down the side of a cushion on the sofa. Katsuki pulled it out and snuck a peak at his screen. His background was a picture of him and a woman hugging tightly in a field of pink flowers. She had the same green hair as him, so Katsuki assumed it was his mother. He inherited her wide smile, but she was much shorter than him. Katsuki shoved the phone into his pocket and ran upstairs.

Deku was leaning against the wall, cheeks glowing red. Katsuki tossed him his phone.

“What are you blushing at, loser?”

Deku pointed at the disorganised bed. “Kacchan– Was someone… here before me?”

Katsuki furrowed his brow. “Hah?”

“W-Well, your bed is all messy, and last time I was here, it was a lot neater. A-And I know you’re really popular, so I’m just assuming… maybe a girl–”

“NO.” Katsuki’s spiteful ruining of his bed was coming off very differently to Deku. “Christ. No one was here. Get that thought outta your dumb head.”

Deku shrank at Katsuki’s sharp tongue, but his embarrassed expression morphed into one more closely resembling relief. “O-Okay.”

Katsuki sat on his bed and invited Deku to sit on the rolling chair slotted under his desk. Deku quickly checked his phone and then met Katsuki’s eyes.

“So, you still haven't actually told me what I’m doing here,” he began. “Did you really only invite me over to talk?”

“No.” Katsuki interlocked his fingers. “I… got the impulse today at school.”

Deku’s eyes widened. “But– Last time was–”

“I know.” He clenched his jaw. “It was only a week ago. It’s pissing me off because I can usually keep it in check for longer. I don’t know what’s going on with me. But I can’t ignore it. So… I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me tonight. To watch.”

Deku smiled ear to ear, his eyes squinting with joy. “A-Are you serious?!”

“I don’t want you sneaking around my back,” Katsuki said. “I might as well drag you out there myself so I can keep an eye on you. And I know you want to ask stupid questions, so I’ll let you do that, too.”

“I- That would be great!” If it were acceptable, Katsuki believed Deku would have jumped out of his seat. He was happier than Katsuki had ever seen him, which only cemented his integrity. Decidedly, there was no need to check if he was undercover now. No one can fake being this excited over murder. He is 100% genuine. And that is fucking terrifying.

 

“I’ll drive you home when we’re done. Do your mom and dad know where you are?” Katsuki asked. Deku’s face suddenly fell, and Katsuki felt a pinch of guilt.

“My- My mom just thinks I’m with a friend. I didn’t mention you. She’s fine with me going out as long as I update her. Um– my dad’s dead.”

“Oh.” Katsuki put his hand over his mouth. “My bad.”

“It’s alright. I don’t miss him.” Deku’s smile returned. “So, show me how you pick someone out! But wait, don’t you usually scope out the areas during the day before you go?”

Katsuki hopped off the bed and walked over to the desk, leaning over as he opened his laptop. “Most of the time, I do. But there are some places in the slums I know really well. I’ve memorised the blind spots of certain streets, so we can just target someone there.” He brought up the site, and Deku moved closer to the screen. He was so close to Katsuki’s face that if he moved even slightly, their cheeks would be touching. But Deku was unaware of their proximity– his eyes were focused on the computer, and he scoured the front page.

“Hmm… I don’t think these are from Hase.” He stood up from the chair. “Here, it’s your seat, you sit.”

Not objecting, Katsuki swapped spots with Deku and adjusted the height. He scrolled through the posts, keeping an eye out for anything that piqued his interest.

“Wait.” Deku suddenly pointed at the screen, leaving a fingerprint on the surface. “That one.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “Don’t touch, nerd.” He began reading the post, ignoring Deku repeating the words under his breath beside him.

 

Hideaki Fujita. Age: 34

 

Found guilty of kidnapping his 6-year-old daughter and holding her hostage in his home for four months while a search party desperately looked for her. Kept her status a secret from authorities until he was offered cash, to which he immediately told them her location. The girl was recovered alive with no evidence of assault but was left deeply traumatised. Fujita was given a 2-year sentence, which was lower than he was initially thought to receive, but it was reduced due to a familial loophole. Driven out to the eastern slums of Hase after he was released.

 

“Does that work?” Deku asked. Katsuki tapped his fingers on the desk.

“Yeah. The east side is the part I know the best.” He opened another tab and looked up the man’s name, reading a more thorough account of the events that led to his arrest.

“Thank goodness that poor girl was found alive,” Deku whispered as Katsuki scrolled through the article. Included in the text was a photo that dated a recent sighting of Fujita, and Katsuki smiled a little.

“Alright. I know where that is. Should be pretty easy.” And his investigation’s long over, so I won’t be making the same mistake as I did with Deku’s boss. He moved the cursor to bookmark the post, but Deku put his hand on Katsuki’s forearm.

“Don’t do that.”

Katsuki paused, frowning at the contact, but then realised that Deku was trying to help.

“Oh yeah. That’s how you found me, isn’t it?”

Deku sheepishly removed his hand and turned away in embarrassment. “Uh- y-yes. It can give your location away. Have you been doing that all these years?”

It was Katsuki’s turn to be embarrassed. “Yes…”

Deku made a sound that sounded like a snort. “How has no one tracked you down yet.”

“Hey!” Katsuki gave him a shove, and Deku cried out as he fell backwards onto the carpet. “I was doing fine on my own before your stalking ass showed up.”

Deku rubbed his back where he landed. “Well, Kacchan, you should consider yourself lucky it was me who found you and not a police officer or something.”

“We both know the cops don’t have the time or manpower to investigate these murders,” Katsuki muttered. He pushed out from the desk and opened one of his drawers. “Alright, we’ll leave at around 1am.” Katsuki pawned through the clothes, pulling out a spare outfit for Deku. His undercover wear was stashed under his bed, ready to go, but he had to dress Deku in dark attire. 

 

Katsuki’s clothes were a little big on Deku, but together, they managed to find enough to cover his skin and hide his identity. It was getting late, but there were still a few more hours until they were ready to leave. Katsuki suggested getting some food, so both boys walked to the kitchen to find something to eat.

“I hope you’re not picky, Deku.” Katsuki searched through his pantry. There were a lot of instant ramen cups, and he wasn’t that hungry, so he picked one up and tore off the lid.

“I’m not super hungry,” Deku said. “I don’t have to eat anything.”

“Our cover isn’t going to be blown because your stomach growls too loud,” Katsuki deadpanned. He raised the ramen cups. “You want one of these?”

Deku sighed. “Alright. But, um, please don’t add the seasoning.”

“Seriously?” Katsuki laughed cruelly. “You’re such a little bitch. Can’t stand spices, but you’re about to go watch me slit a bastard’s throat.”

Deku shuddered. “They are two completely different contexts, Kacchan!”

“Sure.” He slammed the microwave shut and punched in the time. Deku was searching through the drawers for chopsticks.

“What are we gonna do while we wait?” Deku asked. “It’s gonna be a few hours. Maybe we could watch a movie?”

“Don’t suggest things like that,” Katsuki snapped. “We’re still not friends.”

His face dropped. “Right.”

That pinch of guilt wormed its way into Katsuki’s stomach again. He didn’t like that he felt bad for upsetting Deku. It wasn’t a lie. They weren’t friends. Their relationship was complicated and shifting very quickly, and it was too soon to put any sort of label on it. But seeing Deku be disheartened by his words was depressing. Katsuki was used to throwing out insults at his friends and having them bounce back, but Deku was different. So, instead of brushing it off, Katsuki stepped forward and stood beside him, leaning over the counter.

 

“Why didn’t I see you at school?”

Deku continued to stare at the marble. “I had things to do at lunch.”

“Like what?”

He swallowed, hands clenching the edge of the counter. “Do you really want to know? Or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

Katsuki opened his mouth, closed it, then tilted his head so he was in Deku’s peripherals. “I want to know, Deku.”

Deku glanced at Katsuki quickly. “I was… studying with some people out in the library. Some first years that needed help with math.”

Katsuki scoffed. “Really, just more nerd shit? Colour me shocked.”

“...Did you think I was avoiding you?” Despite Katsuki’s harsh words, Deku’s voice sounded touched.

He paused. “I just thought it was weird that I didn’t see you once.” Katsuki’s head shot up. “Oh, yeah. I was supposed to give something to you.”

“Wh- For me?” Katsuki walked over to the front door, where he’d discarded his backpack when he got home. He reached into the back pocket and pulled out the plastic bag that held Deku's clothes. Deku outstretched his hands and took the bag from him.

“What is it? Oh–” He unfolded his blue hoodie, which had a faint scent of softener lingering. Deku turned to Katsuki and smiled warmly. “Thank you, Kacchan. That was nice of you to  wash it for me.”

Katsuki frowned for a split second. He was about to correct Deku, tell him that it was Sero who’d cleaned his clothes and not him. But for whatever reason, the sight of Deku’s upturned lips and happy expression made him keep his mouth shut.

 

The microwave eventually beeped, and Katsuki prepared the ramen cups. He took the seasoning that should have been added to Deku’s broth and poured it on top of his own.

“You like it spicy, Kacchan?” Deku asked as he blew on his food.

Katsuki snickered. “Like most things.” He picked up the cup and walked over to one of the large wooden bookshelves that lined the living room walls, slurping a long noodle into his mouth. “Hmm…”

“What are you looking for?” Deku followed, standing a couple steps behind him.

“Something to do.” The shelves were mostly filled with old books and scrapbooking paper, but Katsuki found what he was looking for underneath a photo album. He picked up a dusty box, blowing the lint into Deku’s face. The boy coughed and waved the cloud away, peering at the name printed on the front.

“Scrabble?” Deku read. Katsuki shrugged.

“What? It’s something to pass the time. And you’ll have a clear advantage, seeing as you’re a nerd.”

“I didn't think you’d be into board games, Kacchan.”

“What the hell gave you that idea?”

Deku squeezed his lower lip. “Well–”

“Don’t answer that. So, do you wanna play or not?”

Deku grinned. “Sounds fun. I’m up to the challenge.”

Katsuki laughed curtly. “Oh, you’re so dead.”

 

After tossing their empty cups in the bin, Katsuki and Deku returned upstairs and lay sprawled out on the carpet, tiles of letters spilling out of the drawstring bag. Once the board was set up and the game began, the two boys had gotten fiercely competitive. They had been going back and forth, already getting into a few heated debates on which words counted and which would be disqualified.

“Why can’t I put down the word china?” Deku had protested.

“Because it’s a proper noun, you moron,” Katsuki argued back. “Do you even know the basic rules of this game?”

“No, I'm not talking about the country; I’m using it in its descriptive form! Like to do with plates!”

“Oh sure, of course the nerd knows all the loopholes!”

“Do you consider fundamental language a loophole?”

 

Their banter continued as each one tried to top the other's attempt. As the game went on, Deku and Katsuki found they were neck and neck, with very few places left to add new words. Eventually, they each only had enough tiles left for a single turn. It was Katsuki’s go, and he was twisting a letter between his fingers. Deku sighed, exaggerating his impatience.

“Any day now, Kacchan,” Deku teased.

“Shut the hell up, idiot, I’m thinking.” He scanned the words, searching for an opening. Katsuki glanced between his own tiles and those on the board for inspiration. Suddenly, he was hit with a brainwave. He picked up four tiles, placing them down delicately.

“‘Crypt’?” Deku said. He gasped. “Oh, come on, you got two triple tiles?”

“Yep, read it and weep, Deku.” Katsuki lay back down, smiling triumphantly. “You’re the math whiz, aren’t you? Why don’t you add those up for me?”

Deku groaned and picked up the notepad that they were using to track their scores. “Ugh… twelve times three to the power of two is… 108. So now your score is 361.”

Katsuki cupped his ear. “And please enlighten me on your score, Deku?”

Deku grumbled as he held the notepad over his mouth. “246.”

Katsuki cackled. “You’re so fucked. I’ve got this in the bag. Take your last turn, dork.”

Deku glanced at the collection of tiles he held. It wasn’t looking good. He mainly had low-scoring letters, and most of them were too rare to use. Katsuki was whistling a nonchalant tune as Deku muttered his options to himself. 

 

Then, the word he needed to win appeared in front of him. Deku hid his excitement as he rearranged his tiles. Katsuki put his hand over his mouth and pretended to yawn.

“You know, you can always just forfeit here. I won’t hold it against you,” he taunted. Deku glowered at him through his thick hair. Using the ‘R’ in the last word, he placed his letters on the board, letting Katsuki read them while he picked up the notepad and pencil.

“‘Quixotry’?” Katsuki read. “That’s not a real fucking word–”

“Quixotry –,” Deku defined. “An eccentric and visionary idea, notion or act. The letters add up to 27, times that by three by using that triple word score tile.” Katsuki was speechless as Deku scribbled down the equations. “That gives me 81, which I then add another 50 points to since I used every letter I had. So, my final score is 131. Add that to 246, and it looks like I’m the winner with 377 points!”

 

Katsuki fell back, letting his head hit the floor. “Goddamnit. I hate that I fucking lost to you. ”

“You’re the one who said a nerd would have an advantage.” Deku suddenly covered his mouth as he yawned, for real this time. “Ah, excuse me.”

Katsuki sat up on his elbows. “You tired?”

Deku checked the time. It was midnight. An hour remained until they could sneak out of the house and enact their plan. Deku shook his head. “I’ll be fine. It’s not long until we leave.”

Katsuki got to his feet, reached over to the bed and picked up one of his pillows. He threw it directly at Deku’s face.

“Take a nap downstairs. I’ll wake you up when it’s time.”

Deku hugged the pillow close to his chest and rubbed his cheek. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want to drag your weary ass across the city. Just get some sleep before we go.”

Deku nodded, still clutching the pillow as he got up and hopped over the board. “Alright. I’m a pretty deep sleeper, though, so you’ll have to really try to wake me up.”

“Yeah, I fucking know,” Katsuki mumbled, remembering how he had slept like a statue in the front seat of his car. “Blankets are in the cupboard in the hallway.”

“Thanks, Kacchan.” Deku left the room, leaving Katsuki alone. He sighed and started packing up the game, collecting the tiles into the bag and folding the board to fit it in the box.

 

Am I really doing this? Katsuki wondered. It was such a strange dichotomy—the two of them had just played what an outsider would consider a friendly game, and in an hour, they were about to sneak out to commit murder. Katsuki also felt more bewildered when it came to Deku than he ever had. He was still insistent that they weren’t friends, but as they bantered, Katsuki felt the mask that he held in front of everyone slip. Deku was putting him at ease, an emotion he had never felt around another person before. Katsuki tried to explain it away; Deku and him had a unique bond now. It wasn’t friendship, but it was something almost as close. No one else knew his true nature, so around Deku, he didn’t have to hide anything. But it didn’t explain the hollow feeling in Katsuki’s chest when the minutes ticked away without Deku’s presence at his side.

 

 

 

When the clock struck 1am, Katsuki got up from his mindless scrolling on his bed and reached under his bed. He retrieved the dark clothes that were basically moulded to his skin now from how many times he had worn them. They covered his skin from head to toe, keeping him safe in the shadows. With his cloak of anonymity on, Katsuki headed downstairs, not bothering to be quiet since he was going to wake up Deku anyway. He had shut off all the lights, so Katsuki used the circular torch of his phone to guide him. He could see Deku’s mop of green hair resting on the arm of the couch, and when he got closer, his soft breathing was the only noise Katsuki could hear in the room.

“Deku, get up,” he said. Despite his ‘inside voice’ already being louder than most, the boy didn’t stir. If it weren’t for the rising and falling of his chest, he might’ve looked dead. Deku was so still, arms lightly clutching the fluffy white blanket he’d taken from the cupboard and face turned so his face was squashed into the pillow. His pink lips were dry and slightly parted, and his eyelashes, illuminated by the light coming from the phone, were so long and dark that Katsuki wondered how they avoided getting tangled every time he blinked his giant green eyes.

“Deku.” Katsuki put a hand on his head, threading his fingers through his soft curls. He still didn’t move. “You damn nerd, wake up.” The texture of his thick hair danced over his fingertips. It was softer than he expected, and Katsuki absentmindedly ran his hand from the top of his scalp to the back of his ear, brushing the locks that fell over his closed eyes out of the way. No response. Deku’s dotted face was still deep in a slumber.

“God fucking damn it.” Katsuki pulled his hand from Deku’s hair, clenching it like he had just yanked away from a red hot stove. Despite being the obvious thing to do, Katsuki just couldn’t bring himself to wake Deku up by force. Shaking him would wipe that gentle, relaxed expression off his face, and it made Katsuki’s jaw clench up so hard his cheeks hurt. Why was Deku making him think this way? It was identical to how he felt as the boy slept in his car after passing out at the party, almost like a spell that Deku put on him that prevented Katsuki from acting logically. He pulled out his phone. It was ten minutes past 1, so he’d been pussyfooting around waking up for far too long now. He sat down on the purple rug, pulling out his phone again. Katsuki felt the time pass, letting Deku sleep peacefully on the couch next to him for a little while longer.

 

Deku finally stirred from his elongated nap at around 2am, and Katsuki could immediately tell he was awake after his breathing changed. He turned around, looking Deku right in his crescent moon eyes, which shot open at the sight of Katsuki’s masked face. He pulled it down.

“Chill out, you idiot, it’s me,” he said. Deku relaxed, letting out a yawn and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Is it 1 yet?” he asked, voice deep and still groggy. “I feel like I slept for a while.”

“Yeah, we can go when you get changed,” Katsuki lied. He didn’t feel like explaining why he had restrained himself from waking Deku up at the agreed time. “The clothes are on my desk upstairs. Don’t bring anything else with you.” 

Deku pulled off the blanket, being careful not to drop it on the floor. He draped it over the couch and stood up, stretching up to the ceiling. His layers of clothes rose above his waistline, and the glint of his silver belt buckle caught Katsuki’s wandering eyes.

“OK, I’ll be right back.” Deku walked upstairs with alacrity, fully awake now that he remembered the reason Katsuki had invited him over in the first place. Katsuki folded the blanket and carried it upstairs, returning it to the cupboard. He waited outside his room for Deku to change, looking up when he heard the door open.

The boy was dressed very similarly to him– all black pants, hood, shoes and gloves, but he still looked a little nervous. He hadn’t pulled the mask over his face, so his mouth mumbled silently. Katsuki felt for the sheath that held his knife on his belt and inhaled through his teeth.

“It’s not too late to back out, Deku,” he stated. Deku stopped mumbling and gazed at Katsuki intensely. He pulled the fabric over his nose.

“I’m on board,” he replied. Katsuki just gave a short nod and walked past him. He placed his phone on the desk before unlocking the window and pushing it open.

“Make sure you leave yours, too,” instructed Katsuki. “And shut the window behind you.” He hopped through the open ledge, grabbed a thick branch and swung his body into the tree. Deku followed him, sliding down the trunk to meet Katsuki in the front yard.

“Stay close to me, Deku.”

Crickets screeched through the slums of Hase, providing the only background noise for Katsuki and Deku as they navigated their way to the east side. They had been communicating without words well, only needing a hand gesture or head tilt to convey meaning. Deku had been staying close to Katsuki, easily keeping up with his sprinting speed and even getting ahead of him when they were faced with a wall. Deku would get over much more effortlessly than Katsuki, but he always waited patiently for the other boy to join him before they took off again. Katsuki had shamelessly tried to copy some of Deku’s moves, but more times than others, he tripped over his feet and almost scraped up his arms. Not once did Deku look back and catch him in the act, an action Katsuki was extremely grateful for. He was sure the boy would be able to spot his burning humiliation even under the cover of pitch-black night.

 

Once they were getting closer, it was safe to exchange hushed whispers. The population in this part of the wrecked town was low, and most inhabitants would be in a deep sleep. Katsuki had also slowed down, slinking around alleys and sticking to the dark coverage as he recalled the route he had memorised in his mind.

“Hey, Kacchan,” said Deku in a low tone.

Katsuki peered over his shoulder. “What?”

“Do you want to know where I was hiding when I saw you kill my boss?”

Katsuki stopped walking. “Hah?”

Deku shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, I know you must be thinking about it. When I saw you the other night, you were checking around for places where someone could be hiding and be a witness. But you didn’t find me.”

Katsuki frowned, his narrowed eyebrows visible under his pulled hood. “Enlighten me, then.”

Deku walked in front of him, leading him in the opposite direction to where they were heading. But Katsuki was burningly curious to know where he had been. He’d already spotted one of Deku’s hiding spots, which he had almost missed entirely. So he desperately wanted to know where this nerd had managed to avoid him.

Deku stopped on a corner, pointing up. “Up there.”

Following his finger, Katsuki tilted his head almost horizontally. Deku was pointing at a tall, practically skyscraper-esque building on a block of decrepit and abandoned houses. It looked like it was barely standing, and entire floors were almost completely destroyed. What it was before it began deteriorating, he had no clue. A few streets over was the place where Katsuki had murdered Shinkawa.

“What floor were you on?” Katsuki wondered aloud. Deku almost laughed, but he interrupted it before making too loud of a noise.

“I was on the roof,” he answered.

 

Katsuki shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. He spun around and stared at Deku, astonished. 

“The roof?” He whipped his head back and forth between the building and the boy. “But half that damn building is dust! How did you get up there?”

In the indigo darkness, Katsuki could make out a cheeky wink. “Take a wild guess, Kacchan.” Of course.

“You and your stupid parkour,” Katsuki hissed. He kicked at the pavement, freeing chunks of eroded cement. “I guess I have to admit I don’t usually think to check that high.”

Deku turned around, walking back towards the east side of the slums. “If it gives you any peace of mind, I don’t think you really need to worry.” He leapt over a concrete wall that Katsuki struggled to pull himself over. “Most higher buildings are way too difficult for a normal person to enter. Some of them are too hard for me. So don’t stress over it too much.”

Katsuki grumbled. “Says the person who isn’t the one with the knife.”

“I’m almost as guilty as you, Kacchan. Don’t think I’m such a saint.”

Katsuki didn’t respond to that. Now, as they walked back to their original destination, Katsuki couldn’t help but stare at the long-forgotten buildings looming over the houses. Most of them had smashed windows, chunks of wall missing, and some had no roof. He tried to imagine what manoeuvres Deku had taken to get up to the sky, the skilful jumps he did to reach the roof where he could see everything from above, and no one could see him in return.

 

“Is it freeing…?” he murmured. Deku must’ve barely caught his words because he didn’t stop until a few seconds after Katsuki had spoken.

“Sorry?”

“Is it freeing. Being up so high.”

Katsuki couldn’t see it, but he was certain Deku was smiling. He gave a light nod.

“It is, Kacchan. It’s very freeing.” He turned to the building they were standing next to and jumped, pulling himself up to a ledge. Now, he was sitting on a broken windowsill a few metres off the ground, legs dangling above Katsuki.

“No one can stop you in the air. They can only wait and see if you’ll eventually come down. That’s why I like it up high. Since there’s no need to pretend, I can be who I want to be. And the majority of people won’t even notice I’m there.” Katsuki couldn’t see Deku’s face, but his voice suddenly became a lot softer. “If I’m honest, it’s how I feel around you, since I know I don’t have to hide who I am. I mean, we both know the worst things about one another already, don’t we?”

Katsuki listened in silence. It was strangely poetic to see Deku embrace his nature and exclaim how peaceful he felt up high, away from anyone who might force him to return to Earth. It felt reassuring to know how secure Deku was, but Katsuki would never feel that certainty, and it hurt him. He wasn’t someone who could fly. He was pinned to the soil, forced into a life and role he couldn’t escape—that of a perfect son, a perfect friend, a perfect student, a perfect man. Deku thought Katsuki was sure of himself, but he couldn’t be more wrong. If Katsuki had the courage to join Deku in the air and accept his true character, maybe he would feel a little more free. But how could he deserve to feel that freedom after he had stolen so much from others? 

The sky Katsuki was destined to soar in was not the bright blue one with fluffy snow-white clouds that Deku lived in. It was one decorated with hot blades of hatred and burning flames of retributive karma. While Deku was fated to touch the heavens, Katsuki was cursed to descend down to the depths of Hell.

 

Deku jumped down next to Katsuki. His landing was muted, but his words screamed into his soul.

“Everyone is so focused on their lives on the ground, they never once think to glance up at the sky.”

The two boys reached the east side right on time. The first thing Katsuki did was find a place where Deku could watch and also stay hidden. Their target was sleeping in a shelter with a large, broken window by the front door, so Deku would witness everything from afar. Katsuki directed him to a tall building across the street, where he could be elevated on a higher floor but still be in view. The front door was closed off by a bundle of barbed wire, but Deku was sure he could make short work of it.

“OK, Spiderman, take these before you jump up there.” Katsuki handed him a pair of thick binoculars, and Deku raised an eyebrow.

“Are these mine?” he asked cautiously.

Katsuki scoffed. “I’m not a stalker like you, nerd. These are mine. Take ‘em, and when you see I’m done, meet me here by the barbed wire.”

Deku took the binoculars and threw them around his neck. He then pulled down his mask to show off the broad smile he was hiding. His braces glinted a little in the moonlight.

“Knock ‘em dead, Kacchan.”

With Deku’s morbid words… cheering him on, Katsuki snuck into the unlocked house, hugging the walls and shuffling his feet over the creaky floorboards. The image of Fujita’s face flashed in his mind, and he began scanning the sleeping faces. Katsuki found who he was looking for, huddled against another figure for warmth. They were visible from the window, and Katsuki was sure Deku could see him from his perch. Katsuki positioned his hold on the sleeping man to give Deku a good view before running his sharp blade across the porcelain skin, hitting the jugular vein and spurting scarlet blood over his hands and arms.

Katsuki’s dopamine pumped through his veins rapidly, and the compulsion he had been keeping at bay disappeared, leaving only bliss behind. He shakily inhaled, gripping the knife’s handle so tightly it would be burned into his palms. The man died almost instantly, slipping through his arms as Katsuki relaxed and stood up. His victim’s skull hit the cold floor, and with the sound came the switch in Katsuki’s mind. Like a speeding train, disgust crashed into him, and the dizziness nearly knocked him over.

 

He was revolting. He had never felt so ashamed of himself in his life. Deku had just watched Katsuki commit another murder up close. He was sure that the younger boy was going to see the terrible person Katsuki was underneath, a person who revelled in harming others and didn’t care about the consequences for anyone but himself. In fact, Katsuki was convinced that Deku wasn’t even hanging around him for any reason other than fear. He knew what he really was: a monster. And Deku was scared of him, terrified that he could be next. Katsuki thought back to the cracked sound of Deku’s voice when he’d forced him to expose himself, and his chest burned at the memory. He was truly a pitiful excuse for a human. No one, not even Deku, could delude themselves into thinking he was a good person now.

As his mind spiralled, Katsuki snuck over to the other side of the road, where Deku was already waiting for him. His throat closed up, and he kept his eyes trained on the concrete. Deku was shifting from foot to foot.

“Kacchan, that was– I mean, I don’t even know what to-!”

Katsuki stopped the breathless boy, holding up his bloodstained hand to quiet Deku.

“Save it until we’re out of here.”

On the way back to Katsuki’s neighbourhood, he avoided eye contact with Deku for the entire journey. It was easy while they were running through the narrow alleys and jumping over picket fences, but when they returned to Katsuki’s empty room, his stomach was stirring at the thought of his blood-red eyes meeting Deku’s jade-green ones.

 

Deku shut the window firmly and pulled off his hood. The previously contained hair burst out, lone strands falling to the floor as Deku ran his hands through it. Katsuki immediately bolted for the door, not bothering to invite Deku to follow him. He skipped a few stairs, went to the bottom floor, and opened the laundry. Since his parents were absent, he pulled off his bloody clothes and tossed them right into the machine. Peeling off the evidence of his crimes let him release a breath he’d been struggling to free. Katsuki felt cleaner, but when he looked at his hands, the stains of blood flashed in his mind.

“Kacchan?”

Katsuki tensed. Of course Deku would chase after him. Without turning towards the door, he extended his hand behind him.

“Give me your clothes. I’ll wash them.”

Deku ignored his outstretched arm and walked over, standing beside Katsuki.

“I didn’t get dirty,” said Deku. He moved his head down, trying to meet Katsuki’s eyes. It was futile.

Dirty. That’s exactly what Katsuki was. His dark past was a stain he’d never be able to clean away, no matter how hard he scrubbed. Despite his complicity, Deku was spotless compared to Katsuki.

“Are you alright?”

 

Katsuki moved his body to face Deku, but he kept his eyes locked on both their pairs of dark shoes.

“I’m fine. You got what you wanted, didn’t you? I’m sure you have burning questions now.”

Deku paused. “I mean, yeah, but I want to make sure–”

“Then hit me.”

“But Kacchan–”

“And give me your clothes. I don’t care if you didn’t get a speck of dust on you; I’m cleaning them.”

Katsuki could see him fidgeting. He was tapping his foot against the other, and his gloved hands wouldn’t stop moving.

“I’m not asking you anything,” Deku finally said. “I’m worried about you. You don’t seem yourself right now.”

Katsuki scoffed. “Like you know anything about me.” He reached into the cabinet above the washing machine, grabbed the bottle of peroxide, and slammed the door shut. He grabbed the gloves, which were the most bloody and poured the solution over them. Katsuki did the same with the sleeves of his jacket before turning the machine on and walking out of the room.

“If you’re not going to do what I invited you here to do, I’ll take you home.” Katsuki walked off without waiting for a response, shutting the door to his room and locking it securely. He needed a few seconds to be alone before he faced Deku again.

 

How could Deku be so relaxed around him after just seeing first-hand what Katsuki was capable of? No normal person would want to be near someone they’d just seen unabashedly commit murder voluntarily. He was scared. That had to be it. Deku was too frightened of what Katsuki might do to him if he tried to leave. But Katsuki wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to him again. 

No. No, no, stop. Katsuki slapped his face with his cold hands. I said I’d trust him. That means trusting his words. And he said he was… worried. 

Katsuki could hear shuffling outside his door. Deku was waiting outside. He would have to let him in at some point; there was no point in avoiding him. Deku wasn’t going to walk home in the dead of night. So Katsuki quickly changed back into his black tank top and sweatpants and opened the door to Deku, standing awkwardly in the hallway. He was holding the borrowed clothing in his arms, only wearing the shirt and pants now. Katsuki still avoided his eyes.

 

“Kacchan,” he breathed. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. If tonight was too much for you, I–”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki interrupted. “I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. Tonight was just a little different to what I was used to.”

Deku relaxed a little. “Oh, I understand why you feel that way. Did you, I mean… you got what you wanted out of it, though, right?”

“You didn’t have to phrase it like that,” Katsuki groaned. Deku blushed. “But… yeah. Did you?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I won’t lie; it was… enthralling. I’ve always wanted to observe a murder in real time, so I’m grateful you trusted me enough to let me come along. Although I get it if you don’t want me to watch anymore. If it makes you uneasy. But I don’t see you any differently. I still think you’re… well, you know.”

Katsuki rubbed his temples. “I don’t… know how I feel about it right now. It’s too early for me to figure out. But it does have something to do with you, so… we’ll have to see where this takes us.”

Deku’s compassionate smile returned– Katsuki could hear it in his voice. “I’ll wait. If you want to take a break from seeing me, that’s fine.”

“We… probably don’t need to do that.” Not seeing Deku for a few days wouldn’t be a good idea for his paranoid and wandering mind. If he wasn’t able to know exactly how Deku was feeling, Katsuki would spiral into a rabbit hole similar to the one he had when the high died down. He needed to see Deku to confirm his integrity. 

 

“Did you still want to drive me home?” Deku asked softly. Katsuki moved out of his doorway and let the boy into his room.

“Change back into your clothes, and I’ll get you outta here. You need rest.”

Deku walked past him, picking up the white jumper and blazer from where he had neatly folded them on the bed. Katsuki turned to leave the room to give him privacy.

“Can I ask you one thing, Kacchan?”

“...What?”

“Can you look at me?”

Stiffness riddled Katsuki's body, and he froze, gripping the side of the doorframe tightly. The plea was not made out of harmful intent, and kindness was practically dripping from Deku’s voice. Katsuki still hesitated. In his mind, when he met those bright green eyes again, they’d be filled with horror and repulsion. Katsuki didn’t think he could bear to see that expression on Deku’s face after all the admiration he’d shown. It would be like confirming that the one person in the world who knew his secret saw him as the wicked monster he thought he was.

“...Kacchan?”

Katsuki still didn’t want to look. He could visualise those disgusted eyes so clearly. Seeing them in real life would pain him too much. He tried not to care about what Deku thought, but it couldn’t be helped. Knowing that Deku might not actually view him in the positive light that he said he did would be too distressing.

Deku stepped forward, causing Katsuki to become as still as a statue. He could sense that Deku was behind him, waiting for a response. Katsuki took a very deep breath and slowly looked over his shoulder to finally meet Deku’s viridian eyes.

 

Any cynical images he’d conjured up were completely wrong. Deku was transfixed by Katsuki, staring at him in absolute awe. His eyes, so vast and full of light, held sympathy Katsuki had never been offered before. Deku’s face was one of concern, not abhorrence. He really did feel everything he’d said, including worry. When their eyes finally met, and Deku saw the flash of red, he smiled unbelievably widely, and there was no hint of malice in his face at all. Those soft, dotted freckles that painted his face lived on every corner of his skin, and Katsuki could see them disappear down his neck and under his shirt. He saw him open his mouth to say something.

 

Even with his compassionate expression, Deku’s words had a sadness to them. “I’m glad to see you still look at me the same, Kacchan.”

 

Katsuki drove Deku home in silence. They had barely exchanged a passing word since they had changed out of their undercover clothes and sat in the car. Katsuki was concentrating hard on the empty road, trying to ignore the questions he had about Deku.

Deku, on the other hand, looked like he had a lot to say, but he was keeping it to himself. He stared out the window, watching the houses and trees fly by.

 

Katsuki pulled onto Deku’s street, parking the car away from his house so the running engine didn’t disturb his mother. Deku unbuckled his seatbelt and put his hand on the door, but stopped.

“Ka–”

“I know you’ve been dying to tell me something,” Katsuki cut in. “Pun not fucking intended. So go ahead, Deku, spit it out now.”

Deku brushed green hair behind his ear. “I-I was wondering something. And I know you’ve said otherwise before, but I… I just have to ask again. And tell me the truth. I can handle hearing it.”

With one hand still on the steering wheel, Katsuki turned to Deku. “What is it.”

Biting his lip, Deku looked at the roof of the car before exhaling. “Are… are we friends?”

 

Prior to that night, Katsuki would have dismissed him with a simple ‘no’. He wanted nothing to do with the underclassman and would have wished upon anything to get him out of his life. But things had become more complicated now, and Katsuki couldn’t even label how he felt towards Deku. 

Were they friends? They certainly did things that others would consider friendly behaviour. Friends made jokes, played board games and hung out at one another’s places. Katsuki objectively acted differently around Deku than others he did consider his friends. But he only did that because he had to. Deku had basically forced himself into his life. That didn’t automatically make them close. Regardless, it frustrated Katsuki that Deku had essentially stripped him of the mask he’d built up over the years.

Friends supported one another. Alright, that was a big one. Murder would probably be a deal breaker for most friendships, but Deku had taken the time to understand and learn why Katsuki was driven to commit crimes. And despite witnessing the brutality, he had accepted it wholeheartedly, even wanting to observe it to learn more. That wasn’t something a normal person did. Katsuki had pretty much hit the lottery in finding the one individual in the world who wouldn’t report him for his actions. But that was also somewhat due to Deku’s own fascination. He was undoubtedly a little unhinged himself, so he wasn’t exactly a perfect example of ethical behaviour. 

Don’t think I’m such a saint.

Maybe Deku thought he was just as bad for aiding with the crimes. He was obstructing justice for selfish reasons, just like Katsuki. Nevertheless, no matter how much Deku tried to share the blame evenly, the fact remained that Deku had never killed anyone. That sin was reserved for Katsuki only.

 

Deku was still waiting for his answer. Katsuki tended to do that a lot– leave him hanging on a thread while he debated with himself in his mind. But ultimately, the response he gave him was what left the least up to interpretation. 

 

“You’re just the only person I can talk to about this. So no, we’re still not friends, Deku.”

 

Deku’s tired face fell, but he didn’t look surprised. He was probably expecting a negative answer. So why did he ask then?

“I thought you might say that.” Determination suddenly glinted in his eye. “But I’m not giving up. I’ll show you I can be a good friend in other ways, too, Kacchan.” Katsuki barely registered a wave before Deku was gone, walking up the pavement to his house. All he left behind was a tired, shaken and very muddled Katsuki Bakugou.

Notes:

ok so im super proud i wrote a chapter this long and i've been trying to update every 2-3 days but i might take a little longer for the next few posts because i am going to try and keep up the current chapter length __φ(．．) i hope everyone is still enjoying the fic!!

Chapter 6: A Painting

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=b34adf6b649e4896

a bit on the shorter side, 6.4k words
i am super excited for future chapters bc its going to dive into their new relationship a lot :D enjoy!!

Nightmares were not a common intrusion in Katsuki’s sleep. When they did appear, the boy had the sense to acknowledge that they were nothing more than a figment of his unconscious brain’s imagination and didn’t let the visions bother him. However, there was one burning image that was haunting his dreams. 

The flashing likeness of Deku’s vivid green eyes, staring at him with horror.

 

It was an irrational dream to have. Ever since the night the two of them snuck out, Deku and Katsuki barely spoke. It wasn’t because they needed space, like Deku had suggested, but it was simply because they hadn’t found a chance to talk and discuss how the other was feeling yet. They were in different grades; they had different responsibilities. There was no ulterior reason- it was just the way life worked. Katsuki was trying to stop thinking baseless thoughts while in Deku’s absence. He had not given any sort of indication that he was disgusted with Katsuki, even in their small interactions. The most Katsuki got from Deku the past few days was a friendly smile as they passed in the hallways, which he never returned. That reassuring grin was keeping most of Katsuki’s illogical thoughts at bay, but it wasn’t enough to stop the frightening visions of Deku’s repulsed eyes that appeared in his sleep.

 

Now that it was the weekend, Katsuki had a chance to reach out to Deku and find out what he was thinking. Did he still consider Katsuki a good person? It was hard to assess since Deku’s perception of what a good person is defined as was a little twisted. He said he didn’t think of Katsuki any differently after he watched him commit murder. Still, no matter how often he told himself that he trusted Deku, that little worm of disbelief kept wriggling down deeper and deeper in his mind. It was just the fact that it was so unbelievable for a person to be so calm and understanding of such a brutal topic. Deku’s acceptance was an anomaly, which made Katsuki unable to fully wrap his head around what his mindset was.

 

Katsuki was lying flat on his back with his arms raised up to the ceiling, holding his phone above his face. He was going back and forth between his messaging app and social media, trying to distract himself. He was trying to work himself up to texting Deku and asking if he wanted to meet up that day, but every time he opened their chat, his stomach would churn, and he’d feel nauseous, so Katsuki was avoiding it for now.

Scrolling through his friend’s photos, Katsuki began to wonder how others communicated so easily and why it was so difficult for him. It was so strange to see recounts of his classmates bragging about texting so many others and responding quickly and effortlessly to all of them. Katsuki was no stranger to receiving mountains of messages from his friends and strangers alike, but the thought of having simultaneous conversations with multiple people was horrible. Here he was, barely able to send a first text to one person, and others were managing their time between dozens of people? Katsuki couldn’t imagine it.

 

After seeing one particularly stupid picture of Kaminari and Kirishima on his feed - it looked like they were both drunk and trying to pour bottles of alcohol in each other’s mouths- Katsuki closed out of the social media app and hovered his finger over his and Deku’s chat. If their in person conversations were short, their online ones were almost nonexistent. Katsuki had never been good at texting, even with those he did actually have something to talk to about. So when he finally swallowed his nerves and clicked in, the dry responses on his side made him feel like a socially inept moron.

[DEKU] - Wednesday, 08:47

Hi, Kacchan! ( ᵔ ⩊ ᵔ ) How are you feeling this morning?

 

[YOU] - Wednesday, 11:29

fine

 

[DEKU] - Wednesday, 11:30

That’s good to hear!! ＼(＾▽＾)／ I hope you have good classes for the rest of the day!

 

[YOU] - Wednesday, 14:18

k

[DEKU] - Thursday, 08:35

Have a good day today, Kacchan! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

[YOU] - Friday, 00:12

huhdnsdkjnfsdbhndfhudfuwehfns

 

[DEKU] - Friday, 07:03

Everything alright, Kacchan? (⊙_⊙)

 

[YOU] - Friday, 8:19

accident. ignore it

 

[DEKU] - Friday, 08:22

No worries! ヾ(´ ▽ ` ) Have a good day at school!

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at Deku’s texts. He was so talkative and free with his words, putting those stupid faces in his messages and always responding positively no matter how uninterested Katsuki’s replies were. It wasn’t like he had nothing to say to him. There were actually plenty of thoughts he wanted to share with Deku, but a lot of them couldn’t be said over text without the risk of potentially incriminating the both of them. So, the obvious answer to the problem would be to ask Deku to meet him somewhere they wouldn’t be overheard, but he was struggling to put the request into words. He kept running through what Deku’s reaction to getting a text to him might be. Would he be excited? Would he be scared? Would he think something was wrong? Well, something was wrong: Katsuki hadn’t seen him in a few days. Without verbal confirmation, his trust in Deku couldn’t be as stable. Finally, after avoiding it for a length of time that was starting to become embarrassing, Katsuki clicked into the text bar, formulating a message to Deku in his mind.

 

“ Let’s talk outside- nope, that sounds like I’m watching him from his window.” Katsuki groaned and deleted the message. 

“ Meet me at the- fuck. No, I need to ask if he’s even available now.” Katsuki deleted that one, too. His fingers helicoptered over the screen. 

“ What are you doing today- No, I don’t want to look like I care about what he’s doing. I mean, I do care, but I don’t care. Ugh.” Katsuki put the phone to his forehead. “Why the fuck am I getting so stressed over sending a fucking text to this nerd?”

Katsuki opened the notes app and wrote down a few opening sentences that he could copy and paste to Deku. After getting his initial thoughts down, he read over them carefully. Most of them were very aggressive, so he reworded them. Some of them came off too desperate, so he erased those. A few of them struck the balance of authoritative and casual, so he went between those and tried to decide which would be the best one to start with. Katsuki had whittled it down to two. He let out an irritated sigh. 

“Shit, I need to just stop overthinking it-”

Katsuki was snapped out of his mumbling when his phone vibrated against his palm. His eyes opened wide, and he stared at the blinding screen. Deku had messaged him before he had the chance.

 

[DEKU] - 10:37

Hi, Kacchan! Are you doing anything today? ( ˙꒳​˙ )

 

There it was. There was his in. Now, he could get what he wanted without doing any of the awkward first texting. Success!! Katsuki typed a response:

 

[YOU] - 10:38

no

 

Perfect. Now, all Deku had to do was bring up the idea of seeing each other, and he could casually agree. Deku would have no idea of all the stress Katsuki had just gone through trying to construct a simple message.

[DEKU] - 10:38

Would you like to do something with me? I think you’ll like it a lot!! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

 

Oh, great. That wasn’t exactly what he had planned. Actually doing something together and not just sitting down and talking was the opposite of what he wanted. Katsuki didn’t want to hang out with Deku as if they were pals catching up on the weekend. He had serious things to discuss with him. If this had taken place a few weeks prior, Katsuki would have immediately typed ‘no’. But he paused before replying, thinking back to how he had genuinely enjoyed Deku’s company, and how relaxed he felt around him. Katsuki didn’t like that he felt at ease with his presence, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he did. So instead, he sucked up his ego and responded to the message.

[YOU] - 10:40

ok

Deku’s bubble, which indicated he was typing, popped up immediately. Katsuki rolled off the bed and put his phone on his dresser as he began pulling out fresh clothes. He had just taken off his wrinkled tank top when Deku responded.

[DEKU] - 10:41

Yay! ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ You’ll definitely enjoy it, Kacchan!! Meet me in the town square around noon! I’ll see you there! (ᵔ.ᵔ)

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

The chill of late autumn air had begun to set in. Katsuki was wrapped up in a dark red jacket and warm yellow scarf. His legs were feeling the cold, and he regretted not wearing a thicker pair of jeans. Hopefully, whatever stupid thing Deku had planned didn’t involve the outdoors. Katsuki kept his hands shoved in his pockets to keep them from trembling.

Katsuki was waiting for Deku outside his family’s shop, which was a lot busier than when he worked due to it being the weekend. Some of the customers were people Katsuki recognised from school. He made sure to avoid eye contact with any of them.

“Kacchan!”

 

Katsuki turned to see Deku coming over, holding two drinks. He was dressed for the weather, with a dark green cardigan and light brown dress pants. With the denim messenger bag slung over his shoulder, Deku looked like he had just stepped off the campus of an art college.

“This is your parent’s shop, isn’t it?” Deku began, tilting his head up to the signage above the door. “I’ve been here a few times. It’s really nice!”

Katsuki crossed his arms. “It’s whatever.” He eyed the drinks that Deku was holding. “What’s that?”

Deku smiled. “Well, it’s a bit of a walk, so I thought I’d get us something to drink! It’s boba tea!” He held one cup out to Katsuki, who took it cautiously. Deku gestured for Katsuki to follow him, so he walked beside the boy on the busy sidewalk.

“What flavour did you get?” He wasn’t particularly picky with boba, but he wanted to know what Deku thought would be his taste.

Deku took a long sip from his own cup. “Mine is peach, and yours is lychee! I hope that’s alright, I just guessed what you might like-”

Katsuki froze. “What the hell? How did you know I always get that? How long have you been stalking me, you creep?”

Wide, frantic eyes met Katsuki’s. Deku nervously glanced around to see if anyone had overheard them. “Oh- no, no, Kacchan, I just randomly picked! I promise! It just seemed like something you’d like!”

Katsuki frowned. “Yeah, bullshit. No one ever gets the lychee flavour. You had to have figured it out some other way.”

“I promise I didn’t!” implored Deku. “It really was just a lucky guess!”

Looking away, Katsuki took a sip of the drink. It was as good as always. He kept walking beside Deku, who was anxiously sipping through his straw.

“Maybe you know me better than I thought,” Katsuki muttered. Deku gazed up at him in shock, looking him up and down before bursting into a smile. Katsuki chuckled softly and rolled his eyes. That look on Deku’s face would never get old.

 

“So, where are we going?” asked Katsuki. The streets were hectic, filled with families and groups of students, all trying to avoid bumping into each other as they entered and exited the shops that littered the perimeter of the town square. 

Deku tapped his nose. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise!”

Katsuki spoke with the straw still in his mouth. “I don’t like surprises, Deku.”

“Come on, you said you trust me, right?” Deku slurped down the last drops of his drink before tossing his cup into a nearby bin. “I promise you’re going to enjoy it!”

“Fine. It better not be something lame like pottery.”

Deku turned to him. “Is pottery your idea of peak lameness?”

“Hanging out with you tops that, actually,” Katsuki muttered.

“Oh, Kacchan, don’t,” Deku urged, a sensitive tone in his voice. “If you didn’t want to be around me, you would’ve said no to coming out today.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, and if I said no, you’d get all mad and start blabbing about the-”

“No, I wouldn’t. You don’t actually think that, do you?”

He scoffed, throwing his finished drink away. Deku was right– he didn’t really believe that anymore. It was his go-to defence when he was caught being in Deku’s company, but it didn’t have any legs to stand on anymore. But lying was easier than admitting Katsuki had felt Deku’s absence intensely the past week.

“Deku–”

“Oh, we’re here!”

 

Katsuki looked up—he’d been keeping his eyes on Deku and the pavement on the walk. Deku was running up the driveway of a colourful house, with a painted turquoise fence and bright yellow walls on the outside. The roof was a deep shade of maroon, and the windowsills were painted bright pink. It looked like a house a child had coloured in.

“Which clown owns this house?” Katsuki mumbled to himself. He followed Deku as he knocked on the door, and a short girl with brown hair tied in a bun answered with a smile.

“Oh, hello!” she greeted. “Are you here for the session?”

“Yes! I hope we aren’t too late!” said Deku.

The girl welcomed the two boys inside. “You’re right on time! Please feel free to hang up your coats. We’re just about to start!”

Deku thanked the girl and pulled off his cardigan and shoes, changing into the slippers provided near the door. Katsuki unwrapped his scarf, peering down the hallways. They were equally as polychromatic as the outside of the house.

“The session?” Katsuki questioned. “You bring me here to induct me into a circus act?”

Deku laughed. “No, Kacchan. We’re here to paint!”

In the middle of unzipping his jacket, Katsuki stopped. “Hah? Paint?”

Deku threw his green cardigan over the hook against the wall. “Yeah! Basically, the girl who lives here has a big art studio, and every Saturday, she holds a session where people can come in and paint whatever they want! It’s supposed to be a way for people who like art to connect and make friends with similar interests!”

Katsuki took a few steps down the hall and looked over into the open space. About a dozen easels were set up, with paints and palettes on standby. A few people were there, talking amongst themselves. Paintings hung up on the walls, which must've been white at some point but were now splattered with multiple vivid colours.

 

“I found it online,” Deku continued, placing his bag over the same hook. “I know you said you prefer to hide what you draw sometimes, but I thought you might like doing something like this just for fun. And you’re probably not interested in the… um… “making friends” part of it, but I figured we’d just-”

“Deku.” Katsuki cut him off. “It’s fine. This is gonna be fine. But-” He leaned into his ear and lowered his voice, feeling Deku’s curls against his nose. “I am going to leave you and these other losers in the dust.” He pulled back with a mischievous grin, and Deku was stammering.

“I-I don’t think that’s the point, K-Kacchan… It’s not a contest; it’s supposed to be about the art…”

“Maybe to you nerds, but I’m taking this seriously,” he announced. “So you better think of something good to paint, Deku.”

The girl hosting the event, who Katsuki learned was named Uraraka, passed out brushes and palettes stained with colour to her guests. There were no rules, and they were encouraged to go wild. They had about three hours, which was more than enough time for Katsuki. He tied the apron Uraraka handed out around his waist and looked around. Deku was at the easel next to him, fiddling with the hairs of a brush. Katsuki stared at his white canvas, ideas running through his head. He gripped the palette in his hand and drummed the brush against it. Katsuki usually painted scenery, whether that be the luscious greens of Hase’s fields or the colder greys of its cities. But as he examined the empty canvas and the paints in front of him, one scene from his memory stood out to him, and he knew what he wanted to do.

 

Uraraka was standing in the corner of the room with her own easel. She must’ve been painting before the session started, because her hands were tinted red. She raised her head when she saw Katsuki coming.

“Everything alright… uh?”

“Bakugou,” he said.

“Bakugou!” she nodded. “What can I help you with?”

Katsuki shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around nervously. “Y’got any… uh… tape?”

Uraraka brightened. “Oh, masking tape? Wow, you’ve got something fancy in mind, don’t you?”

Katsuki grumbled in response, but the cheery girl was already searching her cupboards for the tape. He heard her gasp of joy when she found it, holding it out to Katsuki.

“Here you are! I can’t wait to see what you create!”

Her infectious energy followed him back to his station, and he pulled a strip of tape off, placing it halfway down the canvas. 

Deku peered over. His canvas was splattered with strokes of brown and green in abstract shapes that didn’t have a form yet. Katsuki put his palette up in front of his face.

“Eyes on your own work, nerd.”

“What are you doing with the tape?” he asked, ignoring him. “Are you sectioning the canvas into equal squares? Are you going to draw two different scenes? What colours are you going to- AH!”

Katsuki dipped his brush into the paint thinner and flicked it at Deku, who flinched as the liquid dripped off his face.

“Focus on your art.” He walked over to the paint tubes by the sink and squeezed out the desired colours. Katsuki lined his palette with hues of yellow, red, blue, white and black. That was all he needed.

 

Katsuki started by grabbing a thick brush and dipping it into the yellow. He began at the top, painting a thin layer of the golden colour that leaked off the white canvas. Moving below that, he mixed yellow with red to create a warm orange, creating strokes that bled onto the masking tape, cutting the canvas in half.

Drying off the brush, Katsuki started combining red and blue to make a soft purple. Only using a small amount of paint, he created the vision of the sky, fading on the canvas from a light purple to a yellow to a red. He added the clouds using a smaller brush and white paint, giving the strokes depth. The first part was beginning to come together.

The image he was recalling was the early morning that he had the night of Sero’s party. He was blocking out the colours of the sunrise, and he would then move on to paint the lookout spot with its thick fence protecting onlookers from tripping over the steep cliff and tumbling onto the sand below. Painting was always Katsuki's means of escape. It sounded lame and cliche, but he enjoyed just having a few hours to himself to relax and create something serene. It was the exact opposite of his brazen personality, which he never got a break from in real life. There were definitely times when he got frustrated– an incorrect colour, a smudge from the brush, or not being able to put his vision accurately on the canvas, but Katsuki still enjoyed his hobby. It certainly wasn’t something a stranger assumed would be his life goal, but he didn’t care. What type of life would he be living if he didn’t pursue the one thing that brought him genuine joy?

 

About halfway through, Uraraka brought everyone plates of snacks and drinks and encouraged them to take a break. Katsuki was in his zone, so he stayed focused on his canvas as the other participants chatted in the room around him.

“Bakugou, would you like some mochi?” Uraraka was standing next to the concentrated Katsuki, holding a tray of homemade treats. Katsuki didn’t answer her; he was concentrating on getting the colour of the sand right. It looked a little too orange for his liking, and the sand on the overlook was a lot more pale and yellow. He probably just needed to add more white to the mix-

“Bakugou!”

Uraraka plucked the brush from his left hand, and he paused, turning to look at her sharply. She smiled softly.

“That looks great so far,” she said. “You’ve clearly had some practice. Take a break and wash your hands. You’ve still got plenty of time to finish it. And from the looks of it, time won’t be a problem.”

Katsuki looked down at his hands. His forearms were dotted with reds, blues and oranges, looking very similar to how he turned out when he painted at home. Katsuki put the stained palette down and walked over to the sink, watching the paint dilute in the water and disappear down the drain.

Uraraka walked up behind him, still holding the tray. “Really, you should try one of these. I made them myself, and not to brag, but they’re pretty tasty!” 

There were green, pink and white mochi on the tray. Katsuki picked up the white one and bit into it. She wasn’t lying– it was delicious. But he swallowed it nonchalantly and wiped his hands off.

“It’s good,” was all he said before returning to his easel, picking his brush and paints back up. The painting was coming together as he envisioned it now.

The session was almost over when Katsuki was finishing up his painting. The colours of the sky were vibrant and alive and contrasted with the blue ocean he had created, split perfectly across the middle thanks to the tape. In the foreground was the metal fence over the lookout and Katsuki’s black car. There were soft outlines of two figures sitting on the roof- him and Deku, identically positioned as they were that morning. Katsuki was planning on adding their silhouettes to the picture. But ultimately, he grabbed one of the bigger brushes and painted over the thin strokes, erasing them from the artwork.

Deku was packing up his things, folding up his apron and returning the brushes he’d used to the sink. Katsuki hadn’t noticed initially, but he was wearing a white shirt when he came in. Even with the protection, it was now stained with colour. That was the first rule of painting- always wear a shirt you don’t mind getting dirty. The shirt Katsuki had picked was thankfully not one of his better ones, but he was more experienced and had managed to avoid getting any specks on his clothes. Most of his mess lived on his forearms, staining the short blond hairs.

Deku picked his artwork up from the easel and looked at it proudly. He turned it to Katsuki—it was a painting of one of Uraraka’s potted plants. It certainly looked amateurish, but Deku clearly had a basic understanding of how to create depth and lighting with the paints.

“Kacchan, what do you think?” Katsuki undid the knot around his waist and pulled off the apron. He studied the picture with his trained eye.

“It’s alright,” he mused. “You painted the foreground before the background, right? I can see the blue bleeding into the green.”

Deku turned the painting around to look at it again. He hid behind it as he faced Katsuki.

“Um, yeah. I didn’t plan that far in advance. I’m not as good as you.” Deku walked over to finally get a good look at Katsuki’s finished work, which he had been hiding over the last few hours. He gasped.

“Oh my God, Kacchan, that looks amazing!” he gushed. A few others noticed and peered over to observe Katsuki’s piece.

“Whoa!”

“That looks great!”

“What great composition!”

“I love the colours!”

 

Katsuki mostly ignored the praise as a group of people fawned over his artwork. He walked over to the hooks and pulled Deku’s bag and both their coats off. One girl turned around and identified him as the artist. She began walking over to him, a wide grin on her face.

“You’re really talented. What’s your name?” she asked.

“Why d’you wanna know,” Katsuki mumbled. He didn’t like getting attention, especially over his art. It was better when he showed off finished works; the admirers wouldn't know they were his.

“So I know who to look for when I need new artwork for my apartment!” she giggled, putting a hand on Katsuki’s crossed arms. He looked down at the contact and frowned.

“Bakugou,” he forced out. The girl’s face lit up.

“Ooo, you have such a nice name.” She pulled out her phone. “Why don’t you put your number in here, and we can talk more about-”

“Nope. Hey, Deku!” Katsuki called out to the green-haired boy in the crowd of people flocking around his easel. To his surprise, Deku’s eyes were already on him, slightly furrowed by his eyebrows.

“Let’s get outta here.”

After shouting a thank you to Uraraka, Deku quickly followed Katsuki as he left the house. Katsuki gave him his coat and bag, and Deku handed over his dried canvas. He put his own one in his bag, but it was a little too big, so the top peaked up over the cover. Katsuki held his under his arm, making sure the artwork was facing inward.

“So… what’d you think?” Deku asked nervously. He was clearly looking for Katsuki’s approval. Katsuki opened his mouth, but his stomach suddenly growled. With how long the painting session took, he had skipped lunch.

“I think I’m starving. Let’s get food.”

The city was starting to become less busy, and the afternoon calmness set in. Katsuki and Deku found a nice sushi train restaurant to sit in. There weren’t that many patrons, and the two of them sat comfortably in a booth in the back. They had been silent for a few minutes as they dug into their plates. Katsuki finished off one of his and then addressed the boy opposite him.

“Deku.”

Deku looked up from his food, holding a sushi roll between his chopsticks. His cheeks were full with rice and seaweed. He must’ve been as hungry as Katsuki was, but too shy to admit it.

Swallowing his food, he blinked at Katsuki. “Yeah?”

“Are you an idiot?”

Deku coughed suddenly, covering his face with his mouth. “W-What?!”

Katsuki pointed his chopsticks at Deku's chest. “Why’d you wear a white shirt when you knew we were going to be painting?”

Deku glanced down at his unbuttoned cardigan, showing the stained shirt underneath. He laughed a little. 

“Oh, I did it on purpose,” he smiled. “I intended for it to get messy. So when I wear it again, I’m reminded of this day! I thought it would be a nice keepsake.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “That’s so dumb. You’ve already got the damn painting. Why would you fuck up the shirt, too?”

“It’s not… effed up, Kacchan. I kinda like it with the paint. It adds character.”

Scoffing, Katsuki picked up a new sushi plate off the moving train and picked up his chopsticks. Deku wiped his mouth with a napkin.

 

“Kacchan, are you planning on doing anything for Halloween?”

Katsuki chewed, staring at Deku through his blond fringe. “What, you wanna match costumes? ‘Coz it’s not happening. You’re probably going as something stupid, like a sexy ghost.”

Deku flushed a bright shade of red. He pushed his hair back, showing his forehead and then let the locks drop back down.

“N-No! I-I’m not dressing up. It’s not really my thing. I was just curious if you were planning on doing something.”

Katsuki rolled a piece of sushi around his plate. “I dunno. Might go to a party. Halloween’s on a school night, so it won’t be anything that crazy.”

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of parties anyway.”

Katsuki shot him a mean look. “You weren’t invited.”

“I- Yeah, I know.” His dejected tone made Katsuki’s head throb. Why, every time? Every time he gets upset, why do I feel terrible? Is this what empathy is???

“Parties aren’t my scene either, to be honest.” Deku looked up to meet Katsuki’s eyes, which he made an effort to look less hostile. “I only really go because my friends do, plus there’s always free food. Can’t turn that down.”

Deku smiled, but it still looked sad. “You must get a lot of numbers, too.”

Katsuki scowled. Fucking Kaminari. “What? Who told you that?”

Those green irises had a far-away look in them. Katsuki wanted to grab Deku’s face and force him to keep his eyes on him.

“No one… No one told me. I just- I see it, you know? I see girls hitting on you all the time. At Sero’s party, school, and even that painting session.”

“That was one chick,” Katsuki protested. Deku raised an eyebrow.

“Did you really not notice? There were a lot of people trying to get your attention.”

Katsuki recalled all the interactions he’d had with the other participants. Most of them were people asking what colour combination he’d created or what technique he was using to create the strokes on his artwork. A few people had bumped into him, only to apologise immediately afterwards. Katsuki hadn’t sensed any sort of flirtation from any of them, but to be fair, he wasn’t exactly the expert in that realm.

 

Shaking his head, he leaned forward and lowered his voice to Deku. “I don’t know what you thought you saw, but I don’t give a fuck about that sort of stuff. You need to stop poking your nose into my business. First my bedroom, now this. What is your obsession with thinking I’m into girls? You jealous?”

Katsuki didn’t think Deku could get any redder, but his face was starting to resemble a bad sunburn. “I-I’m not obsessed. Or j-jealous. I’m just curious… If any of them caught your e-eye.”

Katsuki huffed. “Not really my type. Any of ‘em.”

Intrigued, Deku tilted his head up. “What is your type?”

Katsuki leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “That’s overstepping a bit, don’t you think, Deku?”

Deku must’ve looked away, because his apology was muffled. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

 

The two boys continued to eat in silence, filling up on sushi until they couldn’t eat anymore. Deku was avoiding eye contact again, and it was annoying Katsuki a lot. With his other friends, they could have minor spats and get back to talking normally in a heartbeat. But with Deku, he had to work back up to get the boy to be comfortable around him again. It usually involved putting some of his own feelings in the open air, which he didn’t like. But that heartbroken tone struck his heart every time he heard it. So Katsuki stacked his plates off to the side and put his clasped hands on the table.

“The thing is,” he started. Deku immediately looked up at the sound of his hushed voice. “I’ve never felt a connection to anyone like that before. I think if it were to happen, it’d have to be with someone I already have a bond with.”

Deku was listening intently. His eyes were swimming with curiosity. Katsuki felt his stomach twist at the personal words that he was revealing to Deku, but the boy knew he killed people in his free time. There wasn’t much Deku would judge him for. Katsuki could get over himself and tell him some of his inhibitions, too.

“It just has to be someone I can fully trust and be myself around,” he continued. “And since I’ve got… that part of my life I can’t tell anyone about, there isn’t really someone out there for me. No one will ever accept that I k- …eat raspberries. So I don’t even waste my time thinking about it.”

Deku nodded. “I see.” His arms were crossed on the table, and Katsuki detected a slight pink tint on his cheeks. 

“Don’t get the wrong idea, nerd,” he snorted. “You’re not special. You only know about the raspberries because you basically blackmailed me.”

“What?!” spluttered Deku. “I never blackmailed you!”

“Oh, please,” Katsuki sighed. “You know I’d never be around an underclassman unless it was against my will.”

“But I never said I would tell anyone you eat raspberries!” Deku protested. “Why did you ever doubt me?”

“Obviously because acceptance is not a normal reaction to finding out someone eats raspberries.” Katsuki was trying to keep his voice down, because despite the codeword, he was sure an outsider would find their conversation strange. “Can you really blame me for thinking you had other intentions?”

Deku sighed. “You know, it would have caused you a lot less stress if you just believed me outright.”

“It would have caused me a lot less stress if you just left me alone and fanboyed over me from a distance. You could have done all this without us ever having to interact.”

“Because that wouldn’t be creepy at all.” His green eyes rolled heavenwards. “Watching you at school and never saying anything to you is very normal behaviour.”

“You’re not one to talk about normal.” 

Deku crossed his arms. Katsuki was enjoying riling him up now. He gestured to the staff that the two of them were finished.

“Well, Deku, according to you, I’ve got plenty of admirers, right? You could’ve used that as an excuse to watch me,” Katsuki smirked. Deku’s harsh expression vanished instantly, and he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t be embarrassed, nerd. You’d fit right in.”

After paying for their food, the two boys returned to the town square towards Katsuki’s parent’s shop. The sun was starting to set, and Katsuki was grateful for the warm scarf wrapped around his shoulders. His cheeks and nose were starting to turn icy, and his fingers were jammed deep in his pockets.

“Did you drive here?” Katsuki asked Deku, who shook his head.

