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“I bet you won't do it," Denki sang, sprawled dramatically across the common room couch with his legs dangling over Kirishima's lap. "You're too chicken, Midoriya."
"I am not chicken!" Izuku protested, though he was currently stress-eating his third package of gummy bears. "I just have a highly developed sense of self-preservation."
"Dude," Mina snorted, trying to steal some of his gummies, "you literally jumped off a building last week because you thought you saw a cat stuck in a tree."
"That was different… The cat needed help!"
"It was a plastic bag," Todoroki deadpanned from his spot on the floor, where he was inexplicably making an ice sculpture of Present Mic.
"It was a very cat-shaped plastic bag," Izuku muttered, clutching his gummies closer.
The common room of Heights Alliance had become something of a circus over the past hour. Sero had somehow managed to tape himself to the ceiling ("For the perfect camera angle!"), while Iida was stress-cleaning everything in sight, occasionally pausing to adjust his glasses and mutter about "the moral implications of pranking one's classmates."
"Come on," Uraraka grinned, floating upside down because she claimed it helped her think better. "Don't you want to see what happens when you call Mr. Explosion Murder by his actual name for once?"
"His actual name is Katsuki," Izuku pointed out.
"Yeah, but you haven't called him that since you guys were like, what, four?" Kirishima asked, trying to dislodge Denki's legs without success.
"Five, actually," Izuku corrected automatically. "There was an…incident with a sandbox and three All Might action figures."
"Ooh, story time!" Mina perked up.
"Focus!" Denki waved his phone around. "Operation 'Make Bakugo Combust' is a go! I've got perfect lighting and everything!"
"I still think this is a terrible idea," Izuku said, but he was running out of gummy bears and resolve. "Remember what happened the last time we tried to prank him?"
The class collectively shuddered. The Great Hair Gel Incident of 2024 was still a sensitive topic.
"This is different," Kirishima assured him, finally shoving Denki's legs off. "It's just his family name! Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Izuku groaned. "You're literally tempting fate!"
"Shh!" Mina suddenly hissed. "I hear angry stomping!"
Sure enough, the distinctive sound of Katsuki's combat boots (which he wore everywhere, including the shower, according to dorm rumors) echoed down the hallway.
Everyone scrambled into position. Sero adjusted his ceiling perch, Uraraka quickly righted herself (looking slightly green), and Denki nearly dropped his phone in his excitement. Even Todoroki's ice sculpture seemed to lean forward in anticipation.
Katsuki burst through the door like he always did – as if it had personally offended him. "Which one of you extras used up all the hot water? I swear to—"
"Hey, Bakugo." Izuku let it slip out of his mouth without thinking, since everyone was already in position and all… he felt somewhat peer pressured.
The moment the name left Izuku's mouth, time seemed to stop. The gummy bear he'd been about to eat fell from his frozen fingers. Somewhere above, Sero's tape made an ominous creaking sound.
Katsuki went completely still. The room held its breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
But when Katsuki turned around, there were no explosions. No yelling. Just a blank look that made Izuku's heart feel like it had been put through a paper shredder.
"What did you just call me?" Katsuki's voice was barely above a whisper, which was somehow worse than any amount of shouting could have possibly been.
Everyone grimaced.
Denki's phone clattered to the floor. Todoroki's ice sculpture melted into a sad puddle. And up on the ceiling, Sero whispered a quiet "Oh no."
They'd messed up. They'd messed up bad.
The silence in the room was so thick you could've heard a pin drop – or in this case, the sound of Sero's tape finally giving up, sending him plummeting from the ceiling with a very undignified "Meep!"
Nobody laughed. Not even when he landed in Todoroki's melted ice sculpture puddle with a splash.
