Chapter 1: The Lawn is Dead
Summary:
Breaking the news.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Are you awake?”
If you had told Izuku two years ago that he, a (once, and once again) quirkless kid would be laying in a hospital bed next to THE All Might, after saving not only Japan, but the entire world from an extremely powerful villain, he would have laughed right in your face.
There was no way that he should have been there, in that hospital bed or in that situation.
Everything felt wrong, like he was about to wake up from a dream.
“What are the odds that you and I would end up side by side, All Might?” Izuku’s voice was strained, tired, and hoarse from screaming so much, as well as from Blackwhip forcing itself out of his mouth earlier that day. His throat burned like he’d just thrown up.
A gaunt looking All Might, covered in bandages from head to toe and sporting a neck brace, mumbled a response. “Tsukauchi arranged it this way.” Izuku nodded to himself, a small oh trailing past his lips. “They’re short on rooms, and it was much easier for them to do it this way. The guards can’t be in multiple places at once.”
”Yeah, that makes—“ Izuku coughed, letting out a pained noise, “—sense.” Tears pricked at the edges of his vision. He was ninety nine percent sure that at least one of his ribs was broken. Maybe he didn’t have enough stamina for Recovery Girl to finish the job? Was she even here? He wasn’t exactly in the nurses office, but with the amount of injuries his classmates had suffered, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was here. He swallowed, trying to ignore the subtle tightening in his chest.
Izuku shifted his head to look at All Might. “How are you holding up, All Might?” The man in question grunted in response, eyes locked on the ceiling.
“The doctors said that they’d never had to use quite so many bolts to put someone back together.”
Izuku made a small sound in acknowledgement.
”How are you holding up, Midoriya?” The green haired boy shifted his head back to where it had been before and sighed. How was he doing? He had just fought in a war, and won, but winning was beside the point. Everything hurt, the lights in that room were far too bright, and he felt like he’d just been hit by a bus.
“I suppose I’m okay. I’m getting some of the feeling back in my arms...” All Might sensed that there was meant to be a but after that sentence.
“Midoriya?
Izuku just sucked in a breath. So much had happened in just a few hours, just a few days… It was all a lot.
”I…” He attempted to gather his thoughts, focusing his gaze on a crack in the concrete ceiling. “I couldn’t save Tenko. Even after I’d gotten through to him, he remained the leader of the League of Villains until the very end.” All Might let out a sigh.
”Midoriya.”
”Hm?” Izuku didn’t turn his head this time.
”I want you to picture what his face looked like in the end.”
Izuku tried to picture the final moments of their fight, replaying the words Tenko had said before turning to dust.
“Make sure you do your damn best.”
“If he didn’t look like that scared, lonely child you described to me before, then you did your job, Izuku. You saved him in every way you could— his soul, anyway.”
Izuku was sure that the boy he’d been a year ago would have burst into tears right then. But he wasn’t that kid anymore, was he? All he could do was purse his lips. He didn’t feel like crying.
“You did your duty to One For All. Don’t beat yourself up too much, kid.” Izuku didn’t speak for a moment, furrowing his brow.
”Yeah, but…” A yell from down the hall and the door to their shared hospital room being shoved open cut him off. He turned his head to look in the direction of all the commotion.
“Izuku,” Mitsuki huffed, holding the door open with white knuckles. She had tears running down her cheeks, painting her pale face with an iridescent shine. “He’s gone.”
—
“What?”
The couple stood in the sterile hospital hallway, side by side, awaiting what was supposed to be good news about their son. Well, they didn’t have to wait anymore. “Say that again.”
”Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou, your son suffered extensive injuries to his right arm, but more importantly, to his heart.”
Mitsuki couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to hear any more. Her brat had to be okay. He always was.
There was no way that he had just given up like that.
He had been through too much to just be gone.
Apparently, her inner turmoil had shown on her face, because her husband pulled her in a little closer.
“Initially, the Pro Hero Edgeshot performed a risky procedure in the field in an attempt to close your son’s internal wounds,” The doctor paused to allow the information to process in the couples heads, “However, his tenacity, his willingness to continue fighting even when he was out of commission, was too much for his body to handle. He succumbed to his injuries before we could get him to the hospital. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
This was when Mitsuki had started to cry... or, more accurately, started to sob, she supposed, because from the wetness already staining her cheeks, apparently tears had already been shed. Masaru cried too, pulling her head into his chest.
“He can’t be dead, Masaru, he just can’t.” She hiccuped, staining her husband’s shirt with snot and tears. “He never even got to be a real hero.”
”But he did, Mitsuki, he did,” Masaru muttered into the blonde woman’s hair, sniffling and hiccuping as well, “He saved so many people.. and… and…” He struggled to find the words to continue. Mitsuki ripped herself away from him, her fists clenched at her sides.
“He was just a kid, Masaru! He didn’t... he hadn’t even gotten to really live yet!” Mitsuki found herself screaming, and normally, there would be a small voice in her head telling her that she should quiet down, that she might disturb the patients in the other rooms, but right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
The doctor gave her a sympathetic look, and Masaru just kept silently crying, looking at her in shock. She paused, still heaving with the force of her sobs, but faltering in her verbal outburst for just a moment.
Izuku. How was he going to react to this? Who was going to tell him? He was Katsuki’s best friend. How was he going to live with himself?
Hell, how was she going to live with herself? She was the one who let him go to Yuuei, She was the one that let him join in on the fight. She had made the majority of the decisions that led her son to this terrible fate, and that truth shook Mitsuki to her very core.
“I need…” She began to walk backwards, towards the room that she presumed Izuku was in. “I need to tell Izuku,” She sobbed, choking on air as she rushed towards one of the many doors that lined the hallway. The doctor shouted after her, and Masaru followed suit, so as to not let his wife do something she might regret in her fervor.
She shoved open the door, panting weakly and gripping the door handle with white knuckles. “Izuku, He’s gone.”
—
Looking over towards Mitsuki, Izuku’s heart rate spiked, causing the machine to his right to beep rapidly. What was she talking about? She couldn’t be talking about who he thought she was, because he had been fixed! Edgeshot had helped him, and everything had been okay!
Masaru caught up to his wife rather quickly, putting a hand on her shoulder. He was crying too.
No.
The doctor —Yoshida Ryu, as Izuku knew him by— followed shortly after, huffing and holding onto the wall.
“Mrs. Bakugou, please,” the dinosaur-quirked man pleaded.
No, no no no no no.
”What... What are you talking about, Auntie?” Izuku stammered, the corners of his mouth curling upwards.
“Mrs. Bakugou, you’re going t—”
”Katsuki is dead,” Mitsuki grasped at her chest, bunching her shirt into her hand. “I’m so sorry, Izuku.”
It was like the world had been submerged underwater. Everything All Might, the doctor, or Mitsuki said felt muffled and far away.
Dead.
Bakugou Katsuki was dead.
The distant beeping of his heart monitor did nothing to keep Izuku grounded.
How could he be dead? Kacchan had just been fighting alongside him, there was no way that he could have just died! They still had so much to do together!
”No, he was just with me, I swear! I mean, he was a little worse for wear, sure, but he certainly wasn’t dead!” Izuku hadn’t even realized that the beeping had grown more insistent, practically screaming at him that he needed to calm down, or he was going to join Kacchan wherever he might be.
Hot tears trickled down his face, fat drops falling down into his ears, soaking his bandages and trailing down onto his pillow.
“Please, Dr. Yoshida, tell me it’s not true,” but the man was too busy injecting something into his IV to respond. Izuku hadn’t heard what exactly he was injecting into him, but he assumed that maybe it was something to slow his heart rate from the incessant beeping of the monitor and the fear-riddled expressions of those around him.
Dr. Yoshida moved away from Izuku’s wrist and took a deep breath, stepping back towards the Bakugous.
“Your friend had tremendous injuries, Midoriya. It was unlikely that he would make it after the first blow to his heart, and even less so after the second. Bakugou’s right arm was shattered, and he had multiple fractures to his ribs and face. That boy lost a lot of blood, and hoping that he would make it even five more minutes was all we could do for him. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Izuku was starting to feel drowsy and disoriented as the medicine kicked in, effectively slowing his heartrate, but making him feel like a stranger in his own body. That just made him cry harder.
“Young Midoriya…” All Might trailed off, tears of his own starting to fall into the bandages on his face. “I’m so sorry.”
Izuku just couldn’t stop wailing, as much as he wanted to. He didn’t want to cry this hard in front of All Might, nor did he want to cry harder than Kacchan’s own parents!
All of this sucked!
He didn’t want to live without Kacchan, not now, not ever! Even if he had made mistakes, Izuku never truly wanted him to die! No matter how many times he had wished that something, anything would end the constant barrage of harassment he’d faced at Kacchan’s hands, no matter how many times he’d wished that Kacchan would suffer like he had in his worst moments, this was never the goal.
In his fervor of snot and tears, Dr. Yoshida had gently taken Mitsuki and Masaru out into the hallway to give them all a moment.
Izuku couldn’t believe it.
The boy that he’d grown to love as a best friend, as a rival, as everything, would grow no older.
…What was he gonna do?
Notes:
Chapter title is from half return, by Adrianne Lenker. I tend to use lyrics for all my titles because music is a pretty huge part of my life; sometimes the song itself relates to the chapter, sometimes it doesn’t. Who knows, really?
Please note that I tried to stay as accurate to chapter 424 as possible, so a lot of the beginning lines are sourced from there. I edited them so they weren’t the exact same, but I wanted the introduction to this series to stay as close to canon as possible!
oughh it’s so over
Chapter 2: You are as Far From Me as Memory
Summary:
Izuku has an awkward car ride, and Class 1-A celebrates Todoroki’s rise in the hero billboard charts.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Izuku couldn’t be more ready to see his friends that night.
The celebration had been planned for weeks in advance to ensure that everyone could come without any problems or obstacles, and Izuku had, for the past few days, been anxiously awaiting the moment that he would get to see his classmates again.
He rocked on his feet, buzzing with anticipation. His suitcase banged against his knees as he did so, but the excited boy didn’t really notice.
Sure, he saw Uraraka every now and again because of work, but everyone else was a different story.
That’s what happens when you grow up, though. You get jobs, have kids, and move on with your life. Izuku didn’t think that any of his friends had kids yet—if they were to ever have them at all—but he couldn’t be sure, since he hadn’t seen the majority of them in a long time.
Other than that, Izuku had everything he could ever ask for! He was able to do the things he loved every single day, and the suit that his class (alongside his predecessor, former principal and former homeroom teacher) had so graciously funded for him allowed him to continue to be a hero, even without One For All.
Well… maybe there was one thing that he didn’t have, but there was no need to dwell on that anymore.
It had been eight whole years since Kacchan died. And there was no use in thinking that maybe he should have instead; Izuku couldn’t have died too, because otherwise, Shigaraki…no. Tenko would still be out there, and the world probably would’ve exploded by now.
Sighing, Izuku tried to shake the thoughts from his mind. There was no use thinking about Kacchan anymore. He wasn’t coming back.
The green haired boy ran his fingernails along the indents of his suitcase. Maybe if he hadn’t—
“Hey, Midoriya!”
Izuku looked up to see a small silver car pull up to the curb, with Kirishima waving from the driver’s seat. A grin stretched across the freckled boy’s face, and he shot upwards to return the greeting.
“Hi Kirishima!! Hold on one moment, I’ll be there in just a sec,” Izuku straightened out his shirt and backpack and trotted over to the passenger side door. He gave another small wave, Kirishima shot him a thumbs up, and Izuku gently clicked open the door, slipped inside, and settled himself into the pleather seat.
“Good evening, Midoriya! Still sporting your backpack, I see?” Iida’s hand popped out from between the two seats. Izuku flinched slightly, but quickly calmed once he realized who had spoken.
“Oh, hi Iida. And yeah, I guess! It hasn’t failed me before, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to keep it on hand.” He clicked his seatbelt into place and gently dropped his backpack and suitcase between his feet. “Also, Iida,” He turned to look at Iida, who was squished into the back of the car. “Why are you in the back seat? I totally don’t mind sitting there, and you look really cramped, and you shouldn’t feel like you have to take the worst seat just to make me comfortable at the cost of your own comfort, and—“
“Woah, Midoriya! Chill your roll!” Kirishima chuckled, “I guess some things really never change, huh.”
Izuku turned to look at him, and the red haired boy placed a gentle hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Iida wanted to sit back there! Super chivalrous, right?!” Kirishima reached a fist backwards towards Iida, and he hesitantly tapped it with his own.
Izuku just sort of sat there, watching the interaction unfold.
Kirishima is just on a roll with interrupting me tonight, isn’t he?
“Midoriya, there’s no need to worry! Sure, I wanted to ensure that you were as comfortable as possible, but do not think for one second that I chose this seat knowing it would be at my own discomfort. Kirishima’s car is big enough for me to sit back here just fine, I can assure you.” Izuku flushed a pale red and rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.