“I walked. It’s not too far.”

“Not too far?” Katsuki exclaimed. “I’ve been to your place twice now, moron. It’s like half an hour away at minimum.”

Deku shrugged. “I don’t mind the walk.”

Katsuki groaned and grabbed Deku’s arm, pulling him to the lot behind the shop. He ignored Deku’s protests and stormed over to his parked car, unlocking it with a beep. He walked over to his side, leaning over to instruct Deku.

“Get in. It’s too cold to walk.”

Over the hood, Katsuki saw Deku shake his mop of green curls. “You don’t have to drive me, Kacchan.”

Katsuki slammed the driver’s door shut and stomped back over. He practically stood on Deku’s toes from how close he was. Deku looked so small under his looming gaze, and he didn’t look up to face the boy above him.

“Deku. Get. In.” Katsuki ordered.

“...Why?”

“I already told you why, you goddamn idiot. It’s too fucking cold to walk back. And it’s nearly dark. I’ll just drive you.”

Deku looked off to the side, away from the car. “You don’t have to worry. I’m fine alone.”

“I’m not worried, ” sneered Katsuki. “It’s called common sense, which clearly you lack. You should be leaping into that car, it’s got a fucking heater and everything. Why do you seem so driven to want to kill yourself rather than accept help?”

There was silence between them for almost a minute. Neither one was going to let up. They were both stubborn and didn’t want to pull their heads out of the sand. But eventually, Deku sighed and put one hand on the door.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

 

 

 

Like most of their drives together, the journey home was silent. Katsuki didn’t even bother turning on the radio, because the music would disrupt the tension between him and Deku.

Katsuki got off the main road and turned into Deku’s neighbourhood. He had a few things to say but couldn’t get his mind to form the words. Pushing his hubris aside, he finally opened his mouth at the top of Deku’s street.

“Hey.”

It was the first word spoken in an otherwise heavy silence. Katsuki registered Deku turning to look at him, so he knew he was paying attention.

“I just wanted to say… thanks.”

 

Deku’s shaky breath reverberated in Katsuki’s head. He had never expressed appreciation this way to him before. It wasn't surprising that Deku felt shocked by the words.

“Today was cool. It was thoughtful of you to organise to do something I like. So… yeah. Thank you.”

Katsuki pulled up to Deku’s driveway, where the front porch light was flickering above the door. He parked the car and turned to Deku, who was still staring at him with a gaping mouth.

“Pick your jaw off the ground, you damn nerd. I’m not incapable of feeling gratitude.”

Deku closed his mouth, but his lips remained parted. Katsuki expected him to say his own thanks and then leave, but instead, the corners of his mouth turned into an impish smile.

“Oh, that’s okay, Kacchan,” he said, trying to subdue a giggle. “But next time, you don’t have to take 15 minutes to try and text me.”

It felt like a slap. Katsuki was the one whose jaw now hit the floor, and he felt his face heat up. Deku laughed.

“Yeah, I saw you typing in the chat this morning, and I thought I’d just put you out of your misery and text first.” Deku popped open the door and threw his bag over his shoulder. “Have a good night, Kacchan! Drive safe!”

 

As Deku disappeared inside his house, Katsuki realised that those eyes full of disgust he was so scared of never appeared once that day. In fact, it was the complete opposite. In each glance Katsuki had stolen of Deku’s soft face, he had looked at him with nothing but kindness. Katsuki was also planning on talking to him a bit more in-depth about his feelings surrounding their night of murder together. But that could wait for another time. The day was so pleasant that Katsuki had simply forgotten to bring it up.

Notes:

ok we’re kind of moving away from the murder now. it still matters to the story ofc but the next few chapters are a lot more of bkdk bonding and becoming friends (yes katsuki you are friends stop lying to yourself)

also i watched a bob ross video to help me write that painting scene and i swear if everyone just consumed bob ross videos daily the world would be a better place

Chapter 7: A Game

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=L2JmfXCFS7qwISJBAHej8w

heyooo!! this chapter is 6.7k words, which is honestly kinda crazy bc it felt a lot longer. still, i hope you enjoy it!

The sound of parties playing from videos on Katsuki’s phone filled the otherwise empty room. It was finally Halloween, one of the biggest nights of the year for most teenagers, desperate for an excuse to drink and dance on a school night. Yet here Katsuki was, in his room right before midnight, lying on his bed alone.

As he watched the videos that his friends had posted, he couldn’t muster up a sense of missing out. The revelry looked loud and chaotic, not something he was super interested in participating in. It wasn’t like it looked boring– his friends were certainly having fun. They were all dressed up in their costumes, some ridiculous, some more tame. The biggest stand out was Kaminari, who had apparently gotten the genius idea of cosplaying a giant traffic cone. It made him hard to miss, for sure.

Katsuki had, of course, been extended an invitation to this party, but when the agreed time came around, he made no effort to get up from his comfortable bed and prepare. Usually, he just went out of obligation, but something about this occasion didn’t spark any interest. Katsuki’s friends made no attempts to convince him to attend - if Katsuki wasn’t in the mood to come out, nothing in the world would change his mind. As the evening ticked away, he’d just lounged around his room, getting some schoolwork done before scrolling through his phone. His parents had returned from their short trip, but Katsuki hadn’t seen much of them as he remained locked upstairs.

His thumb hit the screen as he finished looking through all the pictures and videos that were popping up on his feed. Katsuki should have felt some feeling of exclusion or sadness for not going to see his friends. But he mostly just felt indifferent. It wasn't a secret that he didn’t enjoy parties like his classmates did. He’d even made it clear to Deku that he wasn’t so much a festive person.

 

Deku… His bizarre relationship with the boy seemed to be looking up. They had been exchanging a few more texts ever since their weekend out together, and at school, Katsuki was less hesitant to immediately glance away from Deku’s friendly eyes. It was still too much for Katsuki to actually speak to him around their classmates. Katsuki wasn’t sure of the exact reason. It was likely a culmination of all the conditioning he’d had through high school- the younger and older students didn’t interact unless absolutely necessary, and they certainly didn’t make friends with those outside their grade. Going against the grain wasn’t something Katsuki was eager to do. His friends, however, were still bugging him to invite Deku to more of their events ever since he’d come to the party at Sero’s house. But Katsuki was still trying to keep their relationship subdued. He had made a begrudging peace with the fact that he didn’t hate Deku’s company, and sometimes he even sought it out on his own. That didn’t mean he wanted to be around the boy 24/7. 

Along with the hierarchical norm of not talking to underclassmen, there was still a side of Katsuki who hated that Deku, so patient and understanding, was associating himself with someone like him. Someone who hurt others without reason. Deku wasn’t like that. He wasn’t a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and he didn’t have a secret sadistic side to him. Deku never laid a finger on anyone, and he probably never would. It just wasn’t in his nature. He was an observer, a bystander. And that was why his relationship with Katsuki was working. Deku was happy just to listen and learn while Katsuki did everything. The admiration he showed was unnerving sometimes, but it was genuine.

It was no wonder Katsuki felt at ease when he was around Deku. There was just something about him that made everyone want to relax. For Katsuki, that leisure went a step further, though. The mask he built to protect his true self didn’t exist around Deku. He never had to worry about saying the wrong words or accidentally revealing something that could get him in trouble. Deku knew about the darkest part of Katsuki’s soul. And he wasn’t doing anything to try and change it.

 

Katsuki had Deku’s number, but they hadn’t exchanged any sort of social media. He wasn’t sure if it was because Deku didn’t have it, but he was curious to see if he could find his account. Most students followed the school account for updates, so Katsuki started scrolling through the followers list to see if he could spot Deku’s account.

After reaching ‘I’, Katsuki recognised Deku’s stupid grin in his profile picture. He clicked on his profile and started reading. For one, his account was public, which was unheard of for Katsuki. He had turned his profile to private the second his friends forced him to get social media. Despite that, Deku didn’t have many followers. Katsuki frowned. Come to think of it, he never really mentioned any other friends. He was energetic and talkative around Katsuki, but to others, he was a lot more introverted. Well, unless alcohol was involved.

Scrolling down, Katsuki saw a large number of photos decorating Deku’s feed. There were a few selfies with bad lighting, making the shadows fall unevenly on Deku’s face. A couple of images of gardens and beach scenery, which Katsuki recognised as spots he often went to get painting inspiration. There was a nice picture of him and his mom that Katsuki remembered as his phone background. He couldn’t help but smile a little at how happy they looked. 

As he went further back to earlier posts, he saw a few shots taken by a much more professional camera than Deku’s blurry phone. They were all of Deku mid-jump or leap, and he was inside a stadium wearing a bright yellow uniform. All the posts were dated over two years ago, and Katsuki could automatically tell they were older because of how much younger Deku looked. His legs were very well defined, and he could see how toned he was when he examined an action shot that caught Deku’s shirt floating above his chest, showing off his stomach. He had definitely lost some of that firmer muscle, but it wasn’t like Deku was unfit now. Katsuki knew from observation he still had those skills, which, as he noted by looking at some more photos, had won him various awards. There was a picture of Deku on a podium, holding a first-place trophy with the caption: ‘Hase Junior Parkour Champion – Izuku Midoriya’. Even in the still image, Katsuki could feel the pride glowing off Deku’s face as he was captured in a moment of delight, waving to the stands and tears of joy flowing down his face. The feeling of pride also started to pool in Katsuki. These events had taken place years ago, but he couldn’t help feeling proud of Deku’s accomplishments.

 

Katsuki suddenly was filled with an immense urge to see Deku again. He wanted to talk to him, have conversations with him about anything that came to mind. He wanted to learn more about Deku, just like Deku had made it his mission to learn more about Katsuki. But what could they do? Katsuki checked the time– it was past midnight now. He was usually in bed by this hour, but he’d been struggling to fall asleep in this colder weather.

Would Deku be asleep? He wasn’t sure. Maybe the boy was a night owl. It would certainly explain the nights he’d been watching Katsuki from afar. It was completely within his reach to just text Deku and find out if he was awake or not, but that wasn’t how Katsuki did things. Instead, he changed into some warmer clothes and picked up his schoolbag that hung from the back of his chair. Unlocking his door, he sneaked downstairs and raided the pantry for some snacks. Katsuki was about to open the front door and leave when he turned back to face the dusty bookshelf in the living room. There was one more thing he had to grab.

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The lights to the Midoriya house were off, save for one. A glow emanated from the back right, leaking through the gate on the side. Deku’s house was a lot smaller than Katsuki’s - it was one story, and the only rooms were for Deku and his mother. Katsuki had never actually been inside his house yet, only going as far as the driveway to drop the boy off. Katsuki parked his car and shut the door quietly. He carefully opened the side gate, cringing at its rusty handle. It wasn’t very safe of the Midoriyas to keep their fence unlocked, but it did make it easier for Katsuki. He followed the soft light into the backyard, finding the wide window it was coming from. Katsuki peeked in, and through the barely drawn curtains, he saw Deku sitting at his desk, pen hanging off his bottom lip.

Good. He’s awake. Katsuki walked closer to the glass, creating a shadow in his room. Deku didn’t notice– he was much too focused on whatever was in front of him. Katsuki walked right up to his windowsill and tapped on the glass. Deku jolted and let out a muffled yelp at the sight of Katsuki, stumbling off his chair and onto the carpet. His hand shot over his mouth, and Katsuki couldn’t help but laugh.

Deku yanked the glass open, eyes frantic. In the immediate cold air, he gripped his arms, and his teeth knocked together as he whispered to Katsuki.

“Kacchan, what on earth are you doing here? It’s past midnight!!”

 

Katsuki ignored him and stepped over the brick wall into Deku’s warm room. He shut the window behind him and closed the blinds. He finally got to observe Deku’s space, which was about as nerdy as he could imagine. The desk was covered in worksheets and small drawers which held stray papers inside. His bed was a lot smaller than Katsuki’s, but it was also a lot messier. Piles of clothes sat at the foot of his mattress, and the pillows were out of place on the headboard.

Next to his bed, there was a small shelf that held a myriad of awards and certificates. Katsuki recognised the championship trophy sitting on the top shelf, but there were plenty of other medals, too. The closet door doubled as a mirror, so Katsuki saw himself when he looked over, and he also saw Deku standing awkwardly behind him as his room continued to be scrutinised. The last thing Katsuki glanced at was a large wooden bookshelf next to Deku’s door, with dozens of books shoved tightly on each shelf. There wasn’t a free space anywhere, and it looked like Deku had started to store the rest of the books he owned on the top. The piles touched the ceiling. Even Katsuki couldn’t reach that high.

 

“Kacchan, you have to at least give me a reason for coming into my room in the middle of the night.”

Deku was still standing behind Katsuki, fidgeting against his desk. He was shifting from foot to foot, covering his laptop with his body. Katsuki reached behind him and picked up the computer, pulling the charger from the side. Deku gasped.

“H-Hey, give that back!” His voice was trying to be firm, but he was also keeping it quiet, probably so as not to disturb his mother. Katsuki didn’t feel like explaining his presence to Deku’s mom, so he also made sure not to speak so loudly.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, nerd?” he teased, holding the laptop far above Deku’s hands. He was grasping at air, jumping to try and get it back, but he was no match for Katsuki’s long arms.

“Kacchan!” pleaded Deku. The sulk on his face made Katsuki’s chest throb. It was so endearing and made him want to rile Deku up more.

“Why don’t you want me to see?” Katsuki taunted. He looked up at the screen to read it but couldn’t focus on the words as Deku pestered him below. “Is it porn? I bet you’re into some freaky shit.”

“No, Kacchan!” Deku whined, red in the face from the vulgar suggestion. He suddenly jumped up on his bed, at eye level with Katsuki’s hands. He snatched the laptop from Katsuki’s grasp and closed the lid, putting it back down where it belonged. He turned around, leaning against his desk, and crossed his hands over his chest. “Y-you can’t just take people’s stuff without asking! And you still haven’t told me why the heck you’re in my room at nearly 1 in the morning!!”

Katsuki smirked. Deku was trying his hardest to look mad, but it was kind of challenging to take him seriously. With his soft pink cheeks and round eyes, Deku’s scowl was coming off more as a pout, and it didn’t look intimidating in the slightest. It was probably more akin to getting scolded by a bunny.

 

Shrugging his shoulders, he sat on Deku’s bed, sinking into the soft mattress. “Just wanted to see what you were up to. So what were you looking at?”

Deku’s frustrated look faded, and he seemed shocked. “You wanted to– what if I was asleep?”

Katsuki flopped onto his back and groaned. “Then I would’ve fuckin’ left, Deku. I’m not a creep who would watch someone while they’re sleeping. But you’re awake, so get over it.”

He heard soft footsteps walk over to the bed, and Deku sat against the headboard, knees curled up to his chest. “I was doing writing for my psychology class. I meant to go to bed a while ago, and I have some other things to do…” He gestured at the neglected clothes at the end of the bed. “But it’s really important for this essay I’m working on, so I’ve gotta get it done.”

“What are you writing about?” Katsuki didn’t take psychology. Too much analysing and trying to find patterns that weren't there. But he knew Deku liked it and wanted to hear him talk about it.

Deku sighed. “You’ll laugh… but our subject this semester is serial killers.”

Katsuki did laugh, a dry one that emphasised how ridiculous their situation was. “Oh, wonderful. Well, Deku, you’ve got the perfect subject right in front of you. I’m sure knowing an actual murderer is helping you with your grades.”

 

Katsuki didn’t even stop to think about whether it was safe to discuss the subject here. Sure, it was only the two of them, and it was the middle of the night, but Katsuki always thought before opening his mouth about his crimes – was anyone around? Was there a chance of being recorded? Would someone walk in on the conversation and deduce what they were speaking about? But despite that, he felt comfortable in Deku’s room, just as he did in his own. No doubts of Deku’s loyalty entered his mind, and there were no suspicions of his words being used against him. This was what trust was, and he had never felt it before. To not have to worry felt… nice. 

 

Deku’s voice was solemn. He wasn’t joking around like Katsuki was when he spoke. “I haven’t used anything about you in my work, Kacchan. I wouldn’t dream of putting a single detail in that might incriminate you. I promise.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes and sat up. Deku’s dark hair was casting shadows over his face, and his lips were firmly sealed in a tight line.

“Oi, loosen up, Deku,” Katsuki frowned. “I was only kidding. I know you wouldn’t do that shit.”

Deku relaxed, but his arms were still gripping his knees. He looked so small. Katsuki realised this was his fault; the constant incredulity he’d laid out on Deku made him think he was untrustworthy, and had to continuously prove he was on Katsuki’s side. Annoyance built up inside him. Deku was right, as usual. It would have caused him much less headache to just believe the boy on his devotion from the start.

 

“So… are you just here to… check on me?” Deku asked slowly. Katsuki shook his head and walked over to the window.

“No. I’m here to sneak you out. Come for a drive.”

“What?” Deku gasped. “Are you serious?”

“Obviously. I didn’t come out here to make a joke.”

Deku rubbed his hands from his knees to his ankles. “I- I, uh, I’ve just… I’ve never been asked that before. No one’s ever said this to me…”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “Surely people have asked you to hang out, at least.” Deku didn’t respond, continuing to brush his rough hands over his legs.

“Get off your ass, Deku,” Katsuki huffed. “Is it so hard to believe I wanna hang out with you?”

“But… Kacchan, sure there are other things you could be doing…” muttered Deku. “Like parties and stuff…”

“If I wanted to go to those, I’d be there,” Katsuki asserted. “But I’m not there because I didn’t wanna go. I want to go now, with you. So stop second-guessing and get up before I change my mind, dork.”

Deku lightened up at that, climbing off the bed. “Alright. I’ll go. Should I- I mean, should I wear something else?”

Katsuki glanced at his outfit. It was just a black T-shirt and shorts. Not appropriate for the weather at all. He scoffed.

“Yeah, if you don’t want to fucking freeze to–” Katsuki stopped dead when he realised what Deku was wearing. What he thought was just a generic black shirt was actually the band shirt Sero lent him, which he also insisted that he keep. It was far too big on him; even though Deku had shoved some of it into his waistband, the black fabric still reached his knees. For whatever reason, the sight of Deku in it made him furious.

“Um, are you alright, Kacchan?”

Katsuki inhaled sharply through his teeth. “You’ve gotta give that shirt back. It’s not yours, and it doesn’t even fit.”

Deku looked down and pinched the shirt. “Oh, that’s right. This is your friend’s shirt. I totally forgot.” He slid open his closet door and pulled out a thick grey jacket and a simple white shirt. It was the paint-stained one he wore the last time Katsuki saw him. Deku pulled the black shirt over his head and gave it to Katsuki, who was still fuming internally. He ripped the bag off his back and shoved the shirt down to the bottom so he didn’t have to look at it.

Deku didn’t seem to notice the aggression in his movements, and he zipped up his jacket. “Tell Sero I’m sorry I didn’t return it sooner. I really don’t remember much of that night.”

Katsuki kept his mouth shut as Deku retrieved a pair of bright red shoes from his closet. Once he was ready, he stuffed pillows under his covers to give the faint illusion that he was sleeping and turned off all the lights. Katsuki opened the window, and Deku followed him out, standing on the lawn. The harsh night wind hit them both in the face, but they were used to it at this point.

“So, what are we gonna do?” whispered Deku. Katsuki shot him a grin, patting the bag on his shoulder.

 

“I brought Scrabble. We need to have a rematch.”

 

For the first time, the drive between Katsuki and Deku was filled with conversation. Deku had relaxed a lot once they were in the car, driving down the empty streets. It was like the two of them were the only people in the world. All the houses were asleep, and the city of Hase was theirs to explore. Katsuki eventually pulled into the town square and found a parking spot near the grass. He parked the car but left the engine running so they could use the light and the heater. Deku unclipped his seatbelt and turned to Katsuki with an anticipating smile.

“What now, Kacchan?”

Katsuki got out of the car, telling Deku to stay where he was. He walked over to the backseats and pushed them down, creating a flat surface for the two boys to sit on. Once it was in place, Deku climbed over the passenger seat and sat crosslegged while Katsuki pulled the gameboard out of his bag and set it up.

“Don’t think you’re gonna win this time, Deku,” Katsuki warned. “I’m going to crush you into dust.”

Deku grinned. “You really think you can go against someone you’ve called a nerd about a thousand times?”

Once they had that competitive spirit lit in them both, it was as if nothing else mattered. The game started, and Katsuki reached into his bag, pulling out the snacks and drinks he’d packed for the both of them. Deku picked up one box and raised his eyebrows.

“Pocky?” he giggled. “Don’t tell me you’re a fan of the pocky challenge, Kacchan? 

Katsuki ripped open a bag of chips. “In your dreams, Deku.” He liked this side of him. When they could banter and talk without worrying about what others thought, Katsuki felt a little better. He had never intended to become close to Deku. He wanted to keep him at arm’s length, only acknowledging him as a nuisance. But now, things had changed dramatically. 

 

Deku went first. His starting word was ‘mellow’. Katsuki was deep in thought, concentrating on the game and his own racing mind. However relaxed he felt around Deku, it couldn’t erase the guilt that lived in his stomach and occasionally reared its ugly head. Could he really lose himself in this short fantasy, playing games with Deku as if they had always been friends? Katsuki fidgeted with a tile. He made the word ‘soar’, all one-point letters. Deku chuckled.

“Not starting off strong, Kacchan.” He had the notepad next to him, twisting the pencil around his fingers. Katsuki blew a raspberry, and Deku groaned in disgust. 

As their game continued, Katsuki couldn’t help as his mind wandered to other topics. Sometimes, Deku would take too long to decide what word he was going to put down, or they’d take a short break to eat the snacks in their arsenal. But whenever Katsuki started to get a little too comfortable, guilt pooled in his gut again. Katsuki recalled how he had treated Deku and how unfair he’d been.

He had built up a pretty solid layer of caution in his life to prevent anyone from getting too close to him. If anyone pierced that layer, Katsuki risked them finding out about his deadly actions. It had been robotic for so many years now. Even so, Katsuki had allowed Deku to break through the facade and see the person he was underneath. It was natural for Katsuki to feel a little uneasy about someone being aware of his deepest secret, but he knew he had taken it too far on some occasions. Forcing Deku to repeatedly prove his commitment when his paranoia was at an all-time high was wrong. If there was one thing Deku wasn’t, it was a backstabber. Katsuki trusted him now, and he had to believe in the trust wholeheartedly.

As he gazed at Deku’s focused face, Katsuki recalled the twisted expression of fear that he had on his face when he took advantage of his desire to prove himself. Shame pinched his heart as Katsuki remembered his demands for Deku to remove his clothes, exposing himself against his will. He knew it was manipulative of him to do, and Katsuki felt bitter chagrin over his actions. He knew so little about Deku and couldn't deny any longer that he wanted to get to know him better. But how could Katsuki deserve to have Deku open up to him after he had mistreated him so much? He should be telling Katsuki to get out of his sight and never talk to him again. But Deku wasn’t that kind of person. He always held his head high, and he forgave easier than most. Nevertheless, Katsuki had to make it up to him. Apologies weren't his thing, ever. A lot of people would say that the sky would turn neon green before Katsuki issued a formal apology to anyone. But the visceral remorse was eating him alive. He’d never felt this way about anyone before. He never had this longing to learn about someone more than he had to. And he’d also never felt so apologetic before, either.

 

“Your turn.” Katsuki snapped up and saw that Deku had put down the word ‘jukebox’, and the X landed on a triple letter score. If he didn’t pay attention, he was going to lose again. Katsuki might owe Deku an apology, but he wasn’t just going to let the nerd win.

“You don’t look like your focus is on the game, Kacchan,” Deku teased. He had moved himself to lay flat, legs kicking in the air and chin resting on his hands. He stuck his tongue out at Katsuki, who scoffed.

“I’m going to pull the rug right out from underneath you, Deku.” Katsuki analysed his tiles and tried to make a word.

Then there was that dumb nickname. Deku. Katsuki still had no idea what it meant. He had tried to force the definition out of Mina, but she kept her mouth a locked vault. Katsuki couldn’t break the habit now, though. If he imagined saying Deku’s real name, the thought of it rolling off his tongue was alien. Deku was just so much easier for Katsuki to say. As a test, he mouthed ‘Izuku Midoriya’ under his breath. Nope. It didn’t sound any better out loud.

“What’d you say, Kacchan?” Deku asked. Katsuki frowned at being caught.

“I’m thinking of words to put down, loser,” he snapped back. His tiles were not very good, and there were no spaces that were going to give him a good score. But a couple of letters formed the outline of a word that he needed to say out loud. So Katsuki grabbed his tiles and spelled out the word ‘sorry’.

 

After Deku read the word, he laughed softly. “I didn’t know you knew how to spell that.” He was only joking, of course, but guilt engulfed Katsuki once more. He stared Deku in the eyes, face solemn. Deku changed his expression to concern.

“Everything alright?” he asked sincerely. His tenderness made Katsuki feel more humiliated. How could he have taken advantage of Deku, the most honest and caring person he’d ever met? He really was a rotten piece of work. Katsuki inhaled, ready to apologise.

“Deku, I wanted to say to you… I’m sorry.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence, and he saw Deku’s green eyes widen in shock. He couldn’t blame him.

“I’ve been an asshole to you even though you’ve done nothing but be understanding of me,” croaked Katsuki. Despite drinking just a few minutes ago, his throat was bone dry. “I’ve made you prove your trust over and over again when I should have just believed you from the beginning.”

It could have just been the moonlight, but Katsuki swore he saw tears forming in the corners of Deku’s giant, unblinking eyes. His bottom lip trembled as he spoke.

“Oh, Kacchan, you don’t have to worry,” he consoled. “You’re holding onto the scariest secret ever. If it got out, your life would be ruined. I understand why you were so suspicious of me, and that’s why I never took it to heart when you were accusatory. You were just doing what you had to do.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He wanted Deku to get mad and say the apology was overdue and that he shouldn’t have done what he did in the first place. But this was Deku. Patience and grace were sewn into his soul.

“It’s not- Don’t excuse my behaviour,” Katsuki retorted. “I did some scummy shit. For fuck’s sake, I made you-” He couldn’t get the words out. He gestured to Deku’s clothes. “I made you… expose yourself. That’s fucked up.”

“Kacchan, I’m not upset about it. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. It’s assault and it’s horrible. My fucking paranoia flooded my mind and I took advantage of you and it was wrong and I won’t ever do it again. You don’t have to accept my apology, Deku.”

Deku sighed. “But I do accept it, Kacchan. And you have to accept that I forgive you. Please don’t think you… assaulted me.”

Katsuki scowled. “You looked like you were about to piss yourself when I told you to take off your jacket. You were obviously scared.”

His eyes darted away. “Well… I was a little… intimidated, I guess. I just felt inferior because I’m just… me, and you’re, well, you know.”

Narrowing his eyes, Katsuki took note of the soft flush of red on Deku’s face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Deku picked at his nails. “W-Well… you’re… you look a lot b-better than me. Um… body wise. I kinda feel… like a stick next to you. S-So that’s why I might’ve come off scared.”

Katsuki felt a heat creep up his chest and up to the back of his neck. Deku was comparing himself? Katsuki couldn’t understand why. Objectively, Deku looked fine. He was well built, he had that soft and trusting look on his face, and his features were nice enough. His viridescent eyes were big and glossy, he had those appealing freckles littered across his cheeks and his smile reached high on his cheekbones. A stick? Katsuki wouldn’t call him that. Deku’s physique was still quite toned, even if he wasn’t as active as he once used to be. His arms were pretty thin, yes, but his legs were pretty strong; he had powerful calves and sturdy, round thighs–

 

OK, whoa. Dial it back a little. When did Katsuki start to notice so many smaller details on Deku’s body? He was still looking at the boy opposite him, nervously waiting for a response. 

“You realise that compared to me, you’re the athlete, right?” he said, hoping Deku wouldn’t notice the wobble of embarrassment in his voice. “All I do is the mandatory sports shit at school and run around the city at night.”

Deku smiled a little, braces glistening in the light. “Then consider me just envious you were blessed with good genes, Kacchan.” He picked up a tile. Katsuki had honestly forgotten they were still playing the game.

“No,” Katsuki said sternly. “I need to understand.”

Deku sighed, a little exasperatedly. “Understand what, Kacchan?”

“Why you’re OK hanging out with me after everything I’ve done. Like, I get that you accept that I have my shitty impulses, and you don’t care that I’ve killed people. But I don’t know why you want to be around me. I’m dangerous. Doesn’t it bother you at all?”

Deku simply shook his head. “It doesn’t. And even if you disagree, I still think that what you’re doing is for the greater good. Whether it's against your will or not.”

Katsuki leaned his cheek on his fist. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you.”

He nodded this time. “Trust me, Kacchan, if there was something about you I didn’t like, I would know about it by now. There isn’t much you can tell me that’s more incriminating than murder.”

Katsuki pursed his lips. “Apparently, me apologising is more unbelievable than that.”

Deku chuckled. “I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to say that. You might’ve thought I would look down on you. But I promise, I don’t. I still think you’re as amazing as the first day I met you, Kacchan.” He cheekily cocked his head to the side. “Now, if you fully understand me, can we get back to me beating you at Scrabble?”

That drew a real laugh out of Katsuki. “Beating me? Over my dead body. I won’t lose again, Deku.”

 

Katsuki tried not to question Deku anymore as his subconscious drifted more. It wasn’t like he could just ignore his thoughts, so he at least tried to throw out the illogical ones and bring the rational ones to the front of his mind. The mask Katsuki wore was impossible to put on around Deku. There was no reason to even pick it up. The boy knew his darkest secret and willingly continued to be in his company. If that didn’t mean acceptance, nothing in the world did.

They continued to play Scrabble, dwindling down to the last few tiles. The banter resumed. They were still arguing over the legality of some words, and Deku was showing off his math skills with the notepad. When they had come down to the last few turns, Katsuki looked at the game board. It was filled to the brim, and only short words would fit now. In his final turn, Deku made the word ‘wire’. He was mumbling to himself about the low score and how he’d need to think more creatively. Katsuki swallowed hard.

“Hey, Deku.”

He looked up, clutching his bottom lip between his fingers. “What’s up?”

“Can I tell you about something?”

Deku smiled gleefully and nodded. “Of course, Kacchan! What is it?”

Suppressing his urge to groan, Katsuki adjusted his position in the car so he was lying down and facing the ceiling. “I wanted to tell you about the first time I… killed someone. If you want to hear it.”

Deku leaned over, and his face entered into Katsuki’s vision. “Obviously! What kind of question is that?”

Even if Katsuki accepted that Deku liked him for who he was, crimes and all, he didn’t think he would ever get used to Deku’s giddiness when discussing the brutal topic of homicide. He took a deep breath as he recalled the memory. It still stung a little when he thought about it, so he decided to keep the details to a minimum.

“I was 14. I was walking home by myself. It was during the, uh… the fall festival, I think.” He looked at his palms—two thin, light scars served as permanent reminders of the event. “Some drunk asshole tried to rob me in an alley. I probably should have just ran, but I was a stubborn bastard.”

“Was?” joked Deku. Katsuki reached up and poked him on the forehead.

“Shut up. Anyway, the guy had a knife, and he tried to stab me. I fought him off, but when I shoved him away from me, he got injured in the fall. I… I watched him bleed out. I didn’t do anything to help. And that’s when I first felt the… feeling. My body started to crave that high, and it wouldn’t come back until I saw someone die again.”

Deku was staring at him, fascinated. “That is so interesting, Kacchan. So, the first time was an accident?”

“Yeah. Luckily, someone who lived there had a camera facing the alley, so when the police came, there was proof it was self-defence.”

Deku tapped his lip again. “So, so interesting. I can’t believe that an accident was the catalyst for all this. I wonder if anything else would have initiated it…”

“Oi.” Katsuki sat up, barely avoiding headbutting Deku. “I’m not your psychology project or something to analyse. That’s how it happened, and nothing’s gonna change that.”

“Sorry, Kacchan,” Deku said sheepishly. “I get out of hand sometimes. But I don’t see you as a project; really, I don’t. I just think of you as a human.”

 

Katsuki was stunned into silence. A human? Maybe he looked it. But Katsuki had lost his right to call himself that a long time ago. He lowered his voice when he addressed Deku again.

“I’m not a human,” he murmured. “I’m- I can’t call myself that anymore. I’m a monster.”

Deku gasped softly. “No, Kacchan, you aren’t. Don’t say that, please.”

“It’s true,” he shot back. “I don’t get to call myself a human after all I’ve done.”

“It’s not true,” argued Deku. “Kacchan, you might think you’ve lost your right to compassion, but I think you’re more in touch with your humanity than you think.”

Humanity? Katsuki didn’t understand. Deku was seeing sides to him that weren’t there. What positive qualities could possibly outshine the fact that he had committed murder?

At Katsuki’s silence, Deku continued. “Kacchan, you might act like you don’t give a… a shit about anyone but yourself.” 

Katsuki’s eyes perked. It was the first time Deku had cursed around him.

“But I know that’s just the exterior you put on. You care about other people, Kacchan. You care about me. You drive me home, even when I’m stubborn and you have to force me. You were looking out for me at the party, even when it didn’t affect you in any way. You care to take me out to do nice things, when you could be doing anything else. I know you notice things others don’t. You noticed when my bruise was better, even though you barely knew me. When we went to the slums, you picked out a spot for me to hide that you knew I would have a good view. And  I know you say we’re not friends, but you have to realise that what you and I have… it has to be something close to that, right?”

 

Katsuki still didn’t say anything. The flattery was falling on deaf ears. Deku waited a few moments for a response, but Katsuki’s lips stayed shut. He sighed and opened his mouth again.

“Kacchan, you create art, something only a human can do,” Deku went on. “You’re so, so talented. You do whatever your heart desires, and you do it at full force. Your hands, which can just as easily grip a weapon and take life… also have the power to create beautiful things. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen the side of you that’s warm and caring, the tenderness your hands hold. I can’t believe you’re a true monster, Kacchan. Not after all you’ve shown me.”

Now Katsuki was clenching his fist, squeezing so tightly that his nails would surely leave indents in his palms. The number of optimistic things Deku had said about him was more than he had ever heard in his life. It was overwhelming. He didn’t even have the strength to argue. It was like he was winded, panting heavily to try and catch the breath Deku had taken from him.

“Deku, I’m not-” But the boy cut him off. 

“Please. You don’t have to agree with what I’m saying. I know it must be hard for you to internalise. But please, Kacchan. Don’t call yourself a monster. You don’t have to think of yourself that way.”

Deku was indeed stubborn. He was persistent in his beliefs and had a way with words that made Katsuki want to accept everything he said as fact. But he couldn’t right now. In his own eyes, Katsuki was a devil. In Deku’s eyes, Katsuki was a person. Their gaze wouldn’t meet until one of them changed their viewpoint on the other. Katsuki pushed down the lump in his throat, giving the simplest answer he could muster.

“OK.”

 

Deku let out a breath, a shaky and distraught exhale that Katsuki could almost feel on his face. His eyes were fluttered shut, letting his long eyelashes cast tiny shadows on his cheeks. Katsuki looked down at their forgotten game. It was probably nearly about time the two of them headed back. They both had school the next day, and the atmosphere was thick with heavy emotions. Katsuki certainly had his own thinking to do and a lot of reflecting on how he felt about Deku. But he wasn’t one to let a game go unfinished. Katsuki glanced at his letters, seeing a word he could make. He quickly re-arranged his tiles. With some swift adding, Katsuki knew the score he’d get. 

“Oi, Deku.”

Green eyes opened slowly and glanced from Katsuki’s face to the board. He read the word Katsuki had made: ‘stubborn’. It landed on a triple word score. Katsuki grinned victoriously.

 

“I win.”

 

Notes:

HEY UA! BAKUGOU KATSUKI IS NOT A MONSTER!!!!!!!!

Chapter 8: A Camaraderie

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=5iGxvzfiRp-DoRptIFhUag

HEYOO!! this chapter was a challenge to finish But i managed to hit my word count!! its 11.1k words, happy reading!!

When Katsuki, Kaminari, and Kirishima stepped out for lunch, the cafeteria line was already long. They collectively groaned, shuffling to join the queue for their food. A large menu of different smells wafted through the air, making the hungry boys' mouths water.

“Fucking first years,” Kaminari grumbled. “They’re all too small and they run too fast. We should be allowed to just kick them out of the way.”

“Hey, they can hear you,” said Kirishima. “You’re starting to sound like Bakugou.”

“Huh?” Katsuki wasn’t really listening. He was keeping an eye on the tray of yakimeshi, gritting his teeth every time a younger student took a bowl of it away.

“The difference is I won’t actually do anything to a kid,” Kaminari replied. “Bakugou would have a pile of beaten students in his court if it was legal.”

Katsuki scoffed. “You’re gonna join that pile if you don’t shut your mouth.” 

“Oh, but I know an underclassman you wouldn’t lay a finger on!” He poked Katsuki in the arm. “You’ve been talking to Midoriya more, haven’t you?”

He pushed the boy away, knocking him into another student. “Shut up. As if that’s any of your business.”

 

Katsuki had gotten used to acknowledging Deku when he saw him in the hallways. It was nothing too serious, just a passing wave or a nod of the head. Sometimes, they exchanged a few words before getting rushed off to their respective classes. It wasn’t as strange for Katsuki to interact with Deku now. But to outsiders, this was an oddity. Katsuki had a reputation for hating all the grades below him, so why was he talking to an underclassman? What could he possibly want with him?

Rumours went from Katsuki intimidating Deku into doing something for him to Deku being a young stalker with a crush. Well, he’s definitely the first one. The two of them ignored most of the theories, not engaging in any of the gossip to avoid adding fuel to the fire. Katsuki was frightening enough that no one would dare question it to his face, and Deku couldn’t care less about what others said about him. Both of them didn’t let it get to them.

 

It had been just over a month and a half since they had met through unconventional circumstances. Deku had indeed been hanging out with Katsuki a lot. The esoteric secret they shared was keeping them bound to each other, but Katsuki found himself wanting to be around Deku more and more. It was usually just on the weekends when Katsuki had time off from work; occasionally, Katsuki would tell him to come over in the dead of night if he really wanted some company. They sometimes went for food, but most of the time, Deku just snuck in through the window, and they chilled out in Katsuki’s room, studying and getting work done. On multiple occasions, they had chatted away the night, panicking when the sun began to rise and Deku had to quickly run back to his home before his mother noticed he was missing. It was amusing to see the boy act like he wasn’t exhausted at school the following day. Katsuki was getting increasingly relaxed around him. Frustratingly, there was still a doubtful side of him, one that still questioned why Deku hung around him and thought about whether Deku would continue to accept everything he’d done or would one day change his mind and leave Katsuki behind.

The paranoia was so bad that Katsuki refused to even call Deku his friend out loud. He hadn’t actually said the words to anyone but himself in his mind. He knew it wasn’t fair to Deku. He had tried so hard to break Katsuki out of his mental fortress and force him to understand that Deku was on his side, no matter what. Even with all the reassurance, Katsuki had his scepticism, but at least he was getting better at ignoring the irrational thoughts. Calling Deku a friend was the bare minimum he could do to repay him for all the support he’d shown him, but Katsuki really struggled with admitting it aloud. It wasn’t like he didn’t believe it, but for someone to hear him accept that he wanted Deku’s friendship was like accepting that he had opened his stone heart to another. Katsuki was rude and closed off. To others, he was nothing more than a brash, petulant boy who didn’t care about anyone but himself. Welcoming Deku into his life as an equal might make him look weak or bring up uncomfortable questions. Plus, there were the ramifications for Deku. Would people start harassing him to try and chip information about Katsuki out of him? Would they assume Katsuki was forcing him to stick around him against his will? He had a lot of concerns, but he knew Deku well enough by now. He was loyal and wouldn’t be lured into perfidy so easily. Regardless of whether he couldn’t or wouldn’t admit it, Katsuki knew that Deku was his friend. And he deserved to hear it from Katsuki’s own mouth.

After waiting in line and scooping up the last remnants of lunch, Katsuki and his friends dodged the younger students to walk out onto the grass and sit at their shady spot under the school’s largest tree. Before they got there, a familiar call made Katsuki’s ears perk up, and he spun around.

“Kacchan!”

Holding his tray was Deku, jogging slightly to catch up with Katsuki. Katsuki could feel some of the tension in his muscles vanish as the boy got closer.

“Hey, how are you? I haven’t seen you at all today! I was–” Deku’s eyes went saucer-like when he saw Kaminari and Kirishima beside him. They were watching the underclassman with wide grins.

“Oh– s-sorry, I didn’t know you were with other people,” Deku stammered. He turned to leave, but Kaminari handed his tray to Kirishima and threw an amiable arm around the younger boy’s shoulders.

“Midoriya, we haven’t seen you in ages!” he exclaimed. “Where have you been? Have you been hiding away with Bakugou this whole time?”

Deku wobbled on his feet, trying not to spill his food. “I-I’ve been around! Just kind of busy, I suppose! I’m sorry, I can leave if you–”

“No, stay!” Kaminari urged. “Sit with us! We’ve got the best spot in the school to eat! Up on that hill, by the tree!”

Deku looked at Katsuki for approval, but all the blond did was shrug his shoulders.

“It is a pretty sweet spot, Deku. Come on.”

The four of them sat under the looming tree, gaps of sunlight making patterns on their dark clothes. Deku, avoiding any eye contact, looked extremely out of place. Katsuki thought it was slightly endearing how obvious it was that he wanted to make a good impression.

“So–” Kaminari shoved an onigiri roll into his mouth, flicking specks of rice as he spoke. “How did you two even become friends? Has he been keeping you a secret for a while? Bakugou still won’t tell us anything about you.”

Deku tried to keep a poker face, brushing the thick strands of hair out of his eyes. Katsuki could tell from his expression that he was nervous. His emotive brows twitched as he tried not to look too scared of the question, and his lips were tightly sealed so his mouth didn’t morph into a frown. When Deku spoke, there was a hint of anxiety in his tone that no one other than Katsuki would have been able to pick up.

“Well, we haven’t known each other for very long. Nothing compared to you guys. Um… when we met, I just found out we had a few shared interests,” he said, hands tightly folded in his lap. 

“Like what?”

He flinched. “Uh, we’re both into–”

“Psychology.” Katsuki took over. Deku was passable, but Katsuki was a much better liar.  “He was working on some psychology shit in the library one day, and I thought it looked interesting. So I asked him to explain it to me. Now we hang out. That’s all there is to it.”

“Y-yeah!” Deku nodded his head in agreement. “I’m always at the library. I prefer the silence. I was pretty shocked to see Kacchan in there, but I was happy to talk to him about my work!”

“That’s so weird,” Kirishima mused. “I thought you hated psych. You always used to say it was the most boring subject this school offered. And I didn’t know you’d even set foot in the school library.”

Fuck Kirishima and his picture-perfect memory. The bastard was good for Katsuki when he had zoned out during class, and Kirishima was there to relay the information he’d missed. Other than that, he had a nasty habit of annoyingly piping up only for the purpose of contradicting Katsuki.

 

“People can change their mind, you dumbass,” he muttered in response. 

“So you’re finally embracing your nerd side, Bakugou?” teased Kaminari. “Wait till everyone finds out there’s a total dork underneath that emo exterior!”

Katsuki roughly pushed him, and he playfully rolled down the hill, stopping at the bottom and looking up in dismay. Kirishima and Deku laughed at his ruffled face, green shards of grass poking out of his otherwise bright blonde hair.

“Midoriya, would you come hang out with us this weekend?” Kirishima asked. “You were a lot of fun at the party, man! And on Saturday, we’re all going to an arcade, so you should tag along with us!”

Deku broke out into a beaming smile, forcing his green eyes to squint and his eyebrows to disappear under his fringe. “Oh, a-are you sure?” He glanced back at Katsuki for permission. “Is it really OK?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “You don’t need my goddamn blessing, dweeb. You can come if you want. I’ll be there too.”

Deku grinned, addressing Kirishima again. “OK. I’ll come. Thank you for inviting me!” He was giddy with excitement, almost trembling as his smile reached high on his cheekbones. It made Katsuki feel like smiling too, and he might’ve even let himself do it if it were not for the company of Kirishima and Kaminari.

“You don’t need to thank us, Midoriya!” Kaminari pat him on the back, still trying to pluck grass from his clothes. “We’re your new friends, after all! We’ve gotta get you out of that dull-ass library somehow!”

Deku smiled, but his face suddenly dropped in shock. “Oh– Crap!” He suddenly stood up, grabbing his food and facing the school. “ I was supposed to help one of the teachers with the new printer they set up! I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go!”

Deku ran off, leaving the other boys stunned. Kirishima laughed softly.

“That’s one dedicated student. He’s so adorable.”

Katsuki felt his blood boiling. It always felt strange when Deku left his side, even if it wouldn't be for very long. It was like he was a puzzle, and Deku was his last remaining piece. Without him, Katsuki felt unfinished. He rose to his feet and followed Deku, who was scraping off the remainder of his lunch into the trash.

 

“A printer, huh?” smirked Katsuki. “That’s a new excuse.”

Deku looked up, doe eyes glancing over Katsuki’s face. “No, I– I wasn’t lying. I promised one of the teachers I’d help them out, since they know I’m good with technology and stuff. I did want to stay with you guys, Kacchan.”

Katsuki snatched his empty tray, tossing it onto the evergrowing pile created by the other students. “I’m just messing with you, nerd.”

Deku chuckled a little before tilting his head down, bowing slightly. “Kacchan, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you by coming over earlier. I didn’t know you were with your friends. I wouldn’t have said hello if I knew that.”

Katsuki frowned and smacked him lightly on the head. “Quit doing that, you moron. You don’t have to apologise. I wasn’t embarrassed.”

Rubbing his scalp, Deku stood up straight. “Oh- you weren’t?”

“No,” Katsuki sighed. “Look, I know I– I’ve been a dick about you and me talking at school, but I straight up do not give a fuck anymore. You can talk to me if you want, and if people give you shit about it, just give me their names and I’ll add them to the list for when I want to eat raspberries next.”

Deku gasped and put his hand over Katsuki’s mouth. The colour drained from his face. “Kacchan!” he whispered. “You can’t joke about something like that!!”

Katsuki wrapped his fingers around Deku’s slim wrist and pulled him off. His grip was gentle; Deku could easily pull away. But he didn’t. 

Katsuki cocked an eyebrow. “Why? You afraid I’ll actually do it?”

“No! I-It’s just in poor taste!”

Katsuki laughed. “You know I’m only kidding. But really, you don’t have to be scared of talking to me or my idiot friends. They won’t do anything to fuck with you. Can’t you tell they’re head over heels for you?”

Hopeful eyes gazed into Katsuki’s. “Do you… I mean… are you being serious?”

“Yes, nerd. They like you, and they wanna hang out with you. So don’t worry about it. Just come with us on the weekend.” He released Deku’s wrist and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Also, if you’re not doing anything this afternoon, come to my parent’s shop before it closes. We’ll do something when I finish work.”

Deku beamed and pulled on the straps of his backpack. “O-OK! See you then, Kacchan!” He ran off into the school, waving over his shoulder. Katsuki returned his wave with a loose hand raise.

 

As Deku disappeared into the stream of students, that weird feeling pooled inside Katsuki’s soul again. His vigour was dented in Deku’s absence, and it was frustrating him. What was it about Deku that made Katsuki long for the boy to be near him?

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

The store was five minutes away from closing when Katsuki heard the front door open, ringing the small brass bell attached. It had been peace and quiet for almost half an hour, so the sudden sound made him jump a bit. He put his pencil down and flipped over the piece of receipt paper he had been drawing on – his sketchbook had run out of free pages, and he hadn’t gotten a chance to buy a new one – and looked over at the door. A familiar head of green hair approached the register, emerald eyes glistening joyfully.

“Hey, Kacchan,” said Deku. He was dressed a little less casually than Katsuki had ever seen him; the green cardigan, which Katsuki learned was a homemade gift from his mother, was unbuttoned and underneath it was a plain white shirt. Maroon suspenders were holding up his light brown pants, and he had his denim messenger bag slung over one arm. Katsuki, on the other hand, felt woefully underdressed in his work polo and school uniform. Would Deku think he looked unprepared? Katsuki hadn’t really thought too far into the evening. Maybe he could throw on his blazer so he didn’t look as informal. Wait, why had Deku dressed up for this anyway? All he told him was that they were going to hang out. He shook his head, erasing the useless thoughts that didn’t matter at the moment. 

 

Katsuki put his elbows on the counter, resting his chin on his interlocked hands. “I should really be kicking you out, Deku. What kind of asshole comes into a store at the last minute?”

Deku’s eyebrows furrowed. “Didn’t– Didn’t you ask me to come here before you closed? Sorry, should I have waited outside?”

Katsuki sighed. He was trying to strike up banter. Why did Deku have to take everything so seriously sometimes? “I was just joking, Deku. Can’t you tell?”

“Oh- No. I thought you were being serious…”

“No, it’s fine. Look, all I have to do is turn off the lights and lock the door. Just go to the staff room and wait for me.” Katsuki pointed to the blue door that read ‘staff only’.

“OK!” Any awkwardness seemed to slip away as Deku rushed off to the staff room. Katsuki sighed, closed down the register, and shut off the overhead speakers. He locked the front door and flicked off all the lights, pulling out his phone from his pocket to use as a torch. Once the store was plunged into darkness, he heard a muffled yelp of surprise. Whoops. Probably should have warned him I was turning off all the lights.

 

Katsuki pushed through the blue door, walking in on Deku, who was fiddling with the torch on his own phone. Katsuki pointed his light directly at Deku’s face, and he squinted.

“Just me. Don’t be scared.”

Deku managed to turn on the flashlight and held it up, illuminating the space between the two of them. He covered his face with a hand. “I-I know.”

Katsuki put his phone on the table and walked over to his locker. “Hey, Deku, give me light.”

Deku directed his phone over to Katsuki’s grey locker, and he fidgeted with the padlock, popping it open at the correct combination. He pulled his bag out and slammed the door shut, echoing through the empty space. Deku took a step back and leaned against the wall.

“So, Kacchan, did you have something in mind for tonight?” he asked. The limited light was casting odd shadows on his face, and Katsuki could only really make out Deku’s bright eyes in the darkness.

“Not sure yet,” he responded, pulling his crumpled blazer out of his bag and throwing it over his shoulders. If not for fashion, Katsuki’d wear it to keep some of the evening chill out. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

Katsuki turned to Deku and stepped closer, closing the space between them. Deku tilted his head up slightly to face Katsuki, who he could see a lot more clearly. “But first, I’ve got something to say to you.”

Katsuki saw the slight bob of Deku’s throat as he swallowed nervously. “A-Alright. What did you want to tell me?”

 

The words were so simple to say, but they fought to escape Katsuki’s mouth. He just had to tell Deku he was his friend. It was practically nothing compared to all Deku had done for him. But looking at his patient expression, all Katsuki could think of was all the terrible things he had done. Deku deserved a better friend than him, and he still didn’t want the boy to get too close to him. An established friendship would be losing that last layer of defence that Katsuki had, and letting Deku in would just be adding another person to the list of people he’d end up disappointing. If Deku had decided to leave him prior to the present moment, he wouldn’t have lost too much sleep over it. But now, if Katsuki were to admit they were friends, and then Deku decided for whatever reason to cut him off, it would be the worst gut punch Katsuki would ever receive in his life. He wouldn’t know how to cope; if he should just let him go, or fight to bring him back.

 

Deku was still waiting quietly for a response. His expression read as though he would wait for Katsuki’s words for hours. Looking at his face, Katsuki recalled all the feelings he held towards Deku and why he appreciated his company in the first place. He was kind and rational, always putting up with Katsuki’s fucked up emotions and outbursts. He had never taken a dig at Katsuki or mocked him for anything he had no control over. Compassion was the only thing in Deku’s eyes as they went back and forth from Katsuki’s crimson gaze to his hands, which he didn’t even realise were tapping on the back of his phone. He decided to push down all his negative thoughts and just spit it out. There was no use worrying about what would happen in the future. At this moment, Deku was his supportive friend, and Katsuki had no reason to doubt that fact.

 

“Deku. What am I to you?”

The dim lighting made it hard to see every feature of Deku’s face, which Katsuki usually analysed to decipher how he was feeling. He could hear his breathing start to quicken, and his voice was slightly higher pitched than usual.

“Kacchan… you are… my hero,” Deku admitted, breathing his words barely above a whisper. Thanks to the silent building, Katsuki caught every syllable. “Maybe you don’t want to hear that, but it’s what I believe. I think you’re incredible. I want to see what you do, not just related to the… you know, the raspberries. You’re a good person, and I’ve only wanted to get to know you more ever since I met you. I know you don’t want to be friends, but I’d really like it if we could be one day. I mean, seeing as you haven’t pushed me away yet, I can only assume there’s some part of you that likes me, even if it’s just a little.”

Katsuki’s stomach fluttered. Deku’s flattery would never stop making him feel strange inside. It was nice to hear, but it was so foreign for him to receive that he couldn’t fully accept the words. At least it confirmed that Deku was still trying to become Katsuki’s friend. It was about time he returned the favour.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to be friends,” corrected Katsuki, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest. “I just said we weren’t because of the circumstances.”

Deku’s head still hung low. “Right.”

“However–” Deku’s head shot right up. “That was before. Things are different now.”

Deku’s eyes were wide, and his lips were parted. It was as if he wanted to speak but didn’t dare to cut Katsuki off, lest he change his mind. He was waiting on each word with dripping anticipation.

“You’re… fuck…. important to me now, Deku. I thought you would always be this pebble I’d kick away eventually, but you’ve managed to stick around. I didn’t want to think of you as anything other than a nuisance. But I don’t think of you that way anymore.”

Deku looked like he was expecting something else. He ran his tongue over his lips and spoke softly, pushing past his apparent nerves. “So… what am I to you, Kacchan?”

 

A thousand definitions of Deku were on the tip of Katsuki’s tongue. He was something Katsuki couldn’t put in just one word. An ally. An accomplice. A supporter. A partner. A companion. No, there was one thing Katsuki could say that would closest encompass all the ways he felt about Deku.

 

“A friend.”

 

Katsuki had never understood why people cry when they are happy. Tears were consistently associated with negativity in his mind, and he couldn’t imagine being so moved by something positive that he’d feel the urge to cry. But as the confirmation left his mouth, Deku’s breath hitched, and he was silent for a few moments. Then, in the darkness, Katsuki could hear a slight sniffling. When he looked into those shimmering green eyes, they reflected small pools of tears, which began falling down Deku’s face in thin rivulets.

 

“Kacchan…” he gasped, voice trembling. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

Katsuki felt his breath start to shake, but he swallowed hard before speaking. “It’s the least I can do. You could’ve thrown me in the slammer by now. But you’re still here, and you clearly give a shit about me. So I might as well say that I feel the same.”

Deku wiped away some of his tears with the back of his hand. “Oh, you– you’re not saying this because I made you feel you had to, right? Because I don’t want you to show pity on me, if we’re going to be friends, I’d like to think it’s because we’re equals–”

“Goddamn, Deku, you might be more paranoid than me,” Katsuki huffed. “I don’t pity or look down on you. You think of me as a friend, and the feeling is mutual. I don’t say shit I don’t mean, so you better get the words into that dense skull of yours. Alright?”

He stood up straight and nodded. “Yes. I get it.” Deku rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Um, could we… can we get out of here? It feels a little spooky to be in a store while it’s so late…”

Katsuki laughed smugly. “Aw, you scared of the dark, Deku?” He pointed his phone into Deku’s eyes again, and a hand rose to his face to block out the light.

“O-Only in big empty spaces!” he squeaked back. “Can we please leave?”

Katsuki picked up his schoolbag and pulled it over his shoulder. He held out a hand to Deku, who meekly took it, wrapping his fingers around Katsuki’s palm. He guided him towards the door.

“It’s not empty in here, though.” He smiled, even though he knew Deku couldn’t see him. “I’m right next to you.”

 

Katsuki led Deku through the back exit and locked the door behind him. After checking that everything was secure, the two boys walked over to the parking lot and hopped into Katsuki’s warm car.

“So… what are we going to do for our first official night as friends?” Deku chirped. Katsuki flicked him on the nose, and he yelped.

“Don’t make it such a big deal, you nerd.” He turned the keys in the ignition and felt the car rumble as it started up. “What do you usually do with your dorky friends?”

Deku seemed to stiffen up at that, and Katsuki paused to look over. “What? What’d I say?”

“Nothing. It’s just that…um, I don’t really have any other… f-friends,” he muttered, voice laced with shame.

Katsuki scoffed a little, looking over his shoulder to reverse out. “Well, that explains why you’re attached to me like a goddamn puppy.”

Deku lightly bat him on the arm. “That’s mean, Kacchan.”

He turned the steering wheel and drove off onto the street, adjusting the rearview mirror. “Deku, I like poking fun at people I’m close with. It’s just how I roll. If we’re gonna be friends, you’ll have to grow some thicker skin and get used to me bullying you a little.”

He heard a small exhale from Deku’s seat. “I know it’s just how you are, Kacchan. But don’t get mad at me if I tell you to reel it in a bit. I don’t want to be a punching bag.”

Katsuki felt his pulse quicken. Deku being firm and standing up for himself was commendable. Katsuki knew he could go a little far sometimes, but what was frustrating was when he wasn’t informed when he was actually hurting someone’s feelings. He needed to be explicitly told what someone’s limits were so he didn’t cross them again. It was his way of acknowledging that he respected one’s boundaries, since apologies from Katsuki were rare. So he was glad Deku wasn’t going to be a doormat.

“Alright. That’s fair.” Katsuki was driving mindlessly, heading towards his house. He still wasn’t sure what he and Deku would do for the evening.

As if he’d read Katsuki’s mind, Deku suddenly piped up. “What do you do with your friends when you hang out, Kacchan?” Katsuki tapped his fingers on the wheel.

“Study. Party. Movie, occasionally.” Deku gasped excitedly and clapped his hands.

“Let’s see a movie then! There’s this new horror title that I’ve been wanting to watch!”

Katsuki made a U-turn and drove towards the cinema. “You’d better not scream in my ear when there’s a cheap jumpscare, Deku.”

A smile was audible from Deku’s voice. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Kacchan.”

Katsuki parked his car a few shops down from the archaic cinema. It was a local place and one of the oldest buildings Hase had to offer. Deku and Katsuki walked inside the warm foyer, and the smell of buttery popcorn hit them both in the face. They joined the short queue, and Katsuki pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

“You want anything to eat?” asked Katsuki. Deku sulked and shook his head.

“Can’t have popcorn,” he sighed. “It messes up my braces.”

Katsuki shrugged. “Sucks to be you, nerd. I’ll just get us drinks, then.” He took out a few bills and started counting them. Deku reached for his own wallet.

“Kacchan, I can pay for myself,” he said. “I’ve got a job too.”

“No, you don’t,” Katsuki replied. “Your restaurant has been shut down ever since the incident.”

Deku blinked. “I– How’d you know?”

“Because I read the news, stupid. And you wouldn’t be at my house every other day if you had work to go to.”

Deku rubbed the back of his head. “Well, I-I technically still have a job. We’re reopening soon, and I’ll be going back to being a food runner.”

“Uh-huh. What’s this movie called?”

“ ‘Piece by Piece’. Kacchan, really, I can buy my own–”

Katsuki cut him off and handed the cashier the money for two tickets and two empty cups they could fill up. Deku looked a little troubled by Katsuki’s refusal to let him pay, but that was also mixed with gratitude. He took his ticket and cup and thanked Katsuki, who only nodded in response.

After they had found their seats, Katsuki settled in, listening to Deku gush about how he had been excited to watch this film for months, how he’d rewatched the trailers dozens of times and followed the development of it since it was announced. Katsuki didn’t speak much, but just listening to Deku rave about something he was pumped up about was enough for his mood to lift. They quieted down once the ads were over and turned their attention to the screen.

The movie was very slow-paced and methodical, taking its time to build up the uneasy atmosphere. The basic premise was an unnamed woman investigating the disappearance of her husband, and finding bits and pieces of him over the course of a few weeks. It began with her finding a finger, then an eye, and then a toe. Katsuki turned to Deku at one point, who was laser-focused on the big screen. He tore his attention away from the film to stare at Deku. Katsuki was still thinking about the consequences of calling the boy his friend. He had worried about being seen as weak or vulnerable for letting a new person into his life, especially one who knew the darkest side of him. But as Katsuki looked around the packed room, filled with people only focused on the scene at hand, he realised it didn’t matter at all. No one around him in the cinema or outside gave a shit if he and Deku looked like friends enjoying a film together. And Deku certainly wasn’t bothered. He always carried himself confidently, even if he didn’t feel that way. Deku never let any rumour or outside judgement get him down like Katsuki did. It was admirable. He strived to be more like Deku and to start giving less of a flying fuck about what anyone said about him.

 

The film continued. The protagonist was spiralling into more and more despair as the body parts she found became bigger. She had found a lung and a hand. Katsuki squirmed in his seat. It was so ironic that he didn’t like horror movies. They should have been perfect for him. But he didn’t like the sight of the disfigured organs and limbs on the screen, even though he obviously knew they were fake. On the other hand, Deku seemed to be having the time of his life. He was muttering during the entire runtime, analysing the practical effects of the gore.

At the climax of the movie, the anguished woman found the remains of her husband’s mutilated body in their bed, and Katsuki had to shut his eyes. The scene was just too gruesome for him. But of course, Deku was the complete antithesis of Katsuki, with his innocent-looking eyes glued to the screen. The audience gasped at the grisly sight, and with his averted eyes, Katsuki heard a spine-chilling scream from the protagonist. The ending of the movie was strangely ambiguous. The woman woke up from passing out with one of her own fingers missing, and the corpse she’d found had disappeared. Katsuki was waiting for another scene to explain it as a dream or something supernatural, but the credits began to scroll, and the lights came back on. By his side, Deku drank the last of his drink and stood up, a giddy smile plastered on his face.

“Wow, that was amazing! What a great film!!” he babbled. “I loved everything about it! Oh my god, I want to watch it again already. Kacchan, what did you think?”

Katsuki stood up, feeling the sweat that had pooled up on the back of his neck. He was still slightly disturbed, so he turned to the exit.

“Let’s get some fresh air first.” Deku nodded and followed him outside.

 

Katsuki led Deku back to his car, unlocking it with his keys. The cold metal against his hands was a shock. Winter was sure setting in quickly. Deku hopped into the passenger seat and stared at Katsuki with anticipating eyes. 

“So, did you like the movie? What’d you think of the story?” rambled Deku. “I thought the main character was a really interesting person to follow; her melancholia was shown so well with such little words, and the effects on her husband were so professional looking!!” He pondered for a second and then laughed. “I guess you’d know how accurate some of the wounds were, right? Would you watch it again? I know I would!!”

Katsuki was tight-lipped. He considered just lying and going along with what Deku said, agreeing that he enjoyed the experience as much as he did. But he thought about his words, more than usual before speaking. Katsuki did want to stop caring about what others thought of him, even if it didn’t align with the depiction of Katsuki they’d conjured in their minds. That included Deku. He wanted to be honest from now on. So he brushed his hair out of his face and met Deku’s expecting gaze.

“I thought it was alright,” he said. “I don’t… actually like horror movies that much. I’m… ugh, squeamish.”

Deku was shocked; his mouth parted open in a silent gasp. Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut and looked up.

“I know it's stupid. I should be the person most used to them, right? But horror freaks me out, so I don’t watch it often.”

He still kept his eyes shut. Opening up was difficult. Was Deku about to make fun of him and call him a hypocrite for his tastes? That wave of paranoia washed over him briefly, but it was overridden when Deku placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Kacchan, why didn’t you say so?” he said gently. “We could’ve watched something else– I wouldn’t have minded!”

Katsuki opened his eyes and turned to the gracious boy by his side. He was the definition of benevolent, never making Katsuki feel silly for his opinions or likings. It made Katsuki look like an idiot for ever doubting him, but he knew that was never Deku’s intention.

“You looked so interested,” Katsuki explained. “I didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

There was silence in the car as Katsuki drove Deku home. It wasn't because of any tension, but the movie was much longer than either of them thought, and it was getting pretty late. Deku was staring out the window, occasionally letting his eyelids close before he jolted up when Katsuki came to a stop or ran over a bump in the road. Sometimes, Katsuki saw Deku sneak a glance at him, open his mouth, but never say anything. By the third time it happened, Katsuki had gotten fed up. He was allowing himself to be truthful around Deku, so he wanted the boy to say what was on his mind too.

“Stop gawking at me and not speaking, Deku,” he admonished. “If you have something to say, spit it out. I’m not gonna kick you out of the car.”