"I..." Izuku's brain was short-circuiting. All his years of analyzing heroes, all his notebooks full of observations, and not one of them had prepared him for the sight of Katsuki Bakugo looking like someone had just kicked his theoretical puppy. "Kacchan, I didn't—"
"Was this supposed to be funny?" Katsuki's voice was quiet, and there was a vulnerability there that made Izuku's heart twist painfully. His face was an odd mixture of shuttered and painfully open, his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and his gaze was fixed somewhere on the floor, as if he couldn't bear to look at anyone. "Is this some kind of joke to you guys?"
Denki tried to discreetly kick his fallen phone under the couch, but only succeeded in sending it skittering across the floor right to Katsuki's feet. The screen was still recording.
"Oh my god," Mina whispered, horrified. "We might actually be the worst people ever."
"As class representative," Iida began, his glasses fogging up with distress, "I take full responsibility for this grievous lapse in judgment!"
"Dude, read the room," Kirishima hissed, elbowing him.
Uraraka, who had been stress-floating various pieces of furniture during the whole ordeal, suddenly lost her quirk's hold. Several chairs, a lamp, and an unfortunate potted plant came crashing down around them.
"Sorry!" she squeaked. "I float things when I'm nervous!"
But Katsuki wasn't paying attention to any of them. His mind was somewhere far away, spiraling into a place he never wanted to go. Was this it? Was this the moment where everything changed? He’d always supposed it would be inevitable. But, so soon? Now that he’s gotten his act together, of all times?
Growing up, "Kacchan" had been more than a nickname. It was a lifeline, a connection to a past where things were simpler, where Deku was just Deku, and Katsuki was still figuring out who he was supposed to be. It was a word that held history, warmth, and an unspoken promise that no matter how much they fought, how much they grew, they'd always have that piece of childhood to tether them.
But now... now it felt like that tether was fraying. Even if it was just for a prank, why would Izuku go along with it so easily? Was he moving on? Was their friendship becoming just another casualty of growing up and drifting apart? Katsuki's mind raced with questions, each more painful than the last. What if "Kacchan" was a thing of the past? What if he was losing Izuku?
When was the last time he even heard the stupid nickname? And with a dawning sense of horror, he realizes— he can’t fucking remember. He’d gotten too comfortable and taken it for granted. Assuming wrongly that it was simply an inevitability in his life.
"Kacchan," Izuku tried again, taking a step forward. His foot squished in the remains of Todoroki's sculpture. "It was stupid. We were being stupid. should've never—"
"Whatever," Katsuki cut him off, but his voice lacked its usual fire. He bent down, picked up Denki's phone, and very deliberately crushed it in his hand. Small explosions crackled between his fingers until there was nothing left but sparking electronic confetti.
"Hey!" Denki protested weakly, then immediately shrank back when everyone glared at him. "I mean... yeah, that's fair…”
Katsuki turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. He hesitated, his back still turned, and for a moment, it looked like he might say something more. But the words stuck in his throat, heavy and unyielding. Instead, he muttered, "Just so you know, Deku... that sucked."
He disappeared down the hallway, leaving behind a room full of guilt-ridden teenagers and one sopping wet Sero.
"Well," Todoroki said, breaking the silence as he stared at his melted masterpiece, "I suppose this means I'll have to start over on my Present Mic sculpture."
"That's what you're worried about right now?" Mina threw a cushion at him.
"Art helps me process emotions," he replied solemnly, already forming a new block of ice.
Izuku sank onto the couch, feeling like the world's worst friend. The remaining gummy bears in his package seemed to be judging him. "I have to fix this."
"We'll help!" Uraraka declared, then paused. "Though maybe we should stop helping, since our help is what caused this in the first place."
"Yeah," Kirishima agreed, running a hand through his hair. "Our track record isn't great. Remember the Hair Gel Incident?"
"We don't talk about the Hair Gel Incident," everyone chorused automatically.
Izuku stood up, determination replacing guilt. "No, I have to do this alone. I've known Kacchan since we were kids. I shouldn’t have went along with this, but I’ll be the one to fix it.”
•
Katsuki wasn't hiding. He was just... strategically positioned in the stairwell between the third and fourth floors, sitting on the steps with his head in his hands, having what he'd call an "emotional recalibration moment" (definitely not a breakdown, thank you very much).