“If you say so, Iida.” After a moment, he shifted himself to face the front, and Kirishima placed a hand on the gear shift to start reversing out of the lot. Izuku let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and deflated into the seat as they started to back out. Kirishima shot him a mildly concerned look from his peripheral vision.
“Hey, dude, you feeling alright? You seem jumpy.” Kirishima paused, pursed his lips and looked into his rearview camera. “More than I’m used to, anyway.” Izuku took note of his word choice.
It really had been too long.
Izuku took a long pause, which caused Kirishima to glance at him again.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
Kirishima made a face and turned the steering wheel to navigate onto the main road. “Dude, you suck at lying. Clearly something is off with you!” He laughed and clicked a few buttons to set the route on his sat nav.
”Midoriya, you don’t need to lie to us anymore,” Iida added.
Anymore.
Izuku sighed and looked out at the road in front of them.
He had been sixteen when he went off on his own; were his friends really still worried about that? Sure, it was nice that they cared, but seriously, it was concerning that they thought he could still be in that headspace.
Was he still in that headspace?
Izuku put a hand on his chin, one of his fingers resting on his lips.
It was hard to tell these days.
Everything had gone by so fast; maybe he just hadn’t realized that he’s slipped back into old habits? It was clearly showing on his face or in his demeanor, since Kirishima had noticed, so maybe something was wrong, and he had just been so consumed by everything with teaching and hero work that he himself hadn’t noticed?
“Midoriya, you’re muttering.”
“Sorry!! I guess I’m just a little sad tonight. It’s no big deal.” He turned to look at Kirishima, whose face had mellowed out into a more pensive expression.
“It’s about Bakugou, isn’t it?” The atmosphere in the car shifted, and that small pause left the car in silence for much longer than Kirishima had originally intended. “We miss him too, Midoriya. We all do.” Izuku paled.
“I was trying not to mention him…” He muttered, sighing dejectedly. “Kacchan would have loved this. The whole reunion, I mean.”
“Not without complaining about it first,” Iida interjected, which elicited a laugh from Kirishima and a gasp from Izuku. “He would have been complaining the whole ride here! Don’t tell me that you think he wouldn’t?!”
“Iida!!” Izuku chided, and Kirishima just kept laughing.
“He totally would have complained about Midoriya getting the front seat instead of him and insisted that he drive, claiming something about ‘I don’t plan on drinking, Shitty Hair, so it makes sense that I drive instead of you, idiot!!’ JUST so he had the better spot!” Kirishima attemped his best Bakugou impression, and Izuku snorted. His chest tightened as he formed his next thought.
“I guess we wouldn’t know, though, since he never actually drank…” Izuku smiled somberly, and he tried to ignore the very obvious twist in his gut.
For a moment, all the group could hear was the sound of the tires hitting the pavement.
Someone needed to change the subject, or Izuku was going to blow chunks all over Kirishima’s brand new sedan.
The red haired boy drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. ”Hey, Midoriya, I hear you’re doing quirk training with your students right now! Any of them match my style?”
Izuku lit up almost instantly and the green in his gills receded little by little.
“Oh, are you after sidekicks, Kirishima?”
“Yeah, I’ve just started my solo career!” The boy shot a smile at his friend in the passenger seat. “Fat and Amajiki are still helping me out, though, and I know a lot of our friends have a head start on me, but I figured that it was better late than never!” After a small tap from Iida, Kirishima turned to look at the road again with a curt apology. “To quote Fat: ‘There are things you only find out when you’re looking after people!’”
“Yeah, all of our friends are so cool! Yaoyorozu and Iida are truly in a league of their own!” Izuku beamed and looked back at Iida. “You’re leading your brother’s agency now, right Iida?”
He nodded and smiled. “Mm. It’s my duty as his brother, and as an Iida, to continue it, even if he can’t do all the things he used to do.” Izuku nodded and opened his mouth to speak when their conversation was interrupted by a shout from outside. The car rolled to a stop, and Kirishima grinned and pressed the button to roll down the window.
“Hey, Ashido! What’s up?” The pink haired girl smiled and waved to everyone in the car.
“Hi, Midoriya!! Hi Iida!!”
Izuku gave a wave, and Iida followed suit in his own rigid way.
She turned to face Kirishima. “The girls wanted me to let you know that we’re all parked—” Ashido pointed off to the right towards a set of spots closest to the building, “—over there. We had to reserve parking since there are so many of us here, and Jiro offered to pay so those of us carpooling didn’t have to park somewhere else and walk all the way over.”
Kirishima put up a thumbs up and grinned his signature sharp-toothed grin.
“Oh, that’s sick! Thanks for letting me know, Ashido; you’re a real one!”
She stuck her tongue out and retreated back over to the entrance of the building. Ashido quickly joined the group of girls by a sign that read the restaurant’s weekly special and continued chattering about who knows what with rest of the girls soon after.
Kirishima accelerated the car just enough to slide into one of the parking spots Ashido had pointed to.
“I think you’re doing great, Iida.” Izuku started to gather his things. He paused when Kirishima started laughing. A heat flushed his face as he realized the connotation behind what he’d said. “You too, of course, Kirishima!” Izuku stammered, almost dropping his suitcase right onto his feet. “I think everyone is doing amazing!”
"Yeah, yeah, I got it, Midoriya. Don’t worry about it; I know what you meant. Let’s just head in.”
—
“… Let’s celebrate the fact that Todoroki Shouto, a former Yuuei student and an essential part of class 1-A, has risen to second place on the hero billboard charts!!”
Everyone raised a glass in a toast, shouting and laughing in semi-unison. Kirishima was the only one who stood up, his drink sloshing over the side as he cheered. Todoroki stood at the entrance, holding up a glass of his own and a present from one of his classmates. Kaminari bounced beside him, grinning widely.
“Sorry for making you all come here tonight.”
Kaminari immediately cut into Todoroki’s self deprecating comment and put a hand on his shoulder to hopefully reassure him. “Hey, don’t worry about it! This was just an excuse for all of us to get together!”
Todoroki paused and deflated slightly. “Oh, got it.”
Kaminari shouted and waved his hands back and forth. “Oh my god, I was joking! Of course we want to celebrate you!”
Sero looked over, his brows furrowed. “Look what number forty four is saying to the number two. Stop that!”
Kaminari slunk over to his friend and shot Shouto a rushed apology. He kneeled down to sit on the pillow beside Sero with a sheepish look on his face. The tape-armed hero smacked him upside the head playfully, and Kaminari laughed shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Izuku took a swig of his drink and smiled to himself as the rest of his classmates start getting into the thicket of hero rankings amongst themselves.
Todoroki settled in next to Izuku and noted the green-haired boy’s forlorn expression.
“Midoriya.”
Izuku turned to look and took another sip of his drink. “Huh? What’s up?”
“Are you okay? You seem upset.”
Izuku immediately put his glass down and raised his hands, glowing red like an LED lightbulb.
“Oh, it’s nothing, Todoroki; don’t worry about it!”
Todoroki subtly raised an eyebrow, and Izuku’s expression softened. “Please?”
After a moment of silence, Todoroki nodded and dropped the subject.
Izuku briefly caught a fragment of the conversation happening amongst Tokoyami and a few other of his friends, and figured it couldn’t hurt to listen in.
“…heroes…are slowly headed towards extinction.” Tokoyami paused and looked down. Izuku made note of his new hairdo—How did it get so shaggy?— “Also, I hate that advertising company… What do you mean by ‘making you even more fabulous’? I’m darkness itself.” Tokoyami shook mildly from how hard he was clutching his drink, and Izuku chuckled. Ojiro made a comment about the drinks being alcohol free.
“Well, he’s right.” Todoroki agreed with Tokoyami’s statement and took a sip of his drink.
“Yeah,” Izuku affirmed alongside Todoroki and leaned back on one of his hands.
The dual-colored man didn’t speak for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, or simply contemplating his next words.
”Recently, a lot of people keep saying this to me.”
Mina immediately looked over at Todoroki, shot upwards, and started hitting her glass with a chopstick.
“Guys!! Todoroki is gonna give a speech, shut up!!”
Iida shot up at well to chide her. “That is not very nice, Ashido!” She made a face at him and stuck out her tongue, leaning forward.
Everyone (minus Kaminari, who got hit by Shinsou and eventually shut up after realizing what was happening) quieted, and Todoroki, mildly stunned as he was, continued.
”They say, ‘You fought against a cruel fate… and you fulfilled your duty.’ I stumbled and hesitated a lot along the way, but I wholly believe that I made the right choices.”
He paused, his eyes glazed over in thought. “Still… how can I put it? All this stuff about duty, destiny… Even if we are part of a much bigger story, I feel like wanting to keep fighting and getting to where I am now were things that were bound to happen.”
Everyone nodded along in acknowledgement.
“That’s why I’ve decided to take bowl and chopstick making classes in Ishikawa.”
Izuku and Kirishima gaped and shouted their “What?!”’s in unison. The class started their usual uproar of excitement and congratulations.
“I think soba would taste even better if I ate it using things I’ve made myself.”
Izuku sat there shocked, and Kirishima shot upwards (again), and slammed his hands down on the table.
“That’s awesome, Todoroki! What style are you going to do?”
“If it’s in Ishikawa, it must be the Wajima style,” Izuku added and took another sip of his drink.
“I’m going to be learning both Wajima and Yamanaka. It’s a private class.” Todoroki took a small pause, and the class died down a bit, sensing that there might be more to Todoroki’s announcement. “While praying at Touya’s altar, I realized something.” Izuku, along with the rest of his class, now waited in eager semi-silence. “I’ve always enjoyed eating. I realized that wanting to become a hero isn’t all I am.”
A moment of pause followed; everyone congratulated their half-and-half friend, and, soon after, they continued their previous conversations. Kirishima made another comment- something about free time as well, Izuku thought. He wasn’t really paying attention anymore, and as the conversation shifted to former classmates in relationships, he found himself lost in thought.
His gaze moved to the empty seat to his left, and his gut twisted uncomfortably. There was a small white chrysanthemum in between the napkin and utensils set out for whoever was meant to be sitting there. Whoever wasn’t sitting there.
Izuku wondered who might’ve put the flower there, because it certainly wasn’t him.
At least someone was thinking of him.
Izuku missed Katsuki.
He sighed, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he ran his fingers through the cream colored petals. It wasn’t fair to his friends that he was being sad on someone else’s big day. He needed to get over this.
Shouto glanced over at his freckled friend and noted his distress. He didn’t move to comfort him. He’d told him to not worry, and Shouto wasn’t one to break a promise.
Izuku’s thoughts were interrupted by the familiar shrill beep that exploded from everyone’s devices.
He quickly pulled out his phone, as did all of his friends, to read the expected request for hero intervention.
“Law enforcement is currently trying to disarm a low-level criminal down on Gareki Street, in the second south district! The perpetrator hasn’t caused any damage yet, but backup is needed in case of escalation!”
“And that’s why we can’t drink,” Sero quipped as everyone rushed to retrieve their hero suits from their respective cases.
“No time to fret now,” Izuku mumbled, shoving his phone back in his pocket and grabbing his suitcase from under the table. He could come back for his backpack later.
The class quickly shoved on their respective hero suits and raced out to the scene, buzzing with energy. But all Izuku could think about was the gaping hole in their formation where Katsuki would be.
Notes:
Chapter title is from indygar, by Adrianne Lenker. I like Adrianne Lenker, okay? don’t fight me on that, there will most likely be more chapter titles with lyrics from their music!
Oh, and also! I tend to refer to the character who’s POV the chapter is in by their first name rather than their surname, so if you’re ever confused on who is experiencing the horrors™ in a specific chapter, pay attention to that, UNLESS I am referring to a character’s parents (such as in the first chapter, with Mitsuki and Masaru), I tend to use parents first names when their child is being mentioned so as to not confuse myself with which [surname] is actually speaking. It’s all very confusing, but it works for me!
The dialogue is going to get more original from here, I swear!
Chapter 3: Heavy Focus
Summary:
Class 1-A arrives just a little too late, and Izuku has a chilling experience with a criminal.
Notes:
Shorter chapter today… there isn’t a whole lot to tell here. Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
By the time Izuku and his classmates arrived at the scene, the perpetrator was in the process of being detained.
Izuku furrowed his brow and walked over to where Iida was disrobing from his hero suit, and he lightly tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.
“Iida, do we have any information on what was up with this guy?” Izuku tilted his head to the side.
Iida gave a negative shake of his head. “I’m afraid that I don’t know. One could assume the officers have this information, and I have no doubt that they’re willing to catch you up to speed.” Izuku made a small noise in acknowledgement.
“Alright, thank you, Iida!” Iida nodded to him as he trotted off towards Tsukauchi, who was talking to Sansa about the charges against the guy they were detaining.
The chaos became increasingly apparent to Izuku as he got closer.
A man with crazy white hair was screaming profanities and pleas laced with feigned innocence as two officers fought to get him in Tartarus-level cuffs, and Izuku’s heart skipped a beat as he inched closer. The report would have mentioned a high danger level if the officers had known about it, so what the heck happened before we arrived on the scene?