Deku yawned a little, rubbing his face to keep himself conscious. “Sorry. I did have something to ask you, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I can handle it. Just tell me.”

“Well–” Deku yawned again. “I-I was really curious on why the movie shook you up a little because… you know. You don’t act that way when you actually kill someone. Do you know why that is?”

Katsuki gripped the steering wheel tighter. He wasn’t mad at Deku for asking, but he didn’t really even know the answer himself. The emotions he felt when committing murder weren’t so easily explained.

 

Katsuki stayed staring straight ahead at the road when he spoke. “It’s hard to fully describe. It’s… kind of like an out-of-body experience when I do it.”

“What, like you’re possessed?”

“No, not like that. Like, I’m fully aware of what I’m doing, and I do it of my own free will, but as soon as the compulsion is quelled and the high is over, I feel disgusted. And I can’t even recall all the details of what happened because my mind goes hazy.”

Deku was quiet for a few moments, and Katsuki could almost hear the gears turning in his head. “You never told me that you feel gross immediately afterwards. I wish I knew that earlier.”

“I didn’t think it was important to mention.”

“That is important, Kacchan,” Deku retorted. “It proves that what I think of you is accurate. You think you’re this terrible person with no humanity, but you clearly have some sense of conscience. If you didn’t, you’d be a lot less redeemable.”

Katsuki shot a quick look at Deku, a slight scowl on his face. “I thought you didn’t want me to think of myself as a m–”

“Nope, don’t say it.” Deku put a finger to Katsuki’s lips, shutting him up. “Kacchan, my opinion of you would be no different whether you felt remorse or not. But since you do, you can’t consider yourself totally evil. So I want you to really think about that.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t matter what I think. No one would ever accept me if they knew what I’d done.”

“I have.”

 

There was a beat. Katsuki let out a slightly irritated exhale. “That’s because you’re nuts. You’ve got an unhealthy obsession with homicide.”

“Maybe so,” said Deku. “But I’m not afraid of you.” 

Afraid . People had feared Katsuki his whole life, mostly due to his short fuse as a kid. Even after mellowing out as he got older, people still tensed up around him. His reputation as a threatening person wasn’t completely unwarranted. But Deku never showed true fear around him. He saw that Katsuki could be careful and caring, and he looked past the violent side of him. Katsuki was convinced he’d never meet another person like Deku, and the fact he had him in his life was a stroke of idyllic luck.

 

Katsuki felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. At a red light, he quickly took a glance at the notification that popped up. It was from Kirishima.

 

[KIRISHIMA] - 22:48

Where the hell are you, man? You promised you’d come over tonight!!

 

Katsuki’d forgotten entirely about his obligations to his other friends. He turned to Deku, who was passed out, breathing small clouds of hot air against the glass. Even if they hadn’t exchanged a large number of words, the evening with Deku had been a thousand times better than any party Katsuki could have attended. He ignored the message and drove his tired friend home in silence.

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

The Saturday that Katsuki and his friends met up at the arcade was the coldest day of November so far. He had picked out his thickest jacket, zipping it up all the way to his chin and keeping his shoulders tensed up around his neck. The others were equally wrapped up in warm clothes, huddling together outside the arcade as they waited for one more person to arrive.

 

“Where the hell is Midoriya?” Kaminari whined. “I’m freezing my ass off out here!”

“He’ll be here any minute now,” said Kirishima. “He texted saying he was 10 minutes away, and that was 8 minutes ago.”

Katsuki checked his messages with Deku. The last message between them was from that morning, when Deku confirmed that he was still invited to hang out. Katsuki chewed him out a little, telling him not to doubt their friends. He side-eyed Kirishima. Deku had texted him his ETA but not Katsuki? 

“Hey, there he is!”

 

Katsuki turned to look out into the parking lot, where a run-down grey car was pulling up. He’d never seen Deku’s car before, but it did make sense that it wasn’t as up to date. Katsuki knew that the Midoriyas lived off a one-salary budget, and whatever Deku wanted to buy, he’d have to save up for it by working his own job. He watched Deku lock the door to his car and wave to the group, who all waved back.

“Midoriya!” chorused the group. Deku approached the front door of the arcade sheepishly.

“Hi, guys!” he greeted. “Oh, Sero, I gave Kacchan your shirt. I know you wanted me to return it.”

Sero turned to Katsuki, puzzled. “I thought I told you I wasn’t worried about–”

Deku was suddenly swept up in a hug by Mina, interrupting Sero. Katsuki silently thanked her for cutting him off.

“Ooo, my sweet boy, I’ve missed you! How could you leave me alone with all these losers for so long?”

Deku laughed nervously, tilting his head down. “Thanks very much for inviting me. I really appreciate it!”

“Oh, none of that,” Mina tutted. “You’re free to hang out with us whenever you’d like. We’re your friends now! Well, except Katsuki. He’s still being a grump about admitting it.”

The party chuckled, and Katsuki frowned. Deku smiled along with the others, but Katsuki could see a hint of sadness on his face. It was true. Katsuki had told Deku in solace that they were friends, but he still couldn’t say it to anyone else. When someone asked about his relationship with Deku, he would freeze up and say they were classmates, or they ‘hung out’, or he’d just avoid answering and shove them away. Something was holding him back from acknowledging to others that he thought of Deku as a true friend. It was easy to just brush this off as part of Katsuki’s reticent personality, but that couldn’t be an excuse forever.

 

“OK, OK, can we get inside now?” Kaminari grabbed Jirou and Sero’s arms and pulled them through the sliding doors of the arcade. A blast of warm air flowed around them, and the whole group rushed inside to escape the cold.

“What are we doing first?” Kirishima asked. “I think they installed a rhythm game a few months ago.”

“A rhythm game?” echoed Jirou. “Ooo, I’ve gotta check this out.”

“Wait for me, girl!!” Mina followed, still holding onto Deku. He was dragged behind the two girls as they found the dance machine in the back corner of the building. The boy followed behind, staring at the giant screen. It was much bigger than any of them had expected, and it had room for four players instead of the usual two. Mina, Jirou and Deku all took spots on the stage, leaving one empty space.

Deku turned around and gestured to Katsuki to join them. “Come on, Kacchan!”

Katsuki shook his head. “Not a chance. I’m not becoming a gross, sweaty mess in the first ten minutes.”

“You’ll cool off as soon as we finish!” Mina protested. Jirou was too busy searching for a song for them to dance to. “It’s, like, negative 50 degrees outside!”

“Not doing it.” 

Deku sighed and turned to the three other boys. “You guys have more guts than Kacchan, right?”

Sero laughed at Deku’s boldness and stepped up. “Sure do. I’ll give it a shot, Midoriya.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue. He had guts, thank you very much, but he didn’t want to look like a complete fool in front of everyone. 

Jirou picked out a medium-difficulty song, and the four players got into position. The upbeat music began, starting with simple steps. Everyone was doing well at the start, and next to Katsuki, Kirishima and Kaminari were urging on their friends. 

 

Suddenly, the song shifted into a higher tempo, and the arrows were getting a lot quicker. Everyone was fighting to keep up except for Deku, who still had a flawless combo despite the fast beat.

“M-Midoriya, how are you – oh, Jesus – how are you doing that?” Jirou panted, glancing at Deku’s perfect score.

Deku breathed heavily, eyes still focused on the screen and legs moving in perfect rhythm with the song. “You… you’ve gotta move before your brain can register… register the pattern.” He was gripping the support bar so firmly that his tanned skin was turning white, and the small scars across his lower arms were popping out more.

“Dude,” gasped Sero, groaning over his successive misses. “You-You’re obliterating us!! What other… –ugh– other secret skills do you have?!”

As they continued, a small crowd of patrons lurked around the group to watch the dancers. The song came to an abrupt end, and the four players collapsed, holding onto the support beam for dear life. They barely managed to lift their heads up to see their results. Sero was in last, and Jirou and Mina were closely tied, but Deku had blown all of them out of the water with a nearly perfect score. He pushed his damp hair out of his eyes and grinned at the observers. They broke out into applause.

“Is there anything Midoriya can’t do?” questioned Kaminari. Kirishima’s hands were red from clapping. Katsuki watched as Sero, Mina, Jirou, and Deku peeled themselves from the machine. The crowd dispersed, and a new group of people went up to have their turn. 

Katsuki and his friends sat down on a leather sofa off to the side and waited for the dancers to catch their breath.

“That… was… awesome…” puffed Mina. “I love…dancing… even if it kills… me.”

“I need… a drink.” Jirou wiped the sweat from her brow. Deku nodded in agreement, and Katsuki stood up and walked over to the vending machine.

The drinks at the arcade were ridiculously overpriced, but Katsuki, deep in thought, didn’t care as he punched in the number and slid a crinkled note into the slot. He craned his neck to peek over his shoulder. Despite being drenched in sweat and breathless, they enjoyed themselves. They had fun. 

 

He suddenly felt a pang of sadness in his heart. Katsuki had refused the offer to join in because he didn’t want to look stupid. But watching his friends play the game was entertaining. They didn’t look stupid at all. And the strangers who Katsuki was so worried about embarrassing himself in front of ended up cheering them all on. If all this was true, why was he getting so caught up in ‘looking dumb’ and still worrying about what other people thought? Trying to preserve an image was making Katsuki miss out on fun experiences he’d never get to do over. He wouldn’t be this young and carefree forever.

The water bottle dropped, and Katsuki lifted the hatch and took it. If he wanted to be less stressed about his own reputation and start being more nonchalant, like Deku, then he needed to stop immediately rejecting things out of a fear of not ‘looking cool’. 

 

Katsuki threw the water bottle at Deku, which hit him in the forehead. He looked up to see who had tossed it at him, and Katsuki was looming over where he sat on the sofa.

“You looked good out there, nerd.”

The plastic water bottle crumpled in Deku’s grasp. “Oh- I… did?” He unscrewed the lid and downed the entire bottle in one gulp. “Thanks, Kacchan.”

“Hey, why does Midoriya get water?” Jirou snapped. “I’m the one who said I needed a drink!”

“Maybe because he doesn’t complain about it like you do,” Katsuki barked back. “Ask one of the other losers.”

Jirou turned to Kaminari, who put his hands in front of him in an ‘X’. “Uh, no. Water here is like 1500 yen. Sorry, Jirou, I don’t love you enough to– AHH-!”

Kaminari was cut off by Jirou hitting him over the head. Katsuki frowned. Love? He was doing something for his–

 

Oh. Of course. He’d never even admitted to them that Deku was his friend. 

 

Fuck. Did they think Katsuki was messing with him? That would be a terrible thing for them to assume, especially since Katsuki had put his entire heart on the line when he told Deku in the first place. He clenched his jaw. If he couldn't say it aloud, he’d have to put more effort into his actions. They spoke louder than words, after all.

Sero rose to his feet and pulled Deku up with him. “Enough sitting around! Let’s go try something else! Bakugou! Show Midoriya how good you are at those precision games!”

Deku leant his head back, facing Katsuki as he was dragged away. “Come on, Kacchan!”

 

The group explored the arcade, trying out all the different types of games there were. True to his skill, Katsuki got the highest score on the ring toss, the beanbag throw, and the strength test, which he won by a single digit. They spent hours getting fiercely competitive over scores, challenging each other to a new game as soon as the previous one was done. Smiles never left their faces as the hours ticked by. Even when Katsuki demanded Deku face him in an air hockey match and got the puck slammed into his fingers, the younger boy just shook it off and said, “Is that the best you’ve got?”

As the day drew to a close, Sero, Kaminari, Kirishima, Mina, and Jirou were busy playing a five player racing game. While they waited for them to finish, Katsuki took Deku over to a fruit themed claw machine with different soft toys inside. With help from Deku on the other side of the glass, Katsuki managed to grab a red plush with the claw, and it dropped down into the hatch. He picked it up and examined it, then burst out laughing. What else would it be but a raspberry?

“What’s so funny, Kacchan?” Deku looked at him with a crooked smile and a slightly furrowed brow. Katsuki rarely laughed, especially not in public. But anything holding him back from expressing himself had evaporated. Katsuki smiled and handed Deku the fruity toy.

“Here, Deku. Since you love raspberries so fuckin’ much.”

Deku’s mouth dropped in shock, but then he also started giggling uncontrollably, building up to an ebullient cackle that was infectious enough to cause Katsuki’s mouth to twitch upwards. Deku’s shrieks of laughter were causing him to stumble, and Katsuki had to hold out an arm so he didn’t fall flat on his face. He giggled and gasped for air against Katsuki’s bare forearm, clutching onto his warm skin tightly as his body convulsed.

 

Finished with their racing game, Mina approached the two chuckling boys, waving around the card they’d been using to play the arcade games all day.

“There you are! Come on, we’ve almost used up all our credits! I want to get photos!!” She wrapped one arm around each boy and pulled them over to the photo booth, where the rest of his friends were already waiting. It was uncomfortably cramped, but with some adjusting, everyone’s faces would at least be in the frame.

“OK, it’s gonna take four pictures,” Mina instructed, tapping on the screen to select the settings. “And I’m using the last of the credits so we’ll all get a copy. We don’t get any do-overs, so don’t fuck it up!!”

“Wait, where’s the camera?” asked Kaminari. Mina sighed exasperatedly and pointed at the flashing red dot. “Ohh…”

“OK, ready everyone? Smile!” Mina reached over and poked him in the side. “You too, Katsuki!”

As he mustered up the slightest flash of a grin, Katsuki stared back at the preview of him and all his friends. Deku was smiling widely, still clutching the raspberry plush in his hands and holding it up to the camera. The first flash went off, and Katsuki blinked a little.

“OK, next one, do an angry face!”

 

Katsuki couldn’t help his wandering and paranoid mind. Throughout the entire day, he still hadn’t said aloud that Deku was a friend. He could think it all he wanted, and his actions certainly were cordial, but words held some merit. And he couldn’t ignore Deku's tiny pinch of disappointment whenever Katsuki brushed off the question of whether or not they were friends. There were a few things holding him back. If Katsuki was ever caught or exposed for his crimes, what would happen to Deku? He’d be known for being friends with Katsuki, the serial murderer. Deku would be labelled crazy, a freak, someone not to be trusted because of the company he keeps. And he already didn’t have many friends.

 

“Make a stupid face now, guys!”

The third flash went off, and Katsuki looked at the faces of his childhood friends. They were kind, genuine and supportive people. They’d known each other since Katsuki was a stubborn and bratty child, and they had managed to stick around through all his phases. Even if they didn’t know what Katsuki was going through, their presence always helped ground him at least a little. They were a good group, but he knew they weren’t desensitised to violence like Deku and Katsuki. They’d never accept Katsuki if they knew he was a killer, which was fair. But Deku was different. He wasn’t a dangerous person. Maybe if he kept Deku at somewhat of a distance, he could get away with just assimilating the younger boy into the group of friends and become closer to them instead of Katsuki.

 

“Last one! Smile again!”

Deku didn’t need Katsuki specifically. He deserved strong friends and people he could rely on. If his friends could have Deku’s back, then there wouldn’t be anything to worry about in the event that Katsuki would be taken out of his life. He couldn’t let his own actions ruin the blooming friendships Deku was making on his own. His friend group liked and accepted Deku as one of them. Katsuki wouldn’t do anything that jeopardised that. He owed Deku that, at least.

 

The photos printed out slowly, and Katsuki got his copy. He looked at ease in all the photos, not as emotive as his friends but… calm. The rest of the copies were handed out, and his friends seemed to think they looked good. However, Mina grabbed one of his ears and yanked him down to her height.

“Katsuki!! You didn't smile in the last one! You’re just looking at Midoriya!”

The sun was beginning to set. Kirishima and Sero were the first to say goodbye, leaving on foot since they lived nearby. Mina’s parents pulled up next, and she gave Deku a friendly ruffle of his hair, telling him that he had to come hang out with them again. Finally, Jirou and Kaminari, coming outside after trading all their tickets for a giant orange cat, bid Katsuki and Deku farewell and drove off. The sky was a warm shade of saffron fading into pale blue. The bright yellow sun was just barely peaking over the horizon, giving Hase maybe 20 more minutes of natural light. Katsuki turned to Deku, who was texting on his phone with one hand and clutching the stuffed toy Katsuki won for him with the other.

“Hey.”

Deku shut off his phone and looked up. “Yeah?”

“Are you doing anything after this?” He shook his head.

“Then come for a walk with me.”

 

Deku didn’t ask where they were going. Katsuki knew exactly where he was headed, though. It was only a couple of blocks away from the arcade. Once they turned the corner, Deku gasped happily.

“Oh, I’ve been here a few times!”

It was an old park where Katsuki had spent a lot of his days as a child, messing around with the neighbourhood kids and causing havoc for their parents. There was a lot of equipment that he’d played on as a kid: the slide, the monkey bars, and a two-seater swing that he’d rock himself back and forth on before jumping off, reaching for a sky that was just out of his grasp.

Katsuki pushed the gate of the park open and pointed. “You reckon we can still fit on those kiddy swings?”

Deku dropped his bag and sprinted off. “Last one there’s a mouldy raspberry!” He cackled as Katsuki was left stunned for a second before running to catch up, his long legs closing the distance between them. Despite that, Deku was still faster, and he hopped on the swing, wriggling to make his legs fit.

“Bit of a tight squeeze,” he chuckled. He put the raspberry toy on his lap and pushed off, building momentum and getting higher into the air. Katsuki was just sitting down, and Deku was already a couple of feet above him.

“What’s wrong, Kacchan?” he called out. “You need a push?”

Katsuki suddenly stood up and put his feet on the seat, pushing off with all of his body weight. Deku laughed as Katsuki swung into the air, gripping the oily chains as he caught up to Deku’s height.

“What was that about needing a push?” Katsuki taunted. 

“Alright, you win.” Deku was so high he was nearly horizontal, and Katsuki wasn’t far behind. At the peak of his swing, he suddenly jumped off, flying for a few seconds before landing in a kneeling position and getting his hands covered in the flaky bark that littered the ground.

“Be careful, Kacchan!” Deku fussed. Katsuki stood up and wiped off his clothes.

“I’m fine. You do it!”

“What? But it’s dangerous!!”

“Just do one of your parkour rolls, nerd. If I did it, then you can do it too.”

Katsuki saw Deku contemplate it briefly before sighing and tossing the fruit toy off his lap. Katsuki caught it and stood back, wanting to watch it from the side.

Deku pushed powerfully for a couple of swings, shutting his eyes as he built up inertia. On the most vigorous swing, his eyes snapped open and he jumped off, soaring into the air. Katsuki saw his silhouetted body in the last rays of the sunlight, clouds floating around his head. Deku tucked his limbs in and landed flawlessly on the ground, rolling a few times and then standing up, plucking bark out of his hair.

“That was pretty fun!” Deku exclaimed. “But I don’t think I can do it again… I felt like I was gonna land on my neck and break my spine.”

“Good thing you didn’t.” Katsuki launched the raspberry at Deku’s face. “I would have had to deal with your dead ass, and that would’ve been so inconvenient.”

Deku caught the projectile and rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up such a terrible situation for you, Kacchan.”

“All is forgiven, Deku.” Katsuki sat back down on the swing, grabbing the rocking chain to make it still again. Deku followed suit, and the two of them sat side by side as the final beams of sun dripped over them.

 

“Did you have a good time?” Katsuki asked earnestly. Deku smiled widely and nodded.

“Of course! It was great. Your friends are amazing!”

Katsuki ran his hands up and down the cool chain of the swing. “Good.”

“It was my first time properly hanging out with people I like,” said Deku. “I guess the party happened, but I was drunk for a lot of it, so it doesn’t really count…heh.”

Katsuki pursed his lips. He’d been meaning to ask Deku a few things regarding his previous friendships, but he didn't want to make the boy uncomfortable. Katsuki inhaled through his teeth. He’d just have to try and be gentle with his words.

“Hey… Deku.”

“Yes?”

“Have you… really not had any friends before you met me?”

Deku’s breathing changed slightly. Katsuki saw him clench his fists in his lap. Crap. He was in a good mood, and I just fucked it up. What’s wrong with–

“I have had friends before. But they aren’t friends anymore. You’re my only real friend right now.”

Katsuki stared at him in disbelief. “That can’t be true. Why did you stop being friends with other people?”

“I didn’t. They stopped being friends with me.”

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Deku was among the most non-threatening, sympathetic and kind people he’d ever met. Anyone would be lucky to have him as a friend.

“I know,” Deku chuckled. “I’m really pathetic. I don’t know what it is about me.” He fidgeted with his hands, running his palms across the velvety texture of the raspberry plushie. “Even when I try my hardest to fit in, I just can’t seem to fit the mould. I’m not normal. I’m too strange for anyone to want to approach me. Every friendship I've had has crashed and burned once they got sick of me, and I didn't know what I was doing wrong until it was too late. Eventually, I realised that some people’s personalities just aren't meant to keep friends. I'm one of them. So when I do speak, I pretend to be someone else, just so I don't lose the people around me.” His green eyes were barely illuminated in the sunset. “Well, I pretend around everyone except you.”

 

Katsuki frowned. He could see his eyebrows in his peripherals from how much he was scowling. Had Deku really gone through all that exclusion when he had done nothing in his life but tried to fit in? It made Katsuki see red. How could there be people like him, who undeniably treated people like garbage, having friends by his side despite those actions? Deku deserved that support more than he did. He deserved better than the hand he was dealt.

Deku ran his hand through his hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to throw a pity party or anything. It’s just kind of what I’m used to. But you’re my dearest friend now, and I’m just… so grateful.”

Katsuki cleared his throat. “Oi, the others are your friends now, too, not just me. You can rely on them for stuff I can’t give you.”

Deku smiled. “I understand. They’re really nice, Kacchan. And I'm thankful you introduced me to them. But you know, there will always be this unique bond between us, something no other person will ever have. So I think you’re the person closer to me than anyone else.”

Goosebumps pricked up on Katsuki’s arm, and he ran a hand over it. “Yeah, I get it.” Fuck. Deku can say all this to me, and I can’t even admit to anyone else that he’s my friend, too. I’m such a goddamn coward.

 

Deku got up from the swing and stretched. “I should probably be getting back. I’ve got some exams coming up that I’m not prepared for.”

Katsuki got up and yawned. “Yeah, I need a nap. That was enough socialising for three months.”

Deku flashed him a smile, heaving his messenger bag over his shoulder. “At least I’ve got a photo of you now. I’ve had your profile picture on my phone as a stock photo of a raspberry for over a month!”

He blinked. “Huh? My pic on your phone’s a raspberry?”

Deku shrugged. “Well, I didn’t really want to just whip my phone out and take a picture of you when you didn’t expect it! You’d yell at me and tell me to delete it!”

“Of course I would!” He paused. “Fuck, I don’t have a picture of you either.”

“Just use the photo booth one,” Deku said. 

“Nah,” retorted Katsuki. “The other idiots are in it. Let’s take a new picture.” He pulled Deku by the strap of his messenger bag. “Say cheese, loser.”

“Ka- Ah! Oh, alright!” Deku quickly adapted to the proximity and held up a peace sign. Katsuki adjusted his phone up to get the last specks of daylight on their faces and snapped a photo. He let go of Deku and clicked on the image. They were bathed in both warm and cold colours, melding between the night sky and the remainder of the sun. Deku had his eyes squinted so much they might have been closed, and Katsuki had a relaxed smile on his face. It was a nice picture, probably one of the only ones he didn’t hate of himself. 

“Can you send that to me?” Deku asked, standing on his tiptoes to get a glimpse. Katsuki sent the photo to his number, and he heard a ping when Deku’s phone received it.

“Aw, I love it! Thanks, Kacchan!”

Katsuki put his phone in his pocket and pushed the metal gate open. “Let’s go back to the arcade before it gets too dark.”

When the two boys returned to the arcade parking lot, they said their goodbyes and Deku climbed into his car and drove away. Katsuki opened the door to his own car and started the engine but stayed stationary. He pulled out his phone and looked at the photo of him and Deku again. It was a perfect snapshot of the two of them. Katsuki, at ease and not worried about keeping up appearances. Deku, smiling and carefree, feeling safe enough to be himself. Katsuki zoomed in on the right side of the photo. He could count Deku’s dark freckles like this. He could detect the subtle tint of red on his cheeks, probably from the sunlight on his face. 

Katsuki observed himself. He could see that his shoulders, usually automatically tensed, were relaxed in the photo. His smile was genuine, not a big toothy one like Deku’s, but one that showed off his usually suppressed dimples. Katsuki couldn’t remember the last time he smiled like that. Of course, if anyone were to get him to express authentic happiness for the first time in years, it would be Izuku Midoriya.

Notes:

hope you enjoyed this chapter! a bit of deku’s stuff about friendship was based off my personal life so it was kinda tough to write LOL

also i know katsuki will be reading into kiri calling deku adorable but trust me i’m just the number one platonic kirideku truther i heart their friendship so much (*^‿^*) i promise its not gonna be a stupid love quarrel or anything katsuki is just jealous and overthinking everything TEEHEE

 

btw its so weird that i picked raspberries as their code word. i dont even like raspberries (￣З￣) #strawberrygang

Chapter 9: A Shift

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=ZM4YBhg6TwKjGLxQ6gcO5Q

12.7k words of kacchan and deku talking abt their strangely close "friendship"

December rolled around, bringing a bitter chill, and the anticipation of a new year crept up on the residents of Hase. Snow had begun to fall, cloaking the town in white and burying the crunchy, orange leaves that had littered the ground all through autumn. Festivities were coming up, filling the small community with a jubilant aura.

 

It had been just over two weeks since the arcade. Deku was hard at work with winter exams. Most of the seniors were preparing for their final semester before graduation.

 

And Katsuki Bakugou had gotten his urge to commit murder again.

It shouldn’t have been shocking. This was the time pattern he was used to. But when the urge began gnawing inside of him, Katsuki was surprised. It had been a while since he had thought about his brutal hobby. His life over the last month or so was astonishingly normal. 

Since it was getting closer to the end of the year, Katsuki and Deku had been hanging out one-on-one less than usual. The most in-person chats they could have were when Katsuki spotted him at lunch, right before the underclassman retreated into the library to study. Otherwise, their conversations were limited to text messages, but even those had grown few and far between due to how busy Deku was. Katsuki had gotten into the habit of checking his phone pretty often to see whether Deku had texted him, and when he hadn’t, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

This strange, disgruntled feeling also carried over to his brief interactions with the younger boy. They only had time to say ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’ before they had to go their separate ways. When Deku left his side, Katsuki felt drained, as if the boy had taken a piece of his soul with him. Katsuki didn’t feel whole until he saw that familiar pair of green eyes flash by again. In fact, a very immoral and possessive part of Katsuki would rather keep Deku in his sights at all times so that the hole in his heart would never leave. He did his best to ignore that intrusive thought.

It was a frustrating notion, especially since Katsuki didn’t feel this way about any of his other friends. He cared about them a lot, too, but they could let him be alone, and he wouldn’t notice. When Deku left him, even for a second, he noticed tremendously. His friends were somewhat aware, too, which was even more annoying. They would tell Katsuki how relaxed he was when he was with Deku versus when he wasn’t, and Katsuki would yell at them to shut up and stop hounding him. He still hadn’t said Deku was a friend out loud yet.

Katsuki was at work, passing the time by drawing in his new sketchbook. Occasionally, a customer would come up to him and want help or ask for his opinion on the clothes they’d bought. He was usually pretty patient at work, as opposed to his rude demeanour everywhere else, but today, Katsuki was getting irritated a lot faster, and his composure was dwindling. It wasn’t a coincidence. This was one of his main symptoms when he wasn’t able to suppress the incipient urge any longer. And each time Katsuki’s head throbbed with pain, he knew he didn’t have much longer before he had to give in. 

When the store was getting quiet again, Katsuki pulled out his phone. The profile picture of him and Deku at the park popped up as a notification. He’d received a text from the boy, and his heart skipped in anticipation. Before opening the message, he thought about what he was going to do that night. He had time to browse the forum and find a target to kill. But he was unsure whether to share that he’d gotten the urge with Deku. He was the only person Katsuki could talk to about it, but he was still reminiscing on how disgusted he’d felt when he knew Deku was witnessing him kill. It made him feel horrible, and no matter how many times he was told that Deku didn’t think of him differently, he couldn’t stomach the idea of being watched again.

Nevertheless, Katsuki missed Deku and wanted to see him soon since they hadn’t had much of a chance for the last couple of weeks. This time, he’d take Deku with him to the crime, but he wouldn’t have him see it. Double-checking that no one was watching, Katsuki opened his phone and stared at the message he’d received.

[DEKU] - 17:11

Hi Kacchan! ＼(⌒▽⌒) What’re you up to? 

 

Those stupid emoticons, which Katsuki had hated initially, were a staple of Deku’s talking style. He couldn’t imagine the boy sending a message without them. For him, they were a form of punctuation, having to be included at the end of each sentence like a full stop or an exclamation mark.

 

[YOU] - 17:12

at work, you?

 

[DEKU] - 17:12

I’m at work as well!! ('▽^人) I’m on break rn, it’s sooo boring here on a weekday (ᓀ ᓀ)

 

That was new. Deku had returned to work after nearly two months. It was nice to know he’d been allowed back at his job, especially after it was technically Katsuki’s fault he’d been unemployed in the first place.

 

[YOU] - 17:12

so they let you go back after your boss kicked the bucket.

 

[DEKU] - 17:13

Kacchan, don’t be morbid!!

 

What? Who did he think he was talking to? Deku was the one who wanted his boss to die!!

 

[DEKU] - 17:13

But yes, we’ve finally reopened under the assistant manager! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Well, she’s the boss now. But she’s really nice! She was super understanding of how busy I was with school!!

[YOU] - 17:14

how many more exams have you got

 

[DEKU] - 17:15

They mostly wrapped up today! I have two more the day after tomorrow, and then I’m FREE! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

 

Good. He was available. Katsuki took a deep breath before replying.

 

[YOU] - 17:15

wanna do something with me after you finish work

 

Katsuki watched the typing bubble pop up and disappear a few times before getting a response.

 

[DEKU] - 17:17

Oh, sure! But are you OK with waiting? I’m working a little late…

 

[YOU] - 17:17

it’s fine

 

[DEKU] - 17:17

Really? I mean *late* late, like, I’m finishing at 10pm late. (╯_╰)

 

[YOU] - 17:18

hey who are you speaking to rn. i’m used to staying up until ungodly hours.

 

[DEKU] - 17:18

I guess that’s fair!! (✯◡✯)b

 

[YOU] - 17:19

nice. i’ll come pick you up when you’re done

also i want to eat raspberries with you. is that cool.

 

[DEKU] - 17:19

HUH

WAIT WHAT

OH CRAP KACCHAN I GOTTSAGO ILL TEXT U LATR

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

Katsuki stumbled into his house, tired from having to deal with his pounding headache and monitor his short fuse at work so he didn’t blow up in an unsuspecting customer’s face. His parents were washing the dishes, and his father turned at the sound of the front door opening.

“How was the shop this afternoon, Katsuki?” he asked. Katsuki shrugged, pulling on his house shoes.

“Same as always.” His dad nodded. There were leftovers in a container his mother was holding, but he wasn’t hungry yet. Maybe he’d pick something up on the way to Deku’s work.

“We’re gonna head off to bed,” Mitsuki said, placing the container in the fridge. “Heat this up if you want something to eat, but keep it quiet.”

Katsuki just gave a tilt of his head in acknowledgement before heading up to his room, locking the door firmly behind him. With how pent-up he felt, he didn’t want to risk saying anything that could lead to an argument. Katsuki had just over an hour before Deku finished work, so he’d have to find a target quickly. Blood ran through his veins at lightning speed, and his head was like thunder, battering against his skull over and over. Katsuki certainly hadn’t missed this.

 

He opened his computer and typed in the web address for the first time in a while. The recognisable interface greeted him, and he began looking through the new posts. Katsuki hadn’t even touched it since he invited Deku to watch one of his murders, but he still navigated it as well as he had before. After a little bit of scrolling, he found someone who lived in the part of the slums he knew best so he could go off muscle memory and not have to plan out a new route. The target was a man who attempted to bribe a family into letting him marry their underage daughter. He was beaten half to death by her family members and driven out of the town. That seemed good enough. 

Reaching under his bed, Katsuki pulled out his gear, which he had kept stashed from view. He changed out of his work clothes and pulled on the black pants and compression shirt, throwing a thick hoodie over his dark outfit. He gathered the rest, his gloves, knife, and mask, in a small bag that fit comfortably over his shoulder. Katsuki glanced at the time. Oh shit. He’d been on the site longer than he thought, and he’d have to leave now if he wanted to be there before Deku finished work. Katsuki closed his laptop, shut off the lights and opened his window, letting the bitingly cold air in. He was back to a routine he was all too acquainted with.

Hase’s slums welcomed Katsuki with a sense of familiarity as he drove through the dark and dingy streets. It was strange to be back after being gone for so long and having gone through so much since his last visit. The smell of meat wafted through Katsuki’s car. At the last moment, before he left the main city, Katsuki decided he wanted to surprise Deku with some food, so he quickly found one of the last places open serving food and ordered the first thing he saw to go. It happened to be katsudon, which Katsuki was only a fan of sometimes, but he hoped it would be good enough for Deku.

 

Katsuki pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of the restaurant. He recognised Deku’s car in the corner. Slamming the door, he walked up to the front of his work and stood off to the side. It was Katsuki’s first time observing the building up close, and it was surreal to see. This place played an important part in how he met Deku. It was the first knocked-over domino that led to Katsuki being thrust into a new perspective on his life.

After checking his watch every few seconds for almost five minutes, Katsuki saw the lights inside shut off. That probably meant Deku would be coming out any second. He caught sight of himself in the reflection of the glass mirror and frowned. He looked passable, but now Katsuki was nitpicking everything about his appearance. Should he have showered before coming? It kind of slipped his mind. Was he dressed OK? He didn't think much about his fashion when he’d just thrown a red jacket over his compression shirt. Katsuki pushed up his spiky blond hair, trying to get it to sit right in the slight breeze.

 

Eventually, the side door opened, and two people came out: a tall and elegant-looking woman with jet-black hair tied into a formal bun and Deku, still in his food runner uniform with his messenger bag flung over his shoulder. As soon as his eyes landed on the younger boy, Katsuki felt a surge of electricity shoot down his spine, and he felt all the stress he’d had that day vanish like air hissing out of a balloon. Katsuki let out a soft breath, and his heartbeat drummed, his blood molten hot as it spread a warmth from his chest to the ends of his fingers. Bliss filled his mind, and Deku’s greeting was muffled from the cloud nine Katsuki was on. When Deku repeated himself with a confused look, Katsuki pulled himself back to Earth. 

His body had reacted in such a rhapsodic way when he laid eyes on Deku again. It was a little bit too intense to pass off as normal. But he hadn’t hung out with the boy in a while. Was it so wrong to be happy to see him? Katsuki could unrestrainedly admit to himself that he and Deku were friends, despite their nonconformist way of meeting. And friends are excited to see each other, right? Just because he couldn’t say it around others didn’t mean he wouldn’t feel joy seeing Deku.

 

“Kacchan, are you listening?”

Katsuki snapped back into the present and looked at Deku. He was shivering a little in his thin apron, stained around the hips from various foods. He looked cute with his rolled-up sleeves and buttons, all done up perfectly except for one at the top. Katsuki put a hand on Deku’s shoulder and guided him to the car.

“How’s it like being at work again?” he said. Katsuki had no idea what Deku had said to him earlier. The boy didn’t seem to mind and smiled at the curious question.

“Same old thing,” answered Deku. He peered over his shoulder. The woman, who Katsuki could only assume was the new boss, was out of earshot now, walking to the next street over to get to her car. “Well, without the asshole manager peering over my shoulder every two seconds.”

Katsuki laughed. As innocent as Deku looked, it was amusing to hear how venomous he could be to people he didn’t like. And Deku was one of the most understanding people on the planet. You had to be a real lousy piece of work to get on his bad side.

“I’m happy to be earning money again,” Deku continued. “It’s a distraction from all the end of year exams, at least.”

“Maybe you need to come over and study more,” joked Katsuki. Deku giggled.

“I’d love to, but you distract me too much, Kacchan.” Katsuki felt his face heat up, even in the chill of the late-night air.

 

Katsuki unlocked his car, and Deku climbed in. He flipped down the sun guard and looked at himself in the small mirror, groaning.

“Ugh. I have grease on my face.” He turned to Katsuki, who was clicking in his seatbelt. “You look nice, Kacchan. I feel kinda embarrassed in this uniform.”

Katsuki reached over and ran his thumb over Deku’s cheek. “You look fine. Don’t worry about it; it’s just us two.” He started the engine, and the car burst to life. Deku put his bag down by his feet and stared straight ahead, hands between his thighs.

His heartbeat was audible in his ears as they drove down the street towards the location of Katsuki’s target. At a stop sign, he tapped Deku on the shoulder.

“Hey. I wanted us to hang out tonight. But there’s one thing I’ve gotta do before we get out of here.”

He heard Deku’s excited gasp and couldn’t help how his adrenaline sped up. “Oh my God, you weren’t kidding? I was seriously thinking about this all shift; I couldn’t even concentrate.”

Katsuki snorted. “Wow. Hope you didn’t drop someone’s steak on the floor.” Internally, he was repeating Deku’s words. He was thinking about me?

“Come on, clearly, I’m a professional.” Deku gestured to his dirty clothes, and Katsuki chuckled. “But seriously, it’s been a while, Kacchan. When did you get your compulsion again?”

Katsuki gripped the wheel tighter. “Two days ago.”

“Oh, wow, really?”

“Yeah, this is the rhythm I’m used to. I try to hold out for at least a week, though, before I do it. But this time… it’s been really messing with me. My head’s been fuckin’ pounding all day.”

“When was the last kill?”

“The one you came with me for. Right before Halloween.”

Deku pinched his bottom lip. “Yeah, that adds up. But it seems you’re controlling it better! Last time, it was a week between murders; now, it’s been almost a month and a half!”

Katsuki didn’t reply. He drove through the quiet city, looking for a place to park and leave Deku while he committed his crime.

Deku noticed Katsuki’s silence. “Are you OK, Kacchan? Did you prepare for this?”

“Yes, Deku, clearly I’m a professional ,” he echoed. Deku smiled a little and shook his head. “Look, it’s been a while, but I’ve done this for years. I’m not an amateur. The target’s staying in the area I know best, and I’ll find a spot where you’re not seen, OK?” 

His soft green hair bounced around his face as he nodded. “OK, Kacchan.”

 

Katsuki drove out to the very edge of the slums and parked the car. He shut off the engine and handed his keys to Deku.

“Stay out of sight and lock the door when I’m gone. And just in case, promise not to open it to anyone but me, alright?”

Deku gripped the keys tightly. “Got it.”

Katsuki peeled off his red jacket, tossing it into the backseat. He felt curious eyes on his body as he reached for the more appropriate black hoodie, pulling it over his head and tugging the hood over his hair. Katsuki unzipped the small bag he’d brought along and pulled his gloves and mask on. He attached the knife sheath to his side and took a quick look at himself in the mirror. He was about to leave when Deku piped up, voice barely above a mumble.

“Kacchan?”

He craned to look over his shoulder. “What?”

“You… you’re leaving me here because you don’t want me to watch, right?”

Katsuki froze, hand on the door. He let the fabric over his head skew his vision.

“Yeah. I don’t.”

He expected Deku to be annoyed or disappointed, but instead, he saw a hand come into his vision and rest on his knee.

“I thought so. I’ve had my suspicions ever since the last time we were here. But don’t worry, Kacchan.” Katsuki looked up and saw the sympathetic smile on Deku’s face. “I’m interested in following along with your actions, but I care about you as a friend first. So if you want me to stay back and not see, I will. I have no problem with that.”

What had Katsuki done to deserve a person like Deku? Nothing in this lifetime, that was for sure. He put a gloved hand over the one on his leg, and Deku gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Thanks, Deku.”

Katsuki approached the abandoned building. There was a camera on the left, so he stuck to the right and stayed under the cover of darkness. The front door was boarded up, but the side window was smashed. Stray pieces of jagged glass were creating reflections on the tiled floor. Katsuki hoisted himself through the gap, minding his hands, and looked around the room. It was furnished more than most houses he’d seen, but that wasn't saying much. A couple of shelves and a chest of drawers had been pushed against the far wall. His target lay on a musty futon on the floor, and with each step Katsuki took, he created dust clouds around him. Crickets were the only sound reverberating in his ear besides his thumping heartbeat. Katsuki kneeled down next to the man and put his hand on his belt, feeling for his knife. He pushed the soft fabric of the blanket over the man’s shoulders, revealing his vulnerable neck. Katsuki felt the coldness of his blade when he pulled it out of its sheath.

 

But when he went to drag the knife across the skin of the man’s windpipe, he was hit with a wave of hesitance. Katsuki looked at the knife, gleaming in the dimly lit room, and he stared down at the sleeping body beneath him. His eyes widened, and he felt his throat close up.

 

Katsuki didn’t want to kill this person anymore.

 

The knife handle felt like it was burning against his palm. Katsuki’s hand quavered, and he was frozen in shock. 

I don’t want to do this. Why don’t I want to do this?

He tried to get ahold of himself. This was just some nerves. Still, Katsuki hadn’t felt this reluctant since his early years. So what was going on?

The man rolled over in his sleep, and Katsuki nearly fell backwards. He managed to stop himself from toppling. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the wrist holding the knife with his other free hand and tried to guide it to the man’s bare neck. But as soon as the blade touched his skin, Katsuki felt hot, acidic bile in his throat. He stood up, shoving the knife back onto his belt and holding his stomach. Shit, he really was going to throw up.

Fuck, fuck, don’t puke, he ordered himself. DNA. Evidence. You’ll get caught. The putrid taste reached his tongue, but Katsuki was able to swallow it down. 

He was spiralling. Why couldn’t he do it? Why wasn’t he able to do what he’d done so easily for years? Katsuki didn’t have any urge to kill anymore. It had been so strong the last few days, but it had petered out. Now, he was just a frightened teenager in a dark room with a stranger. Alone, with someone in a locked car a few blocks away waiting for him to return.

Fuck, Deku. The thought of the younger boy and those patient, unblinking eyes and accepting smiles were enough for Katsuki to head for the window and hop outside. He ran from the building, never looking back. Katsuki’s heavy breathing was the only thing discernible to him as he sprinted back to Deku.

 

Katsuki made it back to the car, urgently tapping on the window. Deku popped up from under the seat and narrowed his eyes, but he relaxed when Katsuki ripped off his mask. He unlocked the door and opened it, moving over to the passenger side to make room.

“Kacchan, are you alright?” he asked. Katsuki threw his mask and sheath in his lap and began pulling off his gloves, too. His laboured breaths hadn’t stopped.

“I’m… fine,” he panted. What could he even say? He had never aborted any of his kills before, and he had no idea why it had happened. But there was no more compulsion for harm inside him anymore. The itch was gone, even though he didn’t scratch it.

“What about your clothes?” Deku pointed at Katsuki’s arms. “Do you need new ones?”

Fuck. What was he going to tell Deku? The easy answer was the truth, but Katsuki didn’t even know what had happened. And he didn’t want to share anything with the boy until he understood why he had suddenly called off his mission.

As much as he hated lying to Deku, Katsuki needed to hide the events that had just transpired. So he just pulled off his gloves and rolled up his sleeves. “I’m fine, Deku. I didn’t get blood on myself.”

A slight tinge of worry was in Katsuki’s head as he made up an excuse. Would Deku be able to tell he was bullshitting him and call him out? Or would he hide that he knew so he could bring it up later and tell Katsuki how terrible of a person he was for lying?

In spite of Katsuki’s irrational thoughts, after a few moments of concern, Deku suddenly grinned from ear to ear. “Wow, Kacchan, that’s so impressive! You’re so amazing! I can’t believe you avoided getting it on you, especially considering how you go for the jugular vein and it tends to sprout out in every direction when cut and–”

“Deku, stop.”

The topic of violence was making Katsuki squirm in his seat. He was uneasy with discussing it in a way he had never been. Did this have something to do with why he couldn’t muster up the resolve to kill his target?

Deku looked a little sad at the disengagement, and Katsuki felt a pinch of guilt. It wasn’t his fault. Katsuki had established that he was comfortable with talking about this in the past, so to cut him off must’ve been very out of character. Katsuki composed himself, inhaling deeply before turning to Deku with the most reassuring face he could make.

“I just want to get out of this shithole and hang out with you like I planned. Everything’s fine. You trust the expert, right?”

Deku hesitated, but then went back to his trusting smile and nodded. Katsuki was about to pull his seatbelt back on when he felt a tender hand on his cheek. It was as if a thousand fireworks erupted under the touch. Katsuki turned and, in his peripherals, saw Deku rub a thumb over his skin. His mouth parted in shock, and Deku grinned sheepishly.

“You just had a bit of grime on your face.”

On the drive to their destination, Katsuki mostly listened to Deku rambling about the annoying customers he’d dealt with during his shift. Katsuki wasn’t replying much, but it didn't seem weird. He was much more of a listener during their conversations anyway. But he was only half paying attention because his mind was still racing, trying to make sense of his prior actions.

Why didn’t he kill the person he’d set out to? Katsuki had never felt such restraint when it came to murder before. But it wasn’t even out of remorse or shame– he just did not want to do it. It made him sick to consider, and he didn’t know why. 

Katsuki turned to Deku, who was still comfortably rambling away. Does it have something to do with him? He wondered whether it was a similar situation to the first time Deku was around when he committed murder, where the disgust and chagrin were cranked up to a hundred, and Katsuki had felt guilt ten times worse than he had when he was alone. But Deku didn’t watch it this time. Maybe it was just because he was aware of what he was going to do? Katsuki had no clue, and he was determined to figure it out. But for now, their time together was going to be pleasant. Katsuki wouldn’t let his uncharacteristic timidity ruin the evening.

 

Katsuki had taken the two of them to the town’s abandoned football field. It was overrun by nature, with meadows of grass reaching almost a metre in height and obscuring the lines of white paint that used to block out the perimeter of the sport. A small layer of snow covered the empty bleachers, and two goalposts towered over either side of the dark green field.

Slowing down the car, Katsuki approached the useless fence with a sign that said ‘no trespassing’. The barrier was about 10 feet long, and Katsuki easily drove around it, heading down the slight hill and parking on the grass. Deku looked around the barren field, nervous.

“Um, isn’t this illegal?”

Katsuki scoffed and unclicked his seat belt. “ This is the crime you’re worried about me committing?”

Deku shushed him. Katsuki turned off the engine and reached into the backseat for the food he’d bought. Surely it had gone a little cold, but they could enjoy it nonetheless.

“Don’t stress, Deku. No one comes out here.” He jerked his head towards the windshield. “Go sit on the hood.”

Deku did as he was instructed and jumped out of the car. The grass reached up to his waist. He climbed on the hood, making the car shake a little with his weight. Katsuki was about to close the door when he noticed Deku was already shivering in the cold. He picked up the red jacket he’d swapped for the black one and closed the door. He hopped onto the hood and handed Deku the coat. He graciously accepted the warm clothing and pulled it over his head. The shaking stopped almost instantly.

 

“What’s in the bag, Kacchan?” Deku inquired. “Did you bring Scrabble again?”

“Nope,” replied Katsuki. “I’m the ongoing champion, and I intend to keep it that way.”

Deku elbowed him. “Uh, if I recall, we’re actually tied. So we need a matchbreaker.”

“Nah,” Katsuki grinned. “I’m not giving you another chance at victory.”

“Kacchan!”

Katsuki laughed and unwrapped the plastic bag. Surprisingly, the cardboard was still a little warm when he picked it up. Deku gasped when he opened the box and revealed the delicious meal inside.

“Katsudon?” His eyes were sparkling with amazement. “Kacchan, how’d you know?”

“How’d I know what?” he countered, handing him a pair of chopsticks.

“That this is my favourite food!”

Katsuki frowned. “Is it really?”

“Yeah! I love it!” Deku picked up a piece of pork and put it in his mouth. His face lit up even more. “Oh, it’s fantastic! Try some!!”

Katsuki took a bite and was met with a satisfying surprise. Even if it wasn't as hot as he’d like, the meat was still very tasty. He scooped up some rice as well.

Deku was wolfing the food down. “Seriously, how did you know this was my favourite??” Katsuki looked to the side.

“Call it a lucky guess.” 

 

The two of them leaned back against the windshield, staring at the cloudless sky as they finished the meal. They got down to one cutlet of pork, which they each insisted the other take. Neither Katsuki nor Deku wanted to be the person to eat the last one, so they argued for a bit before giving in and leaving the last portion in the box and putting it on the roof of the car.

Deku fiddled with his chopsticks. “That was really good, Kacchan, thank you.”

Katsuki adjusted himself so his hands could cup the back of his head. “I just wish it was warmer.”

“I still loved it. Speaking of, my mom makes the best katsudon ever. You should try it sometime!”

Red eyes rolled heavenwards. “I have to meet your mom first.”

Deku giggled. “True. She has been asking who I’ve been talking to for the last few weeks.” He paused. “Do your parents know about me?”

“No.” Katsuki had been intentionally avoiding the subject. There was a very strong reason he didn’t want his parents to meet Deku, but he couldn’t reveal it to the boy just yet.

Of course, Deku was nothing but sweet in his reply. “That’s fine. I know I’ll meet them when you’re ready.” He turned to the clear indigo sky, dotted with hundreds of luminous stars. “Why’d we come out here tonight?”

Katsuki shrugged. “It’s quiet. And no one will see or overhear us talking.”

Deku nodded. “I see.” His presence next to Katsuki was reassuring, like an anchor that kept him from falling into the endless void of the sky in front of him.

“You ever do any sports here, Kacchan?”

Katsuki shook his head. “Nah. Just came when I was a kid and school events were held. I remember when it was always packed.”

“Yeah. It’s sad that it’s deteriorated over the years. All it takes is enough people not caring, and anything can start to break down.”

Katsuki turned to look at the boy beside him, feeling the cold glass on his cheek. “What about you?”

“My… dad used to take me here. Before I tried parkour, I played a lot of other sports. But none of them really piqued my interest like that one did.”

The tone of Deku’s voice had changed when he brought up his father. Katsuki felt bad for making him bring it up.

“You alright?”

Deku faced him with a perplexed look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You sounded a lot more serious as soon as you mentioned your dad.”

He let out a soft sigh, creating a cloud of hot air against the chilly breeze. “I don’t like bringing him up at all. But it’s not because I don’t want to talk to you about it. I just… it’s hard for me to remember him.”

Katsuki wondered if he should pry. Worst case scenario, Deku says he doesn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. He decided to risk it and ask.

“How long ago… did he die?”

Deku’s face changed from relaxed to something else. It was bewilderment mixed with concern, like Deku was hiding something from him.

“It was four years ago,” he finally said.

Four years… “So you must’ve been only 13. That would’ve been tough.”

Deku scratched at his neck. “Honestly, it was for the best. He was a pretty terrible person.” He didn’t elaborate. Katsuki could tell from his pursed lips he didn’t want to discuss it anymore. He didn’t push, but he was still puzzled by the strange expression Deku had made. 

 

“Can I tell you something?” Katsuki said, changing the subject. If he had made Deku uncomfortable about his dad, he might as well put his own dirty laundry out to air to make it equal.

Deku’s displeased look dissolved, and he looked eager to listen. “What’s up?”

“It’s about… the rasp- the killings. I’ve been thinking about you, specifically.”

Even in the dim light, Katsuki saw the pink tint on Deku’s face. “...Yeah?”

“I’ve been concerned… about getting caught.” 

Deku sat up in shock, his eyes bulging out of his head. “What?! Has someone found out about it? Who? What are you going to–”

Katsuki put a firm hand on Deku’s sternum and pushed him back down. He could feel the frantic drumming of the boy’s heart under his palm.

“Calm down, nerd. No one’s found me yet. But that’s what I’ve been thinking about. What will happen to you when I get caught.”

Deku frowned, his eyebrows visible through his thick green locks. “Why? What’s going on?”

He closed his eyes and put one hand on his forehead. “I just… before, I never had to worry about anyone else’s reputation when it came to the murders I was doing. When I face my consequences, the only person that will suffer is me. But now, since you’re so heavily involved, I’m worried that you being associated with a killer will end up ostracising you. And I don’t want that to happen after you’ve started to fit in.”

Deku didn’t respond immediately. He ran his fingers over the back of his palm, tracing one of the scars on his hand. Finally, he said, “I have faith you won’t get caught, Kacchan. So you don't have to lose sleep over this.”

Katsuki huffed. “Don’t be naïve, Deku. It’s a legitimate concern. What would you do if I got arrested tomorrow?”

“You won’t–”

“If I did.”

His hands continued to fidget. “In the event… that you ever did get caught, I wouldn’t worry about people shunning me. Because in my eyes, you aren’t doing any wrong. You’re killing people who deserve it. So, I wouldn’t care about what others think. I’d stand up and support you no matter what.”

 

Katsuki furrowed his brow. Deku was so selfless that it teetered on blind reverence. It was dangerous for a person to be so hopelessly devoted. But Katsuki knew there was no changing Deku’s stubborn mind. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“Deku, you can’t be so attached to me like that. When I get caught–”

“You keep saying ‘when’,” Deku interrupted. “You should be saying ‘if’. It hasn’t happened, and you don't know if it will.”

Katsuki clenched his jaw. “Deku… you’ve finally made friends. You have people that like you. And you’re OK with losing them all over this? Really?”

His voice went low, almost a mutter. “I’m used to being lonely.”

“Deku…”

“Plus–” The cheery tone was back as fast as it left. “I wouldn’t lose all the people I care about. In this hypothetical situation, I’d still find a way to talk to you.”

Katsuki pictured it: him in a prison jumpsuit, sitting behind thick glass with a telephone in his hand, talking to Deku over a distorted line. The thought of the young boy wasting his life away by sticking by his side was agonising. He wouldn't let it happen. And if Katsuki had to fight through his urges for the rest of his life to avoid getting arrested, so be it.

Deku waved his hand dismissively. “This is almost as depressing as talking about my dad. Let’s talk about something else. Plus, I know it’ll never happen. You’re too amazing to get caught.”

 

Katsuki opened his mouth to argue, but Deku was already looking at something else. He pointed up at the clear sky and smiled. “Look, the stars!”

He faced the dark blue horizon and glanced at the stars, eyes flicking between the hundreds of tiny dots in his vision. “Yep. They’re stars.”

“I think I can see a shape in…” Deku traced the air and then gasped. “There! It’s a knife!”

Katsuki’s sarcastic laugh filled the space around them. “You’re taking the piss outta me now, Deku.”

“No, no, look!” Deku shuffled closer to Katsuki until he was shoulder to shoulder with him, and Katsuki could feel the heat on his face reflected back at him.

He leaned in and drew the outline of the shape with his finger. “Do you see it?” Katsuki followed and saw the form of the knife in the stars.

“Oh, it does,” he mused. Deku nudged him in the side.

“Now you find one!”

Katsuki squinted. All the specks of light blended together for him. He turned back to Deku, who was millimetres away from his nose.

“This is lame.”

Deku’s face fell. “No it’s not!” he whined. “Come on, Kacchan.”

Groaning, Katsuki looked back at the constellations, trying to find something to make Deku happy. Maybe he could find a bunch clumped together and say it was a rock.

But as he expanded his vision, a huge outline became clear. First, he saw widespread wings that connected into a long body, and two thin lines that even looked like legs.

“Found one.”

Deku kept his eyes trained on Katsuki’s finger as he drew the image in the air, showing off the outline of a bird, flying freely through the ocean of darkness.

“It’s a bird!” Deku exclaimed. He was still very close to Katsuki, now almost lying on his shoulder. If Katsuki tilted his head a little to the right, his lips would be on Deku’s cheek. He stayed staring straight up.

“The bird is you,” he said softly. He could see Deku’s face morph out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t see his expression. “You’re a flyer. You’re free and you do whatever you want. And you belong to the skies.”

Deku didn’t respond. Katsuki could hear his staccato breaths in his ear, but he didn’t mind. Finally, after sharing silence for what felt like hours, but was really just a few seconds, Katsuki sat up on the hood and looked at Deku properly.

His eyebrows were knit together, mouth parted, and full lips tinged purple from the cold. Deku’s viridian eyes glimmered with endearment as he dragged his gaze over Katsuki’s body. He looked like he might say something, but instead let his long eyelashes flutter shut, and his lips turned into a smile.

 

This new position – Deku lying against the windshield and Katsuki sitting up on the hood – made the blond feel vulnerable. But it also made him feel safe, knowing the only irises on him were the ones who understood him best in the world. Deku still gazed at him affectionately, not saying a word, but speaking so much with his eyes. 

‘I’m here for you,’ they said. ‘I’ll listen.’

 

Okay.

 

“When I started this,” he began, voice quivering faintly. “I gave myself some rules.”

Deku tried to sit up, but Katsuki put a hand on his shoulder. He silently understood and rested back down on the glass. Katsuki’s hand remained where it was.

“The first rule was that I had to accept my fate. I wouldn’t kill a witness if I ever encountered one. It gave me the edge to be extra cautious.”

“So you weren’t going to kill me when I saw you,” said Deku.

“That was the first time anyone’s ever spotted me,” Katsuki admitted. “I wasn’t really sure what to do, so thank God it was you.” He inhaled through his teeth sharply. “The second rule… was that I had to pick people to kill that somewhat deserved it.”

Deku’s eyes widened. “So–”

“You were right. I didn’t want to say you were, but you were completely correct.” Katsuki’s blunt nails dug into Deku’s shoulder. “I don’t kill for vengeance. I hate that I’ve been… cursed with this. But if I can minimise the harm and only hurt people who have done inexcusable things to others. It makes me feel… a little less guilty.”

“That’s why you use the forums,” muttered Deku. “Wow, so fasc–”

Katsuki gripped Deku harder. “ Don’t say you find me fascinating. I’m not a petri dish.”

The younger boy closed his lips tightly. “Sorry, Kacchan.”

With one hand still on Deku’s shoulder, Katsuki crouched forward and put his head in his other hand. He was starting to tremble.

“I…fucking hate it,” he croaked. “I hate doing it, Deku. After it’s done, I feel so fucking revolted with myself. I want to be able to live my life and not have to do it anymore. But you don’t understand. I have to do it, or else I…” He trailed off. Deku’s hand touched Katsuki’s, and the contact made his body feel warm all over.

“Kacchan. You’re a good person.”

Katsuki shook his head. “No… No, Deku, you don’t get it. You haven’t seen how… dangerous I get when I try to repress it. I literally turn into a m–”

“The M word is forbidden, Kacchan.”

 

Katsuki sniffed and pulled his hands back to his body, shoving them in his pockets. He lay down against the glass, facing the boy beside him.

“Deku… I… I hate doubting you, but are you sure… you want to stay my friend?” asked Katsuki slowly. “I mean, I know we’re… you know, we get along and whatever, but think about how much trouble you could get in.”

Deku pondered on the pessimistic words. He was always being forced to reassure Katsuki that he was going to stay by his side. But Katsuki couldn’t help it. If he lost Deku, he didn’t know what he would do with himself. The thought of not having the positive and comforting presence of the boy in his life was agonising. Even if it was selfish, Katsuki wanted Deku to be with him for the rest of the foreseeable future.

“Kacchan, I was initially drawn to you for my own self-centred reasons,” Deku stated. “I stalked you and showed up at your house uninvited. I wanted to learn more about a real-life killer because I thought it would be fasc- …riveting.” He flashed a bashful smile. “I forced myself into your life. I’m really not this virtuous person that you think you’ve corrupted. I’ve done terrible things, too. But now, the two of us… we’re more than that. We’re partners. If you don’t want to kill anymore, I’ll help you fight the urges.”

Deku’s hair was floating around his face with the late breeze. His expression was unobscured, and Katsuki saw every detail of his features. Nothing in his words or manner hinted at animosity. It never had.

“Let me bear the burden of this with you, Kacchan. Let me be the ground you land on when you trip and fall.” 

 

Katsuki felt like sobbing. Hot tears threatened to spill out of the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let himself cry. 

“I’ve had nightmares about you,” he revealed. Deku blinked in shock.

“Me?”

“Not you, so to speak,” he clarified. “Just… your eyes. You always look at me like….”

How could he put it into words? Deku looked at him like he was the most important person in the world. Like nothing Katsuki did was ever wrong. Deku admired him and wanted to impress him all the time. Sometimes, it was a little unsettling how devoted he was. But it also felt nice, knowing that if the entire world was against Katsuki, there would be one person by his side no matter what.

“You always look at me like I’m flawless,” he said. “And I’ve had dreams where… you don’t look at me like that anymore.”

Deku ran a hand through his hair, and it spread out across the glass like thick vines. “You know this already, I'm sure. But I promise, no matter what I see you do or think, good or bad, I won’t look at you any differently.” He interlocked his fingers across his chest and took a deep breath.

“I think it’s a little ridiculous that the bad side of our personality is seen as our true colours,” he pondered. “As if when we’re angry or mad, that’s the person we really are, and when we’re nice and happy, that’s us being fake. Everyone has negative and positive emotions, and showing the ‘bad’ ones doesn’t mean you can't be a kind person.”

He cleared his throat before continuing. “There are exceptions, of course. But I’d like to think I’ve seen the real you, Kacchan. And your intentions speak volumes about why you do what you do. Especially since you only target people who deserve it. The only one that was directed towards someone who didn’t was…”

“Yeah,” Katsuki finished. “The first one.”

Deku’s voice shifted when he spoke again, “You told me it was an accident, right?”

“Self-defence, yeah. That’s all it took to trigger… this.”

“But he did attack you first.”

Katsuki looked at the scars on his palm. The pain of the cuts came back to him briefly. “Yeah. But that’s not enough to deserve to die.”

 

Deku suddenly sat up, face locked in a serious expression. Katsuki frowned and pushed himself up on his elbows.

“You good?”

Deku opened his mouth, then closed it and looked down. He brought his knees close to his chest and hugged them tightly.

“Kacchan, there’s something I’ve been thinking about ever since you told me about your first murder.”

He pursed his lips. “What?”

Deku sighed anxiously. “This is gonna sound… totally ridiculous if I’m wrong… but when you killed him… you said he died from bleeding out, right?”

Confused, Katsuki nodded slowly. “Uh… yeah.” He still didn’t like remembering the attack that much, but Deku’s solemn face convinced him to go along.

“And you said you were 14, so it was four years ago,” Deku continued. “During the fall festival, right?”

“Deku, what the fuck are you getting at?”

Deku shrunk, squeezing his legs tightly and covering the lower half of his face with them. His voice was muffled when he uttered his next words.

“Kacchan, I think the man you killed was my father.”

 

Katsuki nearly leapt into the air in surprise. He felt like he couldn't contain his eyes in their sockets as they stared at Deku in shock. 

“WHAT?!?!”

His cry echoed through the empty field, disturbing a flock of birds perching in the nearby trees. Deku put his hands up, trying to calm Katsuki down.

“I know, I know!!” he exclaimed. “It sounds insane. But when you were telling me about it, there were just too many details that sounded familiar. And it started to click for me.” Deku lowered his voice. “My dad was killed four years ago as well, and during the fall festival, too. But my mom and I were kept in the dark during the whole investigation. We didn’t even know how he died for a few months. All we knew was that he had been killed in a robbery gone wrong.”

The cogs in Katsuki’s head whirred as he recalled all the circumstances surrounding both his first kill and Deku’s father’s death. They’d taken place at the same time, and both died in the same way. And Katsuki knew that his complicity had been covered up as a simple robbery because of his age.

“When the cops finally told us what had happened, we only got the small details,” said Deku. “His cause of death was blood loss after being pierced by a sharp wire. There were no charges to come of it because it was an accident and a minor was involved. And that was all they told my mother and I. We never got any proper closure.”

 

Katsuki was utterly flummoxed. He couldn’t believe the chain of events that had transpired in order for him to be in this exact situation. All the stars above him had aligned and led to him being next to the child of the first person he’d killed. The most thoughtful, empathetic person he had and would ever meet. And when Katsuki met his gaze, Deku was still looking at him with the unfalteringly kind guise he always did.

“Well, now you definitely have reason to hate me,” Katsuki muttered. Deku laughed.

“Oh, no, are you kidding me, Kacchan?” he chuckled. “He totally deserved it.”

Frozen from the bluntness, Katsuki gawked at Deku. He was grinning unapologetically.