"Stupid Deku," he muttered, but it came out more wobbly than he'd like. "Stupid nickname. Stupid... everything."
The worst part wasn't even the prank itself. It was that Izuku had gone along with it. "Kacchan" wasn't supposed to be some joke for their classmates' entertainment. It was theirs. It was special. It was late-night convenience store runs and shared blankets during thunderstorms and that one time they accidentally got matching All Might band-aids and wore them for a week even after the scrapes healed. Even through all their arguments and hardships, they hung onto their nicknames forever.
And now it felt... tainted somehow. Marred by fingerprints that aren’t their own.
"KACCHAN!"
Izuku's voice echoed through the stairwell, accompanied by the sound of frantic footsteps. Of course he'd come looking. He always did.
"Go away, nerd," Katsuki called back, but his voice cracked embarrassingly on the last word. Great. Just great.
The footsteps got closer until Izuku burst through the door, clutching three bags of spicy chips (Katsuki's favorite) and looking like he'd run a marathon. His hair was even more of a disaster than usual, which was saying something.
"Kacchan," Izuku wheezed, doubling over. "I've been looking everywhere for you! I checked the gym, the roof, that tree you like to blow up when you're having feelings—"
"I don't have a specific feelings tree," Katsuki interrupted, then paused. "...anymore."
"Kacchan, I'm so sorry." Izuku dropped the chips and collapsed dramatically onto the stairs next to him. "It was stupid and awful and I never should have gone along with it and I'm the worst best friend ever and—"
Katsuki flinched. Friend. There was that word again. Like it could somehow encompass the magnitude of whatever this thing between them was. Like it could explain why Katsuki knew exactly how Izuku liked his tea (disgustingly sweet with exactly three ice cubes), or why Izuku could read his moods just by the size of his explosions, or why they somehow always ended up gravitating toward each other no matter where they were.
"Don't," Katsuki said, and it came out rougher than he meant it to.
"Don't... what?" Izuku blinked those stupidly big eyes at him.
"Don't call us that. Friends." Katsuki gestured vaguely between them, face burning. "It's... wrong. We aren’t—“
"Wrong?" Izuku's voice went up about three octaves. "What do you mean wrong? Are we not friends? Oh god, have I been misreading this whole thing the entire time? Is this like that time I thought we were sharing my Netflix account but you were actually just stealing it—"
"For fuck's sake, Izuku!" Katsuki exploded, but it was more of a sad sparkler than his usual dynamite. "We're not just friends, okay? We're... more. Different. Whatever." He aggressively opened a bag of chips to avoid eye contact. "Friends don't... friends don't have whatever this is."
"Oh," Izuku said softly. Then, because he was still Izuku: "So what you're saying is, we're like... super best friends?"
"I will actually murder you."
"Ultra best friends?"
"I'm leaving."
"Soulmates?" Izuku suggested, getting all up in Katsuki’s face, barely containing his grin.
Katsuki choked on his chip. "That's it. I'm pushing you down these stairs."
"No, you won't," Izuku said with infuriating confidence. "You like me too much. We're beyond friends, remember?"
"I take it all back. We're strangers. I've never met you in my life."
"Sure, Kacchan," Izuku smiled, bumping their shoulders together. "Whatever you say."
Katsuki huffed, but didn't move away. "...This doesn't mean you're forgiven for the nickname thing."
"I know. That's why I got Todoroki to make you an ice sculpture apology. It was supposed to be us, but it somehow ended up looking like Present Mic again."
"Why does he keep doing that?"
"I think he's working through some things."
Despite himself, Katsuki felt a smile tugging at his lips. "Want to go blow it up?"
"Obviously." Izuku stood up, offering his hand. "That's what not-just-friends are for, right?"
"I hate you so much."
"No, you don't."
"...Whatever."