“No, no, no, no, NO!! This isn’t how it was supposed to go; you don’t understand! Please, let me go, I swear, I’ll be good!” Now that he was a few steps closer, Izuku was quickly realizing that the man was probably only a few years older than him. When the officers continue to read the man his rights, not paying any mind to his pleas, he began to curse them out.
Izuku grimaced.
Tsukauchi looked up from his notepad and waved Izuku over subtly, and Izuku moved a little faster, jogging past the commotion.
“Deku, I was just about to look for you.” Tsukauchi smiled softly, very clearly trying to disregard the unrest happening to his left. Sansa noticed Izuku’s arrival, nodded to the hero, and slunk off to help out the other officers.
Izuku gave the tired detective a concerned look, and Tsukauchi shook his head.
“They’ll be fine; I trust that they’ll call one of you heroes over if they need any help. Now, I wanted to tell you about something we found.”
Izuku nodded.
“The guy has several warrants out for his arrest. He’s got multiple public nuisance charges, several resisting arrest charges, assault on an officer, and a menagerie of other things, plus the ones he earned tonight.”
Izuku’s expression tightened, and Tsukauchi nodded. “Whenever a report is filed with his description, he’s always around this area, like there’s something here that he wants. It’s almost like he has a goal. Maybe he’s in some sort of group, or maybe he’s like Stain or Ending, who knows?”
Izuku sucked in a breath at the mention of Stain.
It’d been a while since he’d heard that name.
Izuku tried his best to relax his shoulders and let out a strained breath before responding. “Thank you, Tsukauchi. Do we know his quirk yet? Is there a possibility that he is one of the Stain Idealists, and is just trying to send a message? Sticking to similar spots to keep consistent? Or maybe he’s just like Ending, as you mentioned before, and he’s driven by experience or an outside motivation, not by similarity?” Izuku looked off to the side and muttered about possible motives and potential dangers of not having him in cuffs right now.
Tsukauchi stared at him for a moment, and at the realization that he was muttering, Izuku whispered an apology. The detective sighed.
“We don’t have any information on his quirk because he won’t give us any correct credentials. Even better, every name he’s given us belongs to someone deceased.” Tsukauchi pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s such a nightmare.”
Izuku paled.
Something felt very, very wrong about all of this.
—
Ochako looked over from where she was packing up her hero suit: Just hearing the word "deceased" set her nerves on fire.
She glanced over at Izuku and noted his concerned expression, and at Tsukauchi, who looked like he might just throttle someone if he weren’t so tired.
She pursed her lips as she thought, and ultimately decided to file the information she had away and not insert herself just yet.
Ochako was content with minding her own business for now…to an extent. She’d probe Deku for information later.
But, more importantly, she had a bed with her name on it to get to.
—
Izuku noted the absence of the rest of his class and Uraraka walking away as he discarded his hero suit into its case.
He frowned to himself. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Todoroki.
Tsukauchi wrapped up his final thought—something about the officers almost detaining the villain—and Izuku said his goodbyes. As he retreated, he glanced over to the villain in question. The officers had pulled up a larger vehicle to contain him in and were still trying to get the guy in cuffs. He was putting up a damn good fight, biting and clawing and scratching, shouting something about revenge.
Should I intervene? Tsukauchi told me it was okay, so maybe it’s alright if I just head home… Izuku continued to walk, deciding to check his phone. A text from Kirishima sat unread on his lock screen.
“Taking Iida, Kaminari, and Sero home, Mina and Todoroki split the bill. Let me know if you need me to come back for you!”
Izuku smiled as he read the message. Kirishima is always so thoughtful. I’m glad that I have him as a friend.
He slipped his phone back in his pocket, and something cold grasped his neck.
“Found you.”
Izuku froze, and mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.
A hand was gripping his neck.
It felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of freezing cold water down his back. The frigid sensation spread all the way down his neck into his fingers, and momentarily, Izuku wondered if he’d been injected with something.
Izuku glanced through the corner of his eye at the assailant. Snot and thick tears dripped down the man’s face, and his thick white hair immediately raised serious alarm bells in Izuku’s head.
Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!!
“What do you mean, ‘found you’?” Izuku whispered as the hand was ripped away from his skin.
One would assume that the crook would dig his nails into Izuku’s neck, but no, he barely put up a fight. Izuku wasn’t sure which scared him more: the fact that the man grabbed him in the first place, or the fact that when he had, he’d stopped being combative altogether. A burlier officer, presumably new to the scene, pinned the man down with no trouble at all. They finally restrained him with the thick metal cuffs that covered his entire hand and placed him—with less force than the man deserved—into the van. Izuku rubbed at his neck. The man hadn’t stopped looking at him, with a snotty, demented smile that momentarily made him think of Toga.
Tsukauchi immediately rushed over, and Izuku continued to look on at the van as it drove away. “Deku, what in the hell just happened?” Izuku stayed quiet and attempted to ignore the pooling dread in his stomach. When Tsukauchi received no response, he continued with his questions. “Did he just… Did he just grab you?” The hero nodded, the icy feeling slowly inching away from his fingertips.
Tsukauchi, having noticed Izuku’s very apparent concern, tried his best to reassure him. “It was probably nothing, but you should probably come down to the station, just in case he had anything potentially dangerous on his hands.” Izuku nodded.
“I didn’t feel any pricks, so I don’t think it was anything injectable, if it’s anything at all.” He raised his hand from the spot where the man had grabbed him so Tsukauchi could examine it. “He was probably just looking for anyone in the area to rouse…” Tsukauchi gave him a somber look, which immediately reversed all of the comfort that he’d tried to give moments before.
Izuku looked like he might actually throw up right then.
The words didn’t even need to be spoken for Izuku to know what the detective might’ve been thinking.
“It would explain why he’s so consistent… Your office isn’t too far from here, is it?” Tsukauchi’s question wasn’t really a question. He knew the answer already, Izuku presumed.
“It’s a few blocks down.” The detective gave a sad nod to that answer and sighed deeply.
“How about you come down to the station tomorrow, unless something changes? I bet it’s been a long night for you, and from the information we have, it doesn’t seem like anything that could nip us in the butt.”
Izuku nodded. ”That sounds good.“
“Alright, stay safe, Midoriya. Call down if something happens.”
“Yeah, I will. Thank you, Tsukauchi, and I’m sorry that we didn’t get down here sooner. I hope he didn’t give you guys too much trouble.” Izuku started to rub his neck again, and Tsukauchi let a small, tired chuckle slip past his lips.
“Go home, Midoriya.” Izuku smiled and waved at Tsukauchi as he walked away. The green-haired boy started on his way back to the restaurant (so he could grab his backpack; he really hoped that they’d let him in, if they were even still open.)
The walk back to the restaurant was weirdly quiet, save for the occasional whistle of the breeze. The only people out at this hour were at bars or restaurants with their friends, so the streets were essentially deserted. The roads were lit only by the street lamps lining the sidewalk, and Izuku couldn’t help but feel a little creeped out as he approached the building.
The whole experience with that villain stuck in his head. The moment where his hand had grabbed Izuku replayed in his mind over and over and over and over again.
He really wished that he knew what the guy’s quirk was.
Izuku opened the door (only after having thoroughly examined the state of the place, just to be sure that he wasn’t breaking and entering). He figured it was safe to go in because of the light that still illuminated the room from when Class 1-A had dashed out. He carefully walked to where he, Todoroki, and Kirishima had sat, and extracted his bag from under the table. He rummaged through it to make sure nothing was out of place or gone. He made sure to leave the owners a big tip to account for their sudden disappearance: They’d already cleaned up after him and his friends, which was extremely kind, so Izuku thought it was the least he could do.
Leaving the building, Izuku pushed his backpack farther up on his shoulders with his free hand. The other hand held his suitcase.
Izuku still had a few streets to go down in order to get to his apartment, so he figured he should get a move on.
A shudder ran down his spine, like he was being watched. It’s nothing, right? Izuku glanced around, and, immediately after, steeled his gaze in front of him.
He tried his best to ignore the pair of red-colored eyes watching him go.
Notes:
Chapter title is from heavy focus, by Adrianne Lenker.
now we’re getting into the good stuff…
Chapter 4: I Found You
Summary:
Naomasa and company discuss the events of the night before, and Midoriya seems off. The interrogation goes smoothly, but at what cost?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Oh. Right.”
The younger boy put a hand on his head, smiling nervously. “So… uh… Thinking back to when we first met. I was a punk going through some stuff.” He reached his hand into his pocket and looked off to the side. “I guess I’ve lost my chance to ask.”
Katsuki held out a little All Might trading card, pristine, but clearly well loved from how delicately he’s packaged it. His free hand came up to grasp the side of his neck.
“Man, I wanted your autograph so bad.”
—
The continuous clinking of his spoon against his coffee mug acted as a metronome for Naomasa’s racing thoughts.
The green haired boy on the other side of the table was having a quiet conversation with Aizawa about the nature of the events that transpired the previous night, and Naomasa was attempting to gather his thoughts on the matter before he had to talk to the two of them about it.
He stopped stirring his drink and sat down, placing his coffee mug on a coaster to his right.
Everything about this felt wrong.
There was absolutely no reason for that guy to choose Midoriya, of all people, to harass. Or maybe there was, and that would be yet another unpleasant revelation for the detective to discover.
He reached down into one of the drawers in his desk, pulled out a manila file, and placed it in front of him.
Midoriya glanced over, and, after Naomasa waved them down, the two men sat down in their respective seats.
“Alright. Midoriya and Aizawa, thank you for coming down to the station. I appreciate your cooperation in this case thus far, Aizawa, and your willingness to contribute, Midoriya.” Aizawa scrunched his face just slightly and sighed.
“Of course I’m willing to help. It would be idiotic if I didn’t, given the case might be related to the one I’m working on now.”
The detective laughed quietly at the short haired man—he wasn’t sure how he felt about his new haircut, though he couldn’t dispute that it made the man look wiser, in a way—and gave him a small smile.
Midoriya seemed more jittery than usual, his gaze darting from thing to thing as if he was hearing a noise and was attempting to pinpoint where it was coming from. Naomasa had known the hero to have a generally anxious demeanor on the regular, so he didn’t register this behavior as unusual.
“So,” Aizawa began, “what information do we have on this guy?”
Naomasa sighed, flipping open the manila folder. “We have little to nothing aside from appearance and past charges. This is the first time we’ve successfully gotten him into the station.” He turned the papers to face the two other men and pushed the file towards them.
The first page had a mugshot of the perpetrator (taken as soon as he’d been apprehended the night before). Snot was crusted to his face, tear streaks still marring his cheeks.
It’d made Naomasa shudder the first time he’d seen it, because, despite all of this, the guy was still smiling. A smug, awfully delighted smile that almost made it seem like he was proud of himself.
Aizawa had a grimace momentarily ghost his lips, and Midoriya paled.
The information on the page was sparse, limited to his past crimes, his appearance, and locations law enforcement has attempted to detain him in the past (to no avail).
“All of our attempts at arrest have occurred in the same area: streets or other public spaces near Midoriya’s office. I think that maybe he was aiming to attract him to the scene, given that Midoriya is likely to be there during the days he isn’t teaching or out collecting data for his hero suit. It’s possible that the guy’s motive is based around him, similar to, as I mentioned last night, a villain from his high school years named Ending.”
The green haired teacher’s eyes brightened just slightly, his face still riddled with nerves. “Yeah, after really thinking about it last night, I think that might be the case. Ending had the same location-situation going on for a while in hopes of getting Endeavor to…well, kill him. And when the guy grabbed my neck—"Midoriya subconsciously placed his hand where the man had grabbed him"—he said, 'Found you.' So it’s very likely that—"
Aizawa swung his head to look at Midoriya, jaw clenched and eyes wide. Midoriya paused, seemingly expecting the lecture to come.
“Problem child, I swear to god if you didn’t tell Tsukauchi this when it happened, I’m going to make you assist Hizashi’s class on Monday.”
Midoriya flushed dark red, and his eyes widened. He flailed his hands around and stammered out an answer. “I didn’t even think about it at the time! Everything was going by so fast, and I didn’t even really register the significance of it until after Tsukauchi stepped in!” Midoriya slowly deflated, still sweating, still flustered, but not waving his hands around so much. He exhaled heavily, and leaned his head downward. “And please don’t make me help Present Mic, Mr. Aizawa, you know how much I struggled in English…” Aizawa glared at him, but it held no real malice. In fact, it was more likely because of the name Midoriya used for him than the lapse in judgement.
Naomasa sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and tapped his red pen (which he’d grabbed a few moments ago from his desk drawer) on the table a few times.
“Midoriya. I will say that I don’t blame you for not mentioning it, but it is still very important information to have.” Naomasa wrote down the new info on a notepad off to the side. “Now we know he was after you. That makes the interrogation easier on my end.”
Midoriya nodded sullenly and ran a finger over his neck again. The boy glanced to the side, then back to the floor.
“Midoriya, how have you been feeling? Anything out of the ordinary?”
The boy shook his head a little too quickly and slowly returned to his previous position.