“My dad was a neglectful scumbag who took control of everything my mom owned,” Deku explained. “When I was a kid, he manipulated her into signing away all her assets to him, effectively keeping her from leaving and getting help from anyone else.” His smile dropped. “And he… he drank a lot. I’ve got so many memories of trying to defend my mom from getting hit, only to get slapped myself.” Deku rubbed the side of his cheek, and Katsuki felt fury build inside of him at the idea of a small, defenceless Deku being abused.

“Our lives were improved dramatically when he was gone,” insisted Deku. “So thank you, Kacchan. You saved me without even knowing it. I might not have even been here if it weren’t for you.”

 

Katsuki ruminated on the idea of never meeting Deku. It would have definitely led to much less stress and anxiety in his life. But the thought of Deku being… No. His heart ached too much at the thought. It didn’t matter what catalyst led to their paths crossing. Katsuki couldn’t imagine a world where Deku didn’t exist.

All he said to the anticipating Deku was, “Crazy coincidence that I ended up meeting the bastard’s son.”

Deku grinned. “I guess it must be fate.”

“Sure, nerd, whatever you want to believe.”

 

If Deku hadn't been attached to Katsuki before, he was now. What would have been the final straw for the rest of the population only seemed to draw Deku in closer. Even though it was unbelievable what they were bonding over, it was nice to be able to open up and discuss a part of his life Katsuki’d kept bottled up for so long. 

There’s a reason you keep it hidden, his brain reminded him. Because what you’ve done is deplorable.

He knew that. Katsuki accepted that he was a terrible person years ago. But there was someone who accepted him, flaws and all, and he wouldn’t ruin this friendship for Deku.

Katsuki remembered the murder that he was supposed to commit a few hours prior. The one he had backed out of. What was different? He still didn’t know. Maybe Deku would have an opinion of it.

The insecure part of his mind piped up again. Deku only reached out to you because he approved of who you were killing. He’ll call you a coward for not going through with it.

Katsuki looked at Deku, who was back to tracing the stars. He looked so serene, muscles relaxed, and eyes reflecting a thousand stars' light. He didn’t have a cruel bone in his body.

 

No, he won’t.

 

Katsuki’s phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket, and he jerked at the sudden movement. He pulled it out to turn off the notifications. The message popped up—it was from the group chat with all his friends. Deku was peering over to see who had texted.

“Have the guys been talking to you?” Katsuki asked. 

Deku nodded happily. “Yeah, they text me every so often. They’ve all been really sweet!”

“Good.” Katsuki tapped on his screen. “I’ll add you to this group chat we have.”

“I’d like that.”

After adding Deku’s contact to the chat, Katsuki turned his phone on silent so it wouldn’t disturb him anymore. Deku was tapping his fingers on his arm.

“So, you’ve known those guys since you were all kids?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Same elementary and middle schools. We all just kinda stuck to each other.”

Deku sighed wistfully. “I wish we could’ve met when we were younger. Maybe we could have been childhood friends too!”

Katsuki scoffed. “I don’t think so. You’re way too nice, and I was a little asshole when I was a kid.”

“You can’t have been that bad, Kacchan.”

“Oh, I was. Believe me.”

Deku rolled his eyes playfully. “I have a hard time imagining you being a mean child.”

“You’re obviously not imagining hard enough, then. I was a fucking menace at four years old.”

Laughter filled the empty space. “Alright, Kacchan. Whatever you say.”

Katsuki fidgeted. “So. Uh.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think. Of… my friends.”

Deku brightened up. “Oh, they’re great! I think I’m getting along with them well!” He held up a hand, ticking off a finger for each friend. “Kaminari is pretty funny, even if he can sometimes be a little… perverse.”

“Yeah, you got that right,” muttered Katsuki.

“Kirishima is such a sweetheart,” Deku continued. “He’s always checking up on me and asking if I need anything. He took advanced math when he was in my year, so he gives me some help with that.”

Katsuki felt his jaw stiffen. It was purely platonic, wasn’t it? He shouldn’t feel mad. But then the memory of Deku kissing Kirishima on the cheek invaded his mind, and his stomach boiled with anger.

“Ashido– I mean Mina, is really nice and the type of supportive friend I’ve always dreamed of. Sero has been trying to get me to introduce him to one of my classmates… but I’m no help since I don’t have any reason to talk to him either. And Jirou… She still acts a little strange around me. But that might be her charm, I don’t know. I… think she likes me.”

Deku was suddenly blinking back tears. “I– All I’ve ever wanted was for people to accept me. You know I’ve struggled with that. And with what I was going through at home… I kind of missed the cut off to connect with anyone. So I’ve been alone for a while.”

Katsuki’s chest felt heavy, and his gaze softened. Deku sniffed and rubbed the dampness from his eyes.

“When I was a kid, the thing I wanted most in the world was… best friends. To be close to people. I wished so hard for people that would notice my absence. To have friends that thought, ‘We should call Izuku. We want to hang out with him’. So now, it’s strange to get home and have messages from people who care about what I’m doing and how I’m feeling. But I wouldn’t change it for anything, Kacchan. You’re lucky to have had such strong friends throughout your life. I’m thankful you introduced me to them. And I’m thankful for you too, of course.”

 

Katsuki didn’t know how to respond. He was always bad at comforting people with words. So, instead, he put a gentle hand on Deku’s arm. That seemed to do the trick, and Deku’s teary breathing stopped. Blotches of pink still remained on his face, and the capillaries of his eyes were tinted dark red.

He looked at the wet spot on his forearm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to cry all over your jacket. And sorry if I… kind of just dumped all the terrible things that have happened in my life on you.”

Katsuki shrugged. “Hey, I’m not one to judge for that.” He paused. “It is kind of weird that the only things we know about each other are our deepest secrets.”

Deku wiped his eyes again, clearing them of the emotional tears. “Well, asking the hard questions gives a good idea of character.”

“Fair enough.”

Deku leaned back against the windshield and Katsuki joined him, facing the night.

“Is… there anything you want to know about me…?” Deku queried carefully. Katsuki brooded. There wasn’t much he could ask to get to understand Deku better. But there were a bunch of little things he wanted to know. Things that friends generally knew after a week, not two months.

“When’s your birthday?” 

Deku grinned. “July 15. What about you?”

“20th of April.”

“Aw, man,” pouted Deku regretfully. “Now I have to wait until next year to get you a present.” He tapped his chin. “What’re your parent’s names?”

“Mitsuki and Masaru. Yours?”

“Inko and Hisashi."

"What’s your favourite colour?”

“Orange.”

“Mine’s green.”

Katsuki smirked. “This is fun. Now tell me another secret.”

“I’m the most boring person on the planet, Kacchan,” said Deku. “I have no more secrets.”

Katsuki thought about what to ask. It was true there weren’t that many incriminating things about Deku that Katsuki didn’t already know. But then he got an idea.

“What does Deku mean?”

 

Deku turned red and faced away from Katsuki. The blond sat up and leaned over Deku.

“Hey, don’t look away!” he protested. “Tell me!”

Deku’s green eyes peeked through his scarred fingers. “It’s… it’s kind of stupid now that I think about it…”

“Just spill it.” Katsuki peeled Deku’s hands from his face and lay beside him.

Deku was quiet, leaving the cricket to fill the silence. Then he asked, “Kacchan, if you could have any power, what would it be?”

Katsuki frowned. Not the question he was expecting to be asked. He shrugged. “I dunno. Something flashy.”

“I think I’d like to have something… that could help others,” Deku said. “It doesn’t have to be the most powerful, just something that could bring hope to people.”

Katsuki shook his head. “What does this have to do with your name?”

Deku covered his eyes again. “Don’t… make fun of me, OK? But… I once had this dream, a really vivid one. In it, I was a little bit older, and I was saving people. I don’t remember if I was actually a superhero or anything, but… people were calling me ‘Deku’. I woke up, and I liked how it sounded. So I said if I ever made a friend, I’d ask them to call me that.” 

Katsuki listened to his explanation. It wasn’t what he thought it’d be, and it was admittedly a little childish. But it seemed to mean a lot to Deku, so he wasn’t too upset about being tricked into calling him some sort of faux hero name.

“That’s seriously what it was?” Katsuki quipped. “Some sort of alternate universe where you’re a hero?”

Deku whined. “It sounds so much lamer when you say it!!”

“Man, I can’t believe I thought it might mean something cool.”

Deku took one hand off his blushing face. “You thought it was cool…?”

Katsuki flicked him on the nose. “So, you want me to call you by your real name instead? Midoriya?”

“No!” Deku cried. “No, no, not that.”

Katsuki hesitated. “Izuku, then?”

Somehow, Deku turned an even darker shade of red. “Deku is fine. I like how it sounds coming from you.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Ah– don’t worry about it.”

 

It was probably past midnight now, but Katsuki wasn’t tired. Deku didn’t seem sleepy either. And he didn’t want the night to end yet.

“Have you ever come out here after this place shut down?” he asked.

“No,” Deku replied. “But I heard a lot of rumours that teenagers and young people would come and try to climb the goalposts.”

A sly grin grew across Katsuki’s face. “Dare you to do it.”

Deku spluttered. “N-No! I’ll just break all my limbs like everyone else has!”

Katsuki waved his hand as if it was no big deal. “Broken bones heal to be stronger afterwards.”

The younger boy shuddered. “I-I know that. I fractured my arm once when I first started parkour. It was awful. I don’t want to imagine what a broken bone feels like.”

“Fractured and broken bones are the same thing, Deku.”

He turned to Katsuki in disbelief. “What?”

“Same thing. Fracture is just the medical term.” He stuck his thumb out in the direction of the goalpost. “Come on, at least try.”

Deku shook his head. “Nuh-uh.”

Katsuki huffed and jumped off the hood, shaking the car from the uneven balance. “Then I’ll do it, scaredy-cat.” He pushed through the tall grass and felt his way towards the soft material that wrapped around the leg of the goalpost. It was nearly ice cold, but Katsuki was determined to prove himself. He hoisted himself up, gripping the pole as tight as he could and pushing his body up with his legs.

“Kacchan!” Deku’s desperate cries were resounding around the empty field. Katsuki snuck a glance behind him and saw the boy standing up on the car's hood, hands clutched over his chest in worry.

Katsuki ignored him and pulled himself up to the thin bar, balancing with all his might so he didn’t topple over. It was slightly narrower than he had expected, but he could manage. He grinned and beckoned to Deku to join him.

“I’ve got a much better view of the stars from here!”

 

Katsuki watched Deku ponder for a few seconds before hopping off the car and hurrying over to the post, grass creating stains on his pants as he ran.

“Good to know you still have some guts, Deku,” Katsuki called out as Deku manoeuvred around the foot of the goalpost, trying to figure out the best angle to start climbing.

“Shut up, Kacchan,” he mumbled back. He managed to pull himself up past the foam and onto the metal, hissing as his hands gripped the cold surface.

“You got it?” Katsuki watched cautiously as Deku pushed himself up to the strait bar, his limbs shaking as he tried to regain his equilibrium.

“Hey, I got you.” Katsuki held one of Deku’s arms and got him to stop quivering. He adjusted his legs and sat next to Katsuki, feet dangling off the side.

“Thanks,” breathed Deku. His face was still a little pale. Katsuki looked up, trying to distract him.

“Hey, you can see the sky so much more clearly.” He pointed up. “Look, I think I can see a planet.”

Deku followed his finger. “Really? I don’t see any. Which one?”

“Uranus.”

Deku slowly turned to him, disappointment filling his green eyes. Katsuki laughed at his unimpressed face.

“Hilarious, Kacchan.”

“I know.”

Deku rolled his eyes. Katsuki was still holding onto his arm, and he shimmied a little closer. When he turned to the boy next to him, his focus was on the deep blue night sky. Katsuki could see his eyes flickering up and down.

“Whatcha looking for?”

“There might actually be a planet up there,” Deku mused. “I’m trying to figure out which one it is.”

“See?” grinned Katsuki. “I knew there was one.”

“Oh, be quiet.” Katsuki felt Deku move his arm so he was holding Katsuki’s hand, and he squeezed it sharply. Katsuki’s breath paused as he glanced down at their interlocked fingers. He was just trying to keep his balance. It wasn’t anything deeper.

“Ah, I know which one it is.”

Katsuki met his expecting face. “Which one?”

“Venus.”

Katsuki looked up. “Where?”

Deku leaned over and softly grabbed Katsuki’s face, cool fingers pressing against his cheeks. He tilted the blond’s chin up and then pointed. 

“The brightest one. Just next to that clump of stars.”

He could see it now. The shining, radiant planet stood out from the other smaller dots. It was hard to believe Katsuki was looking at a whole other planet. His existence suddenly felt very fragile, like nothing he did really mattered on the scale of the universe.

“Cool, right?”

Deku grounded his cynical mind. The boy was his own planet, pulling Katsuki in and making his insignificance irrelevant. Katsuki would orbit Deku for as long as he felt the need to be with him. The unfathomable size of the universe would be a passing thought. Because to Katsuki, his entire world was right beside him.

 

“OK, I wanna get off now,” Deku pleaded. His hand was still locked with Katsuki’s, but he pulled it away and wiped the sweat off his palms on his thigh. “I don’t like the idea of just dropping down, but…”

“Why don’t you do a flip, parkour wizard?” Katsuki prompted. Deku groaned.

“That’s not what parkour is, Kacchan.”

“So is that a no?”

Deku peered over the edge, gripping the metal bar with all his strength. “It looks like this might be around three metres high… that’s a safe distance for a free fall, but if I were to flip, I’d have to time it right and make sure I straighten out before I hit the ground, which means I have to spin and straighten in less than a second, assuming I fall at a speed of 9 metres a second… that should be doable, but I-“

“Deku.”

Deku snapped out of his rambling. “Sorry. I’m just worried.”

“About what?”

“Well… what if I fail?”

Katsuki wanted Deku to see how great he was on his own. He needed the encouragement he’d given to others reflected back to him.

“What if you fly?”

Deku exhaled a little. “I’ll… give it a go.” He shuffled over to the other side of the goalpost, holding onto the vertical bar as he shakily stood up. Katsuki watched with bated breath as Deku leapt off the metal and soared into the air. Time slowed down for Katsuki as he watched the boy fly through the dark, azure cloak of the night sky. Deku threw himself into a flip and spun before straightening out and landing perfectly on his feet. He visibly winced a little from the impact, but his smile and wave back to Katsuki indicated he was fine.

 

“I did it, Kacchan!”

 

Katsuki clapped, but when he raised both hands to applaud, he lost his balance and toppled over the side, plummeting towards the ground before his mind could react. He only had time to instinctively put his arms in front of his face before he hit the hard earth, knocking all the wind from his lungs.

Through his ringing ears, he vaguely heard Deku cry out and rush over. Katsuki’s body ached all over, but nothing was too bad. Deku’s arms were on his shoulders, pushing him to sit up on his knees.

“Kacchan, oh my God, are you OK?!” he shrieked. Katsuki couldn’t blame him for being a little hysterical. That was a pretty nasty fall. Now he knew why this spot had a reputation for injuries.

“Just got a mouthful of weeds,” he choked out.

“Oh jeez, I knew we shouldn’t have climbed up there.” Deku was checking Katsuki for wounds, and he batted the boy's hand away.

“I’m alright,” reassured Katsuki, getting to his feet. He was a little dizzy when he stood up straight, but his vision stopped being blurry after a few seconds. “You have to teach me your skills. I need to learn how to land more gracefully.”

Deku couldn’t help but laugh, but his eyes were still filled with concern. Katsuki brushed the blades of grass out of his face and turned around to walk back to the car. To his shock, a flock of sea birds were crowded around his windshield, tearing at the plastic bag on the roof.

“Oh, fuck,” Katsuki wheezed. “The leftover food.”

Deku gasped and suddenly sprinted back, shouting at the birds and scaring them off. Katsuki would’ve laughed at the sight if it didn’t hurt his ribs. He hobbled back to his vehicle, where Deku was sadly staring at the remains of the katsudon. He opened the cardboard box, showing its contents- or lack thereof- to Katsuki.

“Kacchan, they took the last pork cutlet.”

Katsuki blinked in disbelief for a few seconds before bursting into uproarious laughter, which Deku joined in on. The sound of his friend’s joy was saccharin to his ears. Katsuki didn’t even care about the pain shooting through his bruised abdomen.  

It was close to the witching hour when the two boys got back to the Bakugou residence. Katsuki had put Deku in charge of driving, since his lungs hadn’t quite recovered from the tumble, and he needed to rest his body. He had extended an invitation for the boy to stay the night since it was getting so late, which was eagerly accepted. Once they pulled up to the driveway, Katsuki led the way into his room through the familiar tree by his window, grimacing a little as he lifted himself up through the branches.

Deku was right behind him, and he shut the window once they got inside Katsuki’s room. The house was toasty and instantly made them both feel better being out of the cold. Katsuki pulled off his shirt and jacket and peered down at his abdomen. He clicked his tongue at the sight of a bright red mark forming just under his ribs. Deku slipped off the red jumper and folded it up neatly. He gave Katsuki a sympathetic look.

“Oh, Kacchan, that looks pretty bad,” he lamented.

Katsuki pulled a long-sleeved shirt out from his drawer and pulled it over his head. “It’s nothing. I’ll just ice it.”

“Want me to get it for you?”

Katsuki shook his head. “I’ll do it.” He picked out another shirt and a pair of sweatpants and threw them at Deku. “Here. Get changed while I’m gone.” Katsuki barely caught Deku’s thank you before he quietly slinked out of his room and crept down to the kitchen.

 

In the car, Deku had asked him if he would be able to meet his parents the next morning, but Katsuki planned to leave before they woke up. Deku couldn’t hide his dismay, but understood. Katsuki had told him that he’d drive them back to his workplace in the morning to return to Deku’s car, and then both boys would drive to school together. Deku already had everything he needed in his bag, so it was a good proposal.

Katsuki found an ice pack in the freezer and wrapped a hand towel around it. He pressed the pack to his developing bruise, hissing a little at the icy feel. After the initial contact, Katsuki started to feel better, and he returned upstairs. Behind the wall, he could hear a hushed voice. When he opened the door, he saw Deku on the phone, apologizing frantically. He’d changed into the clothes Katsuki had given him. The sight of Deku wearing his clothes stirred something deep inside of him.

“I-I’m so so sorry, Mom,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to worry you; I was just having such a good time that I wasn’t checking my phone!”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. His mom was calling him this late at night?

“I- Yes, I’ve read your messages now.” Deku kept his voice down as much as he could as he apologised. “Yes, I’m safe, I’m staying at Kacchan’s house… well, it was just so late and he said it would be easier to go back… OK, I promise. I’ll message you as soon as we wake up… OK, Mom, I love you, and I’m sorry again. Please get some sleep.”

Katsuki smirked as Deku hung up. “She tear you a new one?”

“No, she- she’s usually pretty relaxed about what I do as long as I keep in touch,” murmured Deku. “But, uh, I didn’t answer any of her messages all night, so she’s been worried sick. I feel really bad for worrying her.”

“You got permission to stay?”

Deku nodded, anxiously running his hands on the back of his neck. “Yeah… but I might be in for a scolding when I get home tomorrow…”

Katsuki chuckled, turning off the overhead light and flicking on the lamp beside his bed. “Alright, nerd, I hope you can deal with the floor, because I’m not putting you in the lounge room.”

Deku’s head snapped up. “Wait, I’m sleeping in here?”

Katsuki chucked a pillow at him, which he reflexively caught. “Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all! A-And the floor’s fine!”

Katsuki pulled a couple of spare blankets from his closet. “Good. You better not snore.” He climbed into bed, holding the ice pack as he pulled the thick duvet over his body. “I’m out. Turn off the light when you go to sleep.”

Katsuki heard shuffling as Deku set up his bed, laying the blankets over the carpet and setting up the pillows on one edge. He let out a giant yawn before addressing Katsuki.

“Kacchan, can I tell you something?”

He grunted. “Make it quick, nerd. I’m tired.”

“Tonight… you were so much more relaxed than I’ve ever seen you,” he said. “It was like nothing in the world could bother you. Well, except falling from the goalpost.”

Katsuki hummed in agreement. He really was at ease that night. It was so refreshing to be unabashedly himself and not have to worry about impressing anyone or going along for the sake of a shitty reputation. Deku was the only person he could loosen up around.

 

“It must’ve been because you’d gotten rid of the compulsion.”

 

Katsuki froze. He’d had such a good time that he forgot he’d pretended that he’d gone through with the murder instead of running away. Katsuki said nothing as Deku whispered goodnight and clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into pitch blackness.

Deku fell asleep surprisingly fast, but despite being exhausted and injured, Katsuki’s eyelids refused to close. He was thinking too much about his murderous urges and what had happened the previous night.

What he knew for a fact was he did have the impulse that day. The headaches and snappy attitude were proof. But it had vanished without Katsuki having to kill anyone. When did it disappear? Katsuki scoured through his mind, trying to pinpoint the time he stopped wanting to harm.

Then Katsuki realised. Like a light switch, it clicked in his mind and shone a beam of truth on what he had kept in the dark the whole time.

 

It went away when he saw Deku.

 

That high Katsuki felt when he saw his friend for the first time in a while wasn’t just regular anticipation for the idea of hanging out. It was the same euphoric feeling he got when his hands gripped a knife and took life, feeling the bliss fill his body as the blood drained from his victim’s neck.

Lying motionless in his bed, Katsuki was shaken to his core. Could the impulse actually be subdued with just Deku’s presence instead of homicide? If so, why were the two linked if they had nothing to do with each other? Did that mean, since he’d already gotten that fulfilling feeling from interacting with Deku prior, when Katsuki went to murder his target, he no longer needed to satisfy his compulsion? It would explain why he felt so sick at the idea and backed out of it.

Katsuki sat up and looked at Deku, sleeping peacefully on the floor. He couldn’t grasp what this meant for their relationship yet. But he did know that his feelings for Deku went beyond that of just a close friend. It felt more carnal and deep-rooted in his soul. Like he might die without the boy in his life, just as he used to feel he may die when he ignored his deadly impulses. Katsuki needed to decipher this sensation. A paradigm shift was occurring. Deku and Katsuki’s relationship was as intense and burning as the brightest star in their sky. However, without proper communication and understanding, he wouldn’t be able to stop it from eventually increasing in magnitude before erupting into a cataclysmic supernova. 

 

Notes:

yeah. katsuki is fucking down bad

Chapter 10: A Parent

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=xvICXlypTjOqdu4yo4EkHA

i am SO SOO sorry this took me a full week to finish!!! this definitely isnt the chapter that i think you guys deserve for waiting that long so i am hard at work writing the next one to get it done soon!!! hope you enjoy this one anyway <3 its 8.8k words

The sound of Katsuki turning the page of his sketchbook was the only thing he could hear in the empty shop. Once again, it was close to the time when he had to lock the doors and shut off the lights. There had been no customers for the last 45 minutes, and Katsuki had already swept the floor, cleaned out the changerooms and organised all the rails of clothing.

He was bored out of his mind, so he had flipped to a new page in the book and picked up his pencil.

Lead smudged against his palms as Katsuki outlined strokes of a face, an arm, a hand, whatever he could think of. Most of the time, he drew inspiration from the people around him, but since no one was around, Katsuki unconsciously defaulted to recalling the face he had studied so closely he could identify it in his sleep.

The page began filling up with drawings of Deku. Katsuki sketched out his big, doe eyes, making sure to pay attention to his long eyelashes that cast slight shadows every time he shut his eyelids. Katsuki knew about every scar on Deku's arm, from all the scrapes and falls he'd gotten as a traceur. He could mark out every freckle that lived on his soft skin, the ones on his cheeks that darkened when he blushed and the ones that trailed down his neck and dotted his chest and shoulders. He knew how Deku's smile crinkled up his eyes and spread across his entire face, rarely leaving.

Katsuki tapped his pencil against his lip. The once empty page was now full and covered in sketches of Deku from corner to corner. It was just like muscle memory. Katsuki couldn't even draw himself this well.

As he turned to a new page, Katsuki's mind began reflecting on the somewhat new realisation that he had quelled his compulsion for murder some other way, and it was very likely that it had something to do with Deku. He hadn't revealed this new hypothesis to the boy yet. It was still a shocking revelation, and Katsuki had to figure out exactly what it meant in his tortured mind. His impulses had never made logical sense, so it was difficult for him to decipher. Had it been entirely replaced, or would that compulsion to kill still live on, buried deep inside of him? Did it have something to do with Deku's proximity? He had been mostly absent from Katsuki's life the two weeks prior to the failed murder attempt. What was he hoping to get out of it? Eternal companionship? What Katsuki really wanted was to be free from the curse that had tormented him for years, and if Deku was the key to it, he would do everything in his power to keep the boy in his life.

 

"Excuse me, but aren't you supposed to be working?"

Katsuki slammed his book shut and looked up with wide eyes. Who he thought was a customer turned out to be Deku himself, leaning over with his elbows on the counter. Katsuki didn't even hear the door open. Deku looked like he had just stepped off the page of Katsuki's sketchbook, except his uniform, which he normally wore to perfection, was a bit ruffled up. His tie, which he had trouble tying anyway, was loose around his neck, and the flaps of his collar were upturned. It looked like he had just finished running but wasn't out of breath. Deku was just waiting, flashing Katsuki a cheeky smile. Oh, that's new.

"You got your braces off," Katsuki said. Deku beamed and put his hand over his mouth.

"Ah, yeah, I did! Just in time for Christmas too! I ran over here from after I got out of the appointment! I was worried I was gonna miss you!"

Katsuki checked the time; only three minutes were left until he had to shut the doors. "You could have just texted me."

"I know, but I wanted to see you in person," smiled Deku.

Katsuki couldn't lie to himself and say he didn't feel the same. He could almost feel the dopamine flooding his veins with Deku's presence.

"You were drawing again?" he asked. "Can I finally see?"

Katsuki felt his ears get red hot, so he shoved the sketchbook under the register. "Not a chance."

Deku pouted. "Aww…"

Katsuki cleared his throat. "So, what'd you want to tell me so bad you ran across the goddamn town?"

"Oh, right!" Deku raised his hands to the ceiling triumphantly. "My exams for the year are all over! So we can hang out more during these last few weeks of school and over winter break!"

"Oh, good," mused Katsuki. "No more sneaking out in the middle of the night and scaring your mom half to death."

Deku chuckled. "Yeah… she wasn't super happy about that."

"My mom would've beat my ass for ignoring her calls. Yours must be a lot nicer."

Deku's face lost a bit of its colour, and Katsuki realised he had chosen the wrong words to use.

"I mean— shit, I didn't—"

But as soon as it left, Deku's smile returned and stifled any of Katsuki's woes. "It's fine, Kacchan. Don't worry. My mom was a little upset that I didn't answer her, and she scolded me a little when I got home, but ultimately, she's just happy I've got a friend after so long."

 

Katsuki recalled the faint image of Deku's mother, a shorter woman who had passed down her wide grin and soft features to her son. From how Deku had described her, she was a much more involved parent than his own. Katsuki's parents had always let him reign free, believing that real-life experiences would mould him more than lectures and futile punishments. It wasn't the most foolproof way to raise a child; after all, he had always struggled with regulating his emotions because of the 'tough love' he would get shown, but he knew his parents loved him regardless. On the other hand, Deku's mother sounded like he had raised her son with as much care and love as she could have given, even when times were rough. Deku always talked about his mother with a smile on his face. There was no doubt the Midoriya's familial bonds were stronger than the Bakugou's.

"Hey, I've gotta lock those doors." Katsuki came out from behind the counter and reached for the keychain on his belt.

"Oh, right! I can leave! I'll wait outside!"

"Nah, just stick with me." Deku shuffled behind him as he walked over to the front door and locked it, flipping the sign over to 'closed.'

"Gonna turn off the lights," warned Katsuki. "Get out your phone."

"Ah, yep!" Deku fumbled for his phone and turned on the flashlight, giving Katsuki a thumbs up. Katsuki flipped off the overhead lights and plunged the store into darkness, only illuminated by Deku's torch.

"Alright, let's get outta here before you wet yourself." Katsuki plucked Deku's phone from his hand and grabbed him by the wrist, leading the way to the staff room. He could feel Deku's pulse quicken under his fingers.

 

Katsuki opened the door and returned the phone to Deku, picking up his bag from the table. He was pulling his jacket over his head when he heard the boy pipe up.

"Kacchan, I wanted to ask you something."

Katsuki's blond hair popped up from the hood, and he straightened the fabric out. "Yeah?"

"My… my mom asked if I could invite you over," he said nervously. "She said she wants to meet the guy I've been hanging out with for the last few weeks."

Katsuki paused and darted his eyes to meet Deku's. "Meet me?"

He nodded. "Yeah! I guess since she knows I stayed over at your place, she's assuming we're pretty serious."

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, and Deku immediately backpedalled.

"I mean—! Like, friendship serious!!" he clarified, holding his hands out in front of him defensively. "You know, since it's been hard for me to keep stable friends, she's just looking out for me and making sure that I'm happy with the people I'm hanging out with, and I'm really happy with you so she just wants to meet you in person and see what you're like and see how amazing you are—"

"Alright, Deku, I get it." Katsuki opened the back door, and the two of them stepped out into the icy cold. "What does she want? To talk?"

"Oh— she said she could make dinner for the three of us!" Deku chirped. "She did ask if your parents could come too, but I know you… don't want me to meet them yet."

Katsuki's stomach constricted. More things he was unfairly keeping from Deku. He had his reasons for not wanting to introduce the boy to his family. It mainly was more of his paranoid thoughts, worming his way into his brain and planting seeds of doubt that made him believe Deku would see him differently. But he kept those buried deep in his mind. Katsuki would build up the strength to face his fears, just as Deku had.

 

"Well, I never turn down free food," answered Katsuki. "When do you want me to come over?"

Deku beamed. "You'll come? Oh, I'm so glad! And, um, I think tomorrow would be good! Unless that's too last minute?"

"Nope, that's fine." They walked out onto the parking lot, and Katsuki unlocked the car and put his hand on the roof, peering over at Deku. "You want me to drive you back?"

Shyly, Deku opened the passenger side and slid into the seat. "I was hoping you'd ask."

Katsuki smirked to himself and shook his head, shutting the door behind him. "You're getting a little comfortable in this car, Deku."

"I've grown attached after you made me commandeer it the other night," he grinned.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, reversing out of the lot and driving in the direction of Deku's house, which he knew off by heart now.

"So, um, what food do you like, Kacchan? Do you have any allergies?" Deku asked. "My mom is a really great cook, so she can accommodate for basically anything!"

"No allergies," answered Katsuki. "And I'm not picky."

"Ah, OK!" He pinched his bottom lip, a habit Katsuki had grown increasingly fond of. It gave him an endearing expression, looking like he was pouting but also deep in thought. "Oh! I remember you saying you like spicy food!"

"That's right." Katsuki was surprised he remembered. "Hey, you said your mom makes good katsudon?"

"Uh, yeah! But you don't have to choose that just because it's my fav—"

"I want to try it." He flashed Deku a grin. "You spoke so highly of it. Just tell her to add a shitload of spices to my bowl."

Deku blinked, but then nodded enthusiastically. "OK, OK! Katsudon it is! We'll have to come up with some answer to how we met, too, right?"

Katsuki felt the muscles in his neck tense. "I guess."

"I mean, we won't be able to avoid it, Kacchan. My mom's gonna ask what made us start talking."

"Yeah, I know. But you're not a very good liar."

"What?!" Deku mocked offence. "Yes I am!"

"Oh, please. You wear your heart on your sleeve so often it might as well be sewn onto your shoulder. I can tell straight away when you're lying."

In a whispered tone, Deku said, "You can?" and Katsuki scoffed.

"Yes. I'll go along with what you say, but you better not make up some embarrassing story about how we became friends."

Deku giggled. "What, like you were so drawn to my dorkiness you couldn't help but become my bestie?"

Katsuki reached over and ruffled Deku's messy, soft hair. "Fuck off, nerd. I'd rather die than agree to something like that."

Deku lightly bat Katsuki's hand away. "I'll think of something. You trust me, right?"

Sincerely, Katsuki nodded. "Yeah. If I didn't, I don't think we'd be here right now."

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

"Katsuki, what do you want for dinner tonight?" Mitsuki had made her small family bowls of udon for lunch, and the three Bakugous sat around the table, softly blowing on the boiling food. Well, except for Katsuki. He was slurping up the piping hot noodles without waiting for them to cool down at all. He swallowed his food and didn't wait for it to digest before picking up more with his chopsticks.

"Don't save me a plate."

Mitsuki frowned. "Why?"

"Going somewhere."

"Where are you going?" Masaru inquired. He put a clump of noodles on his utensils and tried to take a bite but jerked back at the sizzling heat.

“Dinner,” said Katsuki. He shovelled the udon into his mouth. "With someone."

"Who?" asked Mitsuki. "Eijirou? Mina? Hanta?"

Katsuki groaned. "God, what is this, twenty questions?"

"Well, most of the time, you just fuck off and don't tell us where you're going," shot Mitsuki. "Forgive me for wanting to know where my son is for once."

Masaru cleared his throat. "I think what she means, Katsuki, is that we're curious to know more about what's going on in your life. We're interested in you, son."

Katsuki swirled his noodles around in the broth and shrugged. "I guess." He sighed. "It's someone you haven't met yet."

Mitsuki cackled. "Oh, wow, that's a first. A new friend? I thought you only had your little gaggle of sycophants."

"Shut your mouth," snapped Katsuki. "I'm allowed to talk to people other than those idiots."

"I'm just a little shocked you got someone who hasn't known you since childhood to put up with your short temper." Mitsuki smugly took a sip from her water, and Katsuki growled.

"Yeah, and who'd I get the temper from, hag?"

 

Mitsuki slammed the glass down on the table and narrowed her eyes. They were blood red and thin, just like Katsuki's own.

Masaru put a hand on his wife's hand and turned to Katsuki sternly. "K-Katsuki, let's get back to the point. I'm frankly glad to hear you're going to a friend's house for dinner. You've never done that before."

"Not just friends," scoffed Mitsuki. "You won't even go to your uncle's dinners."

"Yeah, well, your brother can't cook to save his life," muttered Katsuki. That drew a hearty laugh from his mother, making his lips almost twitch up into a smile. Almost.

"We're obviously not stopping you from going, Katsuki," Masaru assured. "But we'd like to meet this person who's managed to crack you out of your shell."

Katsuki pushed out from his seat to wash out his empty bowl. The water was cold under his palm as he waited for it to warm up. "Like hell I'd bring him anywhere near you two nutjobs."

"Katsuki!"

"What? You'd pester the fuck out of him, and you'd probably show him some stupid shit, like my kid photos."

"Katsuki," his mother repeated, earnestly this time. "Have you told him about… your past?"

The water running over his fingertips turned boiling hot, but Katsuki didn't register it. He was frozen from his mother's words, only pulling his hand back when the heat became excruciating.

"I'll tell him about it when I want to," he replied.

Katsuki's parents looked at each other anxiously, and Katsuki grunted.

"What? Just spit it out. I can handle hearing whatever you two are thinking."

Masaru sighed and stood up from the table, walking over and grasping Katsuki's shoulder carefully. Normally, he would shrug it off, but the sincere look in his father's eyes was telling him otherwise.

"Katsuki, you've come a long way since… that incident," he started. "We're very proud that you've gotten the help you need. And I know you don't like to talk about it, but if this is a real friend you've made, he'll understand that you've grown since then."

Katsuki stiffened up under the touch. "Do you still… hate me for it?"

"We never hated you, honey." His mother joined the two and put a reassuring hand on the small of Katsuki's back. "We just wanted you to get better. And you have. You've grown into a very resilient and independent young man. I'm assuming this boy has helped a lot in his own way. You've been a lot happier these past few weeks."

“’M’not happy,” Katsuki murmured.

"Alright, tolerable," laughed Mitsuki. "That better?"

"Yeah."

Masaru rubbed his hand over Katsuki's arm. "It was a big part of your life, Katsuki. And even though you don't go to therapy anymore, telling the people closest to you that you might slip and struggle can prepare them. It's not because you're weak, son. The right people will always be there to lend you a hand."

"You're still our stubborn little brat." Mitsuki pinched Katsuki on the cheek. "But we love you, and we'll always be here for you, no matter what dumb things you do."

 

Katsuki felt like he was out of his body when his parents stepped in and hugged him. He wasn't in control of his mind and couldn't push away like he usually would. So he let himself be embraced, but he didn't feel anything. All he could think about was how much he had falsified his life to the people who were supposed to know him best.

Katsuki's parents thought he was cured. They thought their son had been fixed and he was out in the world as a good person. It had been four years, but he was still hiding the truth from them.

He was still living a lie.

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

Katsuki adjusted his mirror and looked at himself after he parked his car in the Midoriya's house's driveway. He hadn't gone all out, but he was dressed in a smart button-down shirt and his cleanest pair of jeans for this dinner. Deku had reassured him that the night was going to be casual and his mom wouldn't be a stickler for formality. Although, he did request that Katsuki try to keep his cursing to a minimum. Katsuki had admittedly been a little nervous about meeting the former wife of someone he had murdered. But Deku said he was sure the topic wouldn't come up.

The front door of Deku's house was foreign to Katsuki. All the times he had been over, he'd either only dropped Deku off at the driveway or entered his room through his window. He had never actually seen the house properly. And it was a nice, humble house. A lot smaller than the ones in Katsuki's neighbourhood, but it looked cozy. There was a warm glow coming from underneath the crack of the front door. Katsuki exhaled and reached up to ring the doorbell.

 

"I'll get it!" Katsuki recognised Deku's muffled voice from inside. He heard running footsteps and was met face to face with gleeful green eyes as the door opened.

"Hi, Kacchan! Thanks for coming!" Deku invited Katsuki in, and he shuffled inside to escape the cold. Several pairs of house slippers were sitting by the door, so Katsuki swapped out his sneakers for those.

"Oh, is he here?" A kind voice approached the two of them from the hallway, and when Katsuki stood up, he saw Deku's mother for the first time. She was a short, plump woman with a gentle smile and eyes as green and wide as her son's. She was wiping down her hands on a stained apron. "Katsuki, right? Welcome to our home. I’m Izuku’s mother, Inko.”

Katsuki bowed. "Thanks for having me, miss."

Inko laughed and tutted at his chivalry. "How sweet of you. But you don't need to make me feel so regal! Just call me Auntie."

Katsuki darted his eyes over to Deku, who just smiled and shrugged. Alright, I guess.

"OK."

"Izuku and I were just finishing up cooking. Dinner will be ready very shortly!" She put a kind hand on her son's shoulder. "I'm told you were informed about my katsudon. I had to make it every week for over a year because this one refused to eat anything else!"

Deku got embarrassed and covered his face. "Ah- Mom!! He doesn't need to know!"

Smirking, Katsuki peered over to the kitchen. "I always knew you were a picky eater, Deku."

Inko looked perplexed and turned to Deku. "Deku?"

"Ah- um, it's just a nickname he has for me," he explained. The nickname you gave yourself, Katsuki corrected him internally. "I call him Kacchan."

Inko looked between the two boys and smiled. "How lovely! I'm glad you two are so close. Katsuki, please take a seat at the table. It won't be too long!"

"Do you need help with anything?" he asked.

Inko waved dismissively. "No, no! You're our guest; go sit down." Katsuki did as he was told and sat down at the small wooden table. It only had room for four chairs, and there was a glass vase with some freshly picked flowers in the water. It was very quaint, just like the family itself.

 

While he waited for Deku and his mom to prepare the dishes, he looked around the living space. The walls were creamy white, with a little bit of paint flecking in the corners where he assumed the two of them couldn't reach. Photos of a baby, child, and teenage Deku covered all the walls, and the shelves, just like the ones in Deku's room, were filled to the brim with books.

The whole family is full of nerds.

 

Deku walked next to Katsuki and placed a water pitcher and three cups on the table. Apprehensive green eyes met Katsuki's red ones. Deku was probably worried about their upcoming conversation. But Katsuki had faith that they'd be able to avoid any incriminating topics. If he kept the focus on what he enjoyed about Deku's company rather than the actions that drew them together, then it would all be fine.

"I did get your request for spice, Katsuki," called Inko from the kitchen. "I'm glad— my boy hates anything hot, so I was happy to finally put those spices to good use!"

"Sounds like Deku," Katsuki responded. Inko chuckled, and Deku shot him a bashful look.

Soon after, Inko walked over and, with help from Deku, placed the dishes on the table. Katsuki got his, and Deku placed his plate next to Katsuki's. They'd be sitting together with his mother on the other side of the table. He joined them in thanking them for the food before digging in.

The homemade katsudon was miles better than the cheap takeout he and Deku had shared previously. It was rich in flavour and had all the hot spices that burned his mouth, but it also tasted delicious. The rice was warm and filling, and the little slices of shallots sprinkled over the meal were the perfect finishing touch.

"This is great," he said. Deku was beside him, eating a lot slower to enjoy the food. He looked up and grinned at Katsuki's approval. "I can't believe you thought that takeout katsu was good when you've been eating this your whole life."

"It was good!" Deku cried. "I mean, this is obviously better, but it was thoughtful of you to bring food for me!"

"Yeah, yeah." He went back to his food, and Inko took a sip from her glass contently.

"I'm glad you like it, Katsuki." She smiled. "I've heard a lot about you from Izuku. He said you're actually a year above him, is that right?"

Katsuki swallowed. "Yup."

"Ah, I see! So that means you'll be graduating in the spring, won't you?"

 

Katsuki hadn't even given it that much thought, but it was true. He'd be leaving the school environment he knew for so many years and finally be let out into the world. It was odd to think about. All the things that were big deals to him at school– reputation, friends, exams, they'd all be over soon. And Katsuki would have to go out and forge his own path.

"Yeah. I will."

"That's going to be exciting!" Inko took a bite of her own food before continuing. "It's interesting that you and Izuku are such good friends even though you're in different years. That was quite unusual when I was at school!"

"It hasn't changed much," sighed Deku. "Older years don't really talk to the younger students."

Katsuki felt two pairs of green eyes on him, and he fiddled with his chopsticks.

"Yeah, Deku's the only… classmate in the second year I talk to."

A slight hint of disappointment painted Deku's face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"What are your plans after school, Katsuki?" asked Inko. "Do you have any universities you'd like to go to?"

"Uh… haven't really thought about it," he mumbled. So much of Katsuki's life had been stolen by his dark impulses. For so many years, it had consumed his thoughts, leaving him unable to focus on more important things. He had only gotten it under control as he drew closer to adulthood. It made him feel like he had skipped a crucial part of his development, which he would never get back.

"Well, that's OK," Inko said. "I believe there should be an important focus on feeling ready for these things. No need to rush." She gestured at Deku. "Like Izuku, here. He's not sure what he wants to do either."

Katsuki turned to the boy beside him. He'd never asked about what he was interested in pursuing after school. It hadn't really come up in any conversations.

"But that's OK, you know?" she continued. "As long as my boy's happy and healthy, he can take his time. I don't want him to feel pressured to pick something and regret it later. And you should feel the same!"

 

Katsuki felt a warmth in his stomach, not just from the meal. It made him feel safe and supported, different from how his own parents supported him. He knew they loved him, but they were all bad at communicating about feelings that weren't explosively big or insignificantly small. Rarely could they have a real talk that led to any progress between them.

Was this why Deku was so good at reading Katsuki and deciphering his feelings? He nodded along with his mother's words and smiled supportively at Katsuki.

"I mean, I think I want to do something related to criminal activity," Deku piped up. "The investigating, the psychology, the–"

"Oh, Izuku, please, honey," Inko pleaded. "Don't talk about that while we're eating."

Deku frowned. "But– you wanted to know how Kacchan and I met! That's how it happened! We had the same interest in criminal analysis and–"

"You know my heart can't handle talking about something that graphic," she shuddered. "I'll always support your interests, Izuku, but you've got to be mindful of other people."

Deku looked down and poked at his food. "Sorry."

The tension had spiked a little, so Katsuki tried to alleviate it. "It's OK, Auntie. Sometimes, he gets a little too gruesome for me, too. Gotta remind him to reel it in a bit."

Deku shot him a grateful look, and Inko giggled. "Ah, yes, that's my boy. Passionate to the end and always talking." She put her utensils down and clasped her hands together. "Katsuki, has he told you about… Hisashi? His father?"

Katsuki swallowed hard and tried to keep his face neutral. "A little."

"It's just been over four years since he passed away," she said. "And normally, that would be a terrible blow to a family, especially a small one like ours. But the truth is, our life became a lot easier after he was gone."

Katsuki side-eyed Deku, who was starting to build up sweat on his forehead. He had assured him that the subject of his father wouldn't come up. It made Katsuki feel anxious and guilty beyond belief, even though both of them had expressed that they didn't miss him, Deku, in a much more resentful way.

"I don't know how much Izuku has said," Inko sighed. "But he really was… a terrible man. He wasn't always like that. I have fond memories of him when Izuku was young. But a few wrong decisions led him down a spiral that put him in desperate situations. And when he dealt with them poorly… the ones who were left to deal with it were me and my son."

The ticking of the clock boomed in Katsuki's ears with every agonising second. Inko's giant green eyes filled with tears.

"I'd never wish death upon anyone," she sniffed. "But I would do anything to protect my boy. And once his father was gone… things started looking bright again. Izuku began smiling, but it was tainted. It seemed less genuine than before."

Inko finally met Katsuki's gaze after staring at the table as she spoke.

"I'm sorry if I've soured dinner for you, Katsuki," said Inko shakily. "But I needed you to know that after Izuku met you… his real smile came back. So I wanted to tell you that I am… so grateful. You brought my son back to me. Thank you very much. From the bottom of my heart."

Deku was just as shocked by his mother's words as Katsuki. His eyes darted between the two, cheeks flushed red. Finally, he laughed out a broken sob.

"Mom… you could've given Kacchan some warning before you poured your heart out to him," he chuckled. 

 

Like a broken dam, the waterworks in Inko's eyes let loose, and she was sobbing into her hands. "I'm just… so, so happy to see you with a friend, Izuku! All I've ever wanted was for you to feel accepted and happy, baby." 

Deku pushed out of his seat and walked over to his mother's chair. She burst into tears and collapsed into her son's arms. Deku consoled her, squeezing her tightly into a hug.

"It's OK, Mom," he soothed. "I am happy. I'm happy to have Kacchan as my friend."

Inko lifted her head from Deku's arm and made eye contact with Katsuki. He squirmed, not used to people looking at him with such hopeful expressions. But he wasn't so cold-hearted that he couldn't reassure someone who needed comfort.

"I feel the same about Deku, too."

Katsuki took it upon himself to begin washing up the dishes. Deku was on the couch, cuddling with his mother while she calmed down. Inko had apologised to Katsuki for getting so emotional, and he responded with a simple shrug. He was terrible at putting people at ease, so he was thankful Deku could do most of it. As Katsuki finished up the last couple of dishes, he heard footsteps coming closer.

"Hey," said Deku. "Thanks for washing up."

A scoff escaped Katsuki's lips. "Is that not what guests are supposed to do? You don't have to fff– freaking thank me." He caught his curse word at the last second, and Deku laughed at his restraint.

"You can swear now, Kacchan," he teased. "My mom's just in the bathroom freshening up." Deku grabbed some of the clean but wet dishes and reached for a hand towel to dry them.

Katsuki flicked water off his fingers into the sink. "So, I'm a true crime nerd like you now?"

Deku smiled sheepishly. "Uh, yeah. I mean, it was the best thing I could come up with. I didn't want to say you were, I dunno, good at knitting or something, because she would have just quizzed you on your knitting knowledge."

"I don't think I look like the kind of guy who knits, Deku," chuckled Katsuki. "But I have to say, it was an easy way to avoid talking about how we met."

"Yeah, I– I know she doesn't like talking about… you know, like, violence and stuff, so I figured she wouldn't push it if I said that's how we started hanging out."

Katsuki wiped his hands dry on a cloth. "Well, it wasn't really a lie, was it?"

Deku beamed, but his face quickly fell into a sorrowful frown. "Oh, also, I'm sorry we had to discuss my dad. I really didn't know she was gonna bring him up. I mean, we hardly ever talk about him, so I thought–"

"Deku, it's fine." Katsuki wiped the wet counter down. "It wasn't your fault."

"I-I know," he sighed. "And I should have warned you my mom can get sappy easily. She's… very emotional."

Katsuki leaned against the clean countertop. "I'm used to emotional mothers. Except the emotion I have to deal with is anger."

Deku bent down to put the clean plates away. "Is that where you got your temper from?"

"What'd you say, you bast–"

"Hey, mom!"

 

Katsuki zipped his lips when Inko returned to the kitchen, looking much calmer. Her eyes were still a little red and her face blotchy, but she had a warm smile on her face at the sight of the two boys getting along.

"Katsuki, would you like to stay a little longer?" she asked. "The two of you should get to hang out without Izuku's lame old mom hanging around."

"Mom!" Deku exclaimed. "You're not lame! Or old! You look lovely!"

Inko winked and turned to Katsuki. "Well? I can stay in my room and not disturb you."

Katsuki checked his watch. It was still pretty early into the night, well, for his standards anyway. And it had been a long time since he and Deku had a chance to hang out on their own, doing normal things. They had gone out on that drive to the football field, but what preceded it wasn't what most people thought of when they pictured 'hanging out'.

"Sure," shrugged Katsuki. "I'll stay a bit."

Inko beamed and opened her arms. "I'll be in my bed working on your new cardigan, Izuku."

Deku stepped forward and embraced her. "Mom, you don't need to knit me any more. I've already got, like, five. Make one for yourself!"

She squeezed him before pulling back and putting her hands on Deku's freckled face. "I can't help it, sweetie. You look so much better in them." Inko peered over at Katsuki, still leaning against the counter. "Maybe I could make one for Katsuki too!"

"Uh–"

"Finish the one you're working on first, Mom." Deku kissed her on the cheek. "Goodnight. I love you!"

Inko walked down the hallway to her room. "I love you, too, honey." The sound of her door shutting echoed through the silent kitchen.

 

Deku beckoned Katsuki to follow him the opposite way to his room. He followed behind him a few steps, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"You still say I love you to your mom?" murmured Katsuki.

Deku opened his door, letting Katsuki into his room. When he got a look at his face, he looked perplexed. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno. I never say that to my parents."

While shutting the door, Katsuki got a glimpse of his eyes rolling upward. "I'm shocked."

"Hey!"

"What?" he grinned. "You jealous? Want me to call her in so you can say I love you to her as well?"

Katsuki felt the tips of his ears heat up. "Shut the hell up."

Smirking, Deku crossed his arms across his chest and sat down on his bed. "Wooww, you're still not gonna swear? My mom's not even here; what a gentleman you are, Kacchan."

"Fuck you," he retorted. "I'm not an asshole. I can be polite around my friend's mom."

"But not me?" Deku asked, cocking his head to the side.

"No. You can go to hell and die."

He giggled. "That's funny. I prefer the real you, anyway. Seeing you be so civil is a little uncanny."

"Would you rather me just curse out your mom, then?" Katsuki snapped.

"No, no," said Deku. "I didn't say it was bad. I like it when you're polite. But I just prefer being around you when you're authentic."

Katsuki huffed. "Whatever." He leaned against the shelf but accidentally knocked something off. A loud thud came from the floor, and Katsuki looked down. It was a box, and its contents spewed on the floor.

"Oh, dangit," sighed Deku. "I knew it wouldn't balance." He got up from the bed and started picking up what had fallen. Katsuki knelt down too.

"Bandages?" he said. "What's that for?"

Deku took the bandages along with rolls of gauze and tubes of antiseptic cream. The box had been filled with first aid supplies.

"I was cleaning out my room the other day, and I had a bunch of first aid stuff in my drawers," explained Deku. "It's all leftovers from when I did parkour and kept hurting myself. I put it all in that box and tried to fit it on the shelf, but it doesn't sit right. It keeps falling off in the middle of the night."

Katsuki picked up the box and placed it on the very top of the bookshelf, which Deku couldn't reach. There was more room for it. "There."

 

Deku smiled. "Thanks. Now, where'd I put that- Aha!" He picked up a shopping bag from his desk chair and handed it to Katsuki, who raised an eyebrow.

"What is this."

"Just open it, Kacchan!" urged Deku. Katsuki opened the plastic bag and reached in. There was a long, rectangular box inside. He pulled it out and read the print.

"'Scrabble'?" he said, confused. "Why'd you go and buy a whole other board, you moron?"

Deku scoffed. "Because your board is ancient, Kacchan!"

"Huh?!"

"I can barely read some of the tiles in your set because they're so faded!" Deku snatched the board game from Katsuki's outstretched hand and started setting it up on his bed. "I think you've been using that to your advantage, and that's how you managed to win last time."

That competitive match was struck inside Katsuki. "Oh, yeah? Sounds like you're grasping at straws to explain why you lost."

Deku patted the bed, inviting him over with a mischievous smirk. "Wanna prove me wrong?"

Everything between Katsuki and Deku was intense, even their board games. Both boys were merciless, determined to win and break the tie that evened their scores. It had started to get physical; first, Katsuki threatened to shove Deku off the bed if he took the double letter tile he had been eying. Determined to stay true to his word, Deku's back met the carpet after he put down the word 'cephalic'. It didn't dent his triumphant face as he crawled back onto the bed and wrote down that he had earned 67 points.

By the end of the game, it wasn't looking good for Katsuki. Deku had managed to create the longest word that either of them had made in the game: daguerreotypes. Katsuki triple-checked that Deku had spelled it correctly before giving in and adding the points to his opponent's score. At that point, Katsuki had to recognise defeat. The victory went to Deku, who graciously accepted his win and thanked him for giving him a good match. Ever the sore loser, Katsuki pushed him onto the floor again, but Deku only laughed, filling the room with a joyful sound.

 

Deku asked if Katsuki would watch a movie with him, not a horror one, he promised. The blond boy wasn't socially drained yet, so he agreed. What he didn't expect was to be snuggled closely with Deku, under the covers, shoulder to shoulder, with his laptop balancing on both of their thighs.

Katsuki was painstakingly aware of how close he was to Deku, and it made it hard to focus on the film. Not only were their shoulders touching, but so were their legs and hands. Deku had placed his palm over Katsuki's right as the movie began, and Katsuki hadn't objected to it. Despite being so hyperaware, he didn't feel uncomfortable with the proximity. He felt relaxed but also… nervous. Was Deku's heart also beating a million times a minute at the thought that their fingers could easily interlock in this position? Was he wondering about how every instinct in Katsuki's body told him that he should throw his arm around Deku's shoulder and pull him in closer, using the logical explanation that it would be more comfortable for the both of them? Did Deku also have a strange fascination with listening to Katsuki breathe, counting the intervals between each inhale and unconsciously trying to match it? Had the thought entered his mind that with just a tilt of both their heads, Katsuki and Deku's lips would be millimetres apart?

 

That last thought was enough for Katsuki to look inside himself and unravel why he was thinking of Deku that way. In a way that he had never thought about anyone before. He had watched movies, read books, and even seen romantic affections in real life. But none of that ever resonated with him, and a deep part of him felt broken as a result. So then… why? Why Deku? Did it have something to do with the theory that the boy could subdue Katsuki's compulsions with just his presence? But Katsuki had felt nothing even close to that violent urge since that day. He wanted to be around Deku for no complicated reason other than that he enjoyed his company. And as for the other thoughts… Was it possible that Katsuki could feel that sort of attraction to someone after all?

Katsuki could tell when Deku's light breathing changed that he had fallen asleep. His head drooped against Katsuki's broad shoulder, and he felt the arm that was leaning against his own go limp. The movie was still playing, but Katsuki had no interest in it. He was as still as stone, not daring to move in case he woke Deku, and the boy tried to move away from where he was resting. Katsuki liked the sensation of Deku peacefully sleeping on his body. He felt serene. He was on the brink of falling asleep himself when he heard a soft knock at the door.

 

Katsuki straightened up as best he could, still not answering in case his rough voice awoke the boy beside him. The door opened up a crack, and Inko peeked in, giving Katsuki a friendly wave.

"Hey, Katsuki," she whispered. "I hate to do this to you since you look so cozy, but it's past midnight. Your parents are going to think I kidnapped you if you don't get back! And you must be as tired as Izuku, too."

A distant rage pooled in his gut. Katsuki wanted to yell back at her to get out and leave the two of them alone with each other. But he stopped himself, shocked that he even considered it. That intrusive thought wasn't just his quick-tempered rudeness. It was more possessive, like he wanted to keep Deku all to himself. Katsuki quickly shook it away.

Being mindful not to wake Deku, Katsuki peeled the blankets off him and shuffled out of where he had been sitting against the headboard. Deku's head started to drop without the support of Katsuki's shoulder, so he grabbed both sides of his freckled face and carefully guided him down to lie flat and not sleep sitting up. Katsuki pulled the blanket up to Deku's chin and picked up his laptop, pausing the movie and shutting the lid. The younger boy didn't stir once. After Katsuki plugged in Deku's computer and turned around, he saw that Inko had watched the whole thing with an approving smile.

 

Katsuki slowly shut the door behind him, leaving Deku to sleep as he joined Inko in the hallway. She then walked him to the door.

"What were you two doing?" she asked curiously. Katsuki felt the blood rush to his cheeks, which was stupid because it was an innocent question, and nothing had even happened. It was just the thought that she might have the image of Katsuki and Deku doing something other than watching a movie that made him blush.

"Watching something," Katsuki replied, leaning down to pull off his slippers. "He promised not to put on anything horror, the only thing he likes watching, so I guess he got too bored and fell asleep."

Inko quietly laughed. "Oh, you're such a thoughtful boy, Katsuki. I can never watch anything with that one. It's all murderers and gore and blood when he's in charge of movie night!"

A sharp stab of guilt pierced Katsuki's heart. He tried to keep his face out of view as he nodded.

Inko opened the front door and walked with Katsuki into the chill of the night. "I'm regretful that I didn't invite you over sooner, Katsuki. I wish I had known what a good person my son had met."

Katsuki didn't know how to respond, so he just ran his hand through his hair and shrugged. "Thanks, Auntie."

She grinned. "I think I'll have to make you a Christmas present. It might be a little down to the wire, but I'll get it done!"

Katsuki looked at her pleadingly. "Um, by chance… if it's a cardigan, can I at least pick the colour?"

Inko's green eyes widened. "Ah! Am I too obvious? Don't worry, I won't force you to wear one of my knitted works, Katsuki."

"I appreciate the effort," he said. "But I'm just not a fan of the… texture."

She nodded. "I see, I see! Not a problem! I'm always willing to improvise!"

Katsuki unlocked his car with a beep and wiped some of the snow clumps off his windshield. Inko stood on the porch, barely illuminated by the weak lightbulb.

"Please come over any time, sweetheart," she called out. "And I'd love to meet your parents soon, too. I can bring over something if you'd like?"

All Katsuki could do was nod. "I'll ask."

That familiar smile, which Katsuki had seen so many times on her son, spread across Inko's face from ear to ear. "I'm sure I sound like a broken record at this point, but... I am so happy my boy has a friend like you, Katsuki. Thank you for taking such good care of Izuku."

No words found their way out of Katsuki's sealed lips. He just forced himself to nod again and climbed into his car, watching Inko retreat into the house and turn off the lights. There, under the darkness of the night sky, did Katsuki finally feel all the repressed emotions crash into him.

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

When Katsuki entered his house, it was dead silent. As he tiptoed up to his room, the only sound he caught was the snoring of his parents coming from their room. Being careful not to wake them, he opened his door and threw himself on his bed, not even bothering to turn off the lights or change out of his clothes. 

It had been three days since Katsuki had felt his violent urge and somehow managed to stifle it. Typically, if he held out on acting on the compulsions for this long, he'd be losing his mind. He would be surly, irascible and probably would have impulsively hurt someone by now. But ever since the aborted murder, Katsuki felt fine. Well, as fine as he could be. He didn't have the urge to kill anyone anymore.

Katsuki still hadn't told Deku that he didn't go through with the attack. He was still trying to get to the bottom of the reason it had happened. Some theories were more substantial than others.

 

Deep down, Katsuki knew that he desperately wanted to stop. He would do anything to just ensure that his compulsions would vanish and never bother him again. Despite how much he needed to do it, the intense disgust he felt while having Deku as a witness was proof he didn't take any pride in it. It opened his eyes in a way he wouldn't have realised without the younger boy. Katsuki didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. But he knew he was in too deep. No one but Katsuki could solve this problem.

His parents, who, from their perspective, thought Katsuki was better, weren't an option. They would be terrified to learn what their son had done, and he wouldn't blame them. A therapist wouldn't want to touch him with a ten-foot pole. Respectable members of society wouldn't try to take Katsuki on as a patient and attempt to reform him; he'd only end up in a jail cell. 

Katsuki was well aware of these facts ever since he started this dark journey. He had kept his macabre hobbies to himself. That was until Deku came into his life. At first Katsuki found him annoying and a threat to his cover. He grimaced when he recalled the initial consideration of killing him. But eventually, it became a secret the two of them shared. His urges continued even after he confided in Deku, so simply telling him was not the reason they stopped.

 

Slowly, they started to warm up to each other, something Katsuki could not have predicted. He never thought Deku would be someone he could drop his guard around and not have to wear the veil of normality he did with everyone else.

In his childhood, Katsuki was brushed off as a brash person, a child that no one ever tried to stop being so abrasive because of the age-old mantra that 'kids will be kids'. Because of this, his emotional needs were neglected because so many people didn't even consider that he might have some insecure feelings, too. Katsuki knew he only had his tightly-knit group of friends because they had known each other for so long. If he had to try to make friends with someone new, he doubted anyone would actually want to form a relationship with him because of his reputation. People avoided him out of fear even after he stopped being such a petulant child.

And then, when Katsuki began suffering from his cursed impulsions, he was under so much mental stress that no one, not even his closest friends or family, could connect with him. There were obvious reasons that he had to keep it hidden, but since he had built up this image of never feeling any emotion other than anger, attempts at conversing with him fizzled out. There was no one in his life that had the full picture of Katsuki. They only had little pieces, an incomplete puzzle that would always have something missing.

 

But then Katsuki met Deku, who accepted everything about him wholeheartedly. He accepted his hobbies, his personality, his flaws and his talents. Deku admired him, but it wasn't completely blind worship. He could stand up for himself and had his own strengths, which Katsuki longed for. Deku admitted that he could be genuine around Katsuki, and the feeling was mutual. Even when they weren't committing crimes, Katsuki and Deku thoroughly enjoyed each other's company. He enjoyed hanging out with him as a friend. They both had their own masks, but neither of them wore it around the other.

Katsuki looked up at the ceiling. The room was still pitch black, but his eyes were adjusting to the darkness now. His vision began to blur as regretful tears leaked from his ducts. They streaked down his cheeks into his ears.

 

Wistfully, Katsuki began thinking about his life if he hadn't been forced to waste his youth away on his murderous urges. Would he be extroverted like his childhood friends and enjoy going to parties with them? Would he have branched outside those who knew him since he was a kid? Would the carefree way he acted with Deku be his real personality? Would he have a different personality altogether?

Would life have been better if Katsuki had met Deku earlier? Would his struggles be easier if the boy was one of his childhood friends, too? Katsuki's mind was spiralling. But through the clouded thoughts, he realised a crucial fact. The short period in his life with Deku in it had been infinitely better than the years he spent without him. As they built a genuine connection, Katsuki's impulses began to disappear. And he wanted nothing more than to keep it that way, so he was hellbent on never losing Deku.

 

Katsuki had always been selfish. He wanted Deku in his life for his own reasons. Whether it was because he revered him as a friend, or needed him to keep his compulsions at bay, or a mixture of the two. He would do whatever it took to keep him. But Katsuki had a caring side to him that was hard to break out. Deku was an expert at luring it into the open. Katsuki decided that night that, for Deku's sake, he was going to fight his inner battles. He wasn't going to hurt anyone ever again, no matter how bad his urges got. Even if that meant going through all that therapy and psychiatry again, Katsuki would do it for Deku. However, a part of him longed to get better for his own sake, too. He was turning over a new leaf. Katsuki didn't want anyone else to die because of his actions ever again.

 

Notes:

my favourite thing about including scrabble scenes is finding fun words to make kacchan and deku play against each other. sometimes theyre important, sometimes not
make sure not to do what inko does in this part. in canon katsuki’s words: if youre gonna have guests over, dont spoil good food with your family drama!!!!!

Chapter 11: An Explaination

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=nV1r4PWrR5uqwNfKPm9KdQ

11.2k words

since deku is a parkour artist, do you think he would do the one-block jump for the chicken or the vertical two-block jump for the beef?

"Fuck!"

Katsuki jerked his hand back from the sink. The water was still freezing cold from whoever used it last. He was hoping to have a nice, quiet morning with his parents out of the house for the day, but he had just been fully woken up from the sudden temperature.