But he took Izuku's hand anyway, and if they held on a little longer than necessary, well, that's simply just what “not-just-friends” do.
•
They made it halfway up the stairs before Izuku, being Izuku, couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore.
"So," he started, in that tone that meant Katsuki was about to want to explode something. "When you say we're more than friends—"
"Nope." Katsuki tried to drop his hand, but Izuku just held on tighter. "We're not doing this."
"—does that mean I can call you my emotional support explosion?"
Katsuki stopped dead on the stairs. "Your what."
"You know, because you're always there when I need you, and you solve most problems by blowing them up—"
"I'm jumping out this window."
"—and you're kind of like a really angry therapy session except instead of talking about feelings you just yell and make things explode—"
"The window is right here."
"Kacchan," Izuku whined, tugging on their still-joined hands. "I'm trying to have a moment here!"
"Well, stop!" But Katsuki's face was doing that thing where he was trying really hard not to smile, and failing miserably. "This is why I don't talk about feelings. You get weird."
"I'm always weird," Izuku pointed out cheerfully. "You like it."
"I tolerate it."
"You loooove it."
And maybe it was the way Izuku said it, or maybe it was the leftover emotional vulnerability from earlier, but something in Katsuki's chest twisted painfully. Because yeah, maybe he did. Maybe he had for a while now.
"Yeah," he said quietly, surprising them both. "Maybe I do."
Izuku's eyes went wide. "...Kacchan?"
"Don't make me say it again," Katsuki muttered, face burning. "You know what I mean."
"I really don't!" Izuku squeaked, his own face turning red. "Are you saying—I mean, do you—are we—"
"Use your words, nerd!"
"Do you want to be boyfriends?!" Izuku blurted out, then immediately slapped his free hand over his mouth.
Katsuki stared at him. The stairwell fell silent except for the distant sound of what was probably Todoroki making more ice sculptures.
"I mean," Izuku started rambling, "we don't have to label it if you don't want to! We could be partners! Or significant others! Or—"
"Boyfriends is fine," Katsuki interrupted, looking anywhere but at Izuku. "If you want. Whatever."
"Whatever?" Izuku repeated, a grin spreading across his face. "That's how you're going to ask me out? 'Whatever'?"
"I didn't ask you out! You asked me!"
"Technically, I just suggested a label for our undefined more-than-just-friendship—"
"Oh my god, shut up," Katsuki groaned, but he was smiling now too. "Yes, okay? Yes to boyfriends. Yes to whatever this is. Just stop talking."
Izuku beamed. "Make me."
Katsuki's eyes widened. "Did you just—"
And then they heard a crash from above, followed by multiple voices swearing.
"Shit!"
"Kaminari, your elbow is in my face!"
"Guys, I think they heard us—"
"SCATTER!"
Katsuki and Izuku looked up to see their entire class trying (and failing) to flee from their eavesdropping positions on the upper landing.
"WERE YOU ALL LISTENING THIS WHOLE TIME?!" Katsuki roared.
"No?" Mina tried, hanging upside down from Sero's tape.
"Maybe a little?" Kirishima added, sheepish.
"To be fair," Todoroki said, somehow still making ice sculptures, "this is technically our fault. The prank did lead to this."
"So, what I'm hearing is that we should definitely take credit for getting you two together." Kaminari added.
"He's right!" Uraraka bounced excitedly. "Our terrible idea actually worked out! You guys are boyfriends now!"
"I'm going to murder all of you," Katsuki declared.
"No, you won't," Izuku said, squeezing his hand. "You love us."
"I love you," Katsuki corrected without thinking, then immediately went red. "I mean—wait—fuck—"
The entire stairwell erupted in cheers and cooing noises.
"That's it." Katsuki raised his free hand, sparks dancing between his fingers. "Everyone dies."
"Kacchan, no!"
"Kacchan, yes!"
What followed was explosions, screaming, Todoroki somehow still making Present Mic sculptures, and their classmates running for their lives while yelling "Worth it!" and "Love wins!"