“When he initially grabbed me, it was really cold—” He looked to the side and then back, and Naomasa furrowed his brow. “—like someone had poured cold water down my back? It’s hard to describe. I feel fine right now, and last night I felt a little off, but I think that’s a given when you’ve experienced something like that.” The back door to the station opened, and Midoriya flinched slightly at the noise.
“Tsukauchi! Sorry I’m late; I got caught in traffic.” A familiar blonde haired man stepped in, carrying a small white grocery bag.
“No worries, Yagi. We were just talking about the incident between the suspect and Midoriya.” He nodded, walked over, and held up the bag.
“I brought sticky buns.” Aizawa rolled his eyes. Midoriya smiled, but his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. Naomasa nodded towards the man, and Yagi took his seat.
“Thank you, All Might!”
Yagi’s expression dulled just a bit as he settle, placing the bag on an empty chair beside him.
“You can call me Toshinori, Young Midoriya. You shouldn’t feel compelled to refer to me so formally after everything that has happened between us.”
The younger man’s face pinched, and he muttered an apology.
Naomasa chuckled and shook his head. “Well, now that everyone is here, we can officially get into this.”
—
The overhead light in the interrogation room flickered on and off, similar to what you would see in a horror movie. The actual interrogation hadn’t even started, and yet, it was almost as if you could hear everyone’s heartbeats echoing off the walls.
Toshinori hated interrogations. As much of a public figure as he was in his prime, the man was never truly into things like interviews in the way that someone such as Nemuri or Mt. Lady could be, even if he took on so many.
This whole thing, given the purpose of it in this scenario was quite literally to be intrusive, gave him the creepy-crawlies. Especially since he was a man known to keep secrets.
Midoriya tapped his foot, occasionally turning around as if he’d been frightened by an unknown noise. Toshinori had noticed his jittery behavior while they discussed possibilities for the villain’s quirk, and though he wasn’t sure why his successor was acting this way, he assumed it couldn’t be good. He scooted over to the boy and tapped him on the shoulder. Midoriya jumped.
“Hey, hey, it’s just me. Are you feeling okay? You seem… jumpy. More than usual, anyway.”
Aizawa shot them a glare from across the small room, but Toshinori ignored it.
Midoriya smiled shakily, a bead of sweat rolling down the boy’s neck not going unnoticed by the blonde man.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a bit shaken up, I guess. It’s been a rough couple of days.” His successor rubbed his neck, which was where Toshinori had heard the villain had grabbed him. Concerning, at the least. “I think I’m just tired. It’ll wear off in a day or two…The nerves, I mean.” Izuku stammered out another explanation before Toshinori could respond to his previous one. The gaunt man sighed, and the interrogation room door on the other side of the two-way mirror (where the criminal and Tsukauchi will be) opened, almost as if on cue.
“Young Midoriya… I can’t say I trust that you’re telling the full truth, but I hope you know that you can talk to me if you need to.”
Midoriya nodded. The boy’s smile faded as he looked on at the event unfolding behind the glass.
The villain walked in (accompanied by two officers), cuffed and dressed in grey. His wild white hair was even less tamed than the night before, but his face was cleaner.
The officers placed the man in his respective chair and left. Not long after, Tsukauchi sat down in the chair opposite to him. The detective spared a glance towards the mirror, then focused all of his attention on the criminal in front of him. Aizawa visibly tensed.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
The man didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes trained directly on Tsukauchi, a deadpan, chillingly stoic expression on his face. Toshinori swore he felt a chill run down his spine, and goosebumps began to form on his arms.
“You have multiple warrants out for your arrest, the majority of them being on accounts of resisting arrest, public nuisance, and assault on law enforcement.” Tsukauchi leaned forward in his chair and placed his elbows on the table. “Do you claim to know about any of these charges?”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Midoriya’s foot created a sharp sound on the concrete floor, and the man stayed silent still.
Tsukauchi’s expression twisted subtly.
"Why did you attack the One For All Hero: Deku? Do you have business with him, or did you just pick the first person you saw to grab?”
A grin spread on the criminal’s face, and he laughed. Tears laced his waterline with the sheer force of his joy, and the sight made Toshinori feel sick to his stomach. Aizawa crossed his arms, and Midoriya looked as if he may pass out.
The man ceased his fit of laughter. Tears continued to stream down his face, and his demeanor dulled to a crazed kind of focus. The former symbol of peace couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.
“He needed to understand what it means to really suffer. To hear things that no one else can hear, to see the real monsters—“ The man paused; for whatever reason Toshinori was unaware”—of our society, and to not only see them but also be able to get up close and personal with them.”
The detective furrowed his brow, and his lips thinned. He didn’t speak for a moment, presumably to gather his thoughts.
Toshinori didn’t have any clue what any of that could mean, so he could only assume that Tsukauchi didn’t either.
”What is your quirk, if you’d be willing to tell me?”
Silence. And then, ever so slightly, the man cracked another smile. A sinister, Toga-esque smile that cut through the tense atmosphere like a hot knife through butter.
”I’m quirkless.”
—
The door creaked open with a prolonged squeak, and Naomasa was greeted by a very grim looking Aizawa, a concerned Yagi, and an out-of-it, paranoid Midoriya. Naomasa was getting increasingly concerned about the younger boy, but he wouldn’t mention it to him directly. He’d probably end up reaching out to one of his friends; maybe even talk to Yagi or Aizawa about it later.
“So. Was he telling the truth?” Naomasa snapped out of his haze, blinked a few times, and nodded to Aizawa’s question. Running a hand down his face, Naomasa gave an exasperated sigh and leaned against the wall beside the door.
”As soon as I asked him about Midoriya, he spilled everything. I had a feeling that might happen, but still…” The corners of Naomasa’s eyes cinched in his grimace. “We have a full name for him now, Aizawa. Kodama Seihachi. That’s not something these kinds of people tend to just give out. It’s clear that something changed during that interrogation; I just… I just don’t know what.” Yagi gave him an apologetic look.
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon enough. In all the years that I’ve known you, Tsukauchi, you’ve never outright failed to close a case.”
The tired man nodded, crossing his arms.
Aizawa huffed and jerked a thumb towards the door. “If that’s all…” He almost seemed apologetic in his mannerisms now. “I have to patrol tonight, and Hizashi wants me back in time to have dinner before I go.”
Midoriya gave a curt nod and shot the group a quick, very fake smile.
“Yeah, I have to… uh… go grade papers. Mhm, yup! My class had an exam before break, and I have yet to grade them. Silly me!” Yagi tightened his lips, and Aizawa shot a glare at the boy's blatant lie. Naomasa figured it was better to assume that the boy had his reasons for lying rather than to keep him from whatever he actually needed to go do.
“Okay, thank you for coming down today. I apologize that it took so long, and I hope you all have a good night.” He turned to look specifically at Midoriya. “Let me know if anything changes.” He turned back to address the whole group. “Take care, you three.” Naomasa waved to the lot of them and walked off into the station, and the man just barely made out the sound of the front door opening and closing hurriedly as who he could only assume was Midoriya rushed out.
Yeah. He was going to have to keep tabs on that, wasn’t he.
Notes:
Chapter title is from the song I Want You by Mitski.
apologies for the late upload!! I’ve been in and out of airports for the past week or so. This is a chapter I’ve been avoiding like the plague due to the interrogation portion of it. Sorry if it’s stale!!
Some good information to have for this chapter is that Tsukauchi’s family is known to have lie detector quirks (as shown in his sister Makoto, featured in MHA: Vigilantes), so despite no mention of a quirk for Naomasa himself, I’ve implemented a simple polygraph-esque quirk that just lets him know whenever someone is lying to him.
also, I can guarantee that I will absolutely mess up names and have to go back and edit them as I go. please forgive me. secondary also, do not mind the long notes. it is an addiction I have so my condolences in advance. long notes my beloved.
the bakugou snippet… noo my shayla… my shayla…
Chapter 5: Do You Not, Do you Not Tell?
Summary:
Izuku is hearing voices, and apparently Uraraka is too. ft. winter jackets in late spring and a disgustingly fruity drink.
OR
Izuku tries to figure out why he’s hearing voices and confides in Uraraka. ft. a trip to the café.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Izuku wasn’t sure how to tell his friends that he was hearing voices. I mean, I should tell them, shouldn’t I?
It’s not like they were telling him anything bad, per se—Well, they weren’t really telling him anything at all. Izuku was catching static-y, underwater-ish snippets of conversations among voices with no bodies to accommodate them. He was hearing clipped, barely discernible pieces of a woman’s grocery list for the day; he was hearing muffled conversation about bacon and eggs being so kindly cooked for a hung-over boyfriend, and he was hearing fuzzy quips about a family of five’s pizza order for movie night. They were going to watch “Alien” and pretend it was the first time they’d seen it, from what he’d gathered.
As he walked into the sakura tree lined clearing, Izuku put his hands into his pockets. It was kind of sweet; he couldn’t deny that much. But the constant disembodied chatter had made it awfully hard for the boy to focus during his very important, possibly life-altering police station rendezvous.
He was ninety-nine percent sure that Detective Tsukauchi had noticed something was off, and if he had noticed, that meant Mr. Aizawa had probably noticed, which meant All Might had probably noticed, and oh, he was getting way ahead of himself.
It was mid-afternoon by the time Izuku had left the station. The breeze was a welcome respite from the summer heat that was creeping into Musutafu, and given that he and his class were on spring break, the man had plenty of time to enjoy it. When he wasn’t grading work from before the break or doing hero work, that was.
In spite of the nice weather, though, Izuku still had to figure out why he was hallucinating before anyone got too worried. (Including himself, for once.) Though it wasn’t like anyone knew other than him…He paused in front of the infamous All Might statue and sucked in a deep breath.
”I could just be tired; maybe I’ve been overworking myself? Or maybe I ate something funny? If it were a drug that the villain had given me, then I’d probably feel much worse, like a bad high? Though I’ve never tried that kind of thing before, given it’s super illegal and all, so I don’t really know that much about it…and since that guy was a criminal, I wouldn’t put it past him to have been in possession of something with hallucinogenic properties…”
Izuku, after his muttering session had concluded, figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and focus on the muddied conversations that he was hearing in hopes of getting his answer. His heartbeat quickened. He probably looked a bit crazy to any onlookers, just standing there mumbling things about hallucinogenics to himself. Did he really care, though?
Crap. He needed to focus.
He ceased his mumblings and sat down on the edge of the statue. Maybe if I close my eyes, then I can figure out where they’re coming from? He placed a hand over his mouth and leaned forward, his elbows landing gently on his knees.
"Yeah… That could work…?" He muttered into his hand and shut his eyes. What would Jiro do? He figured that she would try to tune out any outside noise first, then maybe she would try to hone in on one thing in particular? Yeah, that sounded right. He totally wasn’t freaking out. Everything was fine. Yup.
He took a deep breath in hopes of slowing his ever quickening train of thought.
Here goes.
He attempted to tune out the whistle of the breeze against nearby trees and zoomed in on a static-y conversation that was supposedly happening everywhere (and nowhere) at once. It was like a fuzzy radio station that never got quite enough signal to make the music discernible, but you could still feel the bass in the speakers of your car. He furrowed his brow.
What are you saying?
As he focused harder and harder, the voice became just barely discernible. The voice was coming from a woman; young, from the sound of it.
“uch—nice—day—I—nk—ay—be—ll—an—de—oun—uh—aza—r—a—isle.”
…
Okay, so that wasn’t working.
No matter how hard the teacher tried, he just couldn’t get the voice to string together a full, uninterrupted sentence. The conversations had been clearer when he wasn’t paying attention, which was…mildly frustrating, to say the least.
Izuku didn’t really have a plan B, and his plan A was kind of a shot in the dark in the first place, so… he was kind of lost from there. What sane person even tries to discern their auditory hallucinations for god's sake? Most people just descend into madness… at least, that’s what Izuku had picked up from all the scary movies he’d consumed over the years.
He didn’t really want to descend into madness, believe it or not.
So, he needed to think of a better solution.
He could message Tsukauchi…though that would likely put a wrench in the case… But it could also be really good information! But the guy had said he was quirkless, and according to a later email from the detective, the quirk registry database had affirmed that. So that was off the table. If he told All Might, he would probably just worry his head off, and if he told Aizawa, the man would probably scold him about overworking himself again.
He pulled out his phone, entered in the passcode, and clicked on the first person he thought to text.
—
The rosy cheeked girl was working on a few final tasks around her office when Deku texted her. She picked up her phone, pinky up so as to not make it float away, and clicked on the unopened message.
Deku: Hey, Uraraka, can we talk?
Her face pinched into a worried expression. Ochako’s fingers quickly tapped at the digital keyboard on her phone to write out a response.
You: yeah ofc, is everything okay?
The three floating dots that marked Deku typing jumped in time with her heartbeat. She really hoped nothing was really super wrong.
Deku: Can we meet at the café down by the plaza? If you’re not too busy
Ochako started pulling on her jacket as soon as she read his response, typing with one hand as she fought the buttons on her coat with her teeth (in lieu of her other hand, which was typing a hasty response.)