"Goddamn it, woman," Katsuki cursed his mother. "Why are you using cold water in the middle of winter?!" He turned the valve to be at the highest peak and waited for it to warm up before splashing the boiling hot water in his face.

 

It was Saturday, so Katsuki had gotten up at noon. The house was quiet when he woke up, unusual for this time of the week. Normally, he'd hear his parents downstairs, his mother especially, but they had gone away for the weekend, so Katsuki was alone. Good. That was how he liked it.

He'd been needing some alone time to try and gather his thoughts. They were all about Deku, unsurprisingly, and he didn't have anyone he could trust to talk about it. Katsuki needed to tell him the last things about his life that he'd kept a secret from him. How he had acted at the beginning of his dark journey, why he had never opened up to anyone before Deku and how was almost certain now that the boy was the key to keeping his violent impulses buried.

 

There wouldn't be a perfect time or a perfect scenario for Katsuki to have that conversation with Deku, so he'd just have to shoot for second best. He wasn't sure how he should go about bringing it up. It'd have to be in a safe place where they wouldn't be interrupted, and he'd have to prepare himself beforehand so he would be able to put his confusing thoughts into words.

The winter snow that cloaked the city of Hase had begun to fall heavily, spreading white as far as the eye could see. Katsuki knew he'd have to suck it up and shovel some of the snow out of his front yard at some point, and better to get it done sooner than later. After a quick shower, Katsuki changed into his thickest and woolliest jacket and pants, headed into the garage and grabbed the snow shovel.

 

God, I fucking hate shovelling snow.

 

Katsuki began his treacherous chore, thinking about how he would go about talking to Deku. Where would they talk? A public place was out of the question. Should he invite him over? Should he go over? He went back and forth with himself, creating a pile of snow beside him that had started to grow in size. Occasionally, some of the snow at the peak would fall down the side and collect at the base, forcing Katsuki to make a new pile.

 

A visual representation of his journey with Deku appeared in Katsuki's mind in the form of a mountain. The trek to the top, which involved opening up to Deku, was arduous and gruelling. He hated discussing his feelings. It made him consider himself weak and vulnerable, which was the opposite of how he wanted people to see him. After meeting Deku, however, Katsuki felt a lot of those fears melt away. He started to admire how the younger boy carried himself, living his life as he wanted and not worrying about anyone else's judgement. And now Katsuki wanted to be like that, too.

The summit of the mountain was Katsuki not going through with a kill for the first time. It led to him toppling over the side, rolling down the mountain like an avalanche. When Katsuki realised that Deku was the reason he'd stopped feeling the murderous urges, the attachment towards him began to snowball, becoming more and more intense every time they shared each other's company. It wouldn't be too long until Katsuki's feelings got too big and began to smother him. He needed to get them under control while he could.

"Kacchan!"

Katsuki looked up from his vision of pure white and blinked. Across the street was Deku, dressed in a large winter coat and wrapped up in a multicoloured scarf. He waved when Katsuki looked up and crossed the road to his front yard.

"Hey," said Katsuki. "What are you doing here?"

"I sent you a message!" smiled Deku. "You, uh, you didn't respond, but I– I wanted to see you! I hope that's OK!"

Looking the boy up and down, Katsuki felt his body heat up at the sight of him, so endearing and comfortable in the oversized clothes, nose and cheeks flushed bright pink from the cold. He wanted to wrap him up in his arms and warm him up, hold him close and embrace him. Katsuki had never felt so obsessive over someone before.

Deku peered behind Katsuki. "Um, are your parents home?"

Katsuki shook his head and realised he hadn't even answered Deku's first question while he was preoccupied with staring at him. "Uh– yeah, I mean, no, they're not home, but yeah, it's OK that you… that you came over." He stammered over his words, releasing clouds of hot breath around his face.

Deku looked a little dissatisfied. "Oh. I was really hoping I could meet them soon."

A shiver ran up Katsuki's spine. "Yeah, I know. One day." The guilt at what he had done to his parents in the past was eating away at him. He knew that Deku wasn't going to hold it against him; it was all his own mind that hammered in the feelings of shame.

 

"What'd you even want to do?" asked Katsuki. "It's freezing." Deku rolled his eyes.

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Kacchan," he giggled. "But it's still a nice day!"

"I don't really like the cold." Katsuki leant his chin on the handle of the shovel.

Deku bent over and scooped up a pile of snow, moulding it in his gloved palms into a sphere. He threw it up in the air and caught it, small chunks flying off as it fell.

"I think it's perfect for snowball fights." 

Typically, Katsuki would have brushed off the idea of playing in the snow on a bitterly cold day and refused to leave the comfort of his house. But as he was coming to realise, it was getting increasingly hard to deny any of Deku's requests. His encouraging voice resonated within Katsuki, and he sighed, dropping the shovel and stepping closer to the boy.

"I am going to crush you so bad, Deku," warned Katsuki. That only seemed to elicit a more excited reaction from Deku, who grinned back mischievously.

"Bring it on, then," he challenged. Katsuki turned around into his house to grab his keys and lock the front door. Deku was waiting by the end of the driveway.

"Let's go somewhere nearby," Katsuki suggested. "So when I destroy you, the carnage isn't in my front yard."

Deku skipped behind him as they walked down the street. "You shouldn't be so confident, Kacchan. I think I'm definitely faster than you. You'll never be able to catch up to me."

Katsuki stopped and waited for Deku to pass him on the footpath. After walking in front of him, the younger boy turned around and cocked his head to the side.

"What's up?"

Katsuki pointed down the street. "Remember the park we went to after the arcade?" Deku nodded. "Go all the way to the end of the road, take a left, then two rights. That's where it is."

Deku brightened. "Is that where we're going?"

Tilting his head down, Katsuki walked in front of Deku, who was standing still. Then, he burst into a sprint, leaving the boy behind him. Deku called out something intelligible. Katsuki turned around to see Deku chasing after him.

"Last one there's the loser, Deku!"

Katsuki leapt over the cold gate, and his feet hit the ground. Moments later, Deku also jumped over, much more gracefully than Katsuki had. Both boys were panting heavily, their lungs scorching from all the frigid air they'd been breathing in. Pushing the hair from his face, Katsuki turned victoriously to Deku, who was doubled over and catching his breath.

"Looks like I win, Deku," he announced, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. "Who's the fast one now?"

Deku's back was horizontal with the ground. His inhales were strained and quick, and it looked like his arms were trembling. Katsuki frowned and leaned down to meet his eyes.

"Hey, nerd, y'alr–"

He saw it at the last minute. What Katsuki thought were Deku's arms shaking from the run was actually him creating a ball of snow in his hands while he was bent over. As Katsuki tried to make eye contact, Deku chucked the ball into his face, splattering it with white. He yelped and stumbled backwards, teeth clacking together at the cold sensation.

Deku stood up straight and laughed. He had another snowball ready in his hands. Katsuki wiped off his face and took a few steps back.

 

"I'll give you a three-second headstart," Deku gloated, raising his arm. "Seems fair, right?"

Katsuki ran off to the far end of the park, scooping snow with his hands. He had a disadvantage; Deku was wearing gloves so the cold wasn't going to bother him as much as it did Katsuki. But the urge to win overrode the chill against his palms as Katsuki created a pile of snowballs behind a bench. 

Deku was hiding next to the slide, poking his head out every few seconds. Katsuki had thrown some of the snowballs in his direction, but they all hit the plastic surface. Deku had a mischievous glint in his eye every time he caught Katsuki's gaze.

"Why don't you come out and face me, Kacchan?" he taunted. Katsuki chuckled. So that's how they were going to play it?

"You're one to talk!" he shouted back. "Getting a cheap shot like that!"

"It's called strategy!" Deku tossed a snowball at Katsuki, who closed his eyes and ducked. When he saw where the snow had landed, he scoffed and peered over the bench again.

"You've gotta work on your aim more, De–"

 

Katsuki shrieked as a freezing sensation hit the back of his head, and snow trailed down his neck and back. He whipped around and saw Deku running away, laughing. He had diverted Katsuki's attention with the first throw and then flung one at him from behind. Katsuki desperately reached around to wipe the snow from his nape.

"You sneaky motherfucker!" Katsuki hurled one of his snowballs at Deku, but missed. He was too fast and had reflexes that were inhumanly quick. What's more, he was keeping low to the ground and collecting snow in his hands as he ran and chucked those at Katsuki too.

"What'd you say, Kacchan?" he called out. "That you were going to crush me?"

"Stop running, and I will!!" Katsuki made sure to time his next throw properly, predicting where Deku would dart to next. He got lucky, and his snowball hit Deku square in the face. The boy squawked at the cold feeling on his face and stumbled backwards into the snow. Katsuki ran over with another snowball in hand, jumping on top of Deku and keeping him down by hovering over his chest.

 

"Ah-! Kacchan!" Deku put his hands in front of his face to protect it, but Katsuki grinned evilly and, taking a page out of Deku's book, grabbed his scarf out of the way and shoved the snow down the front of his jacket. Deku screeched and squirmed, trying to wriggle away from the bitingly cold snow. Katsuki cackled and grabbed his wrists, pinning him down. His hair fell into his face as he loomed above Deku, who started to stop writhing. His squeals were melding with soft giggles as his eyes slowly fluttered open, tanned cheeks bright red and parted lips tinged light blue. Green met red as the two boys gazed into each other's eyes for a few seconds, their breaths of warm air melding in the middle. Katsuki realised the compromising position he was in and sat up, embarrassed. The snow made for a nice cushion on the ground, covering the thick layer of green grass that usually decorated the park.

Deku unbuttoned his jacket, brushing off the last clumps of snow. Underneath, he was wearing the paint-stained shirt he had created when he and Katsuki went out to paint. His stomach churned at the sight. Katsuki never expected the mere image of Deku wearing clothes to cause such an intrinsic reaction, but they weren't just any clothes. They were connected to Katsuki.

 

Deku smeared the lingering snow droplets off his face and rebuttoned his coat. "Alright, I'll accept defeat." He turned to Katsuki and smiled. "Thanks for not killing me."

In his head, Katsuki recalled the night he had found Deku in the dark and held his life in his hands. For at least a few moments, the idea of murdering him did cross his mind. Now, Katsuki would let himself be killed before he allowed any harm to come to Deku. The boy was important to him now, more than anyone else. Because he understood who he was. He was showing Katsuki how freeing it was to be himself. Maybe, someday soon, he could join Deku in the sky, soaring above everyone else.

He wanted to say something like, "Thank you for seeing who I truly am," but he was still apprehensive, so Katsuki just nodded and rose to his feet.

 

"Don't mention it."

 

Deku got up as well, brushing the snow from his arms. "Let's go sit down on that bench. I– I have something I wanted to give you."

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Deku grabbed his wrist. "Sit first!" Katsuki complied and followed him to the bench, sitting on the right side. Deku, who sat in the middle, gave him a perplexed look.

"You'll fall off the edge if you sit that far away," he smirked. He gestured for Katsuki to move closer. "Come on. It'll keep you warm to stay near me anyway."

Katsuki gingerly shuffled over. Deku had his hand in his pocket, digging for something that he must've shoved deep down. His face lit up when he felt it, and he pulled out a small brown box. He turned to Katsuki shyly.

"I know I kind of invited you out without warning," said Deku. "I'm sorry. But… thanks for coming with me."

Katsuki shrugged. "It's OK. If I'd seen your messages, I would have said yes anyway."

Deku fidgeted with the box in his hands. "To be honest, I was scared you might say no and that snowball fights are lame or something…"

"They are pretty lame," he snickered. "But I don't mind being lame with you. Now tell me what's in that box."

Deku silently dropped the box into Katsuki's lap, covering his face with his hands. Katsuki was even more unsure of what he could possibly be giving him. He untied the poorly done bow that was wrapped around it and opened the lid.

 

Inside was a small bracelet, almost the same shade of brown as the box. Katsuki picked it up and lay it in his palm. It had circular, mahogany beads threaded through thick black string, connecting to a chain that would clip perfectly around his wrist. And on the chain was a tiny caramel-coloured square that, when flipped around, had the letter K inscribed on it. A miniature 5 was etched just underneath, and Katsuki knew what it was. A Scrabble tile.

He looked at Deku, who was peeking through his fingers while waiting for Katsuki's reaction. "I-I know it's not very cool at all," he stammered. "And you don't have to wear it if you don't like jewellery. But… I– I made it myself, so I thought… you know."

Katsuki's eyes widened. "You… made it?"

Deku took his hands off his face and removed one of his gloves. "I- yeah. I mean, I didn't make everything. I didn't make the beads or anything; I just wove it together and made the K tile. Uh, as you can see, it took a little trial and error." He held up his hand to show numerous plasters wrapped around his fingers. "B-Because it's real wood, and I burned the letter into it, it took a few tries. But the one you have was the best one I did!"

Katsuki glanced down at his palm, staring at the bracelet again. No one had ever gifted him something that had this level of affection around it. It was so perfectly Deku. Everything that had been poured into it was pure. It was a gift made out of adoration.

"Um, like I said–" Deku covered his face again. "You don't have to wear it. You don't even have to take it! I-If you want, you can give it back, and I'll-"

"No," Katsuki finally said. He could feel salty tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "I… I wanna keep it. It's the best gift… I think I've ever been given."

Tears began forming in Deku's wide eyes as well, but they were happy. "R-Really? I- Wow. I'm so happy, Kacchan…"

Katsuki handed him the bracelet. "Here. Clip it." He rolled up his sleeve and held out his right arm.

Deku beamed and grabbed the bracelet, looping it around Katsuki's wrist. Katsuki analysed his focused face as he untwisted the metal part. His bottom lip pouted out in concentration like it did when he pinched it between his fingers. His eyebrows were furrowed as he attentively clipped the chain, fastening the bracelet to Katsuki's wrist. Deku held Katsuki's firm hand in his own and his thumb ghosted over the thin scar on Katsuki's palm. He wished the boy would run his tender fingers over it. Their eyes met, and Deku slowly let go, placing Katsukis arm in his lap and pulling his hands back to himself. The loss of contact pained Katsuki immediately.

 

This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. The two of them were alone, and Katsuki felt comfortable enough to start talking. He had been working himself up to telling Deku the truth for the last few days. What Katsuki had done in the past. How Deku was the key to quelling his violence. Who Deku was to him now.

"Deku," he breathed. "I've been wanting to talk to you about something for a while now. There are things about me you still don't know about. Things I still haven't told you."

Sympathetic eyes squinted as Deku smiled. "You don't have to worry. You've already shared plenty with me. I don't need to be told everything."

"But you deserve to know everything," Katsuki urged. "A-And I'm gonna tell you. It's just… It's not easy to explain."

"I'll be here," assured Deku. "I'm not leaving your side."

Katsuki pivoted his body so he could lean into Deku. "I just- I don't know how to describe it."

"I'll listen to whatever you say, even if it doesn't make any sense." 

 

Katsuki spoke in a hushed tone, so Deku leaned in a little to hear him better. There was still an acceptable amount of distance between them, but Deku was close enough that Katsuki could listen to his soft breathing. And when he inhaled, he could smell him as well.

Deku smelled like something…nostalgic. Like a far-off memory Katsuki would never be able to properly place. He smelled of pine trees from a forest that were as green as his eyes. There was a slight artificial scent to it, maybe a cologne he'd sprayed on. It made Katsuki feel dizzy in a good way, knowing the boy must've put it on specifically for him. He wanted to drink in that smell for a while, let it linger on his nose and memorise the chemical formula of Deku's scent.

Deku was waiting patiently for Katsuki to begin. It was hard for him to even start. Should he tell him everything from the beginning? There were pieces of his past that Deku already knew, but he couldn't remember every detail he'd told him. Katsuki knew Deku wouldn't get mad if he repeated some information, so he decided to just recap the basic fundamentals of what formed Katsuki's condition.

 

"When I first killed someone–" he began. "–it was like a drug that got injected directly into my veins. I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did. And now I have to deal with it. It's an itch that can't be scratched without bloodshed."

Katsuki expected Deku to interject with something. But for once, the boy was silent. Katsuki continued.

"I have no way to describe what it is other than an impulse that won't go away until it's quelled. When it arises, it's as necessary as breathing. I have no concrete name for it. It doesn't make logical sense and never will."

"The urges don't have a set timeframe. Usually it's once every two months, which I've managed to tame to a consistent pattern. But if I ignore it, I only have about a week, tops, before I start to lose it." 

 

The neighbourhood was empty. Katsuki knew no one would overhear him talking, especially as he kept his voice down. But the lower he got, the harder it was for Deku to hear. So he intentionally started speaking softer so that Deku would move in closer to listen.

"I know… someone who doesn't know me might assume that the killings have something to do with my shitty attitude or my temper," Katsuki said quietly. "But it's not. It's like… a separate entity. It doesn't have anything to do with a grudge against people who have done terrible things. I'm not a vigilante. I'm not trying to change the world or make it a better place or anything like that. But even though the compulsions make me feel like I'm losing my mind… I don't want to hurt innocent people. That's why I target those who I feel deserve it."

The tears that had been previously blinked away threatened to reappear. But Katsuki would not let himself cry. Not yet.

"It's still not fair of me. It's selfish. I can't pretend I have some moral high ground. I'm not pursuing justice. I'm only doing what I have to so I can attempt to live some sort of normal life."

 

Katsuki took a deep breath. His mouth was starting to run dry. He was not used to talking this much and for this long. Deku had still not said a word, but he was obviously paying close attention and hanging on to every syllable. He knew all the information Katsuki had just told him. Now, he would hear everything Katsuki had been keeping a secret.

"When I don't act on the impulse right away, I start getting irrational. Migraines are usually the first things that set me off. Then I become really irritable and snappy." He lightly exhaled through his nose. "Well, more than usual."

Even after trying to lighten the mood with a joke, Deku was still listening intently, staring at Katsuki with a neutral face.

"If I wait too long, I… the impulses come out involuntarily. I end up… hurting people that I don't want to. So I make sure to deal with it right away."

Painful memories from his past stung when Katsuki thought about them too much. But he had to keep talking. He wasn't going to stop now.

"When I tried to control it initially, I had no idea what was going on. But I knew I had to hurt someone to make it go away. At first, I tried killing…" Katsuki took a shaky breath and hung his head in shame. "I killed some small animals. Lizards and… a rat, once. But that made me feel even worse. It didn't make it go away at all. In fact, when I tried to ignore it, the worse my temper got, and the more impulsive I became."

 

Katsuki lifted his head up. Deku's expression had stayed the same. He wasn't horrified at what he had heard. That gave Katsuki the tiniest ember of confidence to delve into one of the most heinous things he had done in his life. 

"And then," he breathed. "Something… something happened. I reached a… breaking point."

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Katsuki felt like he was going insane. In his head, a repeated mantra screamed into his soul to hurt someone. It had been three months since he witnessed someone die at his hands in an alley, and he had not been able to stop thinking about it. Why, he couldn't understand. He had been a brazen kid who enjoyed bullying people when he didn't know better, but he liked to think he had matured, at least a little bit. Katsuki never wanted to actually physically harm anyone, let alone kill . But he had this urge inside him that wanted to see what he had witnessed on that day again. Watch someone take their last breaths as the life faded from their eyes. It made him want to vomit.

 

"Katsuki! Get down here and help your father with dinner!"

His mother's voice was like nails on a chalkboard, and he instinctively gritted his teeth and threw a pillow over his head. He wanted to stay locked in his room, away from the world. Every time someone had attempted to speak to him over the last couple of months, he had to fight to resist the impulse to scream at them until his vocal chords were raw. Katsuki's hands had almost lunged at multiple people's throats. But despite how agonising it was, he had managed to control it and not snap yet.

A loud thudding knock at his bedroom door made him jolt. "Katsuki!" yelled his mother. "Get your lazy ass out of bed and come downstairs!"

"Alright!" he shouted back. His voice almost broke because he was trying to bite his tongue and not say anything that would lead to a fight and further enrage him.

 

Katsuki moved methodically to the kitchen, making sure not to do anything that might set him off. Even if he tripped over his own feet, he feared he would get angry enough to do something he'd regret. So he shuffled downstairs, meeting his father, who was pulling some vegetables out of the fridge.

"There you are, Katsuki!" he greeted with a friendly smile. He placed a few carrots and shallots on the cutting board. "Could you cut these for me? I'm going to prepare the rice."

Katsuki just nodded. His head was throbbing. It felt like it would explode from the pressure on his skull. Everything, every movement someone made, every sound that came out of their mouth, every blink of their eyelids infuriated him beyond rationality. Katsuki didn't know what was wrong with him. It was like he was in a constant heightened state of fight or flight, and everything made him want to take the fight option.

Katsuki pulled a long knife out of the drawer and began cutting the carrots. He tried to keep his mind clear and focus only on what he was doing, but he couldn't help it. Visions of him using the knife on someone else blurred his vision, and he blinked hard to get them to go away. His teeth started hurting from how much he clenched his jaw.

"Wow, never seen you look so focused on dinner, Katsuki," said Mitsuki. She was cleaning off the table, where a bunch of fabrics and paper had been spread everywhere. "If you stop being such a brat, we can use you in the kitchen more often."

 

It shouldn't have made him mad. It shouldn't have. Katsuki and his parents had this type of relationship where they made fun of each other and bantered back and forth. It never affected any of them because it was all done light-heartedly. But Katsuki's mental state couldn't register it that way. It just made his blood boil and his body heat up. Sweat built up on the back of his neck.

"He's doing a good job," Masaru replied. He put his hand on Katsuki's forearm, and the contact caused him to flinch hard. "If I can give you some advice, son, try not to cut too hard and too thin. We'd like the carrots to be a little thicker."

Katsuki wanted to drive the knife into his own eye. He was teetering on the edge of a cliff and was about to fall to his demise. All he did was nod very slowly.

"Good luck getting that kid to take criticism," Mitsuki laughed. Her cackle reverberated in Katsuki's head, and something in him shifted.

 

Like a taut elastic band that had been stretched too far, Katsuki snapped. He couldn't control himself. He watched as his body moved on his own and swung around, slashing the knife towards his father, who just barely reacted in time and stepped back uninjured.

"Katsuki!" he shouted, sounding both shocked and furious. His father was a calm man who rarely raised his voice, so hearing it in an irate tone was foreign. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

It was impossible to stop Katsuki now that he had relinquished the stability he'd been holding onto for so long. He felt like he was in a locked room, banging on the door so he could take control of the reigns in his mind and stop what he was doing. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get out.

Mitsuki rushed over to her son with a startled face, unsure what had happened. But when Katsuki raised the knife above his head, intent on swinging it down on his father, she jumped in and grabbed his wrist with both hands, pushing him back with all her might.

"Katsuki Bakugou!" she shrieked. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?!"

 

It took his mother's harsh gaze and her interception to finally compose Katsuki. His anger subsided, and he dropped the knife, letting it clatter to the floor. Mitsuki let go of his arm and stepped back, panting heavily. Mortified, Katsuki looked down at his hands, then at his parents.

"I– I'm-" He tried to force words out, but he was choking on his own spit, and he feared he might actually puke. "Dad, Mom, I- I didn't mean to–"

Both his father and mother looked at him with horrified eyes. A harsh gaze that would be burned into his brain and a tidal wave of regret knocked the oxygen from his lungs. Now, he was struggling to breathe and speak, putting a shameful hand on his stomach and over his mouth.

 

Katsuki sprinted out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into his room, locking the door firmly behind him and sliding down to the floor. He was hyperventilating now, trying to calm himself down as he breathed unhealthily quickly. Hot, disgraceful tears ran down his face, leaving a salty taste in his mouth. Once he began to inhale at a regular interval, Katsuki listened for any hint of his parents, but the house was dead silent. With shaky legs, Katsuki slowly got up and walked over to his bed, curling up into a fetal position. He pulled the covers over his head to block out the world and started to weep. Most of his sobs were dry, with no liquid coming out of his eyes anymore. 

Katsuki's morals and his urges were engrossed in a battle to the death, where one could only be subdued by engaging with the other. He didn't want to hurt his dad. He hadn't meant to do it. But the urges inside him were going to become catastrophic if he didn't deal with them soon. They had been quelled for now, vanishing when his mother stopped his outburst.

 

Right before midnight, Katsuki's parents knocked on his door. He was numb and tired, unable to sleep due to stress and all out of tears to shed. He peeled off his blanket and shuffled over to the door, unlocking it and slowly facing his parents. The horrified look they'd given him was replaced by one of concern. It didn't water down the feelings of guilt that gnawed away at Katsuki's stomach.

"Katsuki," his father said softly, caution layering his voice. "Can we talk about what happened?"

Katsuki kept his eyes trained on the carpet as he nodded and sat on his bed, sinking into the mattress. He tensed his shoulders to look as small as possible.

"Katsuki–" Mitsuki tried to start talking, but her gentle yet concerned tone made something crumble in Katsuki. The tears he thought were spent reappeared, spilling out of his scrunched-up eyes.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I didn't mean to do that. I don't know what came over me. I'm so, so sorry, I–" He hiccuped and put his head in his hands. Mitsuki and Masaru rushed over and sat beside him, placing a soothing hand on either shoulder.

"Honey, I'm very worried about what just happened," whispered Mitsuki. "You've– well, you've always been you, but you'd never want to hurt really hurt anyone, would you?"

Katsuki violently shook his head. Mitsuki moved her hand to his head and brushed his blond hair with her fingers.

"I– Katsuki, I was scared of you," she admitted. "You've been very withdrawn these last few months, more than usual. I thought maybe you were under some stress at school, and I know you don't like us to push. But I think… maybe we should have."

Masaru rubbed Katsuki's shoulder firmly. "I–I was frightened too. I don't believe you wanted to hurt me, son, but the way you reacted so violently is… worrying to me. Has this happened before?"

Katsuki sniffed. "No. I– I really don't know what happened. One second, I was chopping the food and the next… Mom was holding me back. It's like I left my body."

Masaru and Mitsuki looked at each other nervously. "This isn't like you, Katsuki," said Mitsuki. "You've been brash since you were a kid, but to try and attack someone over a comment is…" She trailed off, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Your mother and I talked about what we should do," continued Masaru. "We don't want to do anything extreme since we know you aren't a violent person. You didn't act out because you wanted to harm someone. So we think you should see a counsellor and talk about it. We've already looked a few of them up."

 

Katsuki's breath got caught in his throat. A counsellor. He'd normally rather die than talk about his feelings, especially to a stranger. But he was running out of options. If he wasn't careful, he might not be so lucky next time he snapped.

"We can talk about this more in the morning," soothed Mitsuki. "Something must be weighing on you, and if you can't tell us, then we'll help you find someone you can talk to."

Katsuki was still as his family embraced him in a hug. For the first time in a while, he let himself melt into it and feel consoled. Maybe in another timeline, this was how he was treated all the time—one where he wasn't a noncompliant brat who was comforted and loved openly by his parents. He felt a little better and even allowed himself to be hopeful—hopeful that maybe a professional could help and the urges would stay gone longer.

 

That hope started to die down when they were back when he woke up the next morning, stronger than ever.

Three days later, Katsuki was holding back the urge to tear the therapist's office apart brick by brick. He didn't want to be there, and he certainly didn't like waiting. The therapist was already five minutes late, and with every second he wasn't there, Katsuki got even more enraged.

Yes, Katsuki Bakugou had agreed to go to speak to someone. However, when researching, his parents thought that a counsellor may not be enough for Katsuki and that he might need someone more professional. So they searched for the nearest appointment they could make and found one in a few towns over. It was almost an hour and a half away, but both Katsuki and his parents didn't want to wait for something closer to town. So here Katsuki was, waiting in the lounge for this therapist to come and treat him. He tried to keep an open mind, but it was hard when everything was pissing him off. The seat was too firm. The wallpaper was ugly. The clock ticking was too loud. The–

 

"Good morning, Bakugou," greeted the therapist. Katsuki snapped his head to meet the man's eyes. He looked to be in his late fifties, with greying hair and thick glasses obscuring his face. "My name is Doctor Minami. Why don't you come in?"

Katsuki slowly got to his feet. He didn't want to get triggered by anything yet. This guy was here to help him.

Katsuki sat down on a chair opposite Minami and frowned. This one's uncomfortable, too. What the fuck is wrong with these chairs. But he forced himself to calm down and be cooperative. Pushing back wasn't going to help anyone. He wasn't about to get buddy buddy with this guy, though.

"Now, would you like to start talking, or should I ask the questions?" Minami inquired. "I've heard a little from your parents about why you're here, but I'd like to hear it from you."

Katsuki crossed his arms across his chest defensively. "I— I had… an outburst," he muttered.

"An outburst of what kind?"

Katsuki gulped. "I, uh, had a k-knife, and I nearly… hurt my dad with it."

Minami hummed. "I see. I heard something similar, but from what I've been told, this was out of character for you. Is this a pattern or an isolated incident? Have you hurt anyone before this?"

Katsuki shook his head, and Minami nodded. "That's good. I'm sure you're aware that if I suspect you to be a danger to yourself or others, we may have to look at some rehabilitation options. I'm sure we'd both like to avoid that scenario and keep you limited to just sessions with me. So talk me through what went through your mind when you decided to attack your father."

Katsuki couldn't help but scowl. "I didn't decide to do it. My body moved on its own."

"Right." From the tone of his voice, Katsuki knew he didn't believe him. "What were you thinking in that moment?"

Katsuki shrank further into the seat. "I dunno," he mumbled. "It was just kind of… impulsive. I didn't actually want to hurt him, but… I felt like I lost control of myself."

Minami tapped his pen against the clipboard in his hand. "OK. So would you say you're impulsive in other ways?"

"Not really."

"How have you been feeling recently? Any stress or things bothering you?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

He watched the man scribble a few things down. "And do you have any history of being unable to control your temper or similar feelings?"

"…Yes." Minami looked up from his clipboard.

 

"Alright, Bakugou. I've got a few ideas on what you might be going through. Let's talk about—"

"Do you deal with a lot of people like me?" Katsuki blurted out.

Minami blinked. “Pardon?”

"Do you deal with people who hurt others?"

He adjusted his glasses. "I treat a lot of different people, Bakugou. But let's focus on—"

"Have you ever treated anyone who had really bad impulses? Like someone who might have the urge to seriously harm or kill someone, even though they don't actually want to hurt them?"

Minami's eyes narrowed. "Is that what you're feeling, Bakugou?"

He felt himself start to swelter over the accusing gaze. "No, I— I just wanted to ask about the more extreme side. So I can know that maybe… I'm not as bad as that."

Minami relaxed, seemingly having bought the lie. "I cannot tell you anything specific, Bakugou. I'm sure you're not foolish and know that whatever you say here stays within these walls. That applies to other patients as well."

"…Yeah, I know."

"But committing murder is a step above attacking someone, Bakugou," he continued. "I think if someone were suffering from a condition like that, they'd have no choice but to be institutionalised for the safety of themselves and others, even if they truly didn't have any intent to harm. That's quite a dark thought, young man. I hope you're not feeling anything like that."

Katsuki stared into his eyes and lied through his teeth. "I'm not."

Relieved, Minami nodded and looked back down at his notes. "OK. I think we can come up with some strategies to keep your temper under control. It might take a little while, but if you stick to it, you should be able to regulate your negative emotions better. Sound good?"

"Sure."

After his appointment, all of Katsuki's fears were reinforced. He knew he wouldn't be accepted or treated well if people knew he was daydreaming about killing people. And it didn't matter how much he knew they were being rational. Murder was inexcusable. But knowing this didn't make Katsuki's urges go away.

To avoid being shunned for his uncontrollable compulsions and to finally put a lid on them, Katsuki bit the bullet and began researching on how he could get away with killing someone. Once he started, it was like he had tunnel vision. He was in an altered state of mind and didn't wake up until he was in the slums of Hase, holding a knife and watching blood drip out of the neck of a person he'd killed.

 

Finally, Katsuki felt fulfilled again. His soul was healed, and he had scratched the itch that had tormented him for three months. Katsuki felt like he could finally breathe once more.

Now that Katsuki had started to understand how his impulses worked, he knew what he had to do to keep it a secret. He continued to go to therapy and cooperate with Minami, saying that the strategies he was being suggested were helping when, in reality, the thing keeping his mental health in check was his murders. Katsuki found he was either an incredible liar and never knew, or his therapist was very gullible because, in every session, he continued to be praised for his willingness to put in the effort and told that he was one of Minami's best patients.

Katsuki's therapist relayed this information to his parents, saying that their son was doing great and improving greatly, which they were ecstatic to hear. It began being easier for Katsuki to look his mother and father in the eye when they believed he wasn't a danger anymore. Their familial relationship had been strained, but Katsuki had managed to salvage it. However, he knew deep down it would never be the same.

 

He had a routine. He allowed his parents to think therapy worked and he was "better". In reality, Katsuki was giving in to his impulses and had only gotten better in the sense that he was good at hiding it. Professional help wouldn't have worked. He needed to control the urges on his own terms. That didn't stop Katsuki from feeling immense guilt over certain things. He felt bad that they were wasting their money on something futile. He felt responsible for making them take time out of their day to drive him to and from the therapist's office when all Katsuki was going to do was lie for an hour. Above all else, he felt especially terrible when flashes of his parents' horrified faces appeared. They were branded into his memory. No matter how often Minami sang his unknowingly false praises or his parents said they were proud of how much he had improved, Katsuki knew in his heart that he deserved none of it.

 

He was a monster.

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"Kacchan, take a breath."

 

Katsuki had been talking for almost 20 minutes straight. Deku hadn't interrupted him once until now. He had been listening patiently, not initiating conversation so Katsuki could explain everything thoroughly. But his voice was starting to croak from how dry his throat was, and it began to be painful to speak. At first, they had been sitting side by side, but throughout the conversation, Katsuki had rotated his body towards Deku to such a degree that he was practically sitting in his lap.

 

"Do you still need a second?"

Katsuki swallowed, ignoring his scratchy throat. "I'm OK. I can still talk. I have more to say."

Deku only nodded, going back to being silent. Katsuki inhaled, the icy air burning his lungs.

"I know you want to meet my parents. I get it. But I haven't even mentioned you to them by name."

For the first time, Deku's face changed. His eyes had been empathetic and tranquil as he listened, but when he heard that Katsuki hadn't discussed him with his family, it morphed into palpable disappointment.

"I'm sorry. It's not fair. But I was so scared. I knew that if I didn't bring up my history with therapy and all that shit to you first, they'd end up bringing it up somehow," Katsuki explained. "And if you learnt it from them and not me, you wouldn't know the full context. But… for me to give you the full context, I had to tell you… that I almost killed them. And I was worried… you'd think of me differently. Because you only approve of me killing people who deserve it. And, well… my parents are innocent."

Deku smiled softly. "You put yourself in an unwinnable cycle, Kacchan."

"I know. I hate thinking about it. I hate myself for doing it. I've never gotten that horrified look they gave me out of my head."

 

Deku nudged him with his leg. "Kacchan. Do I have to keep reminding you that I'm never going to look at you any differently than I do already? Even if you didn't tell me the full context, I know you. I'm certain that you don't actually want to hurt your parents. And since you told me all the circumstances, I know it wasn't entirely your fault. You must've been so tormented by the thoughts in your head that you didn't ask for. I'm sorry you went through all that."

Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek. "Our familial relationship has always been a little rocky. But after what happened… I felt like I had shattered the perfect portrait of our family. Even if they thought I was fixed, there'd still be cracks in the glass that could chip away. I can't tell them how I really feel. I've never been able to."

"When I was a kid, I bullied other people to try and feel better. No one ever tried to stop me. I think adults have this worldview that since young children don't have any experience in life, they can't actually affect each other negatively. They believe even if teasing happens, they'll just brush it off. But it's not true. I was pretty terrible."

"Even when I stopped being such a prick, I still had that reputation set in stone. All I had for companionship were my childhood friends." Katsuki fiddled with the bracelet on his wrist. "They don't even know the real me since I always put up a guard to hide how I feel. Not just relating to the murder, but just any emotion that wasn't anger. It's stopped me from being able to connect authentically with people who are supposed to be my friends. And even if I wanted to start now, I'm scared of how they'd react. They're used to me being a miserable asshole. I'm afraid of what they'll say if I break out of that mould and be genuine for once."

Deku's arm twitched like he wanted to reach out and comfort Katsuki, but he hesitated. Katsuki decided to give him the reassurance he needed.

 

"But I'm not afraid of being genuine around you."

Deku's pace of breathing changed. Katsuki must've struck a chord in him.

"Deku, you've accepted everything good and bad about me," whispered Katsuki. "And I don't know how you have that patience. You've complied with everything I've thrown at you. And I've been a fucking dickhead to you before."

Deku laughed breathily. "Kacchan–"

"Not only that," he added. "But you've put in the effort to scratch past the walls I've built up and actually see me for who I am."

That made Katsuki pause. Who was he? To outsiders, his exterior was a harsh, rude teenager who didn't express anything other than irritation and annoyance. Deku was enamoured by it. His calamitous side, the one that had committed numerous crimes, was embraced by Deku as well. Under the mask he had built up, there was another side to Katsuki, too. The person who took their friends on drives late at night, who hung out with one person over the dozens at a party. Who recognised their skills and talents, even if they couldn't see them for themselves. Who always encouraged people to be who they wanted to be, since he couldn't do it himself.

 

"Deku, you make me want to be a better person." Katsuki looked right into his big, emerald eyes, staring into his soul as he confessed his feelings. "Too much of my life has been stolen by these stupid fucking annoying as shit urges and I've wasted so much time chasing after a compulsion that will never be filled. But now, I want to start fresh."

Deku furrowed his brow. "What do you mean by starting fresh?"

Katsuki brushed his ashy blond fringe out of his eyes. "When we went out to the field that night… and I had the urge to kill someone… something strange happened."

"What?"

"I went in, ready to do it. I was there, standing over the body. But when I went to kill them, I… I couldn't. Because I didn't want to do it anymore."

Deku's mouth parted in shock. "You didn't do it? You– You stopped it?"

Katsuki gulped. “Yeah.”

Deku started buzzing in his seat, flapping his hands back and forth. "Wait, this- that's great! You said you wanted to stop, right? If you managed to get it under control, now you don't have to worry about it anymore!"

"Well, that's assuming it doesn't come back," Katsuki pointed out. Deku frowned.

"Wait… So, when you kill someone to get rid of the compulsion, it goes away for an unspecified amount of time before coming back and repeating the loop. But… you did have the compulsion that night, and it went away without you having to kill anyone?"

"Bingo."

Deku pinched his lower lip. "Well, do you know what keeps the urge from returning?"

"I think so." Green eyes looked at Katsuki eagerly.

"All this time, I thought it was an itch that couldn't be scratched without bloodshed," Katsuki mused. "But I think I've found a new way to keep it under control." He put a hand on Deku's thigh, making the younger boy jolt a little in surprise.

 

"It's you."

 

Deku froze, eyes wide open and jaw slightly agape. Katsuki felt the blood rushing to his face as he prepared to admit his theory to him.

"E-E-Ever since we've… gotten c-close…" he stammered. "I-I've realised that I can replace the compulsion to kill with being around y-you. I don't… have to be with you 24/7… but when we go too long without seeing each other, like when you had your exams, I-I start to get the same withdrawal symptoms."

Deku put his hand over his mouth. "L-Like headaches and getting snappy and stuff?" he said, muffled by his hand.

"Yeah. I didn't feel any urges to… get violent, which I'm grateful for, but apart from that, it's exactly the same."

Deku stared at the hand that was resting on his thigh. “So… In a way… You need me?"

The way he said it made Katsuki's stomach flip. "Yeah. I need you."

The shade of red that had been living on Katsuki's face had spread to Deku's. His cheeks were flushed with a bright tint, filling his face with colour. With the snow that had collected in his hair and eyelashes, Katsuki had never seen a more adorable sight.

"I don't know why it's you." His voice was quivering, threatening to fail on him soon. "I don't feel this way about anyone else. I don't understand why you're the key to keeping me at bay. And I'm sorry that I'm dependent on you in that way–"

"Kacchan, you don't need to apologise," Deku said, dismissing the notion. "I'm just glad that you've found a way to deal with it that doesn't make you feel terrible about yourself. I'd much rather you be reliant on me than murder since I know how much you hate doing it."

Of course, Deku was still gracious, even in this scenario. Despite everything, he still prioritised others over himself.

"I don't have a problem with it at all," he smiled. "I'm happy to be the tool that you use to–"

Without even registering it, Katsuki reached for Deku's hands. He pulled his gloves off to reveal the scarred skin of his hands, clasping them tightly in his own. Deku stiffened in surprise at the sudden action, but very quickly relaxed into the hold.

 

"You're not a tool," Katsuki insisted firmly. "And this thing connecting us doesn't take anything away from you. You're still your own person, Deku."

Katsuki could feel his heartbeat slamming against his ribs. Deku's eyes were quickly darting from their hands to Katsuki's face.

"I know. I just want you to be happy, Kacchan," he whispered. The feeling of both of their hands fitting together perfectly made Katsuki's chest pound even harder.

Were Deku's hands always this warm? They lit a fire in Katsuki's palms, and he could feel each ridge of Deku's fingerprints on his skin. They were strong but smooth, with healed callouses decorating the tanned skin. God, his skin was so, so soft and gentle. Katsuki felt like he was handling a beautiful glass sculpture. He manoeuvred his fingers so they would interlock with Deku's and pulled him in a tiny bit closer.

Katsuki wanted to let his eyes flutter shut, but he couldn't deny his vision the sight of Deku, who had his own eyes locked on their joined hands. He slowly moved his thumbs out of the hold so he could run them over Katsuki's palms, rubbing circles into them.

Katsuki realised that the two of them were very, very close now. He was still able to smell Deku and hear him breathe, but it didn't bother him in the slightest. Katsuki was a magnet drawing closer, and Deku wasn't going anywhere either. The air between them was heavy, and out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki could tell the younger boy was expecting something. Holding hands didn't always have any deeper meaning than a friendly gesture. But Katsuki wasn't sure what he felt for Deku was platonic anymore.

Deku closed the last bit of chaste space between them, wandering into dangerously personal territory as he touched his forehead with Katsuki. But still, it didn't stir any sense of discomfort within him.

"Kacchan," he breathed. "Are you OK?"

Katsuki nodded, feeling Deku's hair mesh with his own. "I'm fine. I… Just want to stay like this."

He saw the corners of Deku's mouth upturn. "OK."

This was far more physical contact than they were used to. They had held hands before, usually with Katsuki leading Deku somewhere by the wrist, and he had a habit of ruffling his green hair or touching his round face, but this was different. This was… intimate.

 

"Kacchan," Deku whispered again. "Do you… want a hug?"

Yes, the immediate answer was yes. But that was another step they hadn't taken. If there was any time to take it, it'd be at that moment while they were already so close. Despite that, Katsuki couldn't help but feel like he wanted more than a hug.

Deku coaxed this feeling, this want, out of Katsuki that no one else ever could. Hug? Katsuki couldn't remember the last time he had willingly hugged someone. His friends and parents often threw their arms around him, but he never reciprocated, more often than not pushing them away. But he wanted it this time—to be close to Deku, to have their hearts almost parallel to each other, to bury his head into the boy's accepting shoulder.

Katsuki hadn't answered, but in his mind, he had already agreed to the embrace. He doubted Deku would mind not getting a verbal confirmation anyway. White clouds of warm breath billowed from their laboured mouths as Katsuki began to slowly lean in, letting his fingers softly detangle from Deku's own so he could wrap them around him.

"Bakugou!"

At the sound of a voice that wasn't Deku's, Katsuki instinctively ripped his hands away from the boy's grasp. At the forceful action, Deku's face, which had been so serene and relaxed, suddenly tensed up and dropped, dumbfounded. Katsuki was surprised at himself, too.

What the fuck? Why'd I do that?

 

Looking at where the call had come from, Katsuki saw Mina, Kaminari and Kirishima across the road, now crossing the street to meet them at the park. His adrenaline was rushing through his body, and he suddenly felt very short of breath. He was panicking.

"Fancy running into you here!" smiled Kirishima. "We were on our way over to the main square, gonna meet Jirou and Sero there. Want to come with?"

Katsuki couldn't speak. His throat was closed up, and he was trying not to hyperventilate. Deku, who had been looking at him desperately for guidance, saw that he was unresponsive and turned to the trio with a nervous grin.

"Kacchan and I were in the middle of shovelling the snow from his lawn," Deku chirped enthusiastically, hoping his cheerful tone would hide how off guard he had been caught. "We're just here to get a quick change of scenery before heading back!"

Kaminari giggled. "Of course he invited you, Midoriya. He hates shovelling snow! I bet he pawned off all the work onto you!"

Deku laughed along with the others, trying to act natural. Katsuki didn't move a muscle. He was still shell-shocked.

Then, Mina pointed at Katsuki's arm. "Who's that from? It's cute!"

Katsuki glanced down at his wrist and saw that the bracelet Deku had given him was in full view. He tugged his sleeve down, but it was too late. The trio burst into simultaneous questioning.

"Ooo, did you finally get a girl to give you the time of day? You're moving up in the world, K!"

"Why's it a Scrabble tile? Didn't know you even knew how to play, Bakugou!"

"Is it someone in our year?"

"What other friends have you been hiding from us? I bet you told Deku who it was!"

"Yeah, Midoriya, who's the bracelet from?"

Deku had been staring at Katsuki with an expectant look on his face, noiselessly begging him to admit that the gift was from him. But he didn't say a word. He couldn't. Katsuki's emotions were heightened and all over the place from the admission he'd just given to Deku, and he'd been shaken from getting spotted in such an intimate position with Deku when he didn't even know how he truly felt about the boy. Katsuki couldn't conjure up the strength to express how he really felt, so he inched closer to defaulting to the habit of keeping his true feelings locked up and not giving his friends a trace of authenticity. 

After getting no response from Katsuki, Deku opened his mouth to answer, "It's from m–"

"That shit doesn't concern you," spat Katsuki, harshly cutting the boy off. "Mind your own fucking business."

 

As soon as the words left his lips, he regretted speaking. Katsuki saw all the hope drain from Deku's eyes, his sentences serving as a poignant reminder that Katsuki still shut down any acknowledgment that the two of them were friends. In fact, as the group was stunned into silence by Katsuki's unusually aggressive tone, Deku's face morphed into an expression Katsuki had never seen directed at him before.

 

Betrayal.

"Uh, alright!" Kirishima chuckled. "Keep your secrets, man. But you won't be able to hide her forever!" The group turned and left without another word. Katsuki's heart was thumping in his ears, and despite the snow, he felt like he was on fire. Once Katsuki's friends were out of view, he finally turned to face Deku, whose eyes were darkly clouded over.

"Deku, I–"

"It's time for me to go home," he said quietly. Deku zipped up his jacket, brushing off the white layer that had settled on top. Katsuki scrambled to his feet, grasping for something to say to make up for his actions.

"Deku, fuck, wait–"

"No, it's fine, Kacchan," Deku replied flatly. He walked over to the path, facing away from the direction the two had taken to get to the park. "I'll see you at school."

"Deku, wait." He grabbed the boy's slim wrist, keeping him from taking another step. Deku stiffened up at the touch, but he didn't turn around.

"...What?"

An apology. That's all he had to say. He had been leading Deku on this ridiculous carrot chase, teasing the idea that he would one day be able to earn the honour of being called Katsuki's friend to others. But that wasn't how he wanted their relationship to be. He wanted others to know that he saw Deku as an equal, that he wanted, no, needed him to be by his side for the rest of the foreseeable future. Katsuki knew how he felt about Deku, but his feelings were worthless if his actions didn't match them. And if one only observed his actions, they wouldn't see Katsuki as a very desirable friend at all. He had no legs to stand on. He didn't talk about Deku to anyone; he mostly reserved their interactions to being late at night or isolated, and he couldn't admit to his oldest group of friends that Deku was someone he considered closer to him than them.

Deku deserved more than an apology at that moment. He had just spent a significant amount of time listening graciously to Katsuki's admission of all the terrible things he'd been hiding and accepted him like he always did. Deku deserved to know he was appreciated and that Katsuki would move heaven and earth for him. But he was still too new to this vulnerability and couldn't say it. He was too scared. Scared of the repercussions of accepting that Deku was a part of his life he couldn't live without. Because the price to pay would be welcoming that fear that Katsuki might lose him one day. And he was more terrified of that than anything else. But with the path he was heading by locking all his emotions in a vault, Katsuki would end up pushing the person he needed most away himself.

Katsuki's throat was still closed up, and any attempt at speaking was halted by his dry mouth. Deku was still very rigid, and the spot where Katsuki was holding onto his arm was ice cold. He had to say something to Deku, even if it wasn't everything Katsuki needed to tell him.

"U-Um…" Katsuki stuttered. "T-Thanks for…um… inviting me out. I– I had a… good time."

 

All Deku did was give a discontented nod before Katsuki released his wrist and let him walk off onto the horizon.

 

Katsuki didn't move from the spot on the path until Deku was nothing more than a speck in his vision. Then, he collapsed down onto the snow-cloaked grass, putting his head in his hands and clenching his jaw so tightly that his cheekbones started to cramp. 

After everything Katsuki had confided in Deku, he still couldn't do the bare minimum and call him a friend in front of others. It scared him, but that wasn't a good enough excuse. Self-hatred pooled in the depths of his stomach as Katsuki recalled Deku's expression of betrayal when he interrupted him. He said he wasn't afraid of being genuine around Deku. What a joke. He didn't even have the courage to let him take credit for a gift he had made himself. He ran his fingers over the bracelet's beads, each one of them lovingly threaded on the string Deku had knotted so perfectly. 

Goddamnit. Katsuki knew how hard it had been for the younger boy. He had divulged such sensitive information about how it had been excruciatingly difficult for him to make friends and keep them in his life, and Katsuki couldn't even return the favour. Deku was a caring person and a damn good friend that Katsuki never deserved.

He didn't deserve any of his friends. Katsuki was an intruder in his group's genuine camaraderie. He had lost the right to be there as soon as he stole another person's life. Deku and the others had so much to give the world, but Katsuki could only destroy it. What solace could he find if not in violence? He didn't deserve love from his friends, or family, or anyone. It didn't matter how often Deku said Katsuki was a good person. He was lying, obviously just trying to make him feel better. If he were such a 'good person', he'd turn himself in and atone for his crimes. But Katsuki was a selfish individual, and there were an unspecified amount of people who had died at his inconsiderate hands, used as a tool that temporarily extended his internal peace until he felt the urge to harm again. The time would come when he would pay the price for his sins, and that was when his heart stopped and his lungs exhaled oxygen for the final time. Only then would he know what it meant to be on the receiving end of death, and not the bestowing.

 

The snow started to fall again. Katsuki sat still as a statue for hours, letting himself be cloaked in layers of white. Maybe it was a way for him to bury himself under all the negative emotions and let himself melt into the earth, hide away from all the pain he had inflicted on others. Maybe it was because he had no energy to get up, and the chill that was burrowing into his bones wasn't even an issue because he didn't deserve to feel warmth.

 

All Katsuki knew for sure was that he’d acted like a pathetic fucking coward.

Notes:

this chapter had SOO much monologuing GAHHH i hope it wasnt too jarring i tried to make sure it flowed well

next chapter will be very very long. its probably gonna take me quite a few days to write so im sorry about making you wait again
its going to be an izuku recap with all his emotions and thoughts through previous scenes where we've only seen katsuki's pov. ive always wanted to write a pov switch up this way so i hope i do it justice and you like it!! stay tuned!!!!! (ง ื▿ ื)ว

Chapter 12: A Mistake

Notes:

story playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=m__dGHQIS5uiph0U0PMi-A

so. in this fic deku has been kind of tame for someone i described as a “stalker”. but thats because youve only seen him from the outside. remember when kacchan says deku might be more unhinged than he is? yeah thats shown in full when you get his pov

i almost split this chapter into two because it got so long but i decided to just drop it all in one, hope the pacing is still alright? i was gonna call deku’s pov “an obsession” and kacchan’s “a mistake” but oh well here we are.

unsurprisingly this chapter is very long: 11.6k words are dk pov then it switches back to bk for 10.8k words. 22.4k words in total! whoa mama! have fun!!! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

The faint feeling of a knife pressed up against his throat still lingered, and Izuku shouldn't have been so OK with it. But since it was Kacchan who was holding it, Izuku was surprisingly at ease with the memory. His fingers ghosted over his neck, recalling the raspy, dangerous tone in which Kacchan had spoken to him. His heart skipped several beats.

 

Izuku had been waiting at the hideout spot for a couple of days, scanning the run-down area and waiting to see if Kacchan would show up. He had started to lose faith when he finally spotted a shadowy figure sneaking around, and a hopeful fire was relit in his soul. Izuku hadn't intended to reveal himself to Kacchan. But when he recognised his voice creeping up behind him and make demands in that familiar forceful voice, he couldn't help but feel excited that they would now have an opportunity to talk.

And then, Kacchan invited Izuku back to his home, and he had to try his best to hide his excitement. Kacchan clearly wasn't happy about it, but Izuku wanted to jump for joy. Him! In Kacchan's room! Where he spent all his time and which held all his personal things! Izuku couldn't wait to get a glance at it. He eagerly followed Kacchan across Hase, grateful for the mask covering the lower half of his face. Izuku was sure Kacchan would call him a freak for grinning so widely.

 

Now here he was, looking around Kacchan's room, sitting on his bed and waiting for him to come back. Well, he hadn't gone far. Izuku could hear the water running from the ensuite, so he assumed Kacchan was cleaning himself up in there. They had just had a conversation about Kacchan's murders, and he'd learned a lot, despite the limited information he had been given.

Reluctantly, Kacchan started off by explaining to Izuku that he wasn't pursuing justice in his kills. He did target bad people, but it was because they were easiest to get alone. Izuku thought that was interesting. Kacchan had to be holding onto some sort of conscience since he recognised that certain people deserved to be his victims more than others.

Kacchan then told him that he got the urge every month or so, and it was something that he had to do. He knew that what he was doing was wrong from an ethical standpoint, but if he didn't 'take care of it', as he put it, then bad things would happen. And then Kacchan refused to provide any more information. But thanks to some well-worded provocations, Izuku also learned that Kacchan had been doing this for four years, which only made him more excited. Kacchan got annoyed since he clearly didn't mean to give that up and scorned Izuku. Despite the harsh tone, Izuku had clung to every word, fascinated.

Not only that, but there were little things that Kacchan said that made Izuku feel like maybe he was more interested in him than he wanted to admit. He had been curious about how Izuku had been getting around the city so easily and was seemingly impressed with his parkour skills. However, the more significant thing that happened was that Kacchan noticed that Izuku's bruise had faded. In Izuku's mind, that was a big green flag. They didn't know each other well and had gotten off to a rocky start. He'd made it clear that were it not for the circumstances, he'd want nothing to do with Izuku. But for Kacchan to take interest in that detail, which didn't matter too much in the grand scheme of things, was something Izuku was going to remember.

 

Izuku scanned the room, taking note of everything his curious eyes landed on. There was Kacchan's desk, which had his laptop sitting on top. That must be where he did all of his research into finding a target. His closet was shut, and Izuku sat on his twitching hands so he didn't act on the urge to go over and have a peek inside. There was a full-length mirror that Izuku caught his own reflection in. Kacchan's bed, of course, which Izuku was sitting on, was so warm and soft, and he felt like he could melt right into the mattress.

Next to Izuku was the messenger bag he'd brought with him. He'd been forced to shove his trusty notebook inside in the frantic rush to get out of the building, so he unzipped the bag and pulled it out. The corner was a little crumpled, so Izuku clicked his tongue and smoothed it out, flipping to the page he had been writing on. A lot of its contents were notes that he'd taken while observing Kacchan, right before he lost sight of him and he ended up with a knife to his throat. Izuku scanned his handwriting, which would be illegible if he wasn't the one who wrote it.

Izuku hadn't even realised that his mouth was moving and that he was mumbling. But when his notebook was snatched out of his hands, he stopped talking to himself and looked up. Kacchan had taken the book and was holding it above his head, reading what Izuku had written.

"Kacchan!" he squeaked. Kacchan ignored his plea and slammed his hand over Izuku's mouth, shutting him up. Izuku breathed heavily against his palm, staring down at the fingers that were almost gripping his flushed cheeks. Eventually, Kacchan chuckled and pulled away, handing Izuku's book back.

"You really are a stalker, aren't you, you geek?" Izuku felt his face getting hotter, especially so when Kacchan laughed softly at his embarrassment. Then, he leaned against the wall, hands stuck in his pockets. He looked so effortlessly handsome changed out of his clothes, now wearing what were closer to pyjamas. A grey shirt and dark blue sweatpants that weren't knotted and hung dangerously low on his hips. Izuku made sure to halt any attempts at his eyes snaking downwards.

"Alright, Deku," mused Kacchan. "I'll acknowledge that you're not completely thoughtless when it comes to this shit. But I still don't want to be treated like your goddamn science project. So I'm going to propose a compromise."

A compromise! "Yeah?"

"If you're gonna… observe me or whatever, it's going to be on my terms," Kacchan instructed. "I will be the one to contact you, if I feel like it. No more following me or tracking me without me knowing, got it?"

"Got it." This was perfect. It was precisely what Izuku wanted. Even when he didn't know Kacchan's identity, he only wanted to watch him in action and learn from it. Now, he was being explicitly invited!

"I don't know what you're planning on getting out of this, but I've searched for an answer to why I am the way that I am for a while, and I've come up empty. Don't think you're gonna figure me out so easily." Kacchan stretched and yawned, his fingertips almost brushing the ceiling. Izuku nodded.

"I understand, Kacchan. Don't worry," he agreed. "Thank you… for compromising for me."

Kacchan sneered at him. "It's not for you," he chided. "You're a pest who won't leave me alone otherwise. So I may as well set some rules."

 

Well, it was a long shot for Izuku to get his hopes up. He knew Kacchan didn't like him all that much, and Izuku couldn't say his feelings were unwarranted. He had stalked him and shown up in his life out of nowhere. But Izuku was determined to prove he was someone who was genuinely interested in Kacchan, too.

Izuku's shoes were handed to him. "You should head out now," said Kacchan. "I've got to sleep. Since you're apparently a parkour wizard or whatever, you should be able to get down fine."

Izuku grinned, and he pulled on his shoes. "I think I can manage that."

Kacchan opened the window, letting the icy wind flow in. Izuku hoisted himself out, turning around to give a final wave. "I'll see you at school, Kacchan."

Izuku dropped down, landing firmly on the ground. The height wasn't too dangerous, but his ankles stung a little from the impact. Grass rustled as he crept through the garden, heading to the main road. After sneaking over to the dark side of the street, he stole one last glance at Kacchan's house. The light emanating from his room had gone out. Izuku smiled.

Sleep well, Kacchan.

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The walk home wasn't long, but Izuku always wished that he didn't have to share his car with his mother and use it to drive to and from school. It was especially worse in the hotter weather, but he didn't mind the stroll since it was a nice day out.

Izuku didn't see Kacchan that day, and it made a sad pit form in his stomach. He had been hoping to catch a glimpse of his sharp red eyes in the halls, but his time was taken up by some lost first-years who needed assistance with some of their subjects. Izuku always liked to lend a helping hand, so as much as he wanted to see Kacchan, he didn't mind going a day without him.

 

Kacchan was all Izuku could think about since the party he'd been reluctantly invited to. He occupied every corner of his mind, always lingering in his thoughts. He had memorised all the details about him, all the directions his spiky hair sprouted out, his angled, ruby eyes that were so beautiful even when they glared at Izuku scornfully. Kacchan's physique was something out of Izuku's dreams, perfectly strong and slim in all the right places.

A sharp buzz in Izuku's pocket interrupted his daydreaming. He groaned and fished his phone out, unlocking it to see who had texted him. It was probably his mother telling him to pick something up on the way back. Or maybe she'd be late to dinner that night, so Izuku would have to take care of himself. Or maybe—

 

[KACCHAN] - 15:03

nerd

come over to my house at around 8:30

i’m assuming you don’t need me to send the address.

 

Izuku's eyes bulged out of their sockets at what he saw. Kacchan had messaged him! For the first time, he had texted first! Izuku had to fight to not jump up and down, but he did allow his hands to shake a little in excitement.

Kacchan was fully aware Izuku had his home address and knew how to get there. It was how they met in the first place. Shamefully, Izuku did not use ethical methods to find it. But from how Kacchan had been acting, it seemed like he didn't actually mind that much. He had been creeped out for sure at first, but he'd never given Izuku any hell about it afterwards. Izuku couldn't help his wandering mind. Did that mean Kacchan would maybe be OK with him coming over more often? Maybe after the party, he had actually started to warm up! But Izuku knew he was probably getting a little too wishful. Kacchan wasn't so easily swayed. He knew that much from the older boy's reputation at school.

Izuku shot him a text back, asking why Kacchan wanted him to come over, but didn’t receive a reply. That’s OK, he thought. Maybe he’s busy. He could be at work.

 

Izuku couldn't help himself. He wanted to try and keep calm and not come off too clingy to Kacchan, whom he had only known for two weeks. Izuku knew he had a side to him that would get a little too creepy when he was amped up. He didn't want to scare Kacchan off. But he was also itching to get a response, so when he got back to his house and sat down on his bed, he sent another text. After pulling off his heavy blazer and freeing his neck from his pitifully knotted tie, he checked to see if he'd gotten an answer. Nothing.

Izuku caught sight of himself in the mirror. He had always been on the smaller side, never reaching the heights of a lot of his classmates and remaining mostly skinny no matter how much he tried to bulk up. When he removed his shirt, he could see how much he had let himself go after stopping active exercise. His legs were still pretty toned after years of training, but he wasn't as slim in the stomach as before, and his flesh squished a little when he poked himself in the abdomen. The stick regime he'd held himself to for so long had been long forgotten. Intrusively, Izuku wondered if Kacchan had a workout routine. He must've if he looked the way he did…Maybe that's what he was doing and why he wasn't answering—

 

Stop being gross. Izuku clicked his tongue and pulled his uniform back on. He wasn't sure what Kacchan would want him to wear to his house. He didn't want to risk wearing something too casual or formal, so he decided to stick with his blazer and maybe just throw on a jacket over the top.

As he sat down at his desk to get some work done in the meantime, Izuku took another glance at his phone. Still nothing from Kacchan. He hoped the boy wasn't mad at him. The last time they had interacted was at the party, and Izuku barely remembered any of that night because he had gotten so drunk. However, a few flashes in his memory were clearer than others. Izuku remembered getting to the party and immediately being offered alcohol by Kirishima and Kaminari. Not trying to look like a total dweeb, he accepted it, instantly feeling the strong taste. It didn't reassemble anything Izuku had ever had before, and he didn't understand how people faked ID and snuck out just to try it. But determined to look cooler than he was, he drank a few cups, pushing down his bitter expression when the drink hit his tastebuds.

 

Then, he could vaguely remember Kacchan snatching the drink away and leading Izuku to a secluded place, where he had warned him about the dangers of drinking the communal punch. A flutter arose in Izuku's stomach at the memory. Kacchan was looking out for him in his own way. He'd even offered him water when Izuku had passed the line of sobriety to try and keep him hydrated. And, when the game of truth or dare started to tiptoe into inappropriate territory, the one who had stood up for Izuku was Kacchan.

Most other memories of that night were a blur. Izuku remembered passing out on someone's bed and being lightly conscious enough to register he was being carried to a car. What he remembered clearest of all was the peaceful look on Kacchan's face when Izuku climbed on top of his car and caught him drawing. But as lovely as that memory was, there was a sour side too, because he knew all too well how quickly Kacchan's face had dropped into a default scowl when he noticed Izuku was there watching him. It was a long shot, but he was hopeful. Maybe one day, Kacchan could gaze at Izuku with that same serene look.

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"Please let me know if you need anything at all!" announced Uraraka. "Have fun, and I can't wait to see what you make!"

 

Izuku fiddled with the tip of a paintbrush as Uraraka put on some quiet and relaxing music. He'd already begun with his own painting, outlining a few colours so he could recreate the image of a potted plant that sat against Uraraka's windowsill. Izuku took a peek over at Kacchan's canvas. He hadn't started yet and was rhythmically tapping his brush against the palette. It made Izuku a little nervous. Had this been a bad idea? He wanted to do something nice for Kacchan, to show that he was genuinely interested in being his friend. But before he could get worried, Kacchan walked over to Uraraka and got something from her. When he came back, Izuku saw that he was separating his canvas into two equal sections with a strip of masking tape.

 

Ooh, he's really taking this seriously.

 

When Kacchan saw Izuku snooping at his work, he held up his palette to block the view. Izuku pouted.

"Eyes on your own work, nerd," Kacchan said. Izuku tried to get a glance, but Kacchan moved the palette to sever his line of sight.

"What are you doing with the tape?" Izuku asked. "Are you sectioning the canvas into equal squares? Are you going to draw two different scenes? What colours are you going to- AH!"

Kacchan flicked paint thinner at Izuku, and he shut his mouth so it didn't drip off his face and into his mouth.

"Focus on your art." Izuku did as he was told and wiped the liquid off his face, returning to his own canvas. As he dipped his paintbrush into the mixing colours, he began to daydream about their previous encounter. It was certainly an intense one, but it also brought up more questions for Izuku than answers.

Izuku recalled being in the slums of Hase with Kacchan, sneaking around and being on high alert. Kacchan had scouted an area where he could watch him kill, ensuring he was safely out of view but could still see what was going on. While Izuku was in the building, watching and waiting for Kacchan to appear, he remembered what had happened that afternoon. As soon as he walked through Kacchan's doors, he had been shoved against a wall and accused of being an informant. Despite how surprised he was and how sinfully titillated he felt being so close to Kacchan, he wasn't sure if he should feel complimented by the fact that Kacchan thought Izuku had it in him to be an undercover spy.

Then Kacchan demanded he take off his clothes so he could check if he was hiding anything. Admittedly, that made Izuku a bit uncomfortable. But not for the reasons someone would initially think. He wasn't so insecure about his body that he refused to take his shirt off. Izuku could do it just fine in locker rooms and when he and his mother went to the beach on sunny summer days. And it wasn't like he was scared Kacchan would do anything to him. The older boy had all the reasons to be cautious of a stranger if he wanted to stay out of jail. But for Izuku to unclothe in front of Kacchan, who looked like he had been carved out of Greek marble… could you really blame him for being a little embarrassed? Plus, it had come out of nowhere, and Izuku had no time to prepare himself to be scrutinised by Kacchan's critical gaze. But in the end, the interaction ended with Kacchan saying he trusted Izuku. So that was all that really mattered.

 

Izuku had been trying his best to get Kacchan to be comfortable around him and maybe build up to saying they were friends. He had listened to Izuku explain his fascination with crime and homicide, and Kacchan had listed his own reasons as to why he chose the targets he did. Izuku couldn't understand why Kacchan thought he was a bad person. He was killing people who deserved it. In Izuku's eyes, that made him a good person, even if he didn't admit it.

When Kacchan reunited with Izuku after killing the victim, he was excited to gush over the kill and was buzzing with curious questions to ask. But when Kacchan rejoined him, he refused to look Izuku in the eye. And, as Izuku had watched him through the binoculars, his eyes looked… tortured. He had kept that disturbed look on his face until they got home, and Izuku had to beg Kacchan to look at him again.

Izuku tried posing the question of 'are we friends' to Kacchan again. He thought he might have a chance at getting a yes this time. They had done stereotypically friendly things, hadn't they? Kacchan had let him look at his art— well, some of it. It was a start, at least. They had picked out Kacchan's target together, and he hadn't pushed back the idea of Izuku helping out with choosing. Even after Kacchan had adamantly affirmed that they were not friends, he still offered Izuku a game of Scrabble.

What's more, he'd bantered and joked with him throughout. Were they actually getting closer? Izuku thought so. But at the end of the night, Kacchan still refused to say they were friends. That stung a little, but Izuku wasn't one to give up. He was going to keep trying his best. Kacchan clearly didn't hate him; if he did, he'd want nothing to do with him. So as long as Izuku kept showing Kacchan that he cared for him, they would surely become friends soon.

 

Izuku's painting was coming together nicely. It certainly had that beginner vibe to it, but he didn't mind. It didn't have to be flawless. All that mattered was that he tried. For the first time since focusing on his own canvas, Izuku peered over at Kacchan's. He still couldn't see what he was painting since his broad frame was obscuring Izuku's vision. But that was fine. Because he could analyse all the details about Kacchan himself instead. He snuck glances at Kacchan's furrowed brow and concentrated eyes. They were a beautiful shade of red that Izuku could only dream would one day look at him with kindness and not disdain. His slim, talented hands moved around the canvas like he was conducting a choir, swapping between thin and thick brushes effortlessly. As Izuku watched his hands, he noticed something that made his eyebrows raise.

Oh, he thought. I thought Kacchan was right - handed. When they went out to enact their mission in the slums, Izuku paid attention to Kacchan's dominant hand, and he indeed held the knife in his right one. But now, in front of him, he was painting with his left with no struggle. Come to think of it, when Izuku climbed onto the roof of Kacchan's car and saw him drawing in his sketchbook, he also used his left hand to do so.

Huh. I guess he’s ambidextrous. Izuku smiled to himself. Wow… Kacchan’s so cool.

 

Alright, Izuku could admit he had a crush on Kacchan. It was hard not to develop one, seeing as he looked like he had stepped out of one of Izuku's fantasies and was perfect in almost every other way. No matter how many rude comments Kacchan made, he still blushed, and even when Kacchan accused him of stalking him, like he had when he handed him his favourite boba flavour, Izuku still felt tingly all over at the fact that he was giving him that much credit. Even when he messages Kacchan and only gets a dry text as a reply, Izuku's heart skipped a beat every time he saw the notification. Now, if only he could get Kacchan to like him back. Firstly, he had to convince him to consider Izuku a friend. So, earlier that morning, he thought of something that they could do together, the painting class he had researched a few days before.

Before texting Kacchan, Izuku scrolled through their messages, staring dreamily at them. It didn't matter that Kacchan took forever to respond; the fact that he was responding made Izuku feel warm inside. And then, when he noticed the bubble that indicated Kacchan was trying to type up a message but repeatedly deleting it, Izuku couldn't help but think that was the most adorable thing in the whole world. He took the cold plunge and messaged Kacchan first, successfully organising them to meet.

 

It was nice being in close proximity to Kacchan and seeing him so focused and calm as he added details to his painting. But the wait was worth it when Kacchan showed off his completed canvas. It was gorgeous. A symphony of yellows, reds and purples showed a beautiful coastal sunrise, with a light blue depicting the ocean and vivid greens showing the lush nature surrounding the beach. Kacchan had also painted a car looking out over the horizon. Izuku's heart grew when he realised what he had painted. This was the lookout Kacchan drove to when he was waiting for Izuku to wake up.

Izuku turned around, expecting to face Kacchan, but instead, a crowd of people were surrounding him, gushing over the amazing painting. Izuku searched the faces for a familiar pair of red eyes. In the foyer, he found them, but then froze. Kacchan was holding his and Izuku's coats, and the blue messenger bag was slung across his shoulder. But what made Izuku's jaw clench was the sight of a random girl, hounding Kacchan and talking to him even though his face clearly screamed uninterested.

He couldn't hear what they were talking about, but just looking at them interacting and how uneasy Kacchan looked made Izuku furious. Couldn't she tell that Kacchan didn't want to speak to her? He had obviously left the room to escape the heavy crowd. But just as he was beginning to calm down, rationalise his mind and tell himself that she was probably just complimenting his work, Izuku saw the girl lay a flirty hand on Kacchan's forearm. He could feel a vein in his head twitch and his eyes narrow.

Izuku was unable to move, staring at the two of them angrily. He wanted to go over and yank her hand away. Izuku wasn't a violent person, and he was very respectful on the outside. But just like everyone else, he had an ugly, jealous side too. And now, fury was bubbling in his stomach. Luckily, right before it erupted, Kacchan seemed to brush the girl off. He heard the older boy call out his name and say that they were going to leave. The envious expression vanished from Izuku's face, replaced with an elated grin. He jeered at the girl in his head as he collected both of their dried paintings.

 

Ha! Take that! Kacchan would rather hang out with me!!

 

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Izuku scrambled into his bed, mind racing with all the events of that night. He didn't even care that the neglected pile of clothes had created a massive pile on the floor. Izuku pulled the covers up to his chin, giggling as images of Kacchan ran through his head.

 

Firstly, Izuku never thought that seeing Kacchan would bring any emotion other than joy, but when he saw his silhouetted figure in his window, he felt real fear around him for the first time. Though, it subsided pretty quickly when Kacchan climbed in through the window and made himself at home in Izuku's room. Izuku felt like he had been caught in the act. Ever since Kacchan thanked him for inviting him out to paint, the older boy was all he could think about while he did his homework. It didn't help that the topic of the unit was serial killers, although Izuku would never add anything to his essays that may implicate Kacchan. But no matter how much envisioning he did, Izuku didn't expect his crush to just materialise in front of him.

They still hadn't been labelled as friends, but Izuku was getting a lot more hopeful that they were getting close to that stage. Kacchan had said that the painting idea was thoughtful. And now he was here in the middle of the night, inviting Izuku to hang out with him. That was something friends did, right? And sure, Izuku felt feelings that weren't defined as platonic now. But he was OK with hiding that and just longing for the simple reward of friendship.

Kacchan had said that he wanted to hang out with him. He wasn't a last-ditch option or the alternative to a party. Izuku was who Kacchan had wanted to see. He had brought Scrabble, which was a game that they had already connected over. And not only that, but they actually talked. Not just about random things, but about how Kacchan felt. He had opened up!

The first thing he said was 'sorry.' That was unbelievable. Kacchan said sorry! He apologised, even though Izuku knew from his reputation at school that there was a rumour he had never even uttered the word. But he'd said it to Izuku, and he'd meant it. Izuku had to try and keep his cool when it happened, but now that he was alone in his room, he was free to freak out over it a little.

 

He apologised to me! Izuku thought, kicking his feet against his blankets. As far as I know, I'm the only one! No one else! His apologies belong to me!

Izuku didn't even think Kacchan needed to apologise. He didn't harbour any bad feelings towards him for making him take off his clothes. But it was a sweet sentiment, and Izuku couldn't help but think about how cute he looked while wracked with remorse.

Izuku's late-night imagination was dangerous. He covered his mouth with his hand, foolishly thinking that would stop the sensual thoughts that were running through his head. I bet under the right circumstances… Kacchan would be such a gentleman when taking off someone's clothes. I think he'd be delicate and caring and always making sure they were comfortable with—

He pinched the bridge of his nose to snap himself out of it. Get a hold of yourself, Izuku. They weren't even officially friends. Kacchan had yet to say that aloud. Izuku had an overwhelming crush on him, but their camaraderie was the first thing to establish in their relationship. In his opinion, Kacchan definitely thought of him as at least an acquaintance. If he thought of him as a friend, he was refusing to admit it for some reason. Izuku sighed. He was attracted to everything about Kacchan, but there was something so hot about someone who could communicate effectively. It was a shame Kacchan was so emotionally constipated.

The last thing that Izuku pondered on before he drifted off was the description of the first kill Kacchan had committed. At that moment, he was so wrapped up in emotion that Kacchan trusted him enough to share the event with him that he didn't pay too much attention to the specifics. But as Izuku recalled the details, something strange stood out to him about the murder. It sounded similar to another death he was closely familiar with.

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Izuku debated what he should wear to the arcade. He narrowed it down to two outfits that paired an oversized sweater with a button-up collar that peeked through the neck. One was dark orange, and one was sage green. Both were stylish and thick enough to keep him warm in the cold weather. But one question ate away at him, making him unsure which one he was going to pick.

 

Which one would Kacchan like more?

 

Izuku couldn't exactly text Kacchan and ask his opinion because he'd probably come off as a little weird. He didn't hide much around the older boy, but anything that might hint that he had a crush on him was teetering into a territory Izuku didn't want to touch yet.

This would be the first outing with Kacchan and his group since he told Izuku he was one of his friends. He had the words burned into his memory now, the dark lighting, the fact that they were alone, and how vulnerable Kacchan had been. Izuku was thrilled to hear the words come out of Kacchan's mouth, but he couldn't deny that his imagination had wandered a little far when Kacchan said he had something to tell him. Izuku had shamelessly thought that Kacchan was about to confess his love and was stupidly pulled back to earth when that didn't happen. He blamed all the cheesy romance novels he'd been reading. But Izuku would take friend for now.

Izuku hoped that Kacchan would have the courage to say the two of them were friends in front of others. He struggled to get the words out in public, as shown when he referred to Izuku as his 'classmate' at school. It hurt a bit, but Izuku couldn't blame him too much. Kacchan was under so much pressure to keep up appearances. He only hoped that he could get close enough to Kacchan to help crumble those walls.

 

When the two of them were alone, it just felt… right. And Izuku knew he couldn't have been alone in thinking so. Kacchan was so much more open when it was only Izuku's ears that would listen. He had admitted to Izuku that he wasn't as big of a fan of horror movies as he assumed, when it would have been easier for him to lie and go along with it. But thanks to Kacchan telling the truth, Izuku found out that there was a facet to Kacchan's compulsions that he didn't know about. Right after killing someone, Kacchan felt immense regret and disgust with himself. That proved to Izuku that he had been right all along and that Kacchan's real character condemned the violence. He only did it because it was necessary for him to function. Now, Izuku wanted to do whatever he could to assist Kacchan when possible. If only he could convince Kacchan to help him try to combat the urges.

Izuku alternated between the orange and green sweaters for a length of time that was far from acceptable. When the clock got threateningly close to the time he was supposed to meet the group at the arcade, he hurriedly pulled on the green one.

 

I hope Kacchan thinks I look nice.

 

Izuku was high on cloud nine when he skipped back to his house after the outing. Not only had he had the best time ever with a group of amazing people, but he'd had some alone time with Kacchan!

There were a few factors that were still confusing, but Izuku tried not to think so negatively. Kacchan still hadn't said that he and Izuku were friends. Every time the question was posed, it would just get brushed off. It was good to know that Kacchan would say it when he and Izuku were alone, but it would be nice to hear it said around other people. It was confusing because, despite that, Kacchan kept doing nice things that Izuku would expect a friend to do. He bought Izuku water after the dance — which he also said Izuku looked good doing. That sent him into a whirlwind of emotions that he didn't even want to try and unpack. They had played a bunch of the arcade minigames, and Izuku had a sneaking suspicion Kacchan was showing off to try and impress him. At the claw machine, Kacchan had won Izuku a raspberry plush. He picked up the soft toy and ran his fingers over it. The material was silky and pleasant to the touch. But there was such irony in the fact that this was the fruit he had won from the game. Of course he had.

 

Izuku didn't know what to think. He didn't want to force Kacchan to say anything he didn't want to, and if he didn't want to call Izuku his friend yet, that was alright. It would be nice to hear sometime soon, especially as that vile jealousy began to build up inside Izuku when Kacchan referred to the others as his friends. But then again… after the hangout was over, Kacchan had waited for everyone else to leave and then invited Izuku to go on a walk. Not the others, just him.

Izuku took out his phone and looked at the photo Kacchan had taken of them in the park. He felt his face start to ache at how much he involuntarily smiled. Kacchan looked so… genuine. When Izuku zoomed in, he saw two dimples on his cheeks, a feature that he had never seen on the boy's face before. He longed for the chance to run his fingers across Kacchan's smooth skin and feel those dimples under his fingertips.

It was too late for Izuku to deny it. When Kacchan had listened to him talk about how he hadn't had much luck with friends and didn't make light of it, it cemented Izuku's feelings firmer. It was too soon to hope for any mutual feelings, but Izuku was always a dreamer.

 

He was falling in love with Kacchan.

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Izuku blinked at his phone. Did I read that right? He rubbed his eyes, staring at the bright screen. Raspberries? Is he serious? Kacchan wants to commit another murder with me?!

"Midoriya!" Furukawa called out. Her tone was a lot nicer than the harsh voice of his former boss, and he mentally sent another thank-you prayer to Kacchan for getting rid of him.

"Your break's over, pal!" she said. Oh, crap. He quickly typed a reply to Kacchan's text so he wasn't left on read.

"Coming!" Izuku shoved his phone in his pocket and ran back out onto the floor, trying to push the thought of Kacchan out of his mind. It was futile.

Izuku tried to focus on working, paying attention to the tables he was running food to. But there wasn't much use. He was running through all the possibilities of what could happen. Time slowed down for Izuku, and he felt like the end of his shift was never going to come. Every minute dragged on for hours, and he swore that the clocks on the wall were purposely going at a snail's pace just to mess with him.

How could he properly serve customers with the thought that Kacchan had invited him out stuck in his head? And he hadn't invited Izuku out to play Scrabble again or to go for a walk at sunset; he had invited him out to kill. That was probably one of the most intimate things someone in their situation could do. Izuku even let his delusions tell him it was 'practically a date' before he calmed himself down.

While dropping off some grimy dishes into the kitchen sink, Izuku frowned. Last time he watched Kacchan commit murder, the boy's ruby eyes had looked unusually distressed. He wouldn't even look at Izuku until prompted. There could be something about Izuku's presence that tilted him.

Perhaps he doesn’t like it when I watch, Izuku wondered. It’s sort of like the opposite of a voyeur—

 

Izuku slapped his freckled cheeks with soapy hands. Don’t be perverse, Izuku! He had to stop thinking about Kacchan. It was distracting him too much. But even when he tried to pay attention to washing his hands, he caught sight of his stained sleeves.

Oh man, if he’s coming to get me, I won't have a change of clothes out of this uniform. Izuku sighed. How embarrassing. I hope he doesn’t mind this dirty apron…

Izuku tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. Katsuki had run off a few minutes ago, off to commit a murder and fulfil the compulsion that had been bothering him for the last couple of days. He had been right— Kacchan didn't like it when he watched him kill. It should've been upsetting, knowing that Izuku couldn't observe any more murders. But he was concerned about Kacchan's mental health first. Izuku didn't want to see that tormented look in Kacchan's eyes ever again.

Speaking of his expression, Izuku recalled how Kacchan looked when he first laid eyes on him that night. It was a little weird, a strange mixture of happiness and yearning. It was an expression Izuku had only seen on his face once, right after Kacchan had killed his victim, and Izuku had watched. Was this the high he had mentioned before? The feeling of fulfilling the urge right before the regret and disgust came crashing down? If so, why did he look at Izuku like that? Was Kacchan really just that excited to see him after just a few weeks?

Did he miss me as much as I missed him? Izuku wondered. I can’t help but hope so.

Izuku couldn't help but feel a little giddy about guarding Kacchan's secret. He was the only person Kacchan trusted with it. Suck on that, everyone else. Izuku thought about what type of person Kacchan had picked out this time. He probably should have asked before he left. Izuku frowned. With how busy he'd been with winter exams, it had been a while since he had a chance to check on the forum. Izuku would have to give it a browse soon and see what he'd missed.

A sudden tapping jolted Izuku from his thoughts. He turned to the window and narrowed his eyes, but relaxed when he saw Kacchan's face after pulling down his mask. Izuku unlocked the door and moved back to the passenger seat, letting Kacchan collapse into the car.

"Kacchan, are you alright?" Izuku asked. He looks out of breath. Did he run? Why?

"I'm… fine," panted Kacchan. There was some doubt in his voice. Did someone spot him? No way. Kacchan's amazing. He's always so thorough.

"What about your clothes?" Izuku pointed at Kacchan's arms. "Do you need new ones?"

Kacchan pulled off his gloves and rolled up his sleeves. "I'm fine, Deku. I didn't get blood on myself."

Izuku frowned. Well, if he says he's OK, I should believe him, right? Maybe it's just a bit of stress. I guess it's kind of my fault for being here. So I won't poke further.

Izuku tried to change the subject and launch into some questions, but Kacchan shut those down too. Something was off about him, but he wasn't letting anything slip. Kacchan wanted to spend time with him now. Izuku wouldn't let anything ruin the rest of the night by prying too much.

 

OK, so, Kacchan killed my dad.

Izuku was focusing on driving him and Kacchan home and navigating the dark streets of Hase. He'd never driven anyone's car other than his own, so he was gripping the steering wheel tightly to keep all his concentration on the road. If he damaged Kacchan's car because he was distracted by a crush, he'd never forgive himself.

At a red light, Izuku took a quick look at Kacchan, who was holding his side and forcing back a wince every time they drove over a bump. They had been sitting in silence for the drive, probably because Kacchan's lungs were killing him. Izuku cringed as the sound of Kacchan hitting the ground replayed in his mind. He was relieved that it looked surface level and he hadn't broken anything.

Despite the rough start and end to the night, Izuku was over the moon at how well the evening had gone. Kacchan had opened up a little about how he was worried about how Izuku would be perceived if he ever got caught. That, in Izuku's head, was one of the sweetest things he'd said to him. It meant Izuku was constantly on Kacchan's mind, and he cared about what would happen to him for being associated with a killer. As caring as it was, Izuku wasn't too bothered. He knew Kacchan was cautious and would never do anything too reckless to put either of them in danger.

If that’s not love… I don’t know what is, Izuku giggled to himself. Then he slapped his own face softly to knock some sense back. No. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Izuku.

 

There was another big revelation that Izuku had connected the dots with. Kacchan's first murder, which was in self-defence, ended with the death of Izuku's own father. Kacchan seemed a little mortified at the fact, but Izuku thought it was the coolest thing he'd ever done, which was saying something.

"Ugh…" groaned Kacchan. Izuku peered over at him in the passenger seat before staring straight ahead at the road.

"You alright, Kacchan?"

"This is gonna leave a wicked bruise," he murmured. "Fuck, it hurts, though. You're so lucky you can just do those stupid ass flips and still land properly, Deku."

Every time Kacchan said his name, it shot bolts of electricity down his spine and affected every nerve in his body. But tonight, something extraordinary had happened. Kacchan had called him by his first name.

 

“So, you want me to call you by your real name instead? Midoriya?”

“No!” Izuku cried. “No, no, not that.”

Kacchan hesitated. “Izuku, then?”

“…Deku is fine. I like how it sounds coming from you.”

Kacchan raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Ah– don’t worry about it.”

 

“ Izuku, then?”

Izuku, Izuku, IzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzukuIzuku

He kept looping the angelic sound of his name coming out of Kacchan’s mouth. It sounded so perfect. Like he was made to say his name.

Every sound Kacchan made was beautiful. Etched into his mind was the laughter that echoed through the night sky when he and Izuku saw that a flock of greedy birds had eaten the last of their katsudon. It was as warm as Kacchan's hand when Izuku gripped it for balance on the goalpost. Izuku held that piece of Kacchan, that soft, gentle and caring part that no one else saw or got to witness. That was his. And he'd treasure it forever.

 

When they finally pulled into Kacchan's neighbourhood, he piped up, "Hey, wanna stay over? It's a little late to go home."

"O-Oh! OK!" Izuku agreed immediately. "But, uh, my car's still at my work…"

"I'll drive us back out there in the morning, and we'll drive to school together."

"Ah– Makes sense! OK!" He was trying to remain calm outside, but he was bouncing off the walls in his brain.

 

I’m sleeping over at Kacchan’s house!!

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“So, Mom, what did you think of Kacchan?”

 

Izuku helped out in the kitchen the following day after dinner with Kacchan. They typically didn't eat breakfast, but Inko insisted.

"He's a lovely boy, Izuku," she answered warmly. "You've made a wonderful friend."

Izuku smiled, but he also had a little voice in his head that told him Kacchan had yet to refer to him as a friend. He didn't say it at the dinner, even when there was no need to keep up appearances. Was he really worried Izuku's mom was going to judge him? Or was something else holding him back?

"He's really great," Izuku sighed. "I'm so lucky to have him."

Inko plated the rice and eggs the two of them had made, hot steam rising from the dish. She handed one bowl to Izuku and grinned as he took a bite.

"Izuku, do you… like him?"

Izuku coughed and almost choked on his food. He looked at his mother with a wide-eyed stare.

"M-Mom!!" he cried. She shrugged.

"I'm just asking. You can say no if you don't." She innocently took a bite of her breakfast as Izuku's heart raced. It was pretty pointless to try and deny it.

"Is it that obvious…?" he muttered. Inko chuckled.

"I've seen a lot of people in love during my life, Izuku," she said. "I think Katsuki would have to be a fool not to see that you have feelings for him."

Kacchan knew that he wore his heart on his sleeve. He was good at reading Izuku already. And he had admitted that the two of them were close. He didn't like to get his hopes up, but maybe…

"Do you think he… might feel the same?"

Inko put down her chopsticks and clasped her hands together. "Well, I don't know him like you do, honey," she started. "But I can see that he is definitely fond of you."

"He has that type of personality where he hides who he is so people can't use his kindness against him. But it doesn't look like he wants to hide that kindness around you. I think he definitely cares deeply for you, Izuku. I can't say for sure if he might want something more. But don't take that as something negative."

 

Inko put her caring hands on Izuku's face, cupping his cheeks. "You and Katsuki have an equal friendship. It might flourish into something else, who knows. I can't give you false hope and say it will, but I will tell you that you're clearly important to him. Cherish your friendship first. Love is nothing if not with your best friend."

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Izuku held in his tears until he got back to his house. His mother was out at work, so he didn't feel bad letting out some of his frustration on the door. It slammed shut, and he threw himself onto his bed. When his head hit the soft blankets, that's when he allowed the wet droplets to flow out and stain the sheets.

Izuku took out his phone and looked at the chat between him and Kacchan. The last message he sent, asking if Kacchan wanted to hang out, hadn't even been read yet. What was Kacchan doing? Did he go home? Was he still at the park?

Did he feel sorry about what he'd done?

 

Izuku sat up in his bed, putting a hand to his forehead where he and Kacchan had touched. Even though he was still mad, he couldn't help how his stomach twisted in joy at the memory of being so close. Izuku had pulled him in closer, and Kacchan didn't try to move away. He had grabbed Izuku's hands, even taking off his gloves so the contact was skin to skin. Izuku remembered how cold Kacchan's palms had been, running his thumbs over them to warm them up. The slight groove of the faded scars across his skin was imprinted on his touch.

Izuku had even been brave enough to ask Kacchan if he wanted a hug. 

What he really wanted was to kiss him. He ached for the permission to lean forward and place his lips against Kacchan's, feel how their mouths would slot together and taste Kacchan so closely. But that was only one of Izuku's dreams. He knew Kacchan needed more time. So he settled on asking if he wanted a hug, but he didn't get a response. However, and maybe it was just Izuku's mind playing tricks on him, it looked like Kacchan was starting to lean in to accept the embrace, only pulling away when their friends showed up.

 

Izuku got up from his bed, frustrated. He didn't like how venomous he felt towards Kirishima, Kaminari and Mina. They hadn't done anything wrong. But his immediate response after Kacchan had tugged his hands away from Izuku's was anger. He was livid that they came and interrupted what could have been the most intimate moment he and Kacchan had shared. However, he had hidden it well, pushing it out of view as he tried to act natural. It wasn't gone, though. That anger was quickly redirected at someone else. Someone Izuku never thought he could get mad at.

Izuku couldn't figure out why Kacchan, someone who had just told him all about the lowest point of his life, someone who had shared such personal details and done all these friendly things, still refused to say they were friends. And it went beyond that this time. Not only did he immediately break apart from their embrace, but he hadn't even let Izuku take credit for the gift he made. A gift that Kacchan seemed to really love. So why had a flip switched and his behaviour changed so drastically?

Izuku sat down at his desk, flipping open the lid of his laptop. The welcoming screen made him blink a little. He needed to distract himself. He couldn't bear to think about Kacchan's hurtful reaction anymore. Izuku moved his mouse to open up the secure window, the one that would lead him to the site that had started this whole debacle.

I guess I’ll just have a look on the forum, he thought sadly. It’s been a while since I checked it out.

 

Scrolling through the new posts, Izuku found little that piqued his interest. A lot of it was repeated, things he had heard before. It seemed like no one was using the site for its intended purpose anymore. A lot of the crimes people had been confessing were minor inconveniences at most. With how uninteresting the posts were, it was no wonder Izuku's mind began to wander. He had calmed down a little, but the frustration was building inside him again.

At first, Izuku had always brushed off Kacchan's hesitance as a side effect of his brash personality. He rarely showed affection to others, so Izuku was no exception. There was a charm to his demeanour that Izuku had also fallen for. Kacchan meant what he said, and he said what he meant. Supposedly, there was no hidden side to him. But Izuku knew that there was because he had brought it out of him. His hands on the keyboard tensed up.

I'm the key to him keeping his humanity. If he can admit something as personal as that, why can't he do the simple act of telling people we're friends?! 

Izuku had been there for Kacchan when he needed someone to rely on. And he wasn't going to stop now, even after a row like this. It probably didn't help that Izuku was still madly in love with him. But he didn't need to hear mutual feelings if the time wasn't right. All Izuku wanted was to be acknowledged. He wanted to be equals in their friendship.

I'm happy to keep my emotions to myself. Maybe he was just emotional, and that's why he got so close. He might not think of me that way, and that's fine. Izuku recalled his mother's words. He could be happy with their friendship. Expressing his deeper feelings might ruin everything. So, if he could only have a platonic connection with Kacchan, he'd be content with that.

I'm not expecting Kacchan to love me back, and I'll take my true feelings to the grave if I have to. I can bury my affection, but I won't ignore our friendship. I can't not notice how he refuses to say we're close. There's no way we aren't. 

Izuku's fingers were starting to cramp up from scrolling repeatedly. He hadn't even really been paying attention to the screen. He was zoning out, contemplating everything he and Kacchan had been through and what that meant for them in the future. 

His actions don't match his words, and it's so disheartening. I know he's traumatised from everything he's been through and struggles with expressing himself, but that isn't an excuse to treat me like I'm not special to him when I clearly am.

Izuku shook his head. If the goal had been to distract himself, he had failed miserably. He had scrolled through dozens of posts by now and hadn't been able to stop thinking about Kacchan. Might as well do something else. He was about to close the tab when something at the bottom of the page caught his eye. Izuku clicked on it to read it in full.

 

The anonymous poster had written a series of long paragraphs, formatted to be like an article, documenting their research into the forum. This was not a supporter, but an opposer. The post was typed out very aggressively, labelling all its users as accomplices to the various crimes and blaming them for directly engaging in such a despicable act. Izuku rolled his eyes. Someone who didn't know what good had come of the site. Kacchan had removed so many harmful people from the world. People who didn't help or uplift others at all. They had no idea what they were talking about.

The post continued. The author had gone on to explain that they knew there was someone who used the website to track down victims, and how they knew it was a rumour that populated the posts. They said that they believed that this rumour was true, and they could prove it. By observing the pattern of victims, they had discovered that there was one place in Hase that seemed to be targeted more than others– the poorest part of the slums, where criminals were exiled after they were ostracised for their heinous deeds.

Izuku's heart dropped. The user smugly stated at the end of their post that they had been gathering proof for a few months now and were close to getting a complete picture of the killer that they could use to identify them. The last line said that as soon as this murderer went down, those who had egged them on would be soon to follow. The comments were a warzone, with hundreds of threats saying that snitching like this was going to end with the poster's throat slit. Izuku was trembling as he read and re-read the post. 

Was it fake? It had to be. Because if it weren't, that meant that Kacchan was in trouble. He was in danger of being discovered, and if Izuku didn't do anything, he risked letting his dearest friend be captured.

 

Izuku hastily got to work deciphering the poster's IP address. He was shocked at how easily he was able to break through the encryption. On his own device, and even now on Kacchan's since he'd been asked to help, he always made sure their location was hidden and their information was secure. However, the author of the posts must not have had as much experience as Izuku did because it took him less than 10 minutes to enter their computer remotely.

Now that Izuku had access to the user's desktop, he had limited time to find out who they were and what evidence they had. The first thing he began searching for was the so-called proof they had. It took a few minutes of scouring through files, but he managed to find a bunch of images in a folder labelled 'Story_142'.

It must be a journalist . Izuku flicked through the photos, eyes widening in fear when he realised what they had captured. Some of them were from a few years ago and had only been of a hooded figure with no discernible features, as the camera had only managed to grab small parts of the person. An arm, a leg, or the back of a head. None were enough to piece together a profile. They were blurry and dark, but Izuku could tell they were taken from the deteriorating buildings of Hase's poorest slums. It had been what he had anticipated. Someone had been spending multiple years in the shadows trying to catch the rumoured serial killer that lurked on the dark site.

 

There were a few more recent photos, and these made Izuku's heart race rapidly. There were more snapshots of a figure at night, but Kacchan's form was much more visible in these ones. His face couldn't be seen, but the photo had a clearer grasp of his outline. Izuku knew from his deep interest in criminal psychology that being unable to see someone's face wasn't a dealbreaker when it came to pinning down a killer. Technology existed that could identify someone using their height, their clothing, and their behaviours. 

Panic began to set in. Izuku realised that these photos must have been taken on the first night Kacchan invited him out, and it started to crush him. Immense blame fell on his shoulders. Izuku was the one who had begged to be a witness. It was his fault, and he wasn't even the one in the shot. If it weren't for him, Kacchan would have been able to be much more cautious. And now he might be getting arrested because of Izuku. 

A quiet beep on his laptop indicated that Izuku was almost out of time before his intrusion would be noticed by the computer's owner. So, with the last of the time he had left in his infiltration, he began running the program that would find the exact location of the device. The same method he had once used to track down Kacchan.

While he waited for the program to complete, Izuku tried to keep his breathing steady. He wasn't sure what to do. Should he contact Kacchan? He knew the boy had a rule against killing people who weren't directly involved. But it wasn't like it was a rule he'd put into practice. Izuku was the first person to discover his identity. And even then, Kacchan had threatened him immediately after he found him. Maybe being faced with an actual adversary would convince Kacchan to change his mind.

Izuku switched back to the site and read the ominous comments on the post. A lot of them were vicious death threats against the poster who was planning to blow the whistle on them. He couldn't help but frown at their foolishness. Each one of them was probably going to be tracked down by the journalist and collected as an accomplice. They were directly getting involved by engaging.

But then, Izuku paused. The program made a cheerful noise, indicating that the location of the computer had been found. And the dozens of threats in the comments had given him an idea.

Izuku's every step filled his mind with white static. He was following the path he'd memorised—a path he'd scouted out prior that led to the journalist's house. It was early morning, and the air was below freezing. In his head, he relayed every piece of information Kacchan had taught him about killing someone.

 

Izuku was dressed in dark attire, covering every part of his skin except the spots around his eyes. He didn't have strong gloves like Kacchan, so he had settled for a woollen pair that helped keep his trembling hands warm. Izuku had picked out clothes that clung to his skin the most so nothing would get caught on anything. He tugged his hood further over his eyes and turned down onto the street he had targeted.

When he found the journalist's apartment, he hid behind a large oak tree in a park opposite the street. There were balconies, so the walls weren't going to be hard to climb, but the real problem was the pair of security cameras. Izuku noticed them when he looked up the apartment block on a virtual map and then searched for the exact model to find their field of vision. He was safe on this side of the street, but he needed to get rid of them before he attempted to break in. Luckily, Izuku had planned for that. Under his bed was a slingshot he had stashed away over a decade ago, hiding it from his mother to stop it from getting confiscated. He had brought the childhood toy with him, ready to use to disable the cameras.

Izuku searched the ground for a rock big enough to either knock the camera off balance or shatter its lenses. The first one he found was a promising size, so he took aim, pulled it back, and shot it off. The rock clacked against the brick wall, a couple of inches below the camera.

Aim higher, he ordered himself. The second rock was a similar size, but a little lighter. Too high, and it would fly right over the roof. Izuku lined up the trajectory, paused, and then let go. This shot was a success, and the glass of the camera shattered upon impact. It wasn't too loud, either, but he still waited to see if anyone would wake up and see the damage. Five minutes passed, and he was in the clear.

Izuku adjusted his position, ready to fire at the other camera. The rock he picked up was heavy and sturdy, so it could likely break the entire stand if he aimed correctly. Directing his shot, he made sure his aim took the weight of the rock into account before firing. Izuku got lucky with another direct hit, completely breaking the camera off where it had been placed on the wall. He clenched his fist in victory and broke out of the bushes, ready to scale the wall into the house.

 

Once Izuku was inside, he took in his surroundings. The window he'd climbed into led to the bathroom. Not the worst place he could have ended up. He jammed the window open so he'd have a quick escape. Then, he tiptoed through the empty halls, listening and following the faint sound of a man's snoring. The apartment was small and messy, and it looked like two people lived in the space. Izuku could only hear one person, so maybe the other inhabitant was out. He found the main bedroom and opened the door slowly. There, in the darkness, lay the journalist who was threatening Kacchan's safety. Izuku's blood boiled at the sight of him. He didn't care that it was immoral. He didn't care that he was doing something evil by killing an innocent man. Because the only thing Izuku cared about in the world was Kacchan. And anyone or anything who posed a danger to Kacchan had to be eliminated.

Izuku wondered exactly how Kacchan felt when he killed someone. He knew he felt a sense of elation, followed by immediate regret and repulsion. But when Izuku took out his sharp knife and slit the journalist's throat, he didn't feel anything but relief. Relief that Kacchan was now going to be OK. Maybe something would come up that Izuku hadn't thought of, and he'd end up taking the fall. But that was OK. Kacchan would be safe, and that was all that mattered. Izuku still would rather not get caught. Because he wanted the chance to prove to Kacchan that he truly would do anything for him.

 

After the last flash of life left the squirming journalist's body, Izuku stepped away from his corpse and turned towards the computer. When he pressed on the keyboard, he saw that it wasn't even locked– it had just gone into sleep mode. He smirked behind his mask. That definitely made his life easier.

Izuku was good with a computer; that was something most people who knew him were aware of. But as good as he was with fixing, he was as good at destroying. He located the files that incriminated Kacchan and corrupted them beyond recovery. No way anyone could use them as evidence now. He made sure they couldn't be reversed, and then, for good measure, Izuku pulled off the glass screen of the computer and yanked out a few parts. The monitor shut off with an abrupt buzz, and a few sparks came out when Izuku continued to wreck the motherboard. 

Satisfied with his work, Izuku stood up and walked out of the bedroom. It was time to go home and get some rest, especially as he had school tomorrow. Maybe Kacchan was ready to apologise. And Izuku would proudly tell him that he accepted his apology and had done his part to protect Kacchan. Then, he'd definitely have to realise how much Izuku cared for him and accept him as a true friend. He got butterflies just from thinking about it.

Izuku was about halfway back to the bathroom when he heard footsteps at the front door. He stiffened and darted down the hall, shutting the door behind him as he heard the front one open. 

Crap. I've gotta get out. The person, a woman, was talking to someone quietly on the phone. Izuku felt his heart slamming against his sternum as he pulled himself through the open window. Just as he was almost out, the window, which he thought he had permanently forced open, fell shut onto his fingers. He bit back a cry of pain, pulling his hand out of the window. Izuku jumped down, feeling the ferocious wind on his face as he retreated to the bushes, trying to calm his beating heart.

OK. It's all good. I did everything I–

 

Izuku froze when he looked at his hand. He hadn't realised, but when he yanked his hand out of the window, the material of his glove had gotten caught on it as well. So now, a large chunk of his glove was torn off, and almost all of his fingers were bare.

Shit. This was really bad. That piece of his glove could easily be used as DNA evidence. Izuku turned around back at the window and carefully snuck over to the side of the street he had just come from. It was hard to tell from the angle he was at, but it didn't look like the part that had ripped off was still stuck between the ledge. Maybe it had gotten caught in a gust and fell into the apartment's surrounding garden. Izuku might be able to retrieve it before–

 

A bloodcurdling scream pierced the night sky, stopping Izuku dead in his tracks. It was definitely the woman he had seen, discovering the body of the journalist. Izuku didn't have time to stick around. If a bystander, or worse, a cop, saw him, it would all be over. He turned around and bolted, leaving his bloody scene behind him.

As he ran, Izuku began to stress. He had tried to be so careful and meticulous with his planning. He had pictured Kacchan and how cautious he was with his crimes. But all it took was one mistake to throw Izuku off his balance, and now he was running away and leaving potential evidence. He could only pray that the wind had blown the torn piece of glove away from the building. Because if anyone were to find it, Izuku knew he was doomed.

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The harsh sound of Katsuki's alarm clock rudely interrupted his sleep. Rolling over and pushing away his sheets, he slammed his fist on top of the irritating machine to silence it. Katsuki sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. He reached out to his bedside table for his phone and squinted at the bright screen. There were a few messages from his friends, but he ignored them, scrolling to see if he had gotten any from one person in particular. But there was nothing. Katsuki cursed and threw his phone across the room, not caring for the loud crack it made when it bounced off the wall.

 

It had been a while since he and Deku had gone more than a full day without talking. And Katsuki was feeling awful. He had spent the entire previous day moping around his room, trying to figure out how he was going to make it up to Deku for being an asshole. He had lashed out unfairly because his emotions got the better of him. But that wasn't an excuse. Obviously, a simple apology wasn't going to be enough. He had to actually put in some more effort and act vulnerable to show he was seriously remorseful. Deku deserved to know how much he meant to Katsuki, and he was prepared to bruise his hubris a little if it meant he could earn Deku's forgiveness.

 

Katsuki threw the blankets off him and let his feet hit the carpet. He walked over to where he had thrown his phone in anger, regretting it a little when he saw there was now a thin crack on the corner of his screen. Luckily, there was no dent in the wall. Katsuki sighed and grabbed his uniform from the back of his chair, groggily walking out into his hallway towards the bathroom. He needed a blazing hot shower to wake him up.

 

After drying off from the boiling water and changing into his uniform, Katsuki grabbed his backpack from his room. He was about to leave when he saw the bracelet Deku had gifted him on the table, where he'd left it the previous night. It pained him to look at and brought back the terrible memory of unfairly snapping at Deku, but he wanted some way to feel close to him. So he grabbed the bracelet, clipped it around his wrist and went downstairs, ready to walk out the front door and head off. When he stopped in the kitchen, Katsuki could hear the TV from the lounge room. His parents were sitting on the couch, sipping on their matching mugs. Typically, Katsuki didn't give a shit about what was on the news that morning. But today, there was one story that his ears caught and piqued his interest. Katsuki took an apple from the fruit basket and leaned against the kitchen counter, turning into the report.

 

“...a very well respected journalist was found dead in his own house last night in what seems to be a case of breaking and entering. The young man’s room was found in a state of wreckage by his partner, returning home after a night shift. Allegedly, he had been working on a big investigation related to dark websites that encouraged the murders of several Hase civilians, and…”

 

"Katsuki!" Mitsuki suddenly snapped. "What the hell are you gawking at? Get out of here before you're late for school!"

Breaking out of his trance, Katsuki blinked and darted out of his house, heading straight for his car and jumping in. Once he was locked in, he allowed himself to tremble. Had he heard that reporter correctly?

Katsuki pulled his phone out and looked up the news article related to the story he'd just watched. It was a recent report detailing the same situation he'd watched on the TV. A highly prolific journalist had been stabbed in his own home the previous night, and he was supposedly investigating the forums that were using the site to encourage murder. Katsuki gulped and felt his head begin to throb. This was not good. Breathing heavily, Katsuki opened a new tab on his phone. Previously, he'd never dared to check the site on his phone- it was too dangerous and a lot easier to be traced back to him than on his computer, which he had layers of protection installed on; a few new ones had been added with Deku's help. But now, with the breaking news, there would be a lot more site traffic and people looking up the URL, so he'd blend right in. With shaking hands, Katsuki punched in the website letter by letter before clicking enter. An error message popped up, and Katsuki felt his stomach drop.

The forum had been permanently taken down.

 

Katsuki's friends quickly noticed that he was not himself as he slowly took his seat in the homeroom. Kaminari and Kirishima, who had been chatting happily, turned to address Katsuki in their usual banter. But their cheerful faces fell into concern when they saw how anxious Katsuki looked.

"Whoa, dude, did you get any sleep last night?" Kirishima asked, leaning over his desk. "You look stressed."

Katsuki jumped a little at his tone. Every noise was too loud, each movement he saw out of the corners of his eye too quick. He was on edge in a way he'd never been before.

Kaminari frowned and then made a face at Kirishima. "You sure this is Bakugou? He isn't acting like he's annoyed by us caring about him." He poked Katsuki in the shoulder, jerking back in anticipation of getting yelled at. But Katsuki still stared at his desk.

"Bakugou, are you OK?" Kirishima got out of his seat and kneeled beside Katsuki's table, trying to make eye contact. "You've kind of been acting weird for a while, man. Did something happen on the weekend? Is that why you yelled at us when you were with Midoriya?"

Deku. Yes, it did have something to do with him. But not for the reason Kirishima thought. Katsuki needed to say sorry. He'd been intending to do it for the last day, just struggling to find the words to properly articulate his apology. And he'd been wanting to do it in person. Texting wasn't going to be good enough. So, ignoring Kirishima, he pulled out his phone and started forming a message to Deku.

[YOU] - 08:07

hey deku

 

can we talk?

 

I have some shit i really want to say to you

"Bakugou?"

Ever the patient friend, Kirishima was still by his side, waiting for a response. Katsuki put down his phone and turned to the red-eyed boy, trying hard not to look too vulnerable.

"Just… some shit going on between me and Deku," he said, forcing himself to keep it vague. "Don't worry about it too much. Let me figure it out on my own."

Kirishima's eyes widened at his words, clearly shocked at how much Katsuki had told him without resistance. He would have normally said nothing, so despite how unclear this short explanation was, it was still miles beyond anything Katsuki had ever given him before.

"Ah– Alright!" Kirishima stood up, nodding contently. "Well, I hope you two get it all sorted." He returned to his own seat, leaving Katsuki to his own devices. Kaminari, on his other side, was equally stunned but didn't say anything. Katsuki waited for a bit, staring off into space, before he picked up his phone to see if Deku had responded. However, there was nothing. That was strange because unless he was asleep, Deku typically answered immediately. Even if he was supposed to be at work or in class, Katsuki never had to wait more than a few minutes for a response. But it had been close to five minutes now, the longest it had ever taken for Deku to text back.

 

Is he ignoring me? That seemed a little uncharacteristic. Even if they fought, Katsuki knew Deku was the type of person to hear someone out and give them another chance. Surely, he was waiting to hear an apology from Katsuki. It didn't make sense for him to be avoidant.

"Excuse me…"

Katsuki looked up at a tap at the door and heard a familiar voice. Speak of the goddamn devil. Deku was in the doorframe, clutching his yellow backpack with one hand and a large textbook with the other. He looked like he hadn't gotten any rest at all, if his deep eyebags and droopy eyebrows indicated anything. He was also trembling like a leaf, looking like the slightest jab might cause him to shatter. Deku hastily walked over to Kirishima, placing the book on his desk.

"Thanks for letting me borrow this for my exams, Kirishima," Deku said in a hushed tone. His voice sounded strained, like he was hiding a mountain of worry. "Sorry I haven't returned it sooner."

Kirishima flashed a genuine smile at the underclassman. "No worries, man! Advanced math is super tough, but I bet you did great!"

Deku nodded slightly, not looking proud even after receiving praise. Katsuki's carmine eyes burned into the younger boy, but he didn't glance over at him once. After returning the book to Kirishima, he quickly shuffled out of the classroom, joining the bustling hallways full of students.

 

Katsuki frowned. Now, it definitely seemed like Deku was ignoring him. It wasn't like him to stay completely at arm's length from Katsuki. He knew Deku liked to face things head-on and confront them, something he shared with Katsuki. Was Deku not the one who had reached out to Katsuki first, inserting him into his life when they were only strangers? Had Deku not been the one to call Katsuki out and force him to realise that he was an ally, not a threat to his double life? And did Deku recall how he had so proudly affirmed his acceptance for Katsuki, despite all the murderous crimes he was well aware he had committed?

Suddenly, something clicked. Katsuki's mind began falling into place, piecing together the details of all that had happened over the last 24 hours. The victim from the morning had been investigating the forum. Katsuki and Deku were people who he knew for certain frequented the site. It wasn't unreasonable to assume the younger boy found out some information that the journalist knew and felt driven to take action. Deku looked terrible, stressed out of his mind and like he hadn't gotten a lick of sleep. He refused to make eye contact, avoiding it like he was ashamed. Deku had never hidden anything from him, so why now? Katsuki's hands curled into fists. There was no way. It couldn't be true… but it wasn't impossible.

Had Deku done something?

 

Katsuki pushed out from his chair. There were only a few minutes before the first bell rang, so he had to confront Deku quickly. He left his homeroom, pushing through the busy halls as the last groups of students ran to avoid being truant. Katsuki knew exactly where Deku would be. He marched right down the stairs to the second floor, bursting into Deku's homeroom. All the student's heads whipped towards the door, jaws dropping when they saw who had entered their class. Deku looked up too, but he looked the most terrified of them all.

Katsuki stormed over to Deku's desk by the window, and the smaller boy's hands twitched nervously. His mouth was sealed shut, like he might blurt something out that he didn't want to if he dared speak. Katsuki knew he couldn't say what he wanted to freely with all the people in the room. So he put one hand on Deku's desk and leaned into his ear, brushing his lips past the unkempt curls of his hair. He lowered his voice to a hushed whisper, ensuring no one but Deku would catch his words.

 

"Be in my room by midnight. We need to have a talk."

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Katsuki was pacing back and forth in his room. It was almost 12, and Deku had yet to show up. The green-haired boy had been at the centre stage of all his thoughts. The more Katsuki had been left to stew on it, the more it made sense. Of course Deku would do something impulsive like that. He was probably doing it for some dumb noble reason, like to make sure the sanctity of the site remained untouched by outsiders. Well, look how that had turned out. Katsuki had tried accessing the forum again on his computer when he got home, but the same error message popped up. There was no doubt; it was gone for good now.

A light knock at his window broke Katsuki out of his repetitive walk. Deku was there, wearing a grey hoodie and a scarf. Katsuki narrowed his eyes. It was the coldest month of the year, and that was all he had worn? He didn't even zip it up. Katsuki opened the window, letting Deku climb through and stand in his room. He shut it quietly, taking a deep breath before turning around and facing Deku. They hadn't spoken since Katsuki blew him off in front of their friends two days ago. But that argument was irrelevant now. 

 

"When you speak, keep your voice down," Katsuki started, making sure his voice sounded authoritative. "I'm sure both you and I don't want to explain to my parents what you're doing here."

Deku nodded in acknowledgement, still looking unsettled. It was an expression Katsuki hadn't seen on his face before. He made sure it didn't distract him from the topic at hand.

"So… um… what did you want to talk about?" Deku was looking everywhere but Katsuki's face, twiddling with his fingers. Sweat was pooling up on his forehead and began to trickle down to his neck, dampening his shirt collar. His feigning ignorance ticked Katsuki off and made his temper immediately flare up.

"Don't fucking play dumb with me, Deku," he hissed. "I saw the fucking news. Someone was killed after investigating that forum. We're some of the only people who know about it and use it. You've been ignoring all my messages. And you've been twitchy all fuckin' day. So tell me–" He jabbed an accusatory finger into Deku's sternum. "What the hell did you do?"

Deku tremored. His wide eyes swam in apprehension, and his mouth opened and closed like a stunned fish.

"Were you behind it?" Katsuki demanded. "Did you have help? Or did you– Did you… kill him yourself?"

Deku hesitated, staring at the floor. Katsuki felt his heart race and his fury build.

"Deku, fucking answer me." He firmly gripped the shaking boy's shoulders. "Did you kill him?"

After staying silent for a few agonising seconds, Katsuki heard a frail breath escape Deku's mouth. He tilted his head up, biting his lip to try and hold in his tears, and nodded slightly.

Katsuki erupted with the split-second suddenness of a pin being yanked from a grenade. It took everything in him to resist slapping Deku for doing something so asinine. 

Deku had killed someone. Deku. The person he assumed wouldn't even hurt an insect. Katsuki couldn't even picture it. The image of Deku, gripping a gleaming knife and leaving the scene covered in blood. What had he felt when he took the man's life? What type of expression had he made? What was he feeling now? And–

 

"Why?!" exploded Katsuki. His voice, deadly serious but still low enough not to alert his parents, struck a nerve in the younger boy. Every muscle in his body tightened, and he looked like he might snap in half.

At no response, Katsuki got even more enraged. "Why?! What the hell were you thinking? Are you that reckless? Haven't you learned anything from watching me? Why would you go after someone like him?"

Deku's lower lip trembled. "Kacchan… did you read the full news report? Do you really not know why I did it?"

Narrowing his eyes, Katsuki scowled. "What? He was looking into the forum. That's the reason you–"

"No," interrupted Deku. "He was looking into our forum, but he wasn't just investigating that. He was researching the person who had been reading the posts and carrying out the requests. He was investigating you. And he had gotten unbelievably close to discovering who you were, Kacchan." A glint appeared in his opal eyes. "B-But don't worry! While I was there, I-I destroyed all the evidence he collected beyond repair! So… you're safe! You don't have to worry about getting caught!"

 

Shocked, Katsuki released Deku and stepped back. He didn't know that the journalist had evidence on him specifically. But the fact that Deku knew this and hadn't told him about it before acting made his blood boil.

"For God's sake," he growled. "If that's the reason, then why was your first instinct to kill the fucker and not talk to me about it first??"

Deku fidgeted with his hands and shifted on his feet. "Well… I was… kind of upset with you from the other day…"

Despite his anger, Katsuki couldn't help but feel a pinch of guilt that lingered from that day. He had definitely been in the wrong, but his outrage was clouding his vision, and he didn't want to give Deku any leverage now.

"I think that sort of conversation transcends any fight we could have," Katsuki replied dangerously.

Deku sniffed. He was on the brink of sobbing, but he was doing his best to hold it together. "I just- I wanted to show you that I care for you!" he blurted out. "I've always been on your side. I've hidden stuff and covered for you, and I was happy to do it because you're important to me! But I didn't know what else I had to do to prove I'd do anything for you!"

Typical Deku had failed to keep his tears in. They were spilling out of his eyes like giant dew drops. His sleeves were getting damp from all the wiping of his face he was doing. Katsuki stood opposite him, clenching his fists and trying to process everything he'd just been told. Deku had killed someone for Katsuki's sake. Exactly what he had been wanting to stop.

"Prove something?" he echoed. "You think you have to prove yourself so badly you go and kill someone on my behalf?

"I don't know!" Deku exclaimed. "I have no idea how to read you, Kacchan! You act like you care about me around other people, take me to do all these nice things, and obviously have an interest in being closer to me than you admit. But you won't even acknowledge that we're friends!"

"I- Yes, I do–" Katsuki didn't even have the dignity to pretend. He was lying through his teeth, and he knew it. Deku did too, and his anguished face became more wet with tears.

 

" No!" he cried. "You have never once called me a friend to anyone else! When we're alone you do it, but you've never said it to anyone!! I'm always just a classmate, or an underclassman, or someone who you 'hang out' with. Why, Kacchan? Why can't you say the word 'friend'?? What on earth could possibly be stopping you?!"

Katsuki gritted his teeth. "You think that was the right thing to do? You killed the bastard because I won't fucking say we're friends?"

Deku made a frustrated noise, halfway between a groan and a sob. "No! That's not the reason! I did it to protect you because I know we are friends! But I don't know why you refuse to admit it to anyone but me! What do I have to do? How can I prove that no one understands you more than I do?"

"You do not have to prove it like that –"

"Clearly, I do!" Deku wrapped his hands around his chest and sobbed. "You barely tell your parents I exist, you can't tell my mom we're more than classmates, and you can't say that we're close in front of any of your friends!"

"They're our friends," Katsuki seethed. "You've become close with them because I wanted you to have more people in your circle. I've told you everything about my past and why I am the way I am. Fuck, I don't… act the way I do around others because I don't have to put on my mask around you. Is that not proof enough that we are friends, Deku?"

Deku was on the brink of hyperventilating, so he took a few seconds to collect his breath. Katsuki had never seen the boy in such a state, frantic and breaking down under his heavy emotions. The thing was, Katsuki's emotions were just as, if not more intense, but he had been better conditioned to hide them. If not for how he was raised, he might have been in the exact same state as Deku.

 

"Yes… Kacchan, they're my friends now, too, and of course I'm grateful for them." His soft voice was breaking. "But I have a mask that I put on around them as well. I've never worn it around you! We're the same! That's why it hurts when you keep it a secret. I don't feel like I'm in the wrong for being upset that you can't publicly admit we have a relationship, Kacchan."

The tone of Deku's voice made Katsuki's throat close up. No, it was that thing he was referring to him by that was pissing him off.

 

"Fuck." Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. "Stop calling me that."

"W-What…?"

"Don't use that stupid- Call me by my real name when we're fucking talking about this."

Deku stared at him with a pained expression through his thick hair, sticking to his forehead from the humidity that had worked up in the room. He inhaled sharply.

"…Bakugou."

Katsuki felt like he had just been stabbed. It was a harrowing feeling, like someone had taken his heart into their fist and literally squeezed the life out of him. The sound of Deku calling Katsuki by his surname was physically painful.

"NO," he retaliated . "Not that, fuck, no."

Deku avoided his harsh red eyes. "...What do you want me to call you?"

"My name, Deku. I want to hear you call me Katsuki."

Deku's pupils shrunk. "Kacchan–"

"Wrong," he urged. "Say it, Izuku."

A visible shudder crept up Deku's body. "Don't– Don't say my name like that…"

"Say mine."

"No," Deku argued firmly. "Why should I? We're clearly not close enough for you to call me your friend, so why should I be allowed to call you by your name? It wouldn't be the right thing to do. "

 

Ignoring the hostile jab, Katsuki took a step closer to Deku, using his height to loom over and intimidate the younger boy. But he stood tall, not backing down, causing irritation to creep into Katsuki's veins.

"You can't take this back, Deku," Katsuki said in a low tone. "You realise that, don't you?"

Deku actually rolled his eyes at that, which made Katsuki even more furious. "Do you think I'm an idiot? I know what I did. And I'm glad I did it. Because now you're safe. That's all I care about."

Katsuki scowled, spitting out his words through gritted teeth. "I don't need your fucking protection. I told you that if I get caught, it's of my own volition."

Deku's blown-out eyes darted jarringly across Katsuki's face, searching for something he could grab onto and appeal to him with. But there was nothing.

"Kacchan, I–" Deku swallowed a sob. "I know you have that rule for yourself. But I-I couldn't let you get discovered. Because then I'd lose you, and then I–" His voice got caught in his throat, cutting him off. Without a shred of empathy, Katsuki decided to rub salt in an already gaping wound.

"What about your bullshit holier-than-thou act of admiring me because I've only killed people who had done fucked up things?" Katsuki snapped. "You just went and shot down everything you stood for."

Taking a weak breath, Deku stared into Katsuki's eyes. "Then I'm a hypocrite. Doesn't matter. I need you, Kacchan. It's only because I was insistent to watch that you got caught in the first place!"

"What do you have to do with it?"

"The photos that I destroyed were taken on the first day you invited me to watch you commit murder," explained Deku, rubbing tears from his eyes. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been there, and the photos wouldn't exist. I had to do it. You need me to–"

That set Katsuki off. He shoved Deku forcefully, pushing him away from his personal space. Deku stumbled back, but he didn't trip. When he regained his balance, he planted his feet firmly on the ground.

"I don't need you!" barked Katsuki. "And I don't need you poking around in my business! You should've just kept to yourself, Deku!"

"I don't care if you didn't need it!" Deku retorted. "If I didn't do it, you would have ended up in jail, or worse! Kacchan, why do you seem so driven to want to kill yourself rather than accept help?"

Those words sounded familiar. Katsuki had uttered the exact same sentence to Deku before. He fumed at his words being thrown back at him again.

"I just–" Deku began hiccuping through his sentences. "I– You know I- I care about you, K-Kacchan, an- and I just, I want to keep you s-safe," he blubbed. "I- I don't know w-what I'd do if you were gone. I- I think I'd… go c-crazy… I need you a-around. Yo-you're so special to me… Kacchan…”

Katsuki could barely understand Deku through his stuttering and hysterical crying. Tears continued to streak down his face, and his entire face had dyed deep red. All the details of Deku's features that Katsuki had memorised began to look unhinged. His green eyes were too big and all-knowing, his fidgeting was sporadic and unsettling, his hair was matted with sweat, and his voice didn't have that saccharine tone to it anymore. It sounded crazed. Did Deku always sound like that, and was the lens that Katsuki saw him through too rose-tinted for him to notice?

"You're creepin' me out, Deku," warned Katsuki. "You think it's healthy to think all these possessive things about me?"

"Kacchan," Deku wept meekly. "You– I– I can't–"

"... You're not making any sense." Some of Katsuki's anger had subsided. He could see that Deku wasn't a threat right now. "I'm gonna take you home."

“No, no, nonono,” gasped Deku. "You– I've gotta tell– I–"

Katsuki had taken a step towards Deku, but he stopped at the sight of the snivelling boy, holding onto his chest as he wheezed, struggling to take in air. He was on the verge of a panic attack.

"Oi, Deku, you need to breathe," Katsuki instructed. "Fuck, can you just calm down–"

"Kacchan, I– I love you!" Deku suddenly blurted out.

Katsuki stopped dead in his tracks. He blinked once, twice. Love? Had he heard that correctly?

"The fuck did you just say?" he asked, startled. Deku sniffed harshly, stifling another sob.

"Kacchan, I'm in love with you," he admitted. "I– I don't need you to feel the same. But maybe you don't… fully understand why I'd do all this for you. It's because I love you. I'd do anything for you. And I want you to be safe, even at the expense of me."

Katsuki was still frozen. He didn't know how to respond. The fury that had been quelled returned rapidly. He hated hearing Deku's shaky voice confess to loving him.

There was no way Deku actually loved him. It wasn't possible. Katsuki didn't have the capability to be loved. He was a selfish, deplorable person who didn't deserve to be seen in any other light but a negative one. No positive traits that Deku was clinging to could overlook all his sins. So when Katsuki finally looked into Deku's yearning green eyes and saw pure affection, something dark rose to the surface.

 

"You don't love me," Katsuki rebutted harshly. "You're sick in the head. You're mistaking your twisted admiration with love."

Deku flinched. "I— no… I'm not…"

"Yes, you are. You don't love me. You love what I do , Deku."

He shook his head vigorously. "No, Kacchan, I–I promise, I've been in love with you for–"

Katsuki pointed at the window. "Get out."

"...W-What?"

"Did I fucking stutter?" he shot back. "Get. Out. Get the fuck out of my room, you goddamn freak."

Deku looked like his heart had just been smashed into a million pieces. He tiptoed around Katsuki, waiting to see if maybe he would change his mind. But that permanent glare stayed locked onto his face as Deku climbed out of the window, reaching for the tree. When he had fully steadied himself on a branch, he turned around to get one final glance at Katsuki, who only slammed the window closed and furiously pulled the blinds shut.

 

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

The following morning, Katsuki woke up angrier than he had felt the prior night. A burrowing rage was planted in his soul, and every step he took out of his bed engulfed his nerves in flames. He had tossed and turned all night thinking about what Deku had told him. No matter how much he tried, his eyes refused to stay shut. Katsuki spent endless sleepless hours burning holes in the ceiling. Deku's desperate words were branded into his brain.

"Kacchan, I– I love you!"

 

The memory made him clench his hands into angry fists. Katsuki robotically got ready for school as the words reverberated in his head, echoing over and over. How Deku's voice had broken a little at the end. His forlorn eyes that begged for Katsuki's reciprocation. And how Katsuki had cruelly rejected him and ordered him away without any trace of compassion.

"Katsuki, were you on the phone last night?" Masaru was in the kitchen when Katsuki walked down, gripping his backpack with such force he feared he might break it. He turned his head to address his father, a rude frown already plastered on his face.

"I'm only asking because we could hear you from our room," he continued. "Just make sure to keep it down a little next time, alright?"

Katsuki knew he was being reasonable. It was a harmless request. Nothing, really. Just asking Katsuki to be quiet when they were trying to sleep. But being talked to in such a kind way made Katsuki angrier. He was already struggling to keep his temper at bay, and his head was killing him. So Katsuki scoffed curtly and headed to the door.

"I'll speak how I want to, old man." He didn't hear his father's surprised response over the sound of him slamming the front door shut.

At school, his attitude didn't change. If anything, being around so many more people made it worse. The pounding in his head didn't subside, and every breath he took felt like his lungs were going to implode. Katsuki sat down at his homeroom seat, putting his hands in his hair and tugging. Everything was wrong. He was still feeling unnatural levels of rage. And whoever spoke to him next was going to be on the receiving end of a very pissed off Katsuki.

"Kacchan!"

Katsuki froze at the sound of Deku's nickname coming from someone else's mouth. Very slowly, he turned to see Kaminari, Kirishima, and Mina coming into the classroom, with punchable broad smiles on their faces. He continued to glare, even as they approached with concern in their eyes.

 

"...The fuck do you idiots want?" Katsuki growled. His three friends looked at each other, bewildered at his hostile tone.