You: yub, i’ll be threre iijn a frw!
She didn’t really care about the typos, though she didn’t doubt that her green-haired friend would wonder what she might have been doing to have made so many in one sentence. Flinging open the door and walking out into the unusually warm April weather, all she could think was: What happened?
—
“Hey, Deku!” Uraraka waved from the entrance to the café to Izuku, who was already in line to order a coffee for himself (he’d planned to guess what Uraraka might have wanted, and by his assessment of what she’s ordered at events in the past, he would have probably been almost entirely correct.) She trotted over, dressed in a coat that was far too puffy for the weather. Izuku grinned, albeit with a confused look on his face.
“Uraraka… Why are you wearing a jacket?”
The girl’s face flushed a bright pink, and she immediately looked down at her attire. “Oh my god, I didn’t even register that I’d put that on. I just wasn’t really paying attention, I guess?” She looked to Izuku’s left, arms tight at her sides. “It’s usually the first thing I put on when I get ready to go somewhere, and I guess my head was elsewhere.” She looked up from her flustered fervor with a smile and a hot flush of pink coloring her cheeks. “Can we just ignore that, please?”
Izuku nodded. “Yeah, no problem.” His gaze darted around the shop, towards and away from the chatter of unknown origin. It was hard to tell which conversations were actually happening between actual people and which were in his head. It was somehow worse in more populated places, it seemed.
“Hello, Earth to Deku!” Uraraka was waving a hand in front of his face now, and Izuku found himself feeling quite bad for zoning out on her. He blinked a few times, and she continued talking. “The line?”
He swung his head to look at the ever-shortening line, which had left him standing basically in the middle of the café with no one in front of him for a distance equal to at least three people.
“Ah, sorry!!” Walking up towards where the line actually ended, Izuku tried his best to focus on the situation at hand rather than the multiple people giving their orders to the barista (when he was quite sure there was only one.) “Uhm, what drink do you want? I can pay.” His fingers fiddled with the wallet in his pocket, worrying at the seams. Uraraka seemed to debate her next words very carefully before she said them.
“Mmmm… Maybe something cold. Some sort of iced tea, maybe. Ooooh, wait, that looks good!” She pointed at a fruity drink on the menu above the counter. Something with strawberry and dragon fruit that looked too pink to be natural.
The person in front of the line finished ordering and stepped away, leaving one more person in front of them. “What are you going to get, Deku?” Uraraka beams up at Izuku. He gives a hesitant smile. ”I don’t think I’ve ever seen you order coffee before, come to think of it…”
He tensed at that statement, and his hand came up to grasp the back of his neck. “Yeah… that’s because I usually only drink coffee at night. Grading, am I right?” He grimaced at how fake his words sounded. Uraraka immediately caught on, and her face pinched into something akin to confusion, worry, and horror all at once.
“That was horrible. Like, that was actually extremely painful to listen to.” Izuku nodded dejectedly. She patted him on the shoulder, shaking her head theatrically with a sullen look on her face. ”We’ll discuss that in a moment.”
They approach the counter and order their drinks: Uraraka ordered that awful-sounding fruity drink with a name that had enough alliteration to kill a man, and Izuku ordered a simple mocha of sorts. It sounded interesting, and he felt like he needed the caffeine.
It didn’t cost that much, and the barista had absolutely recognized the two of them out of costume, which led to a pretty significant discount. Izuku felt terrible, but Uraraka seemed to have gotten a kick out of it.
The two heroes sat down at a table directly in front of a large window that made up most of the front wall of the café. They made sure to put down coasters before placing their drinks so as to not damage the table.
Uraraka sighed, tilting her head to the side as she spoke. “Alright. What did you want to talk about, Deku? Something is clearly wrong, so don’t even try to backpedal!” She took a large sip of her drink while Izuku thought about what he was going to say in response.
“I’ve… uh… not been feeling too great?” He held his paper-covered cup in two hands, his thumbs tracing the edge of the sleeve the barista puts on your cup so you don’t burn your hands holding your drink. Uraraka gave him a look that told him she didn’t believe his shit for one minute.
“Go on.”
Izuku took a deep breath. It won’t be that bad if I just tell her, will it?
“I’ve been hearing voices.” He grimaced and waited for Uraraka to run away or dial Hound Dog’s number (if she even still had it; he certainly did. Heroes and teachers get troubled all the time. It couldn’t be that unusual for him to still have his guidance counselor’s number, could it?)
But she didn’t. Sure, she looked just as puzzled as he felt, but she didn’t seem afraid or overly concerned. Well, obviously she was concerned, but she wasn’t about to check him into a mental hospital or anything. Actually, if he looked really closely, she almost seemed relieved.
“Oh.” She furrowed her brow and took another sip of her drink. “Is it… anyone in particular? That you’re hearing, I mean.” Izuku shook his head, and Uraraka seemed to deflate a little bit.
“No, I don’t think so. It’s like…conversations…if that makes any sense?” Izuku lifted his cup but didn’t take a sip just yet. “It’s like I’m hearing people that aren’t there.”
Uraraka nodded slowly, as if she were digesting the information. “I’ve been experiencing something kind of similar, if that makes you feel better.” His eyes widened, and he almost spit out the drink that he’d just taken a sip of. He swallowed quickly so he could respond.
”Seriously? What’s happening? Are you okay?” She flushed a soft pink and immediately put her drink down, waving her hands around.
“Ack, I’m okay! It’s fine!” She shrunk into herself, drawing lines in the condensation on her cup. “It’s probably nothing. We’re here to talk about your voices, not mine.”
A sad sort of chuckle escaped Izuku.“Yeah, I guess that is why we’re here… but we can talk about yours too, if you want.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds good. For starters. When did this begin?”
“Last night. Or… er… early this morning. I’m not so sure anymore.”
Uraraka took a sip of her drink. Izuku followed suit.
“Are they… nice?”
The boy smiled at the way she worded that question. “Elaborate.”
“Do they tell you to do bad things?”
“No, they don’t. I’m hearing about grocery lists, not homicide.”
Uraraka leaned downwards and placed her chin on her right hand. “That’s odd…”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Izuku paused to let her process the information (and to give himself a moment to collect his thoughts into a coherent sentence.) “It’s like they’re underwater, though, or maybe on a scratched record? I can’t fully make out what they’re saying unless I’m not really paying attention to them.”
“That sounds so frustrating. I’d want to know what they’re saying if I’m hearing them in the first place!” She raised her hand up and off her chin, making an exaggerated peeved face.
Izuku beamed. “Exactly! I tried to listen in, but all I could get was bits and pieces. She kept cutting out in the middle of words.”
Uraraka smiled, a confused tinge to her expression. “She?”
Izuku looked down at his cup of now lukewarm coffee. “Yeah. It varies. I’ve heard quite a few women, from what I can tell. I’m trying to figure out if I’m just really tired or on some kind of very specific high.” Uraraka gasped, and the connotation of his words hit Izuku right in the face.
“Deku, how the hell would you be high?!” She stood up and slammed her hands down on the table, and Izuku panicked.
“Oh my god, don’t say that so loud! Jesus, Uraraka!” She squeaked and glanced around at the concerned customers looking on at the scene. She muttered an apology and sat back down.
“I mean, I just didn’t take you for the type to do that, given it’s very very illegal! Deku, that’s not o—“
“I’m not doing drugs, Uraraka!” Izuku chided her in a stage-whisper, an icy pool of dread forming in his belly. “I would never do something like that. Like you said, it’s illegal. I feel like that’s against, like… every principle of being a hero.” He put two hands over his head, clamping down on his hair, elbows digging into the table. “I had an encounter with the villain from last night. He grabbed my neck, and it’s entirely possible that he might’ve had substances on his fingers, though I have no idea how that would work. Some frogs and toads have that kind of effect, right? They’ve got to have, like, slime or something that he could have had on his hands…”
Uraraka snapped in front of his face. “You’re muttering, Deku. Don’t get off topic. And… what? You had a run in with the Gareki Street guy? Why didn’t you tell anyone? I mean, I saw you talking to Detective Tsukauchi, but I didn’t really think anything of it in the moment. I was gonna text you about it later, actually.”
“It happened after you left, and I didn’t really think it mattered that much.” Izuku looked up from the table. “You’re the only one I’ve told so far. Please don’t tell anyone else.”
She gave a quick nod. “Of course.”
Neither of them spoke for a moment. The afternoon bustle of the café, alongside the nonexistent bustle of everywhere else, took the place of their chatter.
“Do you want to tell me about your voices?”
Uraraka laughed quietly, but it wasn’t a nervous laugh or a giddy chuckle; it sounded sad. ”I’ve been dreaming about Toga.”
Izuku nodded, adjusting himself so that he was sitting normally. “The villain?” She nodded, tears already lining her eyes. Crap! He raised his hands to his mouth and back down. “Uraraka! Oh god, I didn’t mean to make you cry! We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to!”
She shook her head profusely, clenching her fists in her lap. “No, it’s fine. It just makes me sad, that’s all.” She sniffled, letting her tears fall rather than trying to wipe them away. “It feels like she’s really there. I think that maybe when she gave me her blood, she came with it. Or maybe like… a part of her?” She took another large sniffle, coughing when she took in a gulp of air alongside it. “She gives me advice, tells me what I should do when everything is hard.” Uraraka looks up. “She told me to go after you at one point.”
Izuku smiled somberly. “That sounds like something she would say. She had a lot of love in her.” Uraraka nodded, very clearly trying her hardest not to ugly cry in the middle of that café.
“I had such a huge crush on you, and she just knew! She knew during the war, she knew before it, and even in death, she knew! It’s not fair that she had to die!”
Izuku sighed. “Uraraka… I will always be here for you. Obviously, I won’t be there in that way, because things are different now. We both know that. But I will be there in every other way I can be. We’ll figure out our voices together, yeah?” The girl laughed wetly and nodded. Izuku held out a hand over the table, and she took it with a sad smile.
“Yeah. I’d like that.“
Notes:
Chapter title is from symbol by Adrianne Lenker.
we’ve reached over 10,000 words, and over 20 kudos / 250 hits! this is very exciting to me. I love that people are reading my work and enjoying it! feel free to leave comments or just simply lurk around in bookmarks. i’m always up to answer questions vaguely and ominously!!
this is the longest chapter so far at 3,093 words!
also imagine playing where’s waldo but instead of finding waldo, you try and find past chapter references in my fics. go on. name how many 430-431 references are in this chapter. i dare you. anyway i love callbacks to previous chapters or to the canon so be on the lookout for them!! point them out and you get a gold star
Chapter 6: Sleep Paralysis, I Swore I Could Have Felt You There
Summary:
Izuku has trouble sleeping, drinks some sake, and a certain someone makes himself known.
Notes:
this is a heavy chapter; when you’re exhausted, it gets harder to hide feelings you’ve been trying to ignore. TW for mentions of scars and mentions of / slight depiction of self harm, and well as alcohol consumption (though I’m unsure if I need to put a TW for that.)
please take care of yourself!! I’ll be putting a few hotlines at the end of this chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Uraraka: just checking in <3 it’s been a few days since we chatted and I wanted to make sure you were okay
SEEN.
Uraraka: are you okay?
SEEN.
Uraraka: i’m getting kind of worried here, deku.
it’s not like you to not respond
SEEN.
…
Uraraka: deku?
SEEN.
Uraraka: call me when you have a chance
SEEN.
—
Izuku flipped his phone screen-down on his bedside table and rolled over onto his back. He should really respond to Uraraka, but he just didn’t have the energy. If he wasn’t going to respond, though, he should probably turn off his read receipts.
He would eventually.
Maybe.
It’d been far too long since Izuku had slept for more than an hour at a time. He wasn’t really sure what he’d expected to happen. The voices didn’t just stop when he needed to sleep or eat or do anything of any importance. Matter of fact, they’d gotten louder. More insistent. Earplugs barely helped anymore.
It was almost as if the voices were coming from inside his head, which, to his point, they kind of were; from his understanding of the whole debacle, anyway.
He slammed a pillow onto his face. He wished for nothing more than an ounce of quiet, even if it was just for five. Fucking. Minutes.
”Shut up.” He moaned into the white fabric, and, instead of silence, he was met with the usual incessant chatter of his newfound roommates. Consistent voices that he could recognize by their intonation and manner of speech. He made a frustrated noise and threw the pillow off to the other side of his bed.
It had been getting warmer the past few days; the Tokyo metropolitan area was in a bit of a hot pocket. It would go away soon enough, but as of right then, Izuku had resorted to ‘sleeping‘ shirtless.
He sat up, giving up on even attempting to sleep, and stretched his arms out.
They were heavily scarred, and a bit bigger than they were in high school. (Of course they were. He was twenty five, for goodness sake.) He figured tracing the thick white and dark pink lines with his eyes was a suitable distraction from the whispers threatening to tear his skull open.
Most of them were from fights with villains, or training, or…
He frowned slightly at the burn scars on his shoulders, and immediately internally reprimanded himself for even thinking about him.
He shook the thought away and took a breath, letting his eyes fall down to the scars on his stomach.