"Um, just wanted to check that you were alright, man," Kirishima said, keeping calm.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Fuckin' peachy."

Mina kneeled down and crossed her arms on Katsuki's desk. "Come on, Kat, talk to us. Ei told me that something's been going on, and I've been worried about you since you shouted at us on Saturday. That isn't really like you. So can you just talk to us? If there's beef between you and Midoriya, then–"

Katsuki slammed his fist down onto the table. "Don't mention that little twerp around me."

Taken aback, Mina glanced up at the boys above her. "I told you. We can't get ahold of Midoriya either. Something's definitely wrong."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not right fucking here," hissed Katsuki. Mina sighed and stood up in front of him. Now he was surrounded, with Kaminari and Kirishima on his left and right too.

"We're just worried about you, dude," urged Kirishima. "We're your friends."

"You can take that worry and wipe your ass with it because I don't need you annoying bastards checking up on me every two fucking seconds!" he barked.

"Hey, come on." Kaminari tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked it away. "We care about you, Bakugou. We just want to get to the bottom of what's bothering you."

"You were really mean to Midoriya that day," Mina added. "And us too, but, like, we're used to it. He looked super upset."

"Maybe all of you need to grow some fucking balls and stop being so sensitive!"

Kirishima sighed exasperatedly. "Man, what the fuck happened yesterday? I thought you said you were gonna try and deal with things! Now you're acting all pissy again!"

"I also recall telling you to leave me the fuck alone and let me deal with it by myself!" His temper was really beginning to let loose, and he couldn't control it. His hands were twitching too, desperate to form a fist and hit every one of their concerned faces. The last string of composure Katsuki had was forbidding that.

 

Kaminari frowned. "You're being a dick, Bakugou. I know we, you know, like to joke around and stuff, but you can't treat us like this. We're not trying to annoy you; we're doing this because we worry, and I know you'd do the same to help any of us–"

"Do you think so?" he laughed bluntly. "Because I definitely would not. I don't really care that much." Katsuki stood up from his seat. "You know what I think? I think a good friend would sense that I don't want to fucking discuss my feelings like a weepy bitch, and I'd much rather be left alone. So if you care about me so much, why don't all of you just take a hike and fuck off?!"

All three of his friends stared at him with faces of disbelief. That had definitely gone over the line, and he knew it. Katsuki didn't blame them when all their expressions morphed into frustrated scowls.

"Fine," Mina snapped. "Since us worrying about you is so fucking horrible, we just won't bother." She snatched her bag and stormed out, loud footsteps echoing down the hall.

Kirishima and Kaminari took their seats, frowning angrily at Katsuki. He could feel their intense stares even when he sat back down and locked eyes with the table. A deep part of him wanted to apologise. But it was quickly suffocated by his anger, so he doubled down and stayed silent. 

 

As he fumed, a familiar feeling began creeping up on Katsuki. The severe migraine he was experiencing, along with the violent intrusive thoughts, were not a coincidence. And the realisation of what that meant only served to make his wrath grow further.

One day without Deku was enough for Katsuki to revert back to his old habits. He was fighting to keep his murderous compulsion at bay. But this time, it was different. He was alone with his thoughts and urges as they intensified tenfold. Katsuki put his head in his hands, knowing there would be no easy way for him to get rid of them now.

The next day, Katsuki didn't even try to resist slamming the door when he got home. He was just so mad, and he had been for the last two days. His friends followed through on their word, avoiding Katsuki and the spot where they ate lunch like the plague. The few times he had seen Deku in the halls, he had made sure to turn and go in the other direction so he didn't have to look at his anxious, heartbroken eyes.

"Try not to slam the door, please, Katsuki," called out his father. It felt like a bullet ripping through his skin whenever he was told what to do. He tried to hold his tongue, but it was no use.

"I'll do what I like, thanks." He walked right past the kitchen, intent on heading straight to his room, when he felt a soft hand reach out and touch his arm. Instinctively, he spun around with his hand outstretched, grazing his father's face. It wasn't a hard hit, but it had enough force that his glasses were knocked off his nose. Katsuki choked on air and bent down to pick them up.

"Dad, I– Sorry." He handed the pair of glasses back to Masaru, who was squinting, both out of being unable to see and because he was surprised. He adjusted his lenses and cocked his head at Katsuki curiously.

"Son, what's wrong?" he asked. "You've been a little… off lately."

Katsuki realised that just like all those years ago, when he had physically lashed out at his father, his feelings had subsided, if just for a moment. For the first time in a while, his head was clear. "I'm– I'm just going through a lot right now," he muttered. "I didn't mean to– I'm sorry. Are you OK?"

Masaru chuckled. "I'm alright, Katsuki. Don't worry. My priority is you. If there's anything your mother and I can do to help, then please come and talk to–"

"I'll be fine," Katsuki interrupted quickly. "Thanks. Really, thank you. But I've gotta sort things out on my own."

Masaru nodded solemnly and gestured for Katsuki to go. "Well, the offer's still on the table. And seriously, be gentle with these dang doors!"

Katsuki forced out a laugh and headed upstairs. He relished in his composed mind as long as he could. It remained calm for a little while as he changed out of his clothes and took a shower. But as the evening came to a close and night drew near, those malicious feelings of hatred began to weave their way into Katsuki's body.

 

He felt like shit. He knew that the real him didn't want to behave like this. Katsuki didn't like being lonely at school. He didn't enjoy hurting his family. But the damned curse he was stuck with refused to let him live normally. And now there was nothing he could do about it.

The forum was gone. They had pulled the plug on the entire site. And according to what he had read on the news, Katsuki wouldn't even be able to target someone in the slums by himself. There was increased police patrol in the area due to the investigation. So here he was, struggling to resist the insatiable urge for violence he had.

 

Katsuki wasn't tired. He didn't want to lay in his bed again, wasting the night away by not sleeping. There was one thing he could try instead, one thing that always calmed him down and let him relax for a few hours. Katsuki pulled on an already stained shirt and went downstairs, flicking on the light to the art studio.

Katsuki grabbed an empty canvas and set it on his easel. He still felt mad, but hopefully, once he began to paint, it would quell a little. He really didn't know what else to try. Deku wasn't an option anymore. How could he be around the body after he had confessed that he loved him? Katsuki wasn't even sure he knew how to love, nor did he think he deserved it. Deku needed more than him. So, he made the decision to stay away.

 

The palette he loaded up with colours was split into two sides—warm reds and oranges on the right and soft blues and greens on the left. He already had an idea of what he wanted to paint, and it would be something different from what he was used to. Katsuki didn't bother with any prepping of the blank canvas; he just began laying down the bright colours, outlining two figures.

The right side was hot and fiery. Katsuki used his warmer colours to create an outline of a vaguely human figure engulfed in flames. The oranges helped create a clearer outline, giving it light where it needed it. He mixed a small speck of blue in with the red to create a slight purple tint to use for the shadows. The strokes were all erratic, and he had already made plenty of mistakes. But for the first time in his life, he couldn't bring himself to fix them.

Once the right side was complete, Katsuki began working on the left side, using the much friendlier blues and tints of green to paint another figure, reaching out to meet the red one in the middle of the canvas. This time, he took care to make sure the blue reassembled a body of water, less threatening and more relaxed than the blazing fire. Katsuki painted little circles to show bubbles, contrasting the licks of flames that took up the right side.

When the elemental figures were finished, Katsuki took a step back. He was covered in paint, but he didn't care. He scrutinised his work. What he had painted as arms were reaching out to one another, blue gently meeting red. Katsuki gritted his teeth and added white and black to his palette, mixing them together to make a dark grey. Then, with a fan brush, he began violently tapping the canvas, painting a large cloud of billowing smoke where the outstretched hands met.

Water kills fire. Fire evaporates water. They cannot meld without hurting each other. When they met in the middle, it created a burning sizzle that had the potential to create devastating chaos. Harmony wasn't possible when the two of them mingled.

Katsuki was the flame. Deku was the ocean.

 

When he was done, Katsuki realised he wasn't calm at all. In fact, he was even more infuriated. He had worked up a sweat, and the room around him was a mess. There was paint on him and the floor, and the brushes, which he usually took the utmost care of, were beginning to fray from how hard he'd been pushing them. Katsuki put his hands on his face and groaned. What a waste of time. He was about to leave when another painting caused him to stop in his tracks. 

The sunrise painting. The one he had made while out with Deku.

 

Katsuki wanted to destroy it. He wanted to tear it apart, shred it into pieces so he never had to be reminded of that day again. Sometimes, he still recalled being on the roof of his car, drawing in the saline wind. If he had been given another chance, would he have let Deku stay with him longer instead of immediately shoving him away? Katsuki gripped the doorframe. Breaking the painting would have taken less than a second. It probably would have made him feel better.

The last thread of sanity Katsuki had forced him to leave, stopping the threat of destruction. 

 

The next day, Katsuki was still trying to juggle his normal life and regulate his emotions and impulses. He hadn't hurt anyone yet, but his hands were aching to inflict violence again. Katsuki had to shove it down deep to ignore it, but it never kept it at bay for that long.

Katsuki's friends were still avoiding him. They had been shooting him strange looks all week, mostly a mixture of hurt and concern. He was in no state to apologise, not until he dealt with his problems. Speaking to them would definitely make it worse, so he made sure to steer clear of them as well.

 

While on his phone, Katsuki walked through the hall. Most of the time, people moved out of the way for him, scared of his tall stature. It wasn't often that he had to worry about bumping into someone. Not that he particularly cared. If someone was grazed by him, they could suck it up and be thankful it wasn't a fist in their face instead.

When Katsuki looked up, he locked his gaze with a familiar pair of emerald eyes. Rage rapidly pooled in his gut when he saw Deku. He hated that look on his face. Deku was still staring at him as kind as he ever had, but there was also a hint of alarm, like a deer in headlights. Katsuki didn't have anything pleasant to say, but he wasn't fully in control of himself. So even though he managed to bite the inside of his cheek and stay quiet, his fury wasn't so easily contained. When he passed the younger boy, he bumped him with his shoulder harshly, pushing quite a few number of students to the ground, Deku included. 

 

A few of them simply got up and shot Katsuki a nasty glare. But one student, a second year with wavy black hair, got to his feet angrily and jammed a blaming finger into Katsuki's chest.

"Asshole, watch where you're going!" he shouted. Deku, who had scrambled to his feet, looked between the two boys nervously. Katsuki wanted to disregard the boy in front of him and give Deku a piece of his mind, but when he didn't respond to the words, he felt himself get shoved against the wall roughly.

"You gonna ignore me now, huh?" The black-haired boy grabbed a fistful of Katsuki's blazer and pulled him down slightly to meet his eye level. "You think because you're tough shit, you can go around treating everyone else like garbage?"

Katsuki was desperate to fight back. He wanted to, but he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he did. So he silently stared back with eyes that could kill, keeping his arms locked by his side.

 

"U-Um, sorry…" Katsuki's eye twitched at the sound of Deku, who tapped the second year on the shoulder. Both of them turned to look at the green-haired boy, fidgeting with his hands.

"I-I'm sure it was just an accident…" Deku muttered. "J-Just let him ap-apologise, and then we can get going…"

Deku made Katsuki irrational. It had been that way ever since they met. He was always going against his better judgement, doing risky or outlandish things for the sake of the younger boy. That irrationality didn't stop when he was mad. Katsuki pushed the boy off him and turned to Deku, ready to lash out. But he was interrupted by a punch to the jaw, knocking his head against the wall and causing him to white out for a second.

"Don't you dare push me!" Katsuki barely heard the insults being hurled at him. The hallway had turned into pandemonium. Everyone was either running or creating a crowd to watch the fight. Battling with his thread of composure, Katsuki made sure not to attack back, only defending himself by dodging the blows aimed at his head.

 

"Boys!" An authoritative voice cut through the mob, shutting everyone up. The crowd parted, and a teacher, Mr Aizawa, approached Katsuki with a very stern look.

"I know winter break is almost here, but that is not an excuse to start behaving like animals," Aizawa drawled. "Who started this nonsense?"

All the students, except Deku, pointed at Katsuki and the dark-haired second year. Aizawa nodded.

"Both of you report to my classroom at the end of the day for detention. Maybe an hour of thinking will teach you that this type of conduct is unacceptable in an institution like this."

At the last bell, Katsuki dragged his feet towards Mr Aizawa's classroom. Each step felt like he was walking on knives, and every pump of his heartbeat was agony for his head. This was Deku's fault. If he hadn't looked at Katsuki with those sympathetic eyes… If he hadn't been in the same place as him… then…

 

"Bakugou." Aizawa was sitting at his desk, with a class full of misbehaving students. The black-haired boy he'd fought with was in the back corner glaring at him.

"Well, I'm here," Katsuki announced sarcastically. Aizawa sighed.

"You will leave your belongings at the front of the room—your bag, your phone, everything. Then you will be sitting right at that desk there—" he pointed to the table right in front of the chalkboard. "—for the remainder of the hour. If you speak or complain, the timer starts from the beginning. Understand?"

Katsuki clenched his jaw and nodded. He dropped his bag by Aizawa's desk and tossed his phone in there before taking his seat. Aizawa got back to work, and Katsuki folded his arms across the table for him to lay his head on.

This was bullshit. Being locked in a room for an hour with only a ticking clock to entertain him was a horrible idea. Katsuki couldn't be alone with his mind. It was already turning against him, thinking more and more terrible things. He was fighting the most brutal battle of his life, the battle against himself.

This really was all Deku's fault. His presence had thrown Katsuki completely off balance. Just seeing him made Katsuki go mad in a way he couldn't fully explain. Nothing about Deku made sense. How Katsuki's urges seemed to stop when he was around. How frustrated Katsuki had gotten when he confessed his feelings, because they obviously couldn't be authentic. Everything was going wrong. Katsuki's life would be so much easier if Deku were to just–

 

Katsuki suddenly lifted his head from his arms. Aizawa raised his head from his papers and furrowed his brow at him.

"Is there something wrong, Bakugou?"

With wide eyes, Katsuki shook his head and put his chin back down on his arms. Aizawa looked at him, perplexed, before returning to his work. Katsuki's heart raced. He had just had an idea that would have never entered his mind had his brain not been so warped by his urges.

To be rid of the problem, Katsuki would have to kill Deku.

 

It was something he hadn't contemplated in a while. But he had thought of it before, right after he first laid eyes on Deku. After building a connection with him, he never considered the idea again. But maybe he shouldn't have brushed it off so quickly.

When Deku wasn't in his life, he could focus on the routine that had worked for him for years. He never had to worry about involving someone else or wonder how he was perceived. It was never stress-free, but it worked. While working with Deku, he had to make so many altercations to his patterns, keep a thought in his mind to watch out for the younger boy and ensure nothing happened to him. Before that, he had never bothered to care about another person. Everything Katsuki did fell back on only him. Without Deku, his life was a mess, but it was a mess he could handle. With Deku, his life was chaos.

 

Katsuki had felt every emotion under the sun about the underclassman. Joy, sadness, awe, anger, panic, calmness, hatred, and even more that he couldn't put a name on. When Deku was around, he more often than not failed to think logically. Even when he wasn't physically there, the thought of him could bring either serenity or resentment. It didn't make sense. Nothing about Deku made sense.

Why was Deku the key to keeping Katsuki's compulsions at bay? He still didn't know. But maybe getting rid of him would bring the old routine back. Maybe killing Deku would free him from relying on someone else, something he never wanted to do in the first place. The thought would have never been placed in his mind if he wasn't being tormented so much. 

By this point, Katsuki's urges had gotten worse than ever. He felt as though he was going to die if he didn't do something soon. It was like he was drowning in his wrath and would suffocate if he didn't act on something drastic.  

When Katsuki woke up the following day, he felt drained. Being angry all the time was tiring, but it couldn't be cured with medicine or a good night's rest. He was still feeling the ire that had been clouding his mind for almost a week now. And the thought of killing Deku wasn't out of the cards yet, either.

Katsuki sat up in his bed. When he got home after serving his detention, he went straight to his room and threw his bag at the wall, scattering all its contents across the floor. His parents had heard the commotion and tried to talk to him, but he wasn't giving them anything. Eventually, they did give up, but not before saying that maybe another therapist visit was in order.

 

Now, Katsuki could hear his mother and father's hushed voices behind his door, probably debating whether it was a good idea to knock or just barge in. Katsuki growled under his breath and walked over to his door, unlocking it and throwing it open. His parents stopped mid-sentence and looked at him stunned.

"Katsuki, good morning," Masaru said. "Um, we'd like to talk to you about what's been going on."

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "I've got school." He turned around to collect his uniform, but his mother grabbed his arm firmly.

"Stay home," insisted Mitsuki. "There's only two days of school left, aren't there? You can miss out. This is much more important."

Katsuki wrenched his arm from his mother's grasp and stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest. "What is there to talk about?"

"You, son," urged Masaru. "You've been acting out all week. I mean, you got detention yesterday. That's never happened before. What did you do?"

Katsuki darted his eyes to the side. "Just some second-year loser who tried to mess with me. Wasn't even my fault."

"You got into a fight?" Mitsuki shouted. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Hey, I didn't throw any punches!" he barked back. "He was the one who got pissed!"

"Well, there must've been a reason! What'd you do to him?"

Digging his fingers into his arms, Katsuki let out a hard exhale. He was trying so, so hard not to lose his temper. Luckily, being tired from just waking up helped a little. "I fucking shoved him. Happy? He was in the way. Shoulda moved out of my path if he didn't want to get knocked over."

Katsuki's parents looked at each other, worried. Then, Mitsuki sighed deeply and put her hands on her hips.

"Katsuki, does this have something to do with your new friend?"

 

Katsuki stiffened. "...Why do you think that."

"Well… I mean, we don't even know that much about him. What's his name?" asked Masaru.

It felt like he was choking up dirt when he spoke. "...Deku."

"OK, Deku." Masaru nodded. "Well, we've just noticed that… you seem to flip from being really happy to really angry, especially over the past week. And you're always running off to places we don't know about. So forgive me for asking, but… how close are you with this boy?"

Katsuki's nails pushed into his skin. “We’re… we’re– I… I don't even… I don't know. Everything's all fucked up."

Mitsuki looked at her son consolingly. "Katsuki, it's not healthy to be dependent on one person. A single boy shouldn't be able to mess with your emotions like this."

 

Fuck, that's what it is, isn't it? Katsuki was dependant on Deku. He relied on him to keep his sanity and urges under control. He felt possessive over him too. He wanted Deku to belong to him, like Katsuki belonged to Deku. 

Deku didn't need Katsuki specifically. But Katsuki sure as hell needed Deku.

His parents were waiting for a response. Katsuki shook his head. "I ain't dependant on him," he snapped. "We're just in a dumb argument."

I can't tell Mom or Dad anything about this, or they'll think I'm insane. Maybe I am, but when have I ever listened to my parents?

“OK, Katsuki,” said Masaru. "Well, like we suggested yesterday, maybe you should think about visiting the therapist again if your temper is flaring up. Remember, it's not your fault and doesn't make you a bad–"

"Alright, alright." Katsuki waved his hand dismissively. "I don't need you to spew therapy drivel at me, old man." He reached for his uniform again, but his mother cleared her throat.

"I wasn't joking about you staying home," she affirmed. "Don't you want a day off? You used to beg me for them."

Katsuki really didn't want to be alone with his thoughts. But he knew his parents were going to just keep pushing, so he begrudgingly pulled his arm back.

"Fine. But I'm taking the TV while you're out."

Katsuki tried to push the thought of Deku out of his mind. He sat on the sofa, rewatching his favourite show. He cooked his own lunch and even did some cleaning while his parents were gone. But even all that wasn't enough to distract him from Deku. Every part of him was flashing in his eyes. His freckled face, his warm hands, his wide smile. Katsuki both missed and loathed every memory he had of Deku. And as the hours ticked by, he became more and more eruptive. When his parents returned that night, he had to retreat to his room so he didn't explode at them. Now, by himself, he reviewed his feelings and remembered his last option: to permanently take Deku out of the picture.

 

Katsuki couldn't tell if he loved Deku or if he hated him. He knew how it felt to hate something; that was easy. But love was complicated. He had never felt that before, and he wasn't sure if that was what he was feeling. Despite how angry and confused he was, there was a part of him buried deep down that he knew felt genuine affection towards Deku. Katsuki hadn't faked enjoying Deku's company. But now he wanted him dead, hoping that with him gone, Katsuki could return to normal. His heart thumped in his chest.

Deku should be with me right now, Katsuki thought angrily. He wanted him to be with him so he could thread his hair between his fingers. He wanted to hold Deku's beautifully calloused hands in his own. He wanted to feel the blood pumping through his veins under my thumb. Katsuki wanted to touch every scar on his limbs and memorise every freckle on his face.

He should be here so I can watch the colour drain from his face and the life leave his eyes–

 

Katsuki threw his head back and groaned. Fuck. This is getting way, way worse.

Deku said he loved Katsuki. But did he love him? Was what he was feeling what love was? Is love wanting to keep every cell of a person under a microscope, so he can analyse each part of them? Is love yearning for a person's company so much that you feel like your heart has been ripped open when they're absent? Was that what Deku also felt towards Katsuki?

It certainly didn't sound like the love he'd heard from his classmates, movies, books, or just seeing couples in the world. Katsuki's need for Deku was so much more visceral than that. He wanted to feel every exhale on his cheek. He wanted every word he spoke to land on his eager ears. He wanted to take his wandering hands and attach them to his own. He wanted a monopoly over every single facet of Deku's life. The more he thought about it, the more Katsuki missed Deku's incessant rambling. It wasn't even that he particularly cared about what he was saying. He just longed to hear Deku's voice again.

Butterflies flapped a hurricane in his stomach, a devastating storm that destroyed all rationality when it came to Deku . What the fuck do people do when they are in love? From what he had observed, they wanted to be with each other for the rest of their lives. They want to go out on dates and enjoy each other's simple company. They held hands and cuddled and kissed and–

 

Katsuki froze, feeling his heart fill with molten heat. Yes, that sounded right. He had never longed for it before, but now it was a desperate, carnal feeling. He wanted to kiss Deku. He wanted to kiss Deku until his lips hurt, his lungs burned, and his eyes were damp with tears. He wanted to hold him tight to his chest so he'd never leave again.

But the dark, impulsive side of Katsuki still wanted to kill him. It didn't make sense. People don't kill those they love. Maybe Katsuki didn't love him after all. What kind of lover plots to harm the person they adore?

Was this the way Katsuki had just been destined to be? Unable to show any sort of feeling without the urge of violence? He cherished Deku, and he hated him. He wanted the boy by his side, and he wanted him in a grave. He desired to see both his smile and the lifeless look in his eyes. He loved the red of his cheeks and wanted to find out if the blood that seeped from his veins was that same bright colour. 

Katsuki wasn't sure how long he had been lying in his room. It had at least been long enough for the sun to come down and the moon to go up, setting his room into darkness. His eyes were wide open. It was definitely past midnight when he finally decided on what to do. Before he got ready to leave, he searched his desk. Under a few papers was Deku’s bracelet. Katsuki clipped it around his wrist firmly. It was time to put a stop to everything.

Without pausing, Katsuki reached under his bed for where he had stashed his knife and put it in his pocket. He pulled a black jacket from his closet, not even bothering to zip it up. Climbing out the window, Katsuki ignored the freezing wind slapping him in the face as he dropped to the grass and began walking. It would be a long trek, but his inebriated mind didn't care. He had one goal and one goal only, to keep moving forward no matter what.

 

Somehow, Katsuki's foggy memory remembered the route to Deku's house. His fingers were starting to go numb, but he put one foot in front of the other, walking up the driveway and pushing past the rusty gate. It seemed that neither Deku nor his mother had bothered to lock it again, so it let out a looming creak as Katsuki pushed it open.

He walked around the side of the house, where Deku's room was. A faint recollection of the first time he had come here arose through the fog. But it wasn't strong enough to break Katsuki out of his trance. He pushed the window open and climbed inside. Deku's room was warm, and his soft breathing filled the space. Katsuki's heart skipped a beat.

 

Katsuki peered down at Deku, so peaceful and pretty in his slumber. He was tucked in tightly for the cold weather; only his face, pressed against his white pillow, could be seen. The rest of his body was covered by layers of thick blankets.

A million emotions ran through Katsuki's heart. He loved Deku. He hated him. He wanted him to disappear. He wanted him at his side. Strong urges from opposing parts of him muddled together into a murky mix of desire, both to adore and to destroy. Katsuki took a deep inhale before placing one hand over Deku's mouth. He didn't stir.

Katsuki wasn't in possession of his body as he raised his arm above his head. It was like he was watching what he was doing from a bird's eye view. His actions weren't his own as he gripped the handle of the blade. This is it.

 

Katsuki swung the knife down, cutting through the fabric of the blanket and piercing Deku’s skin, stabbing him right where his heart would be.

 

 

Notes:

calm down. mcd isnt tagged for a reason. also kacchan doesn't actually want deku dead in case that wasn’t obvious. he’s just going a little bit nuts without him. but now they’re reunited!!! this will surely lead to a positive outcome!! whats a little stabbing between friends (or more…..hehehe)??

next chapter will be the last one. thank u sm for reading. i hope you enjoy the final chapter. should be out in the next week or so

Chapter 13: A Purpose

Notes:

for the final time, story playlist here :D - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12NmGG9D5P6H8NynQRiJ5m?si=QyWlsRiWS9Cd6jZq8WpIsQ

well, here it is. this chapter was supposed to be 10k words but i literally ended up making it double the length. 20k words!!!!! i'm sorry it took so long to release but theres your reasoning lol. also if you havent read my other fic im here to remind you I SUCK AT WRITING KISSING SCENES. so i am very sorry if the ones in this chapter arent very good or worth the wait :c but i tried my best so i hope you enjoy! ignore any errors ill fix them later its late and i am falling asleep writing thisszzzzzzZZZZZZZZ

As soon as the blade pierced Deku’s skin, regret flooded every cell in Katsuki’s body. All the fog in his mind cleared, and he felt like he had been violently shaken awake. An acidic taste threatened his tongue as though he might vomit. Deku woke up instantly, eyes filled with pain. He looked terrified as his gaze flickered from the hand covering his mouth to the bloody knife to Katsuki’s mortified face.

 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck am I doing?

 

Against his better judgment, Katsuki yanked the knife back, tearing the blanket and exposing Deku’s wound to the air. He heard a muffled cry under his palm, moisture collecting against his skin. Katsuki swore under his breath. He’d done the number one thing to never do when it came to stab wounds. Katsuki pulled the thick blanket back to assess what he had done. He hadn’t swung down that hard. Maybe the injury to Deku’s chest was salvageable.

But when he saw where he had actually harmed Deku, Katsuki was frozen in shock. He had been aiming for the heart, caught up in his chaotic mind and unable to be rational. But thrown over Deku’s chest was his arm. He’d been sleeping in a position with his limbs strewn across his body. So Katsuki hadn’t stabbed him in the chest; he’d stabbed him in the forearm. A small but deep cut leaking crimson was proof of that now. Katsuki’s skull pounded with guilt at the sight. He wasn’t thinking straight. He hadn’t been thinking straight since their argument. Because there was no way a clear-headed Katsuki would ever hurt Deku like this.

 

The hand against Deku’s mouth was starting to become even more damp with condensation from the boy's panicked breath and Katsuki's sweaty palm. Deku was still motionless, seemingly too surprised to even attempt to fight back. But then, he winced in pain and reflexively clutched his arm with his free hand, squeezing just above the wound. The action made a trickle of blood ooze out, and Katsuki jerked his hand away from his face.

“Deku,” he breathed, the first words he’d uttered that night. “I’m- I’m sorr- I’m gonna fix you, h-hold on.” He scrambled up, tossed the knife on the desk and went over to the bookshelf.

Where did I– ah, got it. He reached to the top shelf for the box of first aid that he’d put up out of Deku’s grasp. Popping off the lid, Katsuki grabbed the rolls of bandages and antibiotic cream. He turned back to Deku, who was watching him curiously. Fear had drained from his face completely.

 

Katsuki dropped everything on the bed, recalling all he knew about treating wounds. The cut on Deku's arm wasn’t very wide nor deep, but it needed to be patched up before any risk of infection reared its head. First, he needed to stop the bleeding.

“Pressure,” he muttered to himself. “You need pressure.”  Katsuki tore off a piece of gauze and pressed it against Deku’s arm. It quickly became soaked with blood, so he tore off another, pressing down hard with one hand and trying to unscrew the antibiotic tube with the other. Warm blood began staining his fingers.

Silently, Deku took over, covering his wound with the gauze. He watched as Deku replaced Katsuki's hand with his own, pushing against where the blood was seeping out. With both hands now free, Katsuki tore off a thicker chunk of the material and gave it to Deku to put on his injury. Now, he had to clean it off. His eyes darted around the room, looking for anything to use. Katsuki spotted a half-empty water bottle on the desk, which would have to do. He looked down at his unzipped jacket. The white shirt underneath would be a small sacrifice. He pulled off his jacket, then shirt and put on his jacket again, zipping it up to his chin. 

Holding both in his hands, Katsuki scrunched up his shirt and pressed it against the mouth of the bottle, letting the water dampen the fabric. Once he had enough, Katsuki went back over to Deku, who was still watching him wordlessly, unafraid. Katsuki gently reached for his injured arm and took off the layers of gauze. The bleeding looked to have stopped, but it had taken a lot to do so.

Katsuki carefully swiped at the area surrounding Deku’s stab wound, cleaning away the blood and staining his white shirt a bright shade of burgundy. As he cleaned off the last remaining blotches of blood, Katsuki grabbed the antibiotic cream and squeezed a little onto his clean hand. He began tenderly dabbing the cream against the wound to keep it sterile, hoping it would also help reduce some of the swelling. When the anointing was done, he was finally ready to cover Deku’s arm up. 

The bandages were already beginning to unravel, so it was easy to find the beginning of the material and loop it around Deku’s arm, which he held out obediently to help. Katsuki’s hands, which over the years had been stained with the blood of dozens, shakily wrapped the bandages around Deku’s wound. He wasn't very experienced with how to tie it off when he was finished, so he sloppily shoved the end of the bandage under the layers he had made, hoping that he had done it tight enough that it wouldn't untangle.

 

Deku, who had been watching Katsuki take care of the wound he had inflicted, still remained noiseless when he was done. He ghosted his fingers over where the wound was now covered. Katsuki packed up the leftover first aid, putting it back in the box and then turning back to Deku, eyes clouded over in shame. He walked to the bed and kneeled next to it so he was at eye level with Deku again. 

Katsuki looked at his hands. The left one was covered in red, and the other was, too, but less so, thanks to the water diluting it a little. The bracelet that he hadn’t removed from his wrist had a splash of blood on it as well, which he wiped off before it had a chance to dry and ruin it.

Deku was still quiet, and it began to agitate Katsuki. It didn't matter if his words were comprised of curses and wishes for Katsuki to go to hell. He needed to hear his voice again.

“Fuck, Deku. Say something,” he pleaded. “Get mad, tell me to fuck off, say I’m a piece of shit, just- anything. I haven't heard you speak in so long. I can’t stand you being quiet.”

 

Deku ran his tongue over his cracked lips, making Katsuki's heart flutter. Even after everything, he was still attracted to everything Deku did—not that it mattered. He didn’t deserve any hints of niceties from Deku anymore, which was why he couldn’t believe his eyes when Deku’s mouth morphed into an affectionate and understanding smile.

“Kacchan… I'm so happy to see you.”

Katsuki felt winded. How could Deku say these things? Did he seriously have no self-preservation whatsoever? Was he this infatuated with Katsuki? It made the blood in his face feel red hot.

“… you've gotta be fucking kidding me,” Katsuki whispered.  "I just fucking stabbed you.”

Deku shrugged. “Well, you also just patched me up.”

Katsuki spluttered. “I- No. No, no, no, Deku, you don’t get to just brush this under the rug. I was trying to kill you. I- I haven’t been thinking clearly all week, and I’ve been so angry. You’re all I’ve been thinking about. And I couldn’t take it anymore, so I came over here to–”

“To kill me?” Deku smirked. He shook his head. “I doubt it.”

“ Yes, I did,” Katsuki growled. “I got my compulsion, and I came over here to kill you and get rid of it. I would have stabbed you in the heart if your arm wasn’t in the way.”

Deku peered down at his bandages. “You didn’t use that much force,” he observed. “The wound wasn’t that deep; I won’t even need stitches.” He met Katsuki’s confused eyes warmly. “And besides, you were so quick to help. I don’t think you really meant to hurt me.”

Katsuki fisted his hair, pulling hard enough to yank some blond strands out of their roots. “Stop it. Stop trying to be so understanding,” he shuddered. “You have every reason to hate me. I- I don’t–”

“Kacchan, you can’t control your impulses,” soothed Deku. “It’s not your fault. And I already told you that I’ll do anything to help you.”

“No, no, stop.” Katsuki put his head in his hands. “Look at what I’ve done to you–”

A soft, breathy laugh escaped from Deku’s lips. “I’ve had a lot worse injuries than this. You’ll have to try harder than a light stab.” He put one hand on his cheek and cocked his head to the side, looking at Katsuki with a shrewd glint in his eye. “Take a look at yourself , Kacchan. You came here wearing a white shirt, and you're not wearing your gloves or your mask. I doubt you noticed the new cameras my mom installed when you snuck in here. And you just said you weren’t aiming for my neck, which would have ended my life a lot quicker. If you were to commit murder, you wouldn't have gotten away with it. I know you do things smarter than that. Your head was clouded with anger. So something tells me that deep down, no part of you actually wanted to kill me.”

 

Katsuki knew Deku was right. He usually was, but he did get one thing mistaken. In his deluded state, he was genuinely aiming for Deku’s heart, intent on slicing through the flesh and driving the knife deep past his ribs. Katsuki didn’t want to kill him, but the irrational and violent side of him did. That was why he subconsciously held back and didn’t stab him with a lethal amount of force. That was why he jumped so quickly to tend to his wounds when his vision became lucid again. That was why the second he broke Deku’s skin, he was violently pulled back to reality and felt the shame of his actions punch him in the gut.

In a disturbing vision, Katsuki imagined what would have happened if he had killed Deku. If his arm hadn’t been there to block the blow and if he’d swung down more forcefully. It made his own chest throb in excruciating pain. Katsuki would've been hysterical, trying to save him to no avail. Deku’s life would have drained from his glimmering green eyes, and the colour of his skin would have turned a murky grey. After Deku’s breathing stopped, an agonised Katsuki probably would have turned the knife on himself. As he tried to shake the graphic image from his mind, a brief flash of Inko discovering the two lifeless bodies rudely showed its face. Katsuki thanked every star in the sky that that did not happen if only for the sake of the poor woman’s weak heart.

 

Deku realised that Katsuki had reached the same conclusion and softened his expression. “Kacchan,” he whispered, putting a warm hand on Katsuki’s, smearing his fingertips with his own blood. Katsuki wanted to jerk back so Deku didn’t get his hands dirty, but the boy gripped against his palm with unforeseen strength.

“Kacchan,” he repeated. “Did I… I mean… do you not want to be around me anymore?”

Katsuki felt his heart face. He squeezed Deku’s hand tightly. “No.”

“No… you don’t want to be around me, or no you–”

“No, I don’t want to be away from you ever again,” Katsuki declared. “Deku, I was losing my mind without you. And you had every right to stay away. I treated you like shit, and I-I’ve been pushing you away for ages. And I am so, so sorry.”

Katsuki took a deep breath, ready to lay everything on the table. Deku waited with his signature patient eyes, still clasping his hand.

“I’m sorry for not saying you’re my friend. I was scared. Because I’ve never felt so strongly about someone before I met you, and I was afraid I’d just be setting myself up for disaster if I did. Because I had convinced myself that you’d eventually leave. And I didn’t want to lose you. But I ended up just making you distant myself.”

Deku interlocked his fingers with Katsuki’s. “Kacchan… I really thought you hated me after what I did. I mean, the way you were acting at school–”

“I never hated you,” Katsuki said concretely. “Never. Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you. I hated how I couldn’t understand how I felt. I couldn’t rationalise why you would do such a dangerous thing… for my sake. And then when we were apart… I started to slip back into…” He trailed off, ashamed. Deku gasped.

“Oh, Kacchan, were you really suffering from them all week?” Shiny tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve helped.”

“You do help,” affirmed Katsuki. “That’s why I need you. Without you, I go insane. So I don’t care how selfish it is, please, just tell me you’ll stay by my side, D– Izuku.”

 

Deku’s breathing got deeper at the sound of his first name. He smiled down at their intertwined hands, rubbing his thumb across Katsuki’s knuckles.

“Of course I will,” he answered. “But… I’ve got to know.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m… in love with you,” Deku admitted. “And I want to understand how you feel. Because I’m content with any answer as long as I get to stay with you.”

Katsuki gulped at his vulnerability. His stomach did a backflip at the word ‘love’. “...OK.”

“Do you… only need me? Or do you love me too?”

Katsuki turned to ice. He couldn’t respond, only keeping his eyes locked on the stained red sheets of Deku’s bed.

“Because if you just need me to keep you sane, I’ll do that,” he continued. “If you can replace your compulsion to kill with being around me, then I’ll gladly be what you need me to be. I’m happy to be a tool for you–”

Katsuki impulsively tugged forward on their hands, pulling Deku in close. His voice was cut off by a muted yelp, and Katsuki moved his hands to rest firmly on Deku’s shoulders.

“I told you you’re not a goddamn tool,” implored Katsuki. “You’re my friend. Fuck, you’re more than that. I do need you, but it’s more than that, too. I-I don’t know for sure if what I’m feeling is love, but it has to be the closest thing because I’m fucking obsessed with everything about you.”

Deku’s face lit up slightly, and Katsuki hung his head as he spoke. “I love the way your giant green eyes look at me like I could never do anything wrong. I love your gorgeous fucking smile that you never give anyone else. I love your messy ass hair and how soft it always is. I love every single one of the freckles on your face. I love how hot you are, even if you can’t see it for yourself. I love how secure in your own personality you are. You’re the most genuine person I’ve ever met.”

Deku’s bottom lip wobbled with overwhelming joy. Katsuki still had more to say, just letting the words spill out of his mouth like a waterfall. He moved his hands to rest on either side of Deku’s neck, feeling his throat bob when he swallowed his tears. Shakily, Deku placed his hands on Katsuki’s biceps, barely holding onto the firm muscle beneath.

“I love that cute thing you do when you’re thinking. You always pinch your bottom lip, and it looks fucking perfect. I love how you think in general, how you just keep rambling because your brain never stops. I love hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about. And I love… that you’ve chosen me, even though I don’t deserve you. I know that you love me… despite everything.”

“Despite everything?” Deku cried. “You are everything.”

 

Even in the dark room, Katsuki could see Deku perfectly. Every outline of his features was engraved in his mind. Each laugh, grin, teasing glance, Katsuki had branded it all into his brain. And they were close. Their noses were just barely apart, and both of their breaths were mingling in the space between their mouths. Katsuki could hear Deku’s suppressed sobs, but he knew from his crooked smile that he was crying from happiness.

Deku was the one to lean in a little further. Their foreheads bumped together, and Deku giggled.

“This feels familiar."

It did. And it felt right, too. Katsuki had never felt safer than in that moment. He liked being close. He liked touching Deku. And he had finally worked up the courage to admit that his feelings were deeper than platonic.

 

But even when Katsuki was ready to move, it was Deku who first placed his lips against Katsuki’s waiting mouth. They were plump and tender, unlike any sensation Katsuki had ever felt before, and there was a slight minty taste. The rush of kissing Deku travelled throughout his body and into his core. His hands were already perfectly positioned to pull Deku in further, keeping their lips glued together until Katsuki had to pull away to breathe. It had been a while since he kissed someone, and his mind was dazed as his eyes focused on the boy in front of him, grinning from ear to ear with a subtle pink tint on his cheeks.

“I– I hope I didn’t misread you, Kacchan,” Deku whispered, voice scratchy. “Sh-Should I have asked to kiss you? I’m sor–”

Katsuki placed a quick peck on his mumbling lips and shut him up. When he pulled back, a thankful smile was plastered on his face.

“Shut up, you stupid nerd,” he teased. “I obviously wanted to kiss you too.”

Giddily, Deku nodded. “I’m glad.”

Katsuki brushed the back of his fingers against Deku’s cheek, feeling its warmth radiate against his knuckles. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

Katsuki pulled back a little in shock. “What?! That was your first kiss?!”

Deku shrugged. “I mean, what did you expect? I told you I haven’t had many friends.” Then he looked nervous. “Wait, was it a bad kiss, Kacchan? I’m sorry! I’m not experienced at–”

Katsuki groaned and put a hand over Deku’s mouth. “It was fine. Shit, it was better than fine. I’ll kiss your dumb mouth more if it means you’ll stop talking.”

Deku beamed sheepishly. Katsuki shook his head, moving his hand back to cup Deku’s face. “I just feel bad about this situation being your first one. I dunno, it should’ve been more romantic than you being stabbed and us both being covered in blood.”

Deku winked. “I think that’s the epitome of romance. And besides, there are no circumstances where kissing you would be bad.” 

Katsuki shoved his arm lightly. “Stop it.” He traced Deku’s freckles, hovering his fingertips over his cheeks. “God, you’re so beautiful. How are you so fucking gorgeous? Fuck.”

Deku blushed, running his hovering fingers over Katsuki’s upper arm. “Have… you kissed anyone before, Kacchan?”

“Yeah.”

Fingers dug deeply into Katsuki’s muscles, but Deku’s face remained unchanged. “Oh…”

Katsuki chuckled, brushing a stray lock of green hair from Deku’s forehead. “You jealous, Deku?”

Deku’s nervous eyes struggled to meet Katsuki’s. “N-No…”

Katsuki kissed him just above his brow.  “Calm down, nerd. It was ages ago at one of Ashido’s dumb parties. And it wasn’t even good. I can’t even remember the name of the damn extra who did it.” He threaded his fingers through the short hairs on the back of Deku’s neck. “Trust me, Deku. The only person I need is you. No one holds a fucking candle to how much I want you.”

 

A possessive glint flashed just barely across Deku’s face. He leaned in and kissed Katsuki, lips filled with urgency. Katsuki kissed back with the same level of want, standing up from the floor. He didn’t break apart from Deku’s lips as he got onto the bed, Deku shuffling over so they could lie side by side. Keeping himself up with one arm, he leaned over Deku, being mindful of his injured arm.

“You don’t have to treat my arm like it’s glass, Kacchan,” objected Deku, panting a little from the lack of air. “I promise it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt at all.”

Katsuki’s eyes flickered to the bandages. They were firmly wrapped around his arm and hadn’t moved from when he had put them there. Gently, Katsuki grabbed his wrist, snaking his fingers against Deku’s palm and slotting his own in the gaps of his hand.

“There you go,” Deku said in a sing-song way. “Baby steps!”

“Shut up.” Katsuki moved closer, letting his legs become entangled with Deku’s. “I want to kiss you again.”

Deku exhaled heavily. “Then do it, and don’t worry about asking, Kacchan.”

That was enough. Never had Katsuki felt more confident in something in his life than when he kissed Deku once more, letting smaller hands roam against his upper body. Deku suddenly licked against Katsuki’s lips, and Katsuki hesitated for a second before opening his mouth a little and letting Deku in. His warm tongue invaded his mouth with purpose, pushing the kiss to be deeper, and Katsuki had to get even closer to keep up.

When his lungs begged for air, Katsuki panted, running his tongue over his wet lips. “You sure this is your first time kissing someone, nerd? Seems you’ve got a pretty good hang of it.”

Deku giggled. “Yep. Guess kissing you comes naturally.”

Katsuki couldn’t have worded it better. Kissing Deku was as second nature as his heart beating, as unconscious as blinking. He went back in, biting on Deku’s lower lip and sucking it between his teeth. Deku whined, a perfect noise, but cut himself off, probably remembering his mother was not that far away. Katsuki chuckled at his restraint, longing for a day he didn’t have to hear Deku hold back. For now, Katsuki was content to memorise everything about him, each little thing that made Deku sigh in pleasure and where he needed to place his hands to make his pulse quicken.

Katsuki separated from Deku and immediately dipped down to kiss against his neck, tasting the slightest hint of sweat against his skin. It made no difference as he continued to lap at Deku’s throat, being mindful not to go hard enough to leave marks.

“Kacchan,” Deku breathed. “That– That’s really nice…”

“I know,” Katsuki whispered. “You sound nice, too. Don’t be too quiet.” He was going to chisel every sound that Deku made into his ears. Katsuki watched as Deku’s mouth attempted to form words, but all the breaths that came out told him exactly how much he was enjoying Katsuki’s actions.

Sacrilegious fingers drifted lower and lower against Katsuki’s side, resting against his belt. He knew Deku wouldn’t go any further than that, but the thought of it rudely popped into his mind as he grazed his lips over Deku’s jaw. It was intrusive and vulgar and not something that he wanted to think about right now, so Katsuki kicked it to the side and focused on pleasing the boy under him.

 

“Kacchan,” mumbled Deku. His voice was a lot more strong when Katsuki’s head was literally right next to his vocal chords. He lifted his head, seeing how flustered Deku was, and only assumed he looked a similar way. Deku’s bottom lip was slightly swollen, so Katsuki gave it a soft peck. 

“Can I sit up?” he asked. “You can lie down if you want.”

Katsuki nodded and detangled himself from Deku’s limbs. Deku sat up, and Katsuki manoeuvred his body so his head was lying in his lap. Deku received this well, putting his hand on Katsuki’s forehead and running his fingers through his messy spikes of blond hair. A content sigh was coaxed from Katsuki’s lips, which only pressed Deku to continue stroking his head. He allowed his scarlet eyes to flutter shut, secure in Deku’s presence.

“By the way, I’ve never actually… dated anyone,” admitted Katsuki. “So I’m sorry if I’m like… shit at it. I don’t really know what to do.”

Deku rubbed the back of Katsuki’s neck. “We’re dating, then?”

His red eyes shot open and narrowed at the boy above him. “I sure fuckin’ hope so. I don’t think people who are just friends kiss like that.”

Deku laughed, a euphoric sound to Katsuki’s ears. “Fair enough. So, does that make us… boyfriends?”

Katsuki’s eyelids closed gently. “Yes, nerd.”

Only a giggle came out from Deku’s mouth. “Kacchan’s my boyfriend.”

“...Yeah, I am.”

“Then don’t worry about being shit at this. You’re incredible in every way, and that’ll include romance. All you need is a little confidence.”

 

There was a little bit more silence as Deku peacefully threaded his fingers through Katsuki’s hair. The tranquil motion could have lulled him to sleep, but his mind was still running. He tensed up, and Deku immediately noticed, stopping his hand on the nape of his neck.

“Everything alright, Kacchan?”

Katsuki wanted to sit up, but being on Deku’s lap was so comfortable. In a way, it made his mind clear enough that he could collect his thoughts cohesively. He stared up at the gleaming green eyes looming over him.

“The compulsion’s gone,” he said bluntly. “And you’re not dead.”

Deku blinked and then chuckled. “Well, yes. So your theory’s right, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. If I start feeling the urge to hurt someone, I don’t need to quell it by killing anyone. Just being around you calms me down and keeps it at bay.”

Katsuki felt Deku’s hand move down his neck to his shoulder, and he squeezed it supportively. “I’m so happy I can be there for you. I know how much you hated doing it, so this is fantastic news.”

Katsuki smirked. “Even if you don’t get to use me to indulge in your morbid fascination anymore?”

Deku huffed. “There are plenty of other mediums I can turn to if I want to geek out about homicide, Kacchan. I care more about your mental health than watching you commit murder. You aren’t the only one I rely on for that.”

Katsuki smiled, but then he remembered Deku’s sullen face at the beginning of the week and the confession of guilt he’d confined in him. Deku had murdered someone to protect Katsuki.

“ You killed someone,” he breathed, voicing his thoughts aloud. Deku’s face fell.

“Yes. To keep you safe.”

Katsuki sat up suddenly, gripping Deku’s hands, which were beginning to shake. His viridian eyes were glassy, and Katsuki grabbed his chin to force him to look at him.

“Tell me what happened. What you did exactly.”

Deku tried to turn away, but Katsuki wouldn’t let him. His voice was croaky, and he was fighting back tears again, but Katsuki caught every word.

 

“I found where he lived and snuck into his apartment in the middle of the night,” Deku murmured. “I killed him and destroyed the evidence of you on his computer. Then someone came home, so I escaped the way I got in.”

Katsuki frowned. It sounded pretty clean cut. Then why had he looked so terrible the morning afterwards? “What about cameras? Were you seen?”

“I took out the cameras around his house with rocks,” replied Deku. 

Katsuki bit his lip. “I guess I’m just… It’s not adding up. You looked like shit at school. Stressed out of your mind and like you hadn’t gotten any sleep. Was it just because you’d never done that before?”

Deku swallowed hard. “No. I didn’t really feel anything after I killed him. But the reason I looked so awful at school was because I’d made a mistake. I was paranoid because…”

Katsuki wrapped his hands around Deku’s, cupping them. Deku took in a shuddering breath.

“I got one of my gloves caught on something, and it ripped off.” He reached under his pillow and pulled out a woollen piece of fabric. Deku placed it in Katsuki’s open palm, and he inspected it. The glove had been torn at the wrist, missing a large chunk of the material. His eyes widened in horror at the realisation.

“Deku… that’s really, really bad,” he choked out. “They can definitely pin it on you if they find it. Where did it get ripped off? Can you go back and get it?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Deku exhaled. “It looked like it might’ve flown away in the wind before I noticed it ripped. And right after I realised, the body was found and I panicked and ran.”

 

Katsuki felt his pulse rapidly begin to pump under his skin. If Deku was caught, he’d lose him. And the boy would suffer for something that was ultimately Katsuki’s fault. He couldn’t let that happen. But what could he do? There wasn’t anything to do but wait and see if the implicating evidence was found or somehow evaded authorities.

“Kacchan,” said Deku under his breath. “Are you mad at me?”

Katsuki shook his head, shoving the glove into his pocket. “No. I’m not mad. I’m worried. And I’m pissed at myself. I never wanted to put you in a position where you felt you had to do this.”

“I did it on my own–”

“I know,” Katsuki interjected. “And I just don’t get it. You could go to jail for the rest of your life. You’d be cast aside by everyone in your life. Why? Why do all that… for my sake?”

Deku’s hands found their home in Katsuki’s coarse hair, stroking it tenderly. “Did you really forget already, Kacchan? It’s because I love you.”

Shaking his head again, Katsuki put a hand on Deku’s arm. “I just… I never thought a real person could have it in them to be that selfless. I didn’t think anyone could… love me as I am after what I've done.

“I do. Unconditionally. Even if everyone in the world hates you, I never will.”

Katsuki scoffed humourlessly. “A normal person would hear what I've done and run for the hills. You’re weird, Deku.”

“I don't know what else I have to do to prove to you that I'm not normal, Kacchan. And I don’t care that I’m not considered normal, so I certainly don't give a fuck that you’re not considered normal either.”

 

That was the backbone of their relationship, wasn’t it? For so long, Katsuki was forced to keep his emotions bottled up, fearing that his double life would be discovered. He pushed down his real personality to prevent anyone from getting too close and always kept a safe distance from those he knew so they would never discover the truth. Katsuki wasn’t normal. But neither was Deku. He was strange in his own ways, but his quirks never seemed too atypical to Katsuki. He took some time to get used to, sure, but after that, Katsuki had grown to know Deku as someone who was patient, understanding and kind to the core. But he was fiercely protective, too, and he had the capability to do unethical things with little remorse as well.

They were both devils to some degree. But that was why they were attached to each other. Because each other was all they had.

 

Katsuki lay back down on Deku’s lap, trying to clear his mind. “So, then, what are you gonna do about the whole… glove thing?”

Deku stiffened up. “I don’t know. I really don’t. If they don’t find it, that’d be nice. But if not… I suppose I’ll have to face the music.”

With his clean hand, Katsuki rubbed Deku’s leg reassuringly. “Hey, I’ve been following the story pretty closely. It’s been five days. Surely, they would have said something if they had found it and brought you in by now.”

Deku shrugged hopelessly. “I guess.”

A loud beeping noise made both boys jump. Deku leaned over to his bedside table and slammed his hand on the alarm clock, which read–

“It’s 6am?!” Katsuki blurted out, leaping up from where he lay on the bed. “Fuck, I gotta get back before the old hag realises I snuck out.” The mattress creaked at the sudden movement, and Deku untangled himself from his layers of blankets. Katsuki had pulled the blinds back to see the sky beginning to phase out of its murky grey colour and orange starting to peak out of the horizon.

“Time flies when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?” he giggled, standing behind Katsuki. The knife he tossed on Deku’s desk had dried up, and he desperately tried to scrub the stain from his wooden tabletop.

“I’ll clean it off, Kacchan. Don’t worry.”

Katsuki turned around. There were small pools of scarlet on his bed where Katsuki had stabbed Deku, and more stains were created while he tried to patch him up. Deku ran his arm from Katsuki’s bicep all the way to his hand before interlocking their fingers.

“Hey. Don’t worry about the mess. I promise it’s OK. I’ll clean it all. You get home and leave it to me.”

Katsuki shoved the knife into his pocket and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning against Deku’s chair. “Sure hope no nosey bastard stops me on the way back. I won’t look very good with my hands all bloody.”

Deku lit up and gestured for Katsuki to stay put while he left the room. He returned a few seconds later with a damp towel, taking Katsuki’s arms and pushing up his sleeve so he could wipe off the blood that had trickled down his forearms.

“You’ll be alright now,” said Deku. “I think I’ll stay home from school today. But I can message you if you want.”

“Please,” Katsuki muttered, watching Deku’s scarred hands at work scrubbing the dried blood from his skin. The bandage he had wrapped around his arm was still firmly tied there, and no blood had leaked through it. Deku was right; he hadn’t hurt him too badly. That didn’t absolve him of any remorse, but Katsuki was glad that he was relatively OK.

 

“OK, you’re all done, Kacchan.” Deku tossed the towel onto his bed and stood back with a smile. Katsuki pulled his sleeves down and clasped his hands together. 

“Right. So… I’ll see you when I see you,” he murmured, turning for the window. Katsuki heard a slight huff before feeling a hand on his back.

“Are you going to leave without saying a proper goodbye?” Deku asked shyly. The tone of his voice made Katsuki freeze in place and his breath hitch. He faced Deku, who had an expectant look in his eyes. Seeing him in the light of the first rays of sun painted him in a gorgeous way. Finally Katsuki could really see the features he had fallen for clearly.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “I’m already fucking up…”

“You’re not.” Deku moved in closer and feathered his hands over Katsuki’s waist. Katsuki gave him permission to grip his hips by stepping even closer and putting both hands on either side of Deku’s neck, running his thumb along his soft jawline.

“Kacchan… do you want a hug?”

It was a question Deku had asked him before. And the immediate answer Katsuki had responded with in his mind at that time had not changed.

“Yes.”

 

Deku pulled Katsuki in and wrapped his arms around him firmly, burying his face in his chest. His arms were safe and warm, and Katsuki quickly embraced him too, squeezing tightly and tilting his head so it was slightly resting on Deku’s. His freshly washed curls tickled his cheeks and nose, but he had never felt more at ease. Their bodies were made to slot together. Katsuki didn’t think he’d ever meet anyone who saw him in the way Deku did. And he didn’t think he’d ever encounter another person who he felt such intense infatuation for in his life.

Katsuki eventually pulled back, peering down at Deku, who stared back with a crooked smile. With one hand still resting against Deku’s neck, Katsuki tilted Deku’s head up slightly so he could lean down and place a tender kiss on his lips. It was less fervid than he had kissed him before, but it was what he needed right now. A reassurance of his devotion, and a sign that he was going to stand by his side no matter what.

“OK, you should go,” Deku muttered against Katsuki’s mouth. “My mom will be up soon.”

“What are you going to tell her to explain…” Katsuki gestured to the mess on his bed and his injured arm.

“I’ll think of something.” He kissed Katsuki on the back of the hand. “I’ll text you later, Kacchan.”

“Yeah, you better.” Katsuki stayed as close to Deku as he could without getting in the way, and he opened the window wide enough to let him out. Katsuki climbed through, smiling stupidly. He was so attracted to Deku it was ridiculous. He managed to tear away from the boy and leave, but paused at the sight of something.

“Deku.”

Deku stopped closing the window. “Hmm?”

“You said your mom has cameras?”

Deku poked his head out and looked at the security camera mounted on the side of the house. “Oh, yes, she’s been wanting to keep an eye on the fruits she’s started to grow. These pesky birds keep coming and plucking all the roots out of the ground and–”

“You’ve gotta find a way to delete the footage of me sneaking in.”

Deku paused, then made a noise that sounded like a muffled snort. He rubbed his nose and nodded. “Of course, Kacchan. I’ll get on that right away.”

                                                       

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

Katsuki got home just in the nick of time to avoid any suspicious questions from his parents. As he changed out of his clothes and into his uniform, his lips began to prickle, eager to feel Deku’s again. Now that he could think clearly once more, he cursed himself for even considering, let alone actually hurting the boy he was so enamoured with. He didn’t want to see him harmed or in distress, and it now became his life’s mission to ensure no turmoil came to Deku again.

 

Every step Katsuki took on the way to school, he thought of Deku. He had his phone in his hand, checking it routinely to see if he had any messages. There were none for a while, but eventually, he felt it vibrate, and he couldn’t help how his lips upturned when he saw Deku’s face in his notification picture.

[DEKU] - 07:43

Are you on your way to school, Kacchan?  („• ᴗ •„)

 

[YOU] - 07:43

yeah. how’s your arm?

 

[DEKU] - 07:43

It’s fine, Kacchan, please don’t worry. It doesn’t even hurt. You patched me up good (o´∀`o)

 

[YOU] - 07:44

i’m still sorry. that was fucked up what i did.

 

[DEKU] - 07:44

It’s ok!!! Now don’t say sorry again or I'm not deleting the footage (>ᴗ•)

 

[YOU] - 07:44

you evil bastard

 

[DEKU] - 07:44

Thats what you love about me!! ┌(^▽^)┘ 

 

[YOU] - 07:45

what did you tell your mom happened to you

 

[DEKU] - 07:46

I said I was out in the middle of the night practising parkour ( ._.)

 

[YOU] - 07:46

you nerd

 

[DEKU] - 07:46

What?? She believed it!!!

 

[YOU] - 07:46

she chew you out?

 

[DEKU] - 07:47

Yup. I think she thinks you’re having an influence on me ╮(￣ω￣;)╭

 

But she still likes you!!!

 

[YOU] - 07:47

well she’s not wrong. sucks you’ll miss the last day of school though

 

[DEKU] - 07:47

It’s fine. There won't be much to do. But tell your friends I said hi! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

 

[YOU] - 07:48

that might not happen. i’ve been a colossal asshole to them ever since we fought

 

[DEKU] - 07:48

Oh… well, if you’re thinking clearer, maybe you could make it up to them now?

 

[YOU] - 07:48

i’ll try.

 

[DEKU] - 07:49

I know you can do it, Kacchan!! You’re good friends ٩(◕‿◕)۶

 

[YOU] - 07:49

i’m nearly at school so i’ll tell you how it goes after

 

[DEKU] - 07:49

Alrighty I’ll let you go o( ❛ᴗ❛ )o

 

ACTUALLY WAIT one more thing!!!!

 

[YOU] - 07:50

yeah?

 

[DEKU] - 07:50

Um

I was thinking about our kiss all morning >////<

 

[YOU] - 07:50

oh really?

 

me too. i couldn't concentrate.

 

[DEKU] - 07:50

ASHFBKSDFKJ

 

That’s so cute!! o(≧▽≦)o

 

[YOU] - 07:50

shut up deku. you’re the one who needs some practice

 

[DEKU] - 07:51

Oh I’ll give you practice, Kacchan  (¬‿¬ )

Katsuki entered the school building feeling better after talking with Deku. His mood was already positive after knowing that he had made amends with him, but being able to speak with him casually, something he hadn’t done in what seemed like forever, uplifted him so much he felt like his heart would explode. He felt happy. So happy that when he stopped at his locker to change shoes, he didn’t even register that people were looking at him with bewildered expressions. It probably did look a little weird. Katsuki didn’t smile at school. That wasn’t who he was known to be. But just as Deku had been influenced, Katsuki was taking on the part of his boyfriend’s personality that didn’t care about other's opinions. The students thought he looked weird smiling? Well, he was smiling because he had the sweetest, most caring person in the world as his partner, so fuck them and what they thought.

 

When he closed his locker, Katsuki caught the eyes of his friends. He felt his heart drop in anxiousness, but even their faces changed when they saw Katsuki’s unusually upbeat demeanour. Their glares brightened up into a curious look, approaching him fearlessly.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” said Kaminari. His voice was still laced with a bit of caution, as if he was worried Katsuki might still blow up at him for trying to have a conversation. But instead, Katsuki felt his cheeks heat up, and he knew from the expressions on his friend's faces that they noticed his blushing, too.

“Kat, are you sick?” Mina cried. “Is that why you weren’t here yesterday? Why are you red?! You look like a tomato!”

Katsuki shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. “No, I’m– I’m not sick. Actually, I’m, uh…” He bowed down, becoming parallel with the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for being a dick. You guys… were just worried, and I threw it in your face. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me.”

Katsuki stayed in the apologetic position for a few seconds before feeling a steady hand on his shoulder. He straightened up and was immediately pulled into a firm hug; by the red hair in his peripherals, he knew it was Kirishima. Gingerly, he reciprocated, putting his hands on his friend’s back.

“You’re such a man for owning up to your mistakes, Bakugou!” Kirishima exclaimed, squeezing tightly. “Of course we forgive you, right guys?”

Katsuki heard sounds of agreement behind him. When the pressure on his ribs became a little too much, he tapped Kirishima on the shoulder, silently telling him to let go. The emotional boy stepped back, wiping small tears from his eyes.

“You know the offer still stands, right?” smiled Mina. “We do care. We want to help you, and you know you can tell us anything. So, can you explain why you’ve been such a grouch all week?”

 

Katsuki sighed. He knew that he would never be able to tell them everything. He would have to keep a few things to himself forever. But thanks to Deku, he had learned to open his heart to those that mattered.

“It was…”

“Did it have something to do with Midoriya?” Kaminari blurted out, causing both Jirou and Sero to elbow him in the side simultaneously.

“Let the guy speak, moron!” Sero scolded. 

Katsuki scoffed. “Is it that fucking obvious?” he muttered.

“Wait, it does involve Midoriya?”

“Yes. We had an argument. It doesn’t even matter what it was about because he didn’t do anything wrong. It was all me being a jackass.”

“Shocker,” deadpanned Jirou.

“But–” Katsuki continued, flashing a middle finger at her. “–we talked about…stuff. And we made up. So everything’s alright now. We’re both fine.”

“Made up or made out?” teased Mina. “You looked awfully cheerful when you got here. Perhaps you paid him a visit beforehand to give him one of these?” She pushed her lips into a kissing motion, and Katsuki poked her in the nose.

“Shut up.”

“Well, I’d like to hear it from Midoriya himself,” said Kaminari. “I still think you’re hiding something big from us.”

Katsuki’s stomach churned. He knew they had no way of knowing what he and Deku had actually done, but he was going to look real guilty if he kept everything sealed up. 

“Deku’s not coming today,” Katsuki replied. “He’s come down with something.”

“He’s sick?” Kirishima frowned. “That sucks. I hope he feels better soon.”

“Aw, checking up on little Deku? Aren’t you a good boyfriend,” Mina teased. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Don’t kill me, Katsu–”

“Yeah, I am.”

 

All five of Katsuki’s friends froze and stared at him in disbelief. Katsuki triumphantly crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged.

“What?” he smirked innocently. Mina’s eyebrows disappeared under her coily fringe, and she grabbed Katsuki’s arms violently.

“Is this a joke, Katsuki Bakugou?” she shrieked. “Are you fucking with me?! Are you and Midoriya dating?!”

“When did this happen?!” Kaminari shouted over her rocking Katsuki back and forth. “Was that what you were doing off school yesterday?”

“N-No, that was d-different,” stammered Katsuki, trying to ignore the frantic girl shaking him. “It was… well, last night, I guess.”

“Last night?!” Kirishima and Sero cried out in unison. 

“That recent?” Jirou looked impressed. “That explains why you looked like you’d just won the lottery when you came in today.”

Mina stopped shaking Katsuki and put her hands on her hips. “Well, I’m glad you told us. I would’ve ripped off your right arm if you tried to hide it.”

Katsuki rubbed his shoulder. “I don’t think Deku would’ve liked it if I kept us a secret either.”