He rarely had any injuries that scarred on his torso, aside from a few burns dotting his collarbone and a few angry, jagged lines on his right hip. Despite all of these blaringly obvious injuries, most likely from the final war or just before, he found himself examining the thin lines marking his lower left hip and belly more closely. Most of them were white, but just a few of them were still a sickening pink.
He wasn’t proud of them.
Middle school had been hard for Izuku. Of course it was; Kacchan never gave him a break, his teachers constantly belittled and coddled him, and All Might, his idol, had quite literally told him that his one dream in life, his one aspiration, his one reason for living, was unattainable because of his quirklessness.
Even after he’d received One For All, that day still stuck in his head. Sure, All Might had apologized profusely when he’d gotten older, but Izuku couldn’t help but feel a bit of resentment towards the man‘s actions.
Doing… that…was a way for little Izuku to punish himself for being so weak. So helpless.
“You wouldn’t even cut it as a Rent-A-Cop!”
He was just a useless Deku, after all.
“Just pray that you'll be born with a quirk in your next life and take a swan dive off the roof of the building.”
He’d put down the knife when he got into Yuuei.
Things had finally been looking up for Izuku, and he thought that he would be okay from then on.
And he had been. He had no reason to be punished, because he was helping people! He was really helping people, and that made him happier than any thought of release could.
Then, his best friend died, and Izuku stopped really living for a while. He had basically haunted the year or two following Bakugou Katsuki’s untimely death, not to mention all the thoughts of joining him.
But there was no reason to dwell on that. Or him, for that matter.
He’d only done it a few more times after that. Only when he needed to feel something other than melancholy or pain-stakingly heavy apathy.
Maybe hearing voices was a half-decent excuse to pick it back up.
The boy let his arms fall down to his equally scarred legs, and debated the thought. He was just tired. He wasn’t thinking straight.
Some coffee wouldn’t hurt, would it? Just to get his head straight.
He hadn’t realized he was crying until he went to rub his sleep-deprived eyes, and his hand had come back wet.
Izuku stood up from his bed, not bothering to grab a tissue to dry his tears before he got up to make some coffee.
Or, more accurately, got up with the goal of making some coffee.
By the time the tired teacher had made it to the kitchen, he’d decided that this was a matter to be solved by a glass of sake.
He was allowed a drink once and a while, yeah? Especially since everyone was on spring break, and he was ninety nine percent sure he didn’t have anything scheduled the next day. He didn’t plan on getting drunk, though. He just wanted a bit of alcohol to take the edge off. That was all.
He grabbed an unopened bottle from the cupboard and placed it on the counter alongside a large metal pot. His oven always took a while to actually boil anything, so he settled to use his kettle to preemptively heat the water. All it took was him clicking down the little tab on the device for it to start working, which left him taskless until said device was done doing its job.
He slumped down onto the ground, leaning back against his kitchen counter. The tears hadn’t stopped flowing, but he hadn’t really cried. It was more like water falling down his face than anything else.
Why was he even crying in the first place? All that stuff from before just made him kind of numb, if he was being honest. Maybe angry at times, maybe sad, but it wasn’t the kind of thing he cried over anymore. What’s done is done, or whatever.
Maybe it was thinking about Kacchan.
As much as he hated to admit it, he thought about him a lot more than he let on, if the reunion had said anything about it at all. And yes, he cried every time. So what? It was sad. He was allowed to be sad.
Click.
Izuku was snapped out of his head by the telltale click of his kettle. He stood and poured the boiling water into the pot, and then slowly placed the bottle of sake in. It would only take a few minutes for the alcoholic drink to warm to Izuku’s liking, so he took out a glass while he waited.
He glanced towards the clock by his bed. 2:44 AM. He probably looked pretty pathetic right then, getting ready to drink sake shirtless in the middle of his kitchen so early in the morning. Though he could technically justify himself because of the fact that people drank at that time all the time at bars, but it felt a little weirder doing it in his own home. Alone. Or, not really alone in his case, but still. It wasn’t like the voices could pay attention to or care about that kind of thing; they weren’t even real.
Izuku had practically jumped at his sake when he realized it’d been just about the amount of time he’d aimed to warm it for, taking the slightly bubbling bottle out of the water carefully (so as to not break it.) He grabbed his cup from the other end of the counter and, with two hands on the bottle, poured himself a glass.
Slinking back down to the floor, he placed the bottle to his left and took a swig. He grimaced at the sudden bitterness coating his mouth. Yup. That’ll do it.
Even after he’d downed two or three glasses of sake, that familiar itch on his stomach lingered. He just felt dizzy and upset now as well.
Izuku was a lightweight, he knew that. He’d really only meant to have one glass. Now here he was, sitting on the floor, tears crusted to his face with the same urge he’d aimed to suppress with the alcohol.
The unbalanced boy, only tipsy (but still inebriated) stood up and walked over to his bed, abandoning the bottle and glass on the floor.
”It’s in here somewhere, I know it is,” He slurred to himself, rummaging through his bedside drawer in search of his pocket knife. Sober Izuku would have been crying by now, but tipsy Izuku, with all the voices muffled by the warm feeling in his chest, was deadpan as ever. Usually he cried when he was drunk, but not tonight. ”There it is.”
He pulled out an All-Might themed knife that he’d gotten from some random gas station a few years back. He’d seen it and immediately knew he had to have it, even if he didn’t really have any plans for it at the time. It had two little hair tufts poking out of one end, and the rest was the pattern of All Might’s Golden Age costume. Izuku felt a little bad tarnishing it, so, with a hesitant huff, he put it back in the drawer and continued rummaging around for something else.
All Might would be so disappointed.
That thought made his stomach twist with nausea.
Finally, after a few minutes of searching, he found a boxcutter under his bed from when he’d unboxed his new lamp a week or two before. He’d accidentally broken it trying to shut off his alarm, and it’d been far more expensive than he would have liked to replace it.
He sat down below his bed and reached for the razor, which, to his displeasure, bounced off his fingertips. He whined and reached for it again, and found that it had moved. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. Depth perception was known to be affected by alcohol, right?
Izuku fell to his belly and let out a pained oof. He stretched farther, and when he finally held the orange handle in his fingers, he inched out from under the bed and let his legs straighten in front of him.
Did he really want to do this? Despite the pool of warmth in his chest, he still felt sad. It was such a heavy sadness. It was a sadness that made his lungs feel full of mud, a melancholy so thick that it made him feel like he was drowning in it.
He’d only do it once. Yeah. Then he’d put it away.
He clicked open the blade with shaky fingers (since when had his hands been shaking?) and traced the familiar spot on his stomach with his free hand. When he had just begun to lift it to his skin, his hand slipped. The tool bounced off of his knee and fell to the middle of the floor.
“St-Stupid…” He grumbled to himself as he reached to pick it up, whining when it fell away from him again. He picked it up, aimed it, and it slipped through his fingers once more. He made a frustrated noise, somewhere between a groan and a whine. He stretched his arm out, scrunching his face in displeasure. “Kacchan, give it back.”
He paused.
Why had he said that?
Kacchan wasn’t there.
He wouldn’t be there ever again.
He pulled back his arm slowly, eyes wide and mouth opened. And then, Izuku cried. He cried, and cried, and cried, until the force of his sobs made him taste bile in his throat. His heart felt like it might explode. (Oh my god.) That made him cry even harder, until he was almost dry heaving. He hiccuped and sniffled (to no avail; snot was running down his lips and into his mouth every time he opened it) like a child, curling in the corner between his bedside table and his bed.
Izuku fell asleep with tears marring his cheeks, an abandoned bottle of sake and his glass, the cold pot of water and the discarded boxcutter the only evidence of his troubles that night. He could regret it all in the morning. For now, all he wanted to do was curl up and die. Sleeping was the closest thing to that.
A breeze wafted in from the window just as he was closing his eyes (he thought it was from the window, at least), and the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was a warm breath on his cheek and a familiar voice whispering in his ear.
“Stop waiting for me, idiot.”
Notes:
Chapter title is from zombie girl by Adrianne Lenker.
This was a heavy chapter. If it seems like it came out of the blue, I apologize sincerely. That’s how it goes with these things sometimes, though. Recovery isn’t linear. You’re going to mess up, and that is okay. It doesn’t necessarily mean you’re not getting better. This may be mentioned again.
—
Lifeline Australia: 13 11 14 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 000.Beyond Blue (Australia as well): 1300 224 636
Lifeline Aotearoa: 0800 543 354 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 111.
U.S Suicide Prevention Hotline: 988 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 911.
UK Suicide Prevention Hotline: 0800 689 5652 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 999 or 112 depending on your region.
Swedish Suicide Prevention Hotline: 90101 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 112.
Spain’s Teléfono de la Esperanza: 717 003 717 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 112.
South Africa Suicide Prevention Hotline: dial 0800 567 567 or SMS 31393.
Samaritans of Singapore: 1767 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 999 or 995.
Russian Suicide Prevention Hotline: (495) 625 3101 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 112.
24/7 Romanian Hotline: 0800 080 100 or 116 123 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 112.
Mexican SAPTEL: (55) 5259–8121 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 911.
Lifeline Korea: 1588–9191 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 112 or 119
Korea’s Suicide Prevention Hotline: 109
Japan’s TELL: https://telljp.com/lifeline/ — head to this link for all the info. — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 110 or 119.
Italy’s Telefono Amica Cevita: 0299777 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 112.
Ireland’s Suicide Prevention Hoteline: Freephone 116 123 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 112 or 999
India’s 1Life: +91 78930 78930 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 112
Greece’s Suicide Hotline: 1018 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 112.
International Helpline Berlin: 030-44 01 06 07 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 110 for police, 112 for fire and ambulance.
France’s Suicide Prevention Hotline: 3114 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 112, or 15 for an ambulance.
Canada’s Suicide Prevention Hotline: 988 — if you’re in immediate danger, dial 911.
—I apologize if your country isn’t on here, or if the hotline I’ve shown is inaccurate. Please feel free to let me know of any mistakes on this list.
This story gets quite sad at times. Prioritize yourself over a story on the internet. Stay safe.
Chapter 7: Oldest Friend, Invisibly
Summary:
Shouta does some late night research, and Izuku recalls the events from his drunken fervor. ft. A pounding headache and a tidbit of Erasermic fluff.
Notes:
TW for light emetophobia, mention of self harm, mention of alcohol and depicted beginnings of a panic attack.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Shouta was ninety nine percent sure that the blue light from his computer screen had gone to his brain.
He had spent hours upon hours attempting to dig up old files and reports on Kodama Seihachi, the creep the station had taken custody of a few days earlier. And, to his displeasure, any information on the guy was few and far between.
He clicked off of a faulty source and sighed. Shouta’s eyelids were laden with exhaustion.
As soon as the man had heard about the criminal’s very, increasingly possible association with his problem child (he still considered all of his students his problem children, even after their graduation from Yuuei High; though he would never admit it out loud), he’d plunged himself into the familiar world of Japan’s government database. More specifically the people side of it. Shouta was less concerned about the man’s possible outside affiliations at that moment, and more concerned about the possibility of Kodama’s involvement in previous aspects of Midoriya’s life. Could they have known each other outside of school? Maybe they went to the same middle school? What reason could this guy have for doing this? Did they have an altercation, or is this guy just batshit crazy? The guy couldn’t have just known where Midoriya’s office was; he had to have gotten that information from somewhere. But where?
Shouta groaned and leaned back in his chair. The bookmarked tab of the quirk-registry database Tsukauchi had sent to him (only accessed by those with proper clearance) stared at him, almost taunting his will. He placed his hands over his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, then leaned forward once more. He clicked on it with a sluggish finger.
———
Kodama Seihachi
DOB: 20XX - 06 - 13
QUIRK: N/A
-
MOTHER
Kodama Ichika
DOB: 20XX - 04 - 27
QUIRK: X-RAY Vision
She can see through inorganic objects at will. It is not activated constantly, and can only be activated by the user’s command.
-
FATHER
Kodama Yuto
DOB: 20XX - 12 - 09
QUIRK: Rot
He can rot organic objects at will. He can also bring rotten objects back to their original state. It has proven to work especially well on fruit, Kodama Yuto states. He also mentions that he has not attempted to use it on any animal matter.
———
Shouta had read that form over, and over, and over again. He couldn’t bring himself to understand what was going through that man’s head.
Sure, he had no quirk. That was unfortunate, given that only 20% of people (most likely even less now) were born quirkless. He’d been given the short stick. It was too bad, but there was nothing to be done about it. But that couldn’t have been the only motivator, right? Kodama hadn’t given them anything else, so they just sort of had to assume it had something to do with his quirk… or lack of one, so to speak. Tsukauchi was really saying too much when he’d claimed the guy had “spilled everything.” All he gave was what they already had, even if it’d seemed monumental in the moment. His name, his date of birth, some family history, a minuscule part of his motive…
“He needed to understand what it means to really suffer.”
From the information Shouta had gathered, the guy had had a tough life so far; the information in his family records was enough to tell that much. His school records were all but nonexistent, as was literally everything other than his family history and quirk registry form. And even then, those were typically the same document nowadays, with quirks being more prominent than ever.