“Is Midoriya really sick?” taunted Kaminari with a devious smile. “Maybe you and him had a bit too much fun last ni–”

Katsuki shoved him. “Don’t. You might’ve gotten an apology, but I’m not above punching you if you say some dumb shit, you bastard.”

The group laughed. It felt like everything had gone back to how it was. Their usual banter had returned.

“Hey, we’re gonna head off so we’re not late.” Sero, Jirou and Mina waved as they turned for the halls. “But this discussion is not over. I wanna know more about how you two got together. So we’ll see you after school?”

“Sure,” Katsuki nodded. “See ya.”

Kaminari looped his arm through Kirishima and Katsuki’s elbows and dragged them in the opposite direction to their homeroom. For once, Katsuki didn’t feel the urge to wriggle out of the hold.

 

“What were you talking about before I came over?” he asked Kirishima. His red eyes darted to the side nervously.

“Ah, well, it was some stuff my mum was complaining about,” he sighed, pushing his spiky hair up. “She was ranting to me this morning and it- it just hasn’t gotten out of my head. I mean, I don’t mind her venting to me, but sometimes it just gets a little much…”

“You wanna talk about it?” Kaminari suggested, to which Kirishima nodded.

“Well, she’s been assigned to this home invasion case,” he started. “A guy was killed in his house, and a ton of his stuff was destroyed. But it wasn’t typical damage that could’ve happened by accident. It was a bunch of his personal items, like his computer and stuff.”

Katsuki fought to keep his face neutral, but on the inside, his heart raced. Is this the…?

“And he was a journalist too, so the information that was corrupted was related to an open investigation.”

 

Katsuki stopped walking in shock. Kirishima’s mother was working on Deku’s murder. That was both bad and good. Bad because she was a sharp cop who was good at her job and seemed to be one of the few detectives who genuinely seemed to care about following through with her position fairly. If she was on Deku’s trail, Katsuki doubted he would get away with it. However, it was good because now Katsuki might have a way to follow the case through Kirishima. He wasn’t sure how he could keep bringing it up without arousing suspicion, though.

His two friends noticed that he had frozen up a few steps behind them, and they turned around, concerned.

“You alright, Bakugou?” wondered Kirishima. “Sorry, we don’t have to talk about this if–”

“No, no.” He walked up to the duo. “I just remembered something my mom told me,” he lied. “Keep going, Kirishima.”

Kirishima gave him a quizzical look before shrugging. “OK. So, anyway, you know about the bad side of Hase, right? The poorer parts with all the gangs and murder?”

Keeping a straight face, Katsuki nodded along with Kaminari. 

“It turns out that there’s a rumour that a person was using some kind of dark web forum to find the identities of people who lived there and kill them. And my mom told me that this journalist guy was closing in on them after a few years, but he was killed, and his evidence was destroyed to stop him from exposing someone.”

“Whoa, really?” gasped Kaminari. “That’s insane! And they’d been getting away with it for so long?”

“It was because the people that were targeted were all criminals and people that no one was campaigning for,” Kirishima explained. “So many of their cases got overlooked and not taken seriously. But here’s the big thing– she was actually assigned to this case after someone else gave it up for lack of evidence.”

“A lack of evidence?” Katsuki repeated. “So they don’t know who was after the journalist?”

“Not yet,” grinned Kirishima. “Yesterday, my mom was having another look at the crime scene and a little bit outside the area and found something. Some kind of fabric that didn’t look like it belonged.”

Katsuki’s heart was thumping dangerously hard in his chest, and he fought to keep his voice steady. “So, is she gonna use that to find out who did it?”

“She doesn’t know for sure that it’s related. It could literally just be a random piece of fabric. But the theory is that since the evidence was destroyed and it wasn’t just an isolated murder, they think that the person who killed him and the person who’s been following through with the forum requests are the same. So my mom’s been picking up everything that could help her.”

 

Keeping his feelings bottled was like second nature to Katsuki. But as he listened to what the circumstances around Deku’s murder were, he was struggling to keep his composure. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was that the stars had aligned in his favour like this. He knew the details of the case and had an opportunity to do something to save Deku. But there was one problem. Katsuki would have to find a way to retrieve the piece of glove and destroy it without getting caught. And he was good at sneaking around, sure, but that was in the slums. A secure police station was going to be almost impossible.

“So, has she sent it away for analysis?” Kaminari inquired. He was listening along with extreme interest. So was Katsuki, but for very different reasons.

Kirishima bit his lip. “Well, the thing is…” He put his fist against his forehead, like he was debating with himself if he should continue. “Ugh, I really shouldn’t have told you as much as I have. I was just so excited to have Bakugou back that I kept talking.”

“Aw, come on, you can’t leave us on a cliffhanger, dude!” whined Kaminari. “We’ll keep our mouths shut, right Bakugou?”

Katsuki kept his lips firmly sealed, but he nodded, forcing his face to look as encouraging as possible. Come on, Kirishima. Give in to peer pressure.

Kirishima groaned. “OK, OK.  But you gotta promise not to tell anyone. My mom will get super mad at me.”

“You have our word!” Kaminari made a zipping motion across his lips.

“Alright… well… My mom hasn’t actually turned the evidence in. She’s keeping it in her office at home.”

Katsuki’s eyebrows raised high. “What?”

“Yeah, it’s a huge no when it comes to investigations to take evidence home, but… My mom got the case because the other detectives didn’t really care about solving it. They were saying that the killer was keeping the ‘vermin’ population down. They don’t want to catch the person because they’re only going after the bad people in the poor area.”

Katsuki couldn’t believe his ears. Is that also why I’ve gotten away with this for so long? Most cops don’t care about arresting me since I’m killing people they want gone anyway?

“My mom took the fabric home so it wouldn’t get thrown out or discarded. She worked on the case all evening yesterday, and I think she just wants to solve it herself so no one tries to stop her. I don’t know how she’s going to do it, but… she’s been chasing down this person for so long. I think it’s driven her a little crazy.”

Katsuki didn’t say another word as the three of them entered their homeroom. He could hear that Kirishima was still talking, but none of his sentences registered in his head. Katsuki was formulating a plan. He could help Deku. He had to, for his sake. He couldn’t potentially let all his crimes be pinned on Deku. And with what he had learned from Kirishima, Katsuki knew he had a chance to do it.

 

A vibration against his thigh broke him out of his trance. Deku texted him again, unconsciously bringing a broad smile to Katsuki’s face.

[DEKU] - 08:07

Did you tell everyone that I’m off school because I’m ill? That’s so funny, Kacchan (*ﾉωﾉ)

 

[YOU] - 08:07

maybe

 

[DEKU] - 08:07

Well, at least I know everything went over well with them d(°∀°d)

 

[YOU] - 08:07

what are they saying

 

[DEKU] - 08:08

Nosy

 

[YOU] - 08:08

???

 

[DEKU] - 08:08

They’ve just been wishing I get better (￣︶￣)

 

[YOU] - 08:08

good

 

[DEKU] - 08:09

Although… I wonder how they’d feel if they knew it was you who made me so “sick” ;)

 

Katsuki fumbled and dropped his phone on the floor with a loud thud. He tried to hide his flustered face as he bent down to pick it up and then shakily took his seat. Katsuki’s mind was already running, thinking of a plot to recover the evidence against Deku and destroy it.

 

He had to save him. It was the least he could do.

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

In any other scenario than the one he was in, Katsuki would have commended Akane Kirishima for being a righteous person and pursuing justice in the way law enforcement should. But the selfish part of him overrode that respect. Katsuki couldn’t let Deku take the fall and go down for all the murders he committed.

It was weird to be staking out the Kirishima house. Katsuki had been over many times since he first met Kirishima as a child, but it wasn’t a place he knew overly well. He was watching it from afar, waiting for the last light to go out. It was close to two when the house was finally enveloped in darkness, and Katsuki began thinking about how he would approach this challenge. 

 

Even in his earliest memories, Katsuki recalled one room he and Kirishima were forbidden from entering: his mother’s office. Akane was very adamant that neither of the young boys were allowed to step foot in there because it was “inappropriate” for children. As an adult now, Katsuki was certain that it was filled with graphic police work and that she was probably protecting them from being traumatised by it. It was meritorious for sure, but it also gave Katsuki a clear vision of where the evidence was.

Katsuki had changed into his dark attire once more. The black clothing covering his body and face did an excellent job of keeping the bitingly cold air off his skin. Hopefully, if everything went according to plan, it would be the last time he ever had to wear it.

 

It felt like a peculiar change of scenery– sneaking around a well-off neighbourhood instead of a poor one, and breaking into the home of a person Katsuki knew instead of a stranger. And, of course, he had no intent of harming anyone. All his actions were to help a person close to him instead. Someone who had done so much with so little in return. It was imperative that Katsuki succeed.

Once a reasonable amount of time had passed since the lights were switched off, Katsuki emerged from his hideout and began slinking in the shadows as he got closer to Kirishima’s house. There were some cameras that he made sure to steer clear of, but he knew it was more likely for him to get caught on video in this part of town. So he kept his head low and made sure to never expose his face to any of them. Katsuki couldn’t let his identity be discovered. He didn’t have a bulletproof defence if he was witnessed breaking into a house at this hour.

 

Katsuki knew where Kirishima’s room was and how to get in. Like his house, there was a large tree they had planted as kids that had grown tall enough to reach his window on the second floor. But unlike Katsuki’s tree, the jump between the branches and the window ledge was not as easy. The fall wasn’t far, but if he failed the leap, he would make a loud noise hitting the ground and could potentially wake someone up. So he had one shot to make it from the tree to the window.

Deku would do this with no sweat, he lamented. That loser is so much better at this than me.

Recalling what he remembered from watching Deku soar over the last few months, Katsuki gauged the distance he would have to jump and pushed off from the tree in a position he had copied from Deku. Katsuki kept his body tucked in except for his arms, which he let fly behind him before bringing them back around in front to grab onto the windowsill. He had executed it perfectly and was now able to pull himself up and open the unlocked window, slipping noiselessly into the room.

 

This was Kirishima’s room, a place he hadn’t been in a while. In the corner was the boy himself, sleeping soundly and not stirring at all as Katsuki carefully closed the window behind him. Then he tiptoed over the carpet towards the door and snuck into the hallway. He remembered that Akane’s office was at the back of the house, so he crept down the corridor, remembering the layout of the home he hadn’t stepped foot in for many years.

Then Katsuki saw it—the door that had brought about so many conversations with his childhood friend, wondering what was in the room that they were both banned from entering. And it looked like it had changed a little. As a child, the door was shut with a key that Akane kept high out of reach. But now, it seemed she had upgraded, as there was an electronic lock on the handle with a screen that prompted a four-digit code. Katsuki clicked his tongue.

Shit. What can the code be?

 

His first instinct was it could be an important date, since that’s what most people set their passwords as. Not Katsuki. His phone’s password had been all ones for about five years - previously, it was all zeros, but he had to change that after Kaminari watched him put it in – and he didn’t know enough about the Kirishima’s to know what dates were important to them.

If it’s a birthday, it could be either her wife’s or her son’s… I know Kirishima’s birthday, but I don’t have a fucking clue about the others.

He wasn’t sure how the lock worked. Was it going to let out a loud noise if he got it incorrect? Would it shut itself off if he put in too many wrong attempts? But Katsuki wasn’t going to be blessed with endless time. He was about to just start with Kirishima’s birthday when he paused. The surface looked like it was made of glass. Katsuki reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Replacing the knife he usually brought with him, Katsuki had instead relinquished it for a small torch. Now, with the light shining, Katsuki could see three numbers with thumbprints smudged against the glass: one, six and zero.

He smirked. October 16. Katsuki punched in Kirishima’s birthday, and the door unlocked. He pushed it open smugly. I was right. Guess it was better to be safe than sorry.

 

Inside, the office was blander than he had imagined, but Katsuki ultimately blamed his childlike imagination for running away from him. The office was just a desk and a bookshelf, but wheeled in the middle was a giant whiteboard with photos of murders he was familiar with, connected together with threads of red string. There were a lot of photos of crime scenes, but Katsuki noted that there wasn’t anything Akane had that could link to a suspect. Nothing on the whiteboard related to him or Deku. So, she must not have started any analysis on the glove yet. Lucky us.

On the desk were dozens of files and boxes, all labelled as confidential. Katsuki sifted through the papers and dug through the mess to find the torn piece of the glove but came up empty. Then he began searching through the drawers, opening them all the way so he could see all the contents. He was keeping an ear out for any signs of movement, but for now, the house was silent.

Then, Katsuki saw a small bag buried under a mountain of paperwork at the bottom of the drawer. He pulled out the plastic bag with an ‘evidence’ sticker on it. It was a piece of woollen fabric. Katsuki had brought the rest of the intact glove with him—he realised after returning from Deku’s house that he had taken it by accident—and matched the ripped shape to confirm. This was the evidence Deku had left behind. And Katsuki was going to destroy it.

 

Katsuki quickly stood up and closed all the drawers, not bothering to clean up the strewn papers since it was going to be obvious someone was in the room since the glove was missing. Wait, then why did I even close the drawers? Katsuki shook his head and pushed open the slightly ajar door, ready to head out with his mission a success. Then, at the end of the hallway, he saw the broad figure of Kirishima pacing slowly down the hallway. Katsuki stopped dead and spun around back into Akane’s office, listening for the footsteps. Had Kirishima seen him? The receding sound of him walking said no. Slowly, he poked his head out into the corridor and saw Kirishima sleepily close the door to the bathroom. Katsuki breathed a quick sigh of relief. Using this opportunity, he quickly sprinted down the hall, keeping his feet light, and hopped out the way he came in. Not looking back, he escaped back to the safety of the bushes, feeling for the evidence bag he’d shoved in his pocket. A smile upturned on Katsuki’s lips. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Deku’s face when it burned.

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

[KIRISHIMA] - 10:28

GUYS

 

[KAMINARI] - 10:28

?

 

[ASHIDO] - 10:28

whut

 

[KIRISHIMA] - 10:28

SPMEONE BROKE INTO MY HOUSE

 

[DEKU] - 10:28

What??

 

[JIROU] - 10:28

omg?? is this fr??

 

[KIRISHIMA] - 10:29

IM SO SRS

 

[YOU] - 10:29

what happened

 

[ASHIDO] - 10:29

ARE U AND UR MOMS OK WTF?????

 

[KIRISHIMA] - 10:30

We’re all fine here LMAO but some of my mom’s stuff relating to her case went missing so she’s mad asf rn

 

[SERO] - 10:30

Omg whatttt

 

[KAMINARI] - 10:31

KIRI ON MY MAMA I SWEAR I DIDN’T TELL ANYONE

 

[KIRISHIMA] - 10:32

IK IK DONT WORRY I know it couldn't have been you or anyone I told

 

My mom thinks it was a criminal or someone undercover who wanted to stop her from pursuing her perp

 

[SERO] - 10:33

Did u call the police?

 

[KIRISHIMA] - 10:33

Yea but they weren’t much help :/

 

[YOU] - 10:33

don’t you have cameras?

 

[KIRISHIMA] - 10:34

WE DO AND MY MOM LITERALLY TOOK THEM DOWN YESTERDAY FOR THIS EXACT REASON. BC SHE WANTED TO SWAP THEM FOR BETTER ONES. BUT NOW WE HAVE NOTHING 

 

[SERO] - 10:35

BROO that’s so fucked upp

 

[DEKU] - 10:35

I'm so sorry that happened to you, Kirishima!! (｡╯︵╰｡)  I hope you're ok!!

 

[KIRISHIMA] - 10:36

LOL guys I’m fine I just feel bad for my mom she’s gonna get in a lot of shit for taking files home

 

[ASHIDO] - 10:36

want us to come over and cheer u up?

 

[KIRISHIMA] - 10:38

I can't have guests over bc of the cops but we could all meet somewhere else?

 

[KAMINARI] - 10:38

YESSSS

 

[JIROU] - 10:38

this afternoon?

 

[ASHIDO] - 10:38

THAT WORKS!!!

 

[SERO] - 10:39

Come to mine I’ll give ur mom some wine so she can drink her troubles away

 

[KAMINARI] - 10:39

LOL

 

[YOU] - 10:39

pass

 

[ASHIDO] - 10:39

LAAAMEE

 

[DEKU] - 10:40

I’ll have to miss out this time too, sorry Kirishima! 

 

[KIRISHIMA] - 10:40

All good dude! They’ll be other times!!

 

[KAMINARI] - 10:40

bakubro and midoriya are both skipping???? Totally not a coincidence

 

[ASHIDO] - 10:40

something is abrewing

 

[YOU] - 10:40

all of you die

 

except deku

 

[DEKU] - 10:40

^-^

 

[SERO] - 10:41

GAY

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

“Dear, we don’t have long before we have to go take over the store–”

“We have time. Oi, brat, for the last time, what are we not allowed to say in front of this boy?”

“Call him Izuku, not Deku, that’s my goddamn name for him. Don’t show him any fucking pictures of me as a kid, don’t ask him weird questions, don’t say anything corny, and don’t–”

An eager rapping at the door interrupted Katsuki’s instructions. He froze and smoothed out his shirt. It was just a casual one, comical even. It had a giant grey skull printed on the front. But Katsuki still wanted to look good for Deku.

 

“I’ve got it,” he called out, running to the door to greet the guest. Before he turned the door handle, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Deku was finally going to be meeting his parents. Something he’d been waiting to do for too long. This introduction was long overdue, and Katsuki wasn’t going to fuck it up. He opened the mahogany door and instantly felt his skittish mood dissipate at Deku’s wide eyes. He was also dressed casually, in a light blue shirt that read ‘shirt’ and jeans that were so long they draped over his vibrant red shoes. Katsuki stepped aside and let Deku walk in.

“Good to see you, nerd,” he whispered in Deku’s ear. The younger boy giggled nervously as he swapped his sneakers for a pair of slippers and the two footsteps of Katsuki’s parents approached the foyer.

“Izuku!” smiled Mitsuki, holding her arms out welcomingly. Deku beamed as she embraced him in a friendly hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Katsuki’s been hiding you from us for so damn long!”

Katsuki groaned. “You’re gonna crush him, old hag. This is why I kept him away.”

Mitsuki let Deku go, ruffling his hair endearingly. “See how he talks to me, Izuku? I’m not sure what you see in this kid.”

Deku chuckled and then turned to Masaru, lowering his head politely. “It’s very nice to meet you both.”

“We’re happy to have you in our home, Izuku,” Masaru said, checking his watch. “I’m afraid this was the only time we had to meet you this week as we’re busy, so our chat will have to be brief.”

“That’s OK!” replied Deku. “I’m just happy you made space in your busy schedule to meet me!”

“Of course,” agreed Mitsuki. “We’ve been wanting to know who was responsible for making our son act like a lovesick child.”

Katsuki choked on a breath and coughed, turning red in the face. “Mom!”

“What?! You have! You’ve just been going on and on about ‘Deku’ , and we haven’t been able to get you to shut up about it!” She had a devilish grin on her face that clearly said she was enjoying riling Katsuki up. Deku was also looking embarrassed, but he was smiling too, obviously happy that he was now being mentioned to Katsuki’s parents and not being kept a secret.

“I told you not to say anything–” Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Deku, go upstairs. I’ll join you in a sec.”

“Oh, OK!” Deku bowed at Katsuki’s parents again. “Nice to meet you! I hope I can talk with you more in the future!”

“You’re always welcome here. Thank you for softening Katsuki’s heart,” said Mitsuki.

 

Deku seemed a little stunned at that praise, but his face remained cheerful as he disappeared up the stairs. Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest.

“Funny, Mom,” he muttered. “Hilarious, even.”

Mitsuki smiled triumphantly. “It’s true though, isn’t it? You’ve been so much happier with him in your life. I hope you tell Izuku that. He’s a good kid and deserves to be appreciated.”
“Yeah, you don’t gotta tell me twice,” sighed Katsuki. “I know. He… I really don’t deserve him.”

“Sure you do.” Mitsuki put her hands on Katsuki’s tensed shoulders. “If it feels right, be together. He clearly adores you.”

“Alright.” Katsuki stepped back, facing the stairs. “Isn’t it about time you two left for the store?”

“Don’t think that because you’ve got a boyfriend now, you’ll be getting out of running the shop,” his mother shot back. “Christmas is always fuckin’ busy. You’re lucky you’ve even got today.”

“I know.” He was about to leave without another word, let his parents walk out the door while he rejoined Deku. But right as he heard their keys jingling, Katsuki turned around.

“Hey, Mom. Dad.”

They both stopped and looked at him, curious. “What, Katsuki?”

Katsuki sighed resignedly. “I’m sorry for… being an asshole while Deku and I were fighting. I’m gonna be better. I won’t take my shit out on you anymore.”

The eyes of both his mother and father softened. “It’s alright, son,” Masaru replied. “You’re a strong boy. And you know you can always come to us if you need to.”

Katsuki nodded. “Also…” His throat became bone dry as he tried to force the last words out. His parents looked at him curiously, having no clue what he was about to say.

“I… l-love you. Both of you. And I know I don’t ever say it, but I figured I’d better fucking start now because–”

An overwhelming hug from Mitsuki cut off Katsuki, almost knocking him onto his ass, and he had to grab the railing of the stairs so he didn’t topple over. He balanced himself and then hugged his mother back. Masaru joined them as well, wrapping his long arms around the two blonds and squeezing tightly.

“We love you too,” Mitsuki mumbled into his shoulder, voice shaking with disbelief. “You’re such a strange fucking kid. You like one boy, and all of a sudden, you start acting like you’ve lost your marbles. What’s he done to you, eh?” 

Katsuki’s parents bid him farewell, leaving him with genuine smiles for the first time in a while. Katsuki had to sniff back a few tears before opening the door to his room, where Deku was sitting on the bed. Not that he had been crying, of course.

 

“Interrogation’s over, Kacchan?” Deku asked, crossing his legs and placing his hands in his lap.

“Yep.” He walked over to the mattress and sat beside Deku, leaning his head against his shoulder. Deku wrapped one of his arms around his waist and pulled him in.

“Are you glad I met your parents?” he whispered.

“Yeah. When they’re less busy, they’ll wanna have dinner. Like what your mom did.”

Deku grinned. “My mom would love to meet your parents. Let’s organise a night for them all to get together!”

“After Christmas,” Katsuki grumbled, burying his head into Deku’s shoulder. “I’m still nervous to face your mom. Does she know we’re dating?”

“I haven’t told her specifically,” Deku admitted. “But I think she has her theories.”

“You should tell her.”

“I will.”

 

Katsuki stood up and stretched. “Well, go on. I know you’ve been wondering–”

“Did you find it?” Deku blurted out. “Have they started analysis on my glove yet? Or is it still missing? What did you do after–”

Katsuki kissed his blabbering mouth quickly to quiet him down. “Shh. Don’t you want to see with your own eyes?”

Deku watched silently as Katsuki ruffled under his bed, pushing past all the gear he had once used for his own crimes. Underneath his abandoned jacket was the evidence bag, along with the intact piece of the glove Deku had given him. The boy’s emerald eyes widened in apprehension when he saw them.

“This isn’t going to bother you any more, Deku. Not ever again.” Katsuki walked over to his desk and pulled out the plastic trash bin he usually used for recycling. It had been cleared out yesterday, so Katsuki picked it up and showed Deku that it was empty.

“Kacchan…” Deku stared at him intensely as he pulled out a lighter and lit the glove on fire. The woollen material caught alight and rapidly burned through the thin fabric, letting the odour of singed hair fill the room. Katsuki had opened his window in anticipation of this, so it quickly wafted outside. He kept the flame close to his hand until both pieces of the glove were reduced to nothing but a pile of ash in the bin.

“There.” Katsuki dropped the lighter on his desk, flicking the last remnants of the cinders off his fingers. “It’s fucking gone. You don’t have to worry now, Deku.”

Deku trembled with ecstasy, his eyes almost reflecting the golden glow of the blaze. “You’re so kind to me. You didn’t have to do this. How did– How did you even find it?”

“Kirishima’s mom,” he answered. “She was the one working on your case, and she had it in her office. I stole it last night.”

Deku’s lips parted. “You… you’re the one who…”

“Yeah. I broke into his house to get it back.”

“But–” Deku shook his head. “That must’ve been so risky… you could’ve gotten caught… wait, Kirishima said they were getting new cameras? Is that why you waited for them to swap them over? Kacchan, you’re so clever–”

“Actually…” Katsuki took Deku’s warm hands in his own, tracing along his fingers and feeling every bump in his knuckles. “I didn’t even know about that. I didn’t realise their cameras were off. I just avoided them like I normally would.”

“Wh– Kacchan…”

He winked. “Lucky me, right?”

Deku gripped against Katsuki’s palm. “You did it knowing you could’ve been… Oh my God.”

 

Katsuki pulled Deku in closer until their legs were all but tangled together. “I would do anything for you. I would. Not even just to repay you. I just can’t… live without you… Izuku.”

Overwhelmed, Deku just looked up at Katsuki, eyes getting watery and lip wobbling.  

“Something’s been missing from my life for so long,” confessed Katsuki, trying to keep his own lips stable. “I thought I had to chase that thrill of seeing people die in order to survive. But I have a new obsession, a new way to live normally, and it’s you. I’ve completely given myself to you, and I would give up the world to make you happy. There is no high I could experience on this earth greater than the one I feel when I'm with you. I want to be with you every moment until I die. And if a day ever comes without the promise of you, Izuku, I want no part of it.”

 

Deku was sobbing now, and he let Katsuki wipe the rivulets of tears streaming down his face. He liked being allowed to do it, because he wanted to be the only one to touch Deku in this manner. Killing used to be like breathing to Katsuki, but now loving Deku was as necessary to his life as oxygen.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Katsuki soothed. “I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I-I’m not upset,” sniffed Deku. “Kacchan, how could I be upset? All I’ve ever wanted was to be accepted by someone. To know a person that could welcome every part of me with open arms. And I finally met you. So now… I’m never going to let you go.”

Katsuki bent down a little to be at eye level with Deku. “You have me. I belong to you. You taught me how to love again.”

“I belong to you too,” Deku said, voice breaking. His shaky tone forced a few tears to slip out of Katsuki’s ruby eyes as well. “If I taught you how to love… then you taught me how to live, Kacchan. How to live and experience things I never thought I’d have the chance to do. I– I love you.”

Katsuki placed his forehead against Deku’s, feeling both their fringes mesh together. “I… love… you too.” 

 

It was the first time those words had left Katsuki’s lips. He was so much better at expressing himself through actions. But he truly loved Deku enough to be able to destroy that barrier, that wall he had built to hide his true emotions. And even if his speech was reserved, the weight of his words were genuine. Katsuki knew that Deku understood his feelings when he placed a feverish kiss against his lips, and he could feel his mouth smile unintentionally as he kissed back deeper.

Katsuki wrapped his arms around Deku tightly and picked him up, and the younger boy yelped against his mouth. Katsuki pulled back and laughed, dropping Deku onto the bed with a plonk. Katsuki crawled beside him, reaching for his face and settling on brushing the green locks from his eyes. 

“You’re so pretty,” Deku whispered.

“Shut up. You’re the gorgeous one,” he retorted. He grabbed a fistful of Deku’s hair and dived in to devour his lips again, pressing harder and flicking his tongue across Deku’s mouth, eager for access. He obliged, parting his lips and letting Katsuki in, shivering as he explored every part of his mouth, dragging his tongue over his teeth. Deku slipped his tongue in as well, but a lot more hesitantly. Katsuki sensed his nerves and pulled back, looking at his flickering green eyes.

“Izuku. We don’t have to do this.”

Deku gasped breathily. “I– No, I want to. I’m… I just don’t want to mess it up.”
“You won’t.” Katsuki brushed the back of his hand across his cheek. “And even if you do. I don’t care. I just want to do this with you.”

A curious expression appeared on Deku’s face. “Kacchan… do you…?”

“I want you,” he urged. “I really, really do. But we don't have to go any further than kissing if you don’t feel comfortable.”

Deku closed his eyes as the blush on his face deepened. “Well… I think maybe I’d like… to go a little further. B-But not too much.”

Katsuki kissed his nose. “I can work with that.” The red on his face made his freckles so visible that Katsuki could count them from where he was. The constellations of dots on his cheeks spread down his neck and under the collar of his light blue shirt. Katsuki wondered how far across his skin they went.

“Kacchan,” Deku panted. “Have you… gone further than this before?”

Katsuki traced one of his fingers on the hem of Deku’s shirt. “No. I haven’t liked anyone until you.

A dark shadow seemed to cloud over Deku’s face, filled with a possessive stare. Under his touch, Katsuki also felt his pulse rapidly speed up.

“That’s good,” Deku asserted. “Because I really want to be the first.”

Katsuki’s mouth dropped open, and Deku kissed him, immediately slipping his tongue in and tightening his embrace. Katsuki collected himself as best he could, holding onto Deku’s biceps and pushing the two of them over so he was on top of him, straddling his torso.

 

“Izuku.” Katsuki pinched the fabric of Deku’s shirt. “Do you want… to take these off?”

His viridian eyes grew in size, still glimmering with obsession, and he nodded vigorously. “Yes. Please. Will you, too?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki put his hands behind his back and tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor without a second thought. Deku darted his eyes over his bare chest. Katsuki knew he was well-built, and he felt his heart fill with pride at the loving stare. He smirked and grabbed the bottom of Deku’s shirt.

“Like what you see?” Deku didn’t have a chance to respond before Katsuki lifted his shirt up, wriggling it from under his back and letting it drop to the ground. The chill of winter made a few goosebumps prick up on both their bodies. The brown bracelet on Katsuki’s right wrist stood out against his pale complexion. Deku was obviously smaller than him, but his tanned skin and toned stomach made Katsuki’s mouth water. And just as he suspected, Deku had freckles everywhere.

“Kacchan,” he whispered. “How are you real?”

Katsuki chuckled. “No clue. Wanna double-check that I am?”

Deku beamed, reaching his hands up to cup Katsuki’s face and bring him down to meet his lips. They were tender and soft, but Katsuki quickly pressed against them forcefully, exhaling loudly through his nose. He swiped his tongue against Deku’s closed mouth, asking permission, and he complied. Katsuki felt hot all over, even with the cool air. He knew the room would start to heat up if they kept going as they were.

Deku broke away first, staring at Katsuki through his long eyelashes. He ran his calloused hands over Katsuki’s thighs. “You’re a bit heavy,” he giggled.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Am I crushing you?”

“No, no–”

Ignoring him, Katsuki leaned in close and flipped them again so Deku was now sitting on his stomach. A shrill but short yelp came out of Deku’s mouth.

“Kacchan! I didn’t say do that!” he cried.

Katsuki snickered,  sitting up slightly and pressing a kiss against his warm chest. “You don’t like this?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth!” he pouted.

“I can put other things in your–”

Deku shut him up by leaning down and kissing him, and Katsuki laughed against his lips. An embarrassed Deku was so much more fun to joke with. But his perfect lips, melding with Katsuki’s, relit a spark in his gut, and he locked his arms around Deku’s back, forcing him to stay low.

“Kacchan,” Deku breathed, uttering his name like a prayer.

Katsuki moved his hands to grip his waist, eliciting a high whine. “Katsuki,” he hissed. “Say my name.”

“Ah…!” Deku gasped. “I-I don’t know if I…” He trailed off as Katsuki nibbled against his jawline.

“I want to hear you say it,” Katsuki growled, leaning into his ear and biting down on the soft skin underneath the lobe.

Deku grit his teeth. “K… K-Katsuki.”

A roaring ball of fire erupted in Katsuki’s stomach. “So good,” he praised. “Say it more. Please.”

Deku shifted under his touch, fingernails for sure leaving marks against his back. “Katsuki. Please kiss me.”

Katsuki complied, moving his hands from Deku’s hips to hook his fingers through the loops of his pants and tugging him forward. There wasn’t a hint of space between the two of them now. Legs tangled, arms wrapped around each other, and lips melding together like either boy would die if they dared break for a second.

 

The sight, sound, and feel of Deku would be etched into Katsuki’s mind forever. There was no possibility that he’d forget this night for as long as he lived. But despite that, he still made a conscious effort to remember. Katsuki wouldn’t misrecall any details about Deku, even the most minute ones.

When Katsuki did have to take a breath, his fierce possession over Deku didn’t fade. “You’re mine,” he uttered lowly. 

Deku let out a soft moan at his words, face completely red and a trail of saliva still connecting his and Katsuki’s mouth. “I want… to be…” he managed to pant out.

“You want to be what?” Katsuki prompted, going back to Deku’s neck and sucking on his skin, ensuring that there would be a physical mark to prove that Deku was his.

“Yours…Katsuki…” sighed Deku, the end of his words pitching up. 

The unbridled love Katsuki felt for Deku was an untamable blaze inside him. The coil in his gut was getting tenser and tenser. And when he kissed Deku again, he felt a bit more authority coming from the younger boy.

Katsuki relinquished some of his control and let Deku lean to the side so he was no longer straddling him. Their limbs were still knotted together, and Deku began pushing back some of Katsuki’s sand-coloured hair to reveal his red face.

“So, so gorgeous,” mused Deku, mostly to himself. He looked to be locked in his own trance of admiring Katsuki, not noticing when he tried to lean in and kiss him again. 

“Izuku,” he tried to say, but the boy kept his eyes fastened on him, cherishing every inch of his features. It made Katsuki feel red hot under his gaze, 

Then, Deku placed his lips against Katsuki’s, making him squeeze his eyes shut and embrace the blindness of removing his sight, letting the thrilling feeling of Deku’s lips on his own engulf Katsuki. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Deku had moved to be looming above him, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear only for it to fall down again.

“Kac– Katsuki, I love you so much,” whispered Deku, moving Katsuki’s chin up with a finger so he had access to his neck. Where Katsuki was demanding, Deku was featherlike as his lips hovered over the burning skin, and Katsuki ached to be kissed.

“Please,” he begged. He felt Deku’s mouth curl up at his plea, and he was merciful. Deku lay quick and tender kisses on Katsuki’s neck, letting soft whimpers escape Katsuki’s mouth. The feel of his lips was so gentle, so pure that it almost brought him to tears. Never in his life did Katsuki think he would have found love so perfect.

Deku sat up and kissed Katsuki with meaning, hands tangled up in his hair. Katsuki kissed back frantically. “I fucking love you,” he sniffed, embracing Deku in a one-armed hug that let him hear his thumping heartbeat. “Izuku, I’m– I love…”

“Shh,” consoled Deku, kissing him in return, a lot sweeter. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you too.”

Katsuki didn’t know how long they went on that night. He could only remember tiring out alongside Deku, going from kissing to laughing to laying in silence until they eventually fell asleep. They didn’t need to have a long conversation about their feelings. Everything that needed to be said was conveyed perfectly through their acts of devotion and how passionately they loved each other. Katsuki and Deku could hear each other’s desires in their souls. So when they both drifted into a slumber, there were no signs of doubt or uneasiness over what their relationship was anymore. They didn’t need anyone else’s approval but their own. And as both had realised, they accepted every facet of each other unapologetically, forever.

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Katsuki and Izuku walked up to Mina’s house, hand in hand. Izuku was in charge of holding onto the presents, carrying them in a large gift bag over his shoulder. Katsuki was holding a bottle of wine as compensation for Mina’s parents, who were allowing them to have a small Christmas as friends the day before the actual holiday. They were both bundled up for the cold weather; Izuku had insisted that they both wear matching scarfs that his mother made since they were ‘warmer than that piece of cardboard he used as a scarf’. Katsuki didn’t appreciate the description, but the scarf Inko made was undeniably more comfortable.

 

Kaminari answered the door, already dressed in red. He had a hat with a pom-pom on it that he kept brushing out of his face, grinning as he pulled both boys inside.

“Oi!” Katsuki exclaimed. “I’m holdin’ a fucking glass bottle, asshole!”

“You’re late!” came a high-pitched voice. Katsuki rolled his eyes. Mina, along with the rest of the group, were sitting around a small Christmas tree, all decked out in festive colours. Katsuki felt a hat being pulled over his head, and he groaned, shoving it above his fringe.

“Did ya have to dress up like a bunch of candy canes?” he grumbled.

Izuku, who had also been given a hat to wear, giggled and joined the circle, pulling the gifts out and placing them under the tree. “Get into your Christmas spirit, Kacchan!”

 

Katsuki joined the circle, sitting next to Izuku. He watched Katsuki put the bottle of wine safely to the side and then climbed onto his lap, sitting on his crossed legs. Katsuki watched with surprise before adjusting himself so he could sit comfortably, arms lopped around Izuku and chin resting on his shoulder.

“Stop stalling!” cried Mina. “I’ve been waiting for these boyfriends for too long! I want to open my presents!”

Sero rolled his eyes and passed her a wrapped box, which Mina proceeded to tear open violently. “It is kind of shocking to see that you two are actually together. I mean, I believed you and all, but this is the first time I’ve seen it.”

“Yeah, Midoriya, Bakugou is never this touchy with anyone,” observed Kirishima. “He must like you a lot.”

Izuku could only let out a brisk laugh, but Katsuki squeezed his arms around him tighter. “You’re all nasty as fuck. Deku’s not just my partner; he’s my best friend. I’d never get this close to you extras.”

“Rude!” Mina threw a scrunched-up piece of paper at him, which Izuku caught. “Don’t become one of those losers who forget their friends because they start dating someone!”

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Izuku chuckled. His cheeks had gone a vivid shade of red after he heard the words ‘best friend’ come from Katsuki. It didn’t make him nervous to say anymore. He’d shout that Izuku was the person closest to him from the rooftops.

 

Eventually, it was time for Katsuki’s gift to be given to Izuku. He hopped off his lap and picked it up from the miniature Christmas tree, slowly ripping the paper. Katsuki huffed.

“You don’t have to be careful, you damn nerd.”

“But it’s been wrapped so nicely, Kacchan!” he protested. Katsuki sighed exasperatedly and tore off a huge chunk, revealing what was inside. Izuku didn’t even have a chance to chastise him for the forceful action because his eyes were locked on the object in his hands. It was a sketchbook. Katsuki’s sketchbook.

“Go on,” he urged. The others were all talking amongst themselves. There was no one paying attention to them. “Open it.”

With shaky hands, Izuku flipped through the pages. From cover to cover, there were drawings of him. All his features had been lovingly sketched by Katsuki over the last few months. Izuku looked up, communicating with his eyes. Katsuki understood how he felt without any words. He knew how much Izuku loved knowing that he was the one who made Katsuki act so obsessed and yearned over him deeply. And Katsuki loved telling him how much Izuku consumed his thoughts, because his cute freckled face always got flustered and red, only driving Katsuki’s attraction to him deeper.

 

Suddenly, Mina barged between them, phone in hand. “Hey! Say cheese!” 

Katsuki didn’t smile, but Izuku flashed a peace sign as Mina took the photo and checked it. She sighed and blew a raspberry at Katsuki for his sour expression.

“Why can’t you smile, Katsuki?” she whinged. “You’re always doing it when you look at Midoriya!”

“Yeah, and you’re not him.” Katsuki fit his head in the crook of Izuku’s neck again.

“Fine, fine. Can I post this?”

Katsuki paused. Mina had the most followed account in the school. If he and Izuku were seen romantically in the picture, all the students would know that they were together, and it would surely be a hot topic when they returned to school. However, not caring about what others thought was one of Katsuki’s newest goals. Izuku looked at him expectantly, unsure if Katsuki would agree. He nodded his head at Mina.

 

“Sure. Go ahead.”

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

Katsuki could hear the chatter of voices downstairs before he even got out of his bed. It was his graduation day, the last time he’d ever have to step foot in that hellhole he called school again. Well, it wasn’t all bad. Izuku was one of the students. But he’d only be visiting him when school ended, and he offered to pick him up and drive him home, trying hard not to leap on his boyfriend and kiss him in front of the entire student body.

 

When Katsuki went downstairs, still in his pyjamas, he saw Izuku having a conversation with his parents, smiling as he spoke. He was wearing a smart black suit for the occasion, although even after being taught by Katsuki many times, his red tie was still knotted abysmally. Katsuki approached the kitchen, catching his mother's eye, who smirked.

“Look who decided to wake up!” she gasped sarcastically. “You’re lucky you have the boyfriend taxi service for you because I wouldn’t be so generous to take your ass to school if you were sleeping in that long.”

“As if I’d ever want to be in the same car as you if I could help it,” drawled Katsuki, grabbing Izuku by the wrist and dragging him upstairs. Izuku laughed and waved at Mitsuki and Masaru before letting himself be pulled away and pushed into Katsuki’s room. Katsuki stood against the wall and shut the door, leaning in Izuku’s ear.

“You come here looking like that and expect us to leave on time, Izuku?” he breathed. Izuku shuddered and put his hands on his waist, twitching slightly at how much warmer Katsuki’s skin was.

“We can’t be too late,” Izuku whispered. “There’ll be a bit of traffic.”

Katsuki ignored him and dipped down to kiss against his neck, feeling his throat bob when he swallowed. It had been four months since they started dating, but Izuku still got unnaturally flustered whenever Katsuki kissed him.

“D-Don’t let them be v-visible, please,” he begged, moving his arms to grip Katsuki’s shoulder blades. Katsuki only made a noise in acknowledgement as he got to work undoing Izuku’s pitiful attempt at a tie. 

“You still haven’t learned to do this properly, you dumbass?” he murmured against his tanned skin. Pulling the scarlet tie from his collar, Katsuki pushed Izuku’s shirt to the side and began kissing and licking against his collarbone.

Under Katsuki’s touch, Izuku was crumbling. “K-Kacchan…” he groaned. Katsuki smirked to himself. He knew every spot that would make Izuku unravel and become a pile of putty for him to mould in his hands. But he had just enough of a clear head to know he didn’t have a lot of time. So Katsuki sucked a few purple bruises against his sweltering freckled skin, only stopping when he was satisfied. 

“There. Now only I can see.” Katsuki raised his head back up to kiss Izuku sweetly, holding him close and inhaling his addicting smell.

 

After they broke apart, Katsuki got back to work redoing Izuku’s tie. “You really do suck at this,” he berated, voice returning to a normal volume. Izuku pouted.

“You’re so mean to me.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow and pulled the tie again, undoing all his work. He threw the fabric in Izuku’s face. “Fine, you do it then.”

“Wai– Kacchan!!” he whined. Katsuki ignored him again and grabbed his outfit for the graduation ceremony, which was the same suit but with a black tie. He was about to lock himself in the ensuite when Izuku grabbed his arm.

“Please, Kacchan. I do suck at it. Can you please do my tie for me?”

Katsuki smiled softly and shook his head, tossing the clothes on the floor. Their fingers brushed together ever so slightly as Katsuki took the tie from Izuku and wrapped it around his neck.

“Of course, you damn nerd. How can I ever say no to you?”

The ceremony was long and torturous. Katsuki had to sit through way too many speeches and applauses and wait around for people to slowly walk on stage, then off it. The only thing that kept him from going insane from boredom was being able to see Izuku from where he was standing. Unlike most underclassmen, who had worn either white or black ties, Izuku’s red one stood out like a burning flame among the crowd. When the principal’s words began to drone on, or a fellow student’s spiel dragged beyond an appropriate length, Katsuki would meet eyes with Izuku and smile. He didn’t think Izuku could see him grin, but it was alright. Because Katsuki knew he was smiling back.

 

They had officially been known as a couple in the last few months of school, starting after they returned from winter break. It was more than shocking for several people– Katsuki Bakugou, the boy who everyone assumed had no emotions beyond irritation, was suddenly in a genuine, loving relationship. And with a second year at that. Some people still gave them strange looks when they walked across the campus, hand in hand. But Katsuki had adopted Izuku’s carefree attitude faultlessly now. He was the embodiment of not giving a shit about what others thought, and this complete turnaround in his personality was even more revolutionary than the fact that he had started dating someone. Katsuki’s brazen attitude was still there. He hadn’t changed in that regard. But no longer did he feel the need to keep up appearances or pretend to be someone else for the sake of others. Those days were behind him. Katsuki was becoming who he wanted to be, not what others pictured him as.

 

Katsuki was happy. He was happy with his family and friends. He was happy with Izuku. And more importantly, he was happy with himself. Katsuki hadn’t felt a compulsion to kill in months. Not even close. The stress and torment that had lingered in every corner of his life had melted away. Guilt still ate away at him, knowing he could never erase the sins he had committed and all the wrongdoings he had done. But Katsuki wanted to improve. He had wanted to escape from the violent life he had led for years, but he didn't know how. Katsuki was closest to freedom than he had ever been. And he had Izuku to thank for it. That was why, now that he had him, he was never going to let him go.

 

After the graduation was finally over, Katsuki avoided the celebratory crowd and sought out Izuku, who was also cheering with his classmates, the newly advanced seniors. Katsuki knew he had also helped Izuku break out of his timid shell. He was confident in himself but didn’t always apply it out of fear of being seen as strange, and too many bad experiences had left Izuku scared to connect with others. With Katsuki’s encouragement, he started speaking to a few of his classmates and even made new friends within his grade. It filled him with joy to see Izuku start to fit in, even if it was a little later than he deserved. But even if he only got to experience that camaraderie for a year, Katsuki knew that would make Izuku more than elated.

But Izuku was also his boyfriend first, so Katsuki approached the new seniors and sought out that familiar mop of untamed green hair. Izuku was chatting away, but when he saw Katsuki, he stopped what he was saying and excused himself, waving goodbye. Katsuki barely had a second to react before Izuku jumped into his arms, and Katsuki had to fight to balance himself so he didn’t fall and hit his head on the ground. With a bit of a theatrical twirl, Katsuki put Izuku down and hugged him normally, keeping him close to his chest. He knew Izuku liked to hear his heartbeat; for whatever reason, it was a comforter. So Katsuki stroked the back of Izuku’s head while he pressed against his chest for a few seconds before facing him.

“Congrats on becoming a senior, dork,” Katsuki smirked. “How’s it feel to be a dinosaur now?”

“Says you,” Izuku immediately shot back. “If I’m a dinosaur, then what does that make you? A fossil?”

“Shut up.” Katsuki didn’t like to engage in much PDA in public, but Izuku’s face was so adorably red that he couldn't help planting a quick peck against his cheek. Then, he wrapped his arm around his shoulder and led him towards the graduates. “Let’s go find the other losers.”

 

The rest of Katsuki’s friends were celebrating on the field with the rest of the newly completed seniors. When they saw Izuku and Katsuki coming towards them, they all cheered and ran over, skipping in excitement.

“Midoriya! Bakugou!” shouted Kaminari, his arms looped through Kirishima and Sero’s. “We’re going to go to Sero’s house! One more reunion for old times! Come with us!”

Katsuki glanced at Izuku, who shrugged with a resigned smile. “Sounds fun, Kacchan. But we do have to be back for dinner with my mom, though.”

He nodded and turned back to the eager boys. “We won’t stay long.” They let out hoots of excitement.

“Alright! You lovebirds can meet us there!” The three of them ran back towards the two girls, elbows still interlinked. Mina and Jirou, who were watching with disappointed faces, gave a small wave to Katsuki and Izuku. Right before they left for the carpark, they heard a distant sound of yelling and saw the sight of the trio, who had gotten tangled in their limbs and ended up as a heap on the ground, all piled on top of each other.

Katsuki sighed in exasperation, letting go of Izuku so he could fish for his keys. “They’re so stupid.”

Izuku giggled. “They’re having a good time. And I think they’ve earned it.”

Katsuki grumbled in agreement, climbing into the passenger seat and shutting his door. Izuku put the keys into the ignition and started the car with a low rumble. Katsuki had just clicked on his seatbelt when he heard Izuku pipe up.

“Kacchan. Raspberries?”

 

It had been a while since he asked. That question was their discreet way of checking in and asking if Katsuki was feeling any of his intrusive symptoms. Izuku did it fairly regularly as a way to show his concern. It was sweet, the way he cared. But as Katsuki’s and Izuku’s relationship grew, he no longer felt any compulsion to kill again. Katsuki didn’t want to hurt anymore. He just wanted to love. Not just romantic, but in all the forms he could express himself. It was a long path to fully understanding his feelings, but it would all be worth it so Katsuki could live a normal life.

“No. I’m fine,” affirmed Katsuki. Their code word had taken another meaning now. It reassured Izuku that he was OK and that he wasn’t suffering from the effects of the evil curse that was still buried somewhere inside of him. With not only Izuku’s help but also those closest to him, it could be quelled eternally and wouldn’t threaten his morality anymore.

Izuku nodded happily and began reversing out of the parking lot, ready to drive off to Sero’s house. A mischievous grin popped up on Katsuki’s lips.

“Although one of your classmates was looking at you a little bit too much,” he joked. “I might have to step in.”

Izuku laughed loudly. “Aww, wow, that’s so cute of you, Kacchan.” He understood. They needed some humour to lighten how grave their sins were. It wasn’t even entirely false. Since getting more confident, Izuku also had a rise in admirers. It always made Katsuki’s blood boil, but he knew his boyfriend was equally as devoted to him. They belonged to one another, and their bond couldn’t be threatened by anything.

The drive to Sero’s house was talkative. Since Katsuki had been forced to stay silent during the entire ceremony, he wasn’t able to shut up now. Izuku happily listened to him rant about how sick he was of school and how he couldn’t wait to burn all his papers and shove his uniform to the back of his closet, never to be seen by human eyes again. 

As happy as Katsuki was to be finished, it was still bittersweet that he would no longer be able to see Izuku in his environment every day. They could see one another after school and on weekends, but it would be much less than usual. Izuku was the one who reassured him, saying that this wouldn’t change anything, but it was Katsuki who was nervous. He was so in love with Izuku that it was ridiculous. He wanted to see him all the time. 

Izuku pulled into Sero’s driveway. The cars parked down the street told them that they had arrived just in time to join their friends.

“I’m going to study something hard,” announced Katsuki suddenly. Izuku gave him a quizzical look.

“Why? I thought you wanted to take time off to work on your art.”

“Because. I want to have enough money to be able to afford for us to live together when you finish school.”

Izuku pulled his keys out and undid his seatbelt, turning a little to face Katsuki better. “Kacchan… you just graduated,” he chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Well, I want to,” replied Katsuki, opening the door. “And you’re gonna live in the nicest fucking house in the world.”

Izuku giggled and ran over to Katsuki’s side of the car, clutching onto his arm. “Of course I will. You’re gonna be there.”

 

The firepit was brimming with conversation when Katsuki and Izuku walked through Sero’s back door into the yard. They were both greeted with a wave and some shouts, noticing how tightly their arms were wrapped around each other.

“So, Midoriya!” greeted Sero. “Officially a senior, ey? Trust me, it isn’t as great as we made it look.”

Izuku took a seat next to Mina, who gave him a tight hug. “I’m excited! But I know I’m going to have to work a lot harder now.”

“Ah, you’re smart,” Kaminari waved his hand dismissively. You’ll be fine.”

Kirishima poured a cup of something alcoholic – Katsuki couldn’t determine what it was from the smell alone – and passed it to Izuku. “Wanna drink? We’re all gonna get smashed.”

Izuku shook his head. “Kacchan and I have to go see my mom soon. I’d like to be able to speak coherently.”

Everyone laughed at that, and Katsuki felt his heart grow. He wanted Izuku to join his friend group so he had an option if Katsuki ever left his life. But now, the entire group was closer than ever, and he wasn’t going anywhere. With Izuku’s help, Katsuki learned that he no longer had to hide who he was. When he became more genuine, he feared his friends wouldn’t take him seriously. But it was the opposite, and now he felt safe confiding in people he knew cared about him. Izuku had shown him that those who mattered would listen, and they would love him regardless.

“Bakugou?” Kirishima offered the cup to him, too, but he refused.

“I’m good.” He didn’t need to drink. He was already drunk off another thing. Izuku.

 

“What’s everyone planning to do now?” Izuku asked.

Jirou took a swig of her drink. “Kaminari and I are doing music production in Shibuya. We both got scholarships.”

“Yup!” Kaminari threw his arm over Jirou’s shoulder. She barely managed to keep control of her cup so it didn’t spill and shot a nasty look at the oblivious boy. “Jirou and I are gonna rock your socks off!!” he announced, his words slurring together.

“How is he already drunk?” questioned Mina. “He had like one beer.”

“How did he get this scholarship is the better question,” Jirou muttered, peeling Kaminari’s arm off her.

“I’m going into something fitness related,” said Kirishima. “But I’m staying local! My moms wanted me to be close to home.”

“You’ll be good at that,” smiled Izuku.

“I’m going to do a degree in the fine arts of dance!” announced Mina with a twirl. “My university’s in Tokyo!”

Izuku clapped. “Exciting! You’ll do great there!”

“We all know Bakugou’s going to do something artsy,” Sero said. “So he’ll be sticking around too. As for me, I’m taking half a year off to do travelling. I wanna see places before I settle down into some job I hate.”

Izuku leaned his head on Katsuki’s shoulders. “You all sound so sure. I’m not sure what I want to do just yet…”

“Hey, we know you’re a psychology genius, Izuku!” Mina ruffled his green locks. “You’ll have no trouble in a degree like that!”

“You still have a full year,” Katsuki reminded him. “Don’t worry about it too much.”

Izuku scoffed and gave him a look. “You’re one to talk. Didn’t you just say you wanted to do a difficult degree so you could earn more money for us?”

Katsuki felt his face get red hot, and hoots of laughter erupted from his friends.

“Oho, I guess I stand corrected!” Sero cackled.

“Shut your mouth,” Katsuki hissed at him. “That’s none of your business.”

“Aw, but I think it’s adorable!” Mina cooed. “You and Izuku living together? I can’t imagine anything more precious!”

“Shut up.” Katsuki may have managed to lower his walls, but he still got flustered when Izuku was involved. He was his everything; his vulnerability, and any jabs at his obvious soft side for the boy made him more embarrassed than anything else.

“Midoriya.” Kirishima was hiding his snicker behind his cup. “You know we’ll all still keep in touch with you, right? Even if we’re busy, we have time to send a text.”

“Yeah,” added Kaminari. “Please harass us if we ignore you for too long. We’ve made a pact with each other to not let school tear us apart.”

Izuku smiled. “I hope I do get to hear from you, too.” He took his phone out of his pocket and clicked his tongue. “Ah, gotta go. Mom’s asking for me and Kacchan.”

Katsuki and Izuku said goodbye to everyone, and Katsuki even allowed himself to be hugged for a few seconds more than he wanted. His hand found Izuku’s again and they walked through Sero’s empty house, Izuku with a huge grin plastered across his face.

“Well, that was nostalgic,” he said. “Hey, Kacchan, remember when I kissed Kirishima at that party?”

Katsuki went very stiff, gripping Izuku’s fingers tightly. He noticed and raised his eyebrows at Katsuki suggestively.

“...Yes.”

Izuku gestured for Katsuki to lean down a little, and he complied. “I did really want to kiss you, though,” he whispered into his ear.

Katsuki stood up straight proudly, wrapping his arms around Izuku’s hips. “Good. Now you will.”

Izuku closed his eyes giddily in anticipation, but at the same time as kissing him, Katsuki lifted him into the air, which made him shriek a little.

“As if I’d go down to your level, shorty,” Katsuki teased. “I’ll bring you up to mine.”

Katsuki knew the way to Izuku’s house off by heart now. He had gone over many times, mostly alone but a few times with his family. It made him nervous to bring his parents to meet Inko since their personalities were so different, but it had gone surprisingly well. Mitsuki and Inko clicked instantly, and now they spoke like old friends. 

When the two boys got home, the sweet smell of katsudon wafted throughout the small house. Katsuki changed his shoes into the slippers that he had been permanently assigned and greeted Inko in the kitchen.

“Hi, Mom!” chirped Izuku. 

“Hello, boys,” she replied, not moving from her spot. “I’m afraid I’ve got to keep an eye on the food, so I can’t come give you a hug.” Inko looked over her shoulder. “Oh, but Katsuki, darling, congratulations on graduating. I know Izuku is very proud of you, and so am I.”

Izuku rubbed the back of his head. “Mom…”

Katsuki chuckled. “Need any help with dinner?”

“Oh no, no,” she rebutted. “I’ve got it all under control. Dinner will be ready very shortly. You two can go to Izuku’s room and do… whatever you dang kids do in there.”

Katsuki gulped. They had been lucky enough not to be caught in a compromising position in front of Izuku’s mother before, but he knew she wasn’t a fool. Her faith in Izuku, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid with Katsuki, was appreciated. She cared about her son, but wasn’t overbearing. It was very refreshing. Katsuki liked it because it was clear she also trusted him and knew that he would never do anything against Izuku’s wishes or hurt him in any way.

 

“Yell out for us when it’s ready!” called Izuku, already dragging a very in-thought Katsuki down the hall and shutting the door behind him. Katsuki suddenly felt very trapped in the formal suit he hadn’t taken off all day. He got right to work yanking the tie from his throat and discarding it on the ground. Izuku did the same, pulling his blazer from his shoulders.

“You know, you have a bit of a habit of leaving your clothes here, Kacchan,” he joked. “Did you want to change into one of those? I washed them for you.”

Katsuki stripped down to the white button-up shirt, methodically popping the last buttons as he gave Izuku a titillating look. “Sure. But maybe I can save that for when your mom calls us.”

Izuku bit the inside of his cheek and avoided his eyes, embarrassed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Am I?” Katsuki undid the last button, letting the white cloth float over his abdomen, and he saw Izuku fight not to stare at his revealing chest. “You must be dying to get this off, too.”

Izuku crossed his arms. “Not as much as you, apparently.”

Katsuki grabbed his tie and roped it around his fingers. “Izuku.”

“Kacchan.”

Katsuki tugged on the tie. “Are you going to make me say it?”

Izuku batted his eyes innocently, flicking his unnaturally long eyelashes up and down. “Say what, Kacchan?”

“That I think we should get on that bed and make out until your mother calls us for dinner.”

Izuku’s lips twitched, curling upwards. “Was that so difficult to say, Kac–”

 

Katsuki pulled him forward by his tie and crashed his lips against his mouth, feeling their teeth knock together. He paid that no mind as his hands got to work undoing Izuku’s tie and the buttons of his shirt. With his eyes squeezed shut, Katsuki worked his way down, undoing every button and then shoving Izuku’s shirt off his shoulders. He finally broke out of their kiss and pulled off his own top, walking backward until the back of his knees hit the bed. Izuku pushed him down and sat on his lap, strong legs looping around Katsuki’s waist.

“You must be so much more comfortable now that you’re out of that stupid suit,” Izuku muttered, tilting his head so he could plant an array of kisses on Katsuki’s neck.

“Stupid?” Katsuki repeated. He fought to keep his words stable as Izuku attacked his throat with his tongue. “You were looking at me like you wanted to eat me the whole day.”

“I did,” he growled. “But it’s not polite to kiss your boyfriend in public until he runs out of air just because of his outfit.”

“This must not be cathartic then if you asked me to get out of my clothes right away.”

Izuku grinned evilly. “Don’t lie to me and say that you think those suits are anything but unbearable.”

Katsuki groaned. “Hell no. They suck.” Izuku made a noise in agreement and returned to kissing Katsuki’s jawline. “Don’t leave marks, nerd.”

“I won’t,” he promised. Izuku kissed him much less forcefully, leaving ghostly trails down his throat and onto his collarbone, where his head lay perfectly against Katsuki’s shoulder. Every part of them slot together flawlessly. They were truly made for each other, and neither of them could ever replace the other.

“OK, OK, I wanna lie down.” Katsuki turned to the side, falling back and letting his head hit the pillow, pulling Izuku down with him and laying him on his bare chest. Izuku hummed happily and began tracing little circles against Katsuki’s warm skin, occasionally placing a kiss there too.

Katsuki couldn’t help but think back to their first meeting. Izuku at his door, leading the conversation with the admission that he knew that Katsuki was a murderer. Katsuki’s impulsive judgement of him and how he considered Izuku nothing but a nuisance. How things had changed. Just like his old urge to kill, Katsuki’s love for Izuku didn’t make logical sense sometimes. But it was genuine, and he enjoyed it, something that couldn't be said about the acts of violence he committed. Katsuki couldn’t live without him now.

Water kills fire. Fire evaporates water. Izuku was water, and Katsuki was fire.

But water can also extinguish a burning flame and tame a blaze that is out of control. It can put out a defiant ignition and reduce it to a harmless flicker of light that brightens its surroundings. That was what Izuku had done to his unwanted urges. Now, his compulsion was fueled by nothing but pure adoration.

And Katsuki’s flames had evaporated Izuku’s fears that he was unworthy of feeling loved. They had made his worries that he didn’t deserve to feel included vanish. Katsuki thought all he could do with his hands was destroy. But his fiery disposition could build people up, too. Izuku was living proof.

 

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!!

 

Katsuki groaned and sat up, and Izuku pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking at Katsuki with his beautiful half-lidded eyes. 

“That was quicker than expected,” he grumbled. Izuku giggled and got up, searching through his drawers for Katsuki’s forgotten shirt.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked, voice still a little hoarse. Katsuki got up from the bed and took his shirt from Izuku’s outstretched hands.

“How we started,” he said affectionately.  “How we first met. How I thought you’d be this thorn in my side, and you turned into… whatever we are now. I love you so much.”

Izuku grinned, putting his own casual shirt over his head. “Didn’t think you’d be so sentimental, Kacchan. I love you too.”

“I’m… I’m serious, Izuku. I think about how when we met, my first instinct was to hurt you and I still kick myself over it.”

Izuku rubbed his arm, brushing over the small blond hairs. His hand landed on the woven bracelet he had made that Katsuki refused to take off. “A lot’s different. I think about it, too. But I wouldn’t change anything, even the things I messed up. I’d make all the same mistakes if they led to us being together.”

Katsuki threaded Izuku’s hair through his fingers, pushing his bangs to the side so he could look into his dazzling eyes. “I think we’ve had this conversation before. When I told you that you were my friend for the first time.”

A flicker of recognition crossed Izuku’s face. “I remember. And I remember the question you asked.”

Katsuki nodded. “Me too.”

Izuku stood on his toes, nose millimetres away from Katsuki’s. “So, Kacchan, what am I to you now?”

Katsuki parted his lips and inched closer, only a hair’s width from the boy he loved. His voice was low but sweet when he spoke.

“The person I need more than anyone in the world.”

 

Izuku closed the distance between them as soon as the words hit his ears. Their lips locked together so wonderfully it made Katsuki dizzy. He would never be happier than he was kissing Izuku, and when he broke their embrace to head to the door, Katsuki’s mouth tingled immediately at the loss.

“Come on, Kacchan. My mom’s waiting. She’s gonna bombard you about your graduation, so be warned.”

Katsuki smiled contently. His hand was still interlinked with Izuku’s, so he stood still, making Izuku turn around and cock his head to the side.

“I’ve just got one more question,” he whispered softly. Izuku sighed dramatically.

“Our dinner’s gonna go cold!” he teased.

Katsuki stepped forward, still holding onto his hand. “Will you… ever regret meeting me?”

Izuku’s eyes knit together for a split second before he relaxed, walking into Katsuki’s bubble and wrapping his arms around him tenderly. His voice was slightly muffled, but Katsuki would never mistake Izuku’s words.

“How could I possibly regret anything,” he said. “When I get to love you like this forever?”

 

 

Notes:

i aint even gonna lie to you guys, another reason this chapter took longer than i wanted because i was struggling writing the romance scenes so bad ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴ its like my biggest hurdle BUT I PUSHED THROUGH‼️ idc if you think its unrealistic that they both got away with all the murder i’m not ending the fic with one or both of them in jail WE LOVE THRIVING TOXIC YAOI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this has been so enthralling to write and i genuinely think if i tweaked it a bit and changed the names i could write my own novel with this premise LOL too bad publishing companies, this fic is for the bkdks!!!
i hope you enjoyed the story! ik this chapter has a couple of issues so any thoughts are welcome !! but i hope you liked it anyway!
and if you want you can follow my twitter! but i will warn you im kind of diverging away from mha at the moment and my account is a bit more of a personal one now lol :P

also. i did think of like an epilogue or time skip scenario so to speak? but it is NOT happy so idk if i’ll write that LOLLL

kind of wacky that in my last fic i struggled to write 3k words for a single chapter (which is lowkey disgraceful smh). now i drop 20k chapters back to back. waow.

not sure if im gonna write another fic this long in a while, bkdk or otherwise. we’ll see! i really struggled to finish this chapter i cant lie and you can probably tell its not as good. but im glad its done and not abandoned!!! please let me know what you thought in the comments, leave kudos if you so wish, and ill catch you all next time!!

 

~ cj (socksasgloves)