That didn’t mean he got to tell his student he didn’t know how hard things could get.
He didn’t have a goddamn clue what his problem child Midoriya had been through.
Shouta sighed. That made him feel a little better.
He didn’t know anything about what Midoriya had been through.
That meant he likely only had surface level information on the kid, unless he was putting up a mask to fool the interrogators and the heroes. Shouta really hoped he didn’t know more than he let on, because if he did, this case was about to get a whole lot messier.
“Sho…”
Shouta hadn’t even realized Hizashi had come into the room. His husband, carrying a cup of hot tea (“Shouta, you drink so much coffee that I can almost guarantee your blood is caffeinated”, his husband had said. Therefore, he was subjected to tea), walked up beside his tired partner and placed his free hand on his shoulder.
“You’ve been at it for a while. You should take a break.” Shouta grumbled, still looking at the screen as Hizashi placed his offering on the table, not bothering with a coaster. (“They’re annoying, and there’s no point in using them if I’m just going to forget it the moment I pick up my cup.”) “I lied. I’m making you take a break.” The blonde put pressure on the muscle between his neck and shoulder with the heel of his hand, and Shouta had to bite back a moan.
“Ow,” He grumbled, feigning annoyance. He leaned back, and, despite his best wishes, let his husband continue to push the knots out of his neck. Hizashi chuckled to himself, and Shouta picked up the mug of tea. It smelled like Earl Grey. He hummed as he took the cup to his lips.
(The tea wasn’t all that bad, he supposed.)
Hizashi tapped him on the neck with his index finger. ”May I?”
Shouta had almost forgotten his husband was there (for which he felt a twinge of guilt; maybe he really did need a break), and he nodded without any apprehension when his delightful partner curled into his lap. It was hot, but Shouta rarely said no to Hizashi’s requests; most likely because his husband knew how to keep his asks reasonable. Yeah. That was totally it. Not because Shouta was secretly a softie. And a little sweat never hurt anyone, had it?
“You’re worried about Midoriya.” Shouta nodded, humming an acknowledgement. Hizashi let his head fall to the crook of Shouta’s neck, his long, pin-straight hair cascading down the scruffy man's chest. “He’ll be okay, he can handle his own problems. You just need to trust that he can take care of himself.”
—
Izuku wasn’t gonna make it.
I mean, he was, in a more literal sense, but from a “I’m-not-gonna-go-crazy” standpoint? Izuku was royally fucked.
For starters, he’d woken up on the floor, with snot crusted to his face and puffy eyes. There was a boxcutter open on the floor, and a bottle of sake abandoned in the kitchen. None of that was a good thing. Izuku made a note to himself to not let himself drink until this whole thing was resolved.
Secondly, the voices were almost deafening now. Izuku wasn’t sure how things could go so terribly in only… What, six days? Time felt incredibly slow right then.
There were only so many days left in the school holiday, and after those days elapsed, Izuku would have to go back to teaching. And even before then, he would still have hero work to do. How was he even supposed to do that with all this excess noise? He had no doubt in his mind that he would miss most small noises (an excellent example being, I don’t know, someone coming up behind him?) with his ghostly companions droning on about god knows what in his head. Ghostly wasn’t quite the right word, but his head was throbbing far too hard for him to care.
Izuku sighed, running a hand down his face.
He’d fucked up big time.
That is why I still have Hound Dog’s number.
The boxcutter stared at him from the middle of his floor, mocking his resolve. Izuku had worked so hard to stop. As much as he told himself it wasn’t a big deal, he knew deep down that it had been hard to quit. As much as it was ‘only discipline’ to him, he knew that if he hadn’t dropped the boxcutter, he would have done something that he would have royally regretted in the morning.
As if he didn’t regret it enough having not done it. Having even thought about it at all made Izuku feel incredibly guilty.
He stood up from his corner, letting out a pained noise as his back pinched, as if to say that’s what you get for sleeping in the corner, idiot. He stumbled around his bed to retrieve a white shirt he’d worn a few days prior. He lifted the shirt to his nose to check if it was truly disgusting. It wasn’t that bad. He slipped the shirt on and made his way over to the middle of the room.
Grumbling guiltily to himself, he picked up the knife and stowed it away in his bedside drawer. He paused as he was walking away, turned back, and took it out. On his way into the kitchen, he slipped it, alongside his All Might pocket knife and his stock of kitchen knives, onto the top of the pantry. He was tall enough to reach them standing on a chair if he needed the kitchen knives for cooking, and if he was delirious with panic, he wouldn’t have the dexterity to retrieve them. It’s a good plan, he thought.
He pushed the chair he’d used to get up to the top of the pantry back in, and grabbed his bottle of sake from the floor. He put the rim of the bottle to his nose and grimaced at the sour, vinegar-y scent.
Crap.
That sake wasn’t cheap, either.
He groaned. The mixture of leaving the bottle uncapped and the high temperatures probably oxidized that thing at triple the speed. Izuku poured the remaining contents of the bottle (which was the majority of it; It was kind of like watching your entire wallet empty onto the train tracks through the gap) into the sink and recycled the bottle afterwards. He could have sworn he heard laughing amongst the barrage of conversation around him. Coincidence.
He picked up his abandoned glass and placed it in the dishwasher, sighing when all the tidying of the night before was finished. It wasn’t that much, but Izuku still felt heavy afterwards. It was likely because of his pounding headache, which was not being helped by the voices threatening to drown him in their sheer quantity and volume. Or maybe it was because of the icy pool of what Izuku thought was regret forming in his stomach. Low, low, in his stomach, like it was making it’s home in the curves of his pelvis.
He shuddered at the thought.
Izuku made his way to the small grey couch in his living area and sat down, rubbing a hand over his face. What had he done?
Well, he’d drunk one too many glasses of sake (two too many), he’d almost harmed himself in the midst of his grief, and then he’d gone to sleep in a position no one should ever sleep in. His back hurt like the anger of a thousand suns. Izuku closed his eyes and tried to picture if he’d done anything else that he could add to his list of regrets.
“Stop waiting for me, idiot.”
Wait.
Hold on.
What was that?
What was he remembering?
Izuku felt himself pale, the pool of regret quickly turning into burning nausea.
That had to have been from a drunken dream. That was the only valid explanation. Because for one, he’d been able to make out a very clear voice. That hadn’t happened yet, and he’d been hearing voices for like… five entire days. (Which felt a lot longer than it should have due to lack of sleep, most likely.) And secondly, the voice had been someone he knew. A voice that he could recognize in a busy train station, a voice he could recognize when the commotion around them was almost blinding in its intensity.
Kacchan.
It had to be a dream. That, or his head was playing a sick, sick joke on him. It was cruel to taunt a drunk, grieving man with the voice of his deceased best friend.
Yeah. No more alcohol.
Maybe his sake going sour was a blessing in disguise. Clearly he wasn’t at his best when he was drunk and sad at the same time.
He was much better off drinking when he was happy; those were fun times, according to Kaminari, at least. Izuku never remembered what he did when he was happy-drunk. He didn’t need to, though, because his friends always made sure to retell the events of the night in excruciating detail. It usually included Izuku making one too many personal comments about his classmates or him taking off an article of clothing.
Nope.
He didn’t want to think about that.
Back to the problem at hand.
A. He had heard Kacchan’s voice; he was choosing to chalk it up to a drunken fever-dream. It was still concerning despite that.
B. He was ninety nine percent sure he was about to throw up, and the nearest trash can was all the way in the kitchen.
Izuku made a beeline for the bathroom as soon as he felt bile creep up into his throat. He crouched over the rim of the toilet, heaving up nothing but stomach acid.
“Kacchan, give it back.”
”Stop waiting for me, idiot.”
”All might would be so disappointed.”
”Give it back.”
”Stop waiting for me.”
”Stop waiting.”
Izuku watched as thick, salty tears started to mix with the bile he’d just thrown up.
Everything was just so, utterly confusing.
Why was he hearing Kacchan’s voice? Hadn’t he gotten over that? It had been eight years, why was this only coming up now? Why was he even hearing voices in the first place? Would they ever stop? Why was this villain after him, and would he be okay? Was he in real danger right then? Should he be worried? Why was everything going wrong?
Izuku thought he was done with villains being after him. He thought he was done hiding. There was no one watching his every move now; All For One and Tenko were dead. There was no one to haunt him anymore.
Oh, god, he was so, so wrong.
Notes:
Chapter title is from my angel by Adrianne Lenker.
can you tell I’m just ITCHING to write erasermic? also poor Izuku. it’s hard not knowing what’s happening to you. also little does shouta know oh my god dude he’s gonna feel so stupid.
not sure why this registered as uploaded on 6/10/25 (day month year) but it was, in fact, uploaded on the eighth, not the sixth.
Chapter 8: I’ll Forgive My Thoughts Now
Summary:
Izuku experiences (and semi-recovers from) a panic attack with the help of two of his—unexpectedly present—friends.
Notes:
TW for depictions of a panic attack, mentions of bile/stomach acid, depictions of accidental self harm and mentions of choking and drowning.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Izuku hadn’t heard the incessant knocking on his front door over the cacophony of voices plaguing his mind and his tears, and he certainly hadn’t heard the door actually opening.
“You wouldn’t even cut it as a Rent-A-Cop!”
He was taking more air into his lungs than he thought any average person could, but, at the same time, not nearly enough. His heart felt like it might beat directly out of his chest like one of those creatures from Alien.
He’d heard Kacchan’s voice. Why? And, even better, there was a villain after him, again. He knew where Izuku worked.
Or, more accurately, where he worked half the time, but still.
How did he get that information? Why was everything going to shit now, eight years after what Izuku had thought was his big finish? He’d fulfilled his goal, so why was the universe still throwing obstacles at him? Izuku felt like he was drowning in the constant buzz of conversation and choking on his own spit.
Something is wrong, something is wrong something is wrong I’m hurt I taste blood what is happening please I want to go home I want to go home I want to go ho—
“Deku!”
In the midst of his panic, he hadn’t registered the new, very real voices in his apartment, almost taking the desperate shout of his hero name to be the voice he was trying so desperately to avoid.
Footsteps cracked against his hardwood floor as the intruders rushed towards the sounds of Izuku freaking out.
”Crap, Uraraka, I think he’s having a panic attack… Ice! Get ice!”
It was like he was underwater, grasping at nothing, gulping down saltwater every time he tried to suck in a breath.
“Stop waiting for me, idiot.”
Everything felt incredibly loud, but muffled at the same time. The conversations that had merely been a nuisance (that was saying far too little; the voices had been a very real issue, but Izuku was far too worried about burdening others with his problems to admit it) before were consuming the majority of his hearing, like they sensed his panic, and were responding to it.
“Idiot.”
Izuku hadn’t realized he had been digging his fingers into his scalp until he felt a familiar hand pull his arms down towards the porcelain rim of the toilet.
“Midoriya, you’re alright, just try to breathe for me, okay? In and out, bro.”
Izuku gasped for air. He swore that his airway was collapsing in on itself from how little oxygen he was getting with each strained breath.
“All Might would be so disappointed.”
There was so much noise his ears had begun ringing. If he weren’t so full of panic he was quite literally choking on it, he might have questioned that response to the fictional voices. He wasn’t really hearing them, so why was his body processing it as such?
“I’ve got the ice.”
”Okay, yeah, that’s good, that’s good! Put it uhh… on the back of his neck? I can't really move my hands right now— Crap, he’s bleeding! God, Midoriya!”
There was quite a bit of yelling somewhere in the background, and he wasn’t quite sure if that was real or in his head at that point. There were the normal conversations he’d been hearing, and this terrible, terrible gurgling noise from somewhere in the bathroom he couldn’t quite pinpoint. All he knew for sure was that there was someone beside him begging him to breathe, statements of which he was too unfocused to fully process, and there was something cold and wet touching the back of his neck.
And, in the midst of all this commotion, he hadn’t realized the horrible choking slash gurgling noise he’d been hearing was himself.
“Midoriya, dude, calm down!”
Izuku’s mind snapped back to the present moment, and suddenly, he could breathe again. He coughed and sputtered, and suddenly, he was acutely aware of the painfully cold compress on the back of his neck, and the pressure on his hands. He was aware of the rank smell of bile that coated the expanse of his bathroom, the frantic voices of his friends, and the ever dulling sound of his fantastical entourage (thank god.) Wait, Why were his friends there?
“There we go, bro! In and out, just like that, but maybe a bit slower, if you can? You know what? Nevermind. Not the point. You’re doing great.”
A gentler voice cut in before the male voice could dig himself a hole any deeper. “Can you name five things you can see, Deku? As soon as you feel like you can talk, of course.”
Uraraka.
He tried to focus his eyes on the contents of his abysmally decorated bathroom.
Sink. Mirror. Uraraka. Toilet. Was that Kirishima?
So that’s what— or, more appropriately, who—was holding his hands down. Why was he doing that? Why were Izuku’s fingers red?
Izuku swallowed, wincing at the sudden dryness of his mouth. ”The sink, the mirror, you, the toilet, and Kirishima.” He cringed at how hoarse his voice was.
Something warm dripped down his forehead, causing his breath to hitch. Had he done that? And what exactly was that? He glanced up at the red-haired boy that was hovering to his right and furrowed his brow, mouth still gaping as he tried to refill his lungs. He swallowed again. God, my throat hurts.
“Four things you can touch?”
Izuku noted the newfound ache in his knees from being crouched on the bathroom floor for so long (despite the elapsed time only being around ten minutes).
”Toilet seat, the floor… Kirishima’s hands, and the fabric of my pants?” He glanced at Uraraka through the corner of his eye expectingly. Did the fabric of his pants even count?
Uraraka nodded and smiled. “Yeah, that works. How about three things you can hear?”
Izuku groaned, letting his head fall dangerously close to water in the toilet bowl.
“Null.”
She made a small humming noise and nodded her head hesitantly. “Okay then… two things you can smell?”
”Bile, and… is that blood?”
”Ummm…Yeah. You scraped your scalp with your fingernails earlier. But don’t worry about that, though! Everything is okay and under control. Can you tell me one thing you can taste?”
Izuku swallowed again, trying to ignore the fact that he’d hurt himself in the midst of his panic attack. He would most definitely be making that call to Hound Dog later. “Bile, again.”
”Okay, awesome. Good, good.” Uraraka took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth. “Do you want me to take away the ice?”
Izuku didn’t really register her final question.“What… What are you guys doing here?” Uraraka deflated a little bit.
Kirishima smiled sheepishly, subtly letting his hands fall off of the green haired boy’s. “Okay, don’t panic Midoriya. We didn’t break in, I swear…well, we kind of did, but that’s not the point. You weren’t responding to your texts, and Uraraka got worried something might’ve happened to you, so she insisted that she come over. I was in the area and offered to come with.” He paused to let the words process in Izuku’s head. He glanced between the two of them and then continued talking. “It seems like you guys know something I don’t, but I won’t pry.”
Uraraka nodded, and Izuku noted that she was sitting off to his left, still holding the ice pack to his neck. The condensation dripped farther down the back of his shirt with every passing moment. “Uraraka used her emergency key—“ He swallowed yet again (He could really go for some water right then)”—didn’t she?” Kirishima nodded. “That doesn’t count as breaking in.” The teacher tried to crack a smile, but it fell flat on the tension in the room.
”Yeah, I guess so, now that I think about it…” He grinned nervously, his eyes creasing with the movement. “Do you need anything? Water? A hug, maybe?”
Izuku didn’t think he wanted a hug. Despite as much as he could have wanted one, though, it would probably just make him cry again. He hadn’t even realized that he’d stopped until right then. Water, on the other hand, was a godsend.
“Water, if that’s okay.”
Kirishima nodded, and Uraraka made a small ‘hmph’ noise in acknowledgement. She picked herself up off the floor and removed the ice pack from his neck. “I’ll be right back, Deku.” Izuku nodded, and moved a shaky hand to click the handle on the toilet downwards. He twisted himself so his back was to the toilet as it flushed.
Everything felt so surreal. Like he was in a dream. Not a very good one, albeit, but a hazy sort of trance. Nothing felt real about this whole thing, and that scared him. It’ll wear off once the adrenaline fades.
“So… you wanna talk about it?” Kirishima had his back to the sink’s cupboard system, his red hair squishing up against the corner of the wood. Uraraka arrived back with a glass of water and a piece of bread. Izuku didn’t even know he had bread in his pantry.
”Here. I went through your pantry, sorry about that. I found some bread, though, so that’s a plus!” She sat down beside Kirishima so that the three of them were forming a misshapen triangle on the floor. She looked almost uneasy, but Izuku chose to disregard it for now. He’d mention it later, because he thought he might have an idea of what might be making her look so queasy.
Izuku muttered a grateful ’thank you’ and chugged down the water, relishing in the cool coat it momentarily left on his throat before the itching-burning sensation returned. He took those few moments to debate what he was going to say next.
He couldn’t just… tell Kirishima about everything that was happening. He didn’t deserve to have to shoulder that burden for him.
Izuku already felt horrible enough as it was about telling Uraraka, so what was different about telling Kirishima? And as well as that, neither of them knew about the whole dead-best-friend’s-voice—he didn’t even want to think his name, because just the memory of his encounter the night before made his gut churn—situation yet, so that was out of the question for talking points too.
Crap.
”I don’t really know what to say.” He shot Uraraka a worried glance. She stiffened.
”Oh.”
“Yeah.”
”That’s… problematic.”
“Mhm. Tell me about it.”
Kirishima glanced between the two of them, making an indiscernible face. “Guys, what’s going on?”
”You said you wouldn’t pry!” Izuku’s voice cracked on ‘pry’, but Kirishima pretended not to notice.
”Well, it’s kind of hard not to when the two of you clearly know something substantial about this whole situation that I don’t!” He took a breath, his face melting back and forth between barely restrained frustration and fervent worry. “I’m worried about you, bro. We all know something is wrong, but you just won’t tell us.” Kirishima’s voice started to raise more, and Izuku’s heart dropped into his stomach. “There were so many signs, don’t even get me started, Midoriya. In the car, at the reunion; Don’t think I didn’t notice you looking at that flower Ashido and I put down for Bakugou. It’s just gotten worse and worse from there, and you’re entirely focused on keeping it to yourself—and apparently Uraraka! You haven’t come to a single 1-A hangout since then, and we’ve had… like… three! You’re usually so freaking eager to hang out, and for the past few days, you’ve been completely radio silent!” Kirishima paused to take a deep breath in and out. “I just want to know if you’re okay, and if that entails me knowing this big secret, I think maybe I have a right to at least some context! It’s not manly to suffer alone, dude!”
A moment of silence passed, and Uraraka pursed her lips. Izuku hadn’t even known there had been any mention of a get together after the reunion, let alone three actual meet-ups in the five—no, six—days it’d been since then. He was so not looking forward to checking his unread messages later.
Uraraka looked back at Izuku with a pensive, yet hesitant look in her eyes. “He’s got a point, Deku.”
”I know,” he snapped. His hand shot up to cover his mouth. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to snap at you, Uraraka!”
She gave him a somber smile. “It’s okay. I get it. It’s not exactly information you give out to just anybody, I would expect any normal person to be at least a little apprehensive about this.”
Izuku nodded and leaned his head back onto the toilet lid, his curly hair falling wildly around his ears and neck. He brought his hands up to his face and talked through his fingers. “I guess I just thought I would be able to keep this between us until it got resolved, or at least for more than a few days.” He said the next part much quieter, almost so quiet his friends couldn’t hear him at all. “It doesn’t look like it’s going away anytime soon, though.”
Kirishima sunk into himself a little bit, ashamed for his mild (but warranted) outburst. “Look, you don’t have to tell me everything. But I’d at least like to know if you’re safe, and if there’s anything I or anyone else can do to help. We’re worried about you, Midoriya.”
Izuku sighed and dragged his hands down his face. You know what? Fuck it. What’s the worst that could happen?
“I’ve been hearing voices.”
No one talked for a moment. Kirishima’s eyes were wide open, and Uraraka kept that pensive look on her face, but now, she had a somber sort of glimmer in her eyes.
“…Okay.”
”…Yeah.”
Kirishima shifted his sitting position so that his legs were crossed. “Are they…good voices? Like… Please don’t tell me you’ve got people in your head telling you to do bad things. I would hope that they’re… uh…benelevent. If you catch my drift.”
Izuku made a mildly confused face, and let his hands fall to his lap. He leaned forward as he spoke, rolling his head on the edge of the toilet lid to face Kirishima. “That’s the first thing Uraraka asked, too.“ He paused. “ And the word you’re looking for is benevolent.”
Kirishima smiled sheepishly. “Ah.”
Uraraka cut in. ”Hey, it’s a pretty valid concern when your friend is telling you he’s hearing voices!” She made a faux pouty face, and Izuku chuckled lightly.
”Yeah, I suppose it is. Sorry.”
The silence stretched on for no more than a minute, and Izuku couldn’t really bring himself to fill it.
“Why are you sorry? It’s not like you can control it.” Uraraka spoke first, leaning forward with her chin on her hand.
”Yeah, bro! There’s no need to apologize for something you can’t help!” Kirishima grinned. “We’ll always be here if you need us, Midoriya. Don’t forget that.”
Izuku nodded and smiled, shakily, albeit. “Yeah. Thank you.”
Silence again. They were just going in a loop at this point, and Izuku was starting to feel ill again just because of the sheer intensity of the awkwardness between him and his friends. He’d caused that, though, hadn’t he? With his stupid panic attack, with his stupid voices and his stupid, stupid complex (for lack of a better term) about his dead best friend. He glanced down at the abandoned piece of bread (which he’d accidentally placed on the bathroom floor; it probably wasn’t a great idea to eat that now) and back up again when he heard Kirishima begin to speak.
”Do you… wanna play UNO or something? Just to take your mind off of… well…” He trailed off, seemingly avoiding mentioning Izuku’s predicament in hopes of not triggering another panic attack, or maybe because it left a bad taste in his mouth. Who knows? “If you have it, that is.”
Uraraka nodded quickly and repeatedly. “Yeah! That’s an awesome idea, Kirishima!”
Izuku chuckled quietly. “I think I have a spare deck lying around here somewhere. We might have to play Go Fish instead if I can’t find it.”
”Oh, you’re so on, Midoriya!”
”I’m gonna kick your butt, Deku!”
The three of them got up (Izuku on the slower side, albeit) and started to make their way towards the living area. He lingered behind in the bathroom for a moment while Kirishima and Uraraka taunted each other just a few feet outside the bathroom door and took a deep breath.
Maybe UNO wasn’t a terrible idea. Just to take his mind off of things for a while (as much as he could, anyway), and hanging out with his friends again didn’t sound all that bad.
…
(it was a better option than getting more sake, at the very least.)
Notes:
Chapter title is from State Lines by Novo Amor.
can you tell that i’m saving the good chapter titles for the really juicy ones? i’m scraping the bottom of the lyric title barrel atp.
i apologize for any inaccuracies in reactions or comforting mechanisms displayed by the characters depicted in this chapter; I tried to base Izuku’s panic attack off of my own experiences, so if his panic is un-relatable, I apologize. the ice is also something that tends to help me; I’m happy to discuss that kind of thing with anyone who wants to know. advice givin’ is something I thrive at yo
And, to re-state the obvious: no one is perfect. everyone makes mistakes in high stress situations, which means sometimes, you’ll say the wrong thing or react irrationally. Watching your friend choke on his own spit is pretty high stress, methinks.
final thing: this is a mildly filler-esque chapter… got a few more of these to go before the good stuff. I hope you’re enjoying this so far!! comments and kudos are ALWAYS appreciated and adored. I giggle and kick my feet even when my hits are the only things going up so anything beyond that is more than squeal worthy.
Chapter 9: Something Bad is ‘Bout to Happen to Me
Summary:
A game of UNO gone wrong.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Plus four!”
Izuku watched in horror as Kirishima slammed a plus-four card (directed at him, as unfortunate as it was) down on the carpet, and, in the process, dropped the rest of his hand. His cards scattered around and behind him, some face up, some face down, and the pile of placed cards that had been so meticulously kept tidy by Uraraka exploded with the sheer force of Kirishima’s plus four card.
“Oh, crap! Look away!” The red-haired boy crawled around on the floor in search of his cards.
(Izuku wasn’t quite sure which cards were actually his at that point, with the whole deck having exploded like a feather-filled pillow all over the living room.)
Uraraka screeched, clutched her stomach and leaned forward with tears in her eyes. And, she, in the process of the aforementioned, dropped all of her cards too. She rolled onto her side and kept cackling, and Izuku brought his free hand up to his mouth, laughing into his fingers. Kirishima let out a winded ‘oof’ as he fell onto his belly attempting to reach a card that had flown under the couch, giggling as well.
Izuku didn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun. Maybe his memory was just bad, or maybe the past week had just been the thing at the forefront of his mind? He hoped that was the case.
Even if it was, that thought made him feel a little sad. Things had been worse than he’d thought, hadn’t they. No matter. He was happy now. He should focus on that instead of getting himself in another tizzy. (Did people even say ‘tizzy’ anymore? He wasn’t sure why that was the first thing that came to mind.)
Uraraka, still laughing (but not as hard anymore), was crawling around in an attempt to help Kirishima collect his cards and what was left of the discard pile. She’d floated the couch up just enough to where Kirishima could reach any cards that had escaped the open living room territory, and her red-haired companion was doing just that. More cards than Izuku thought had ended up under there, and it was incredibly funny to watch Kirishima’s expression brighten with every new card he came across.
“Here, let me—“ Izuku wiped a tear from his eyes (it was there due to him laughing so hard, believe it or not) “—help you, too.” He made his way over, walking on his knees, to help the two of them gather the deck. He picked up quite a few cards just on the few strides it took to get over to the couch, stashing them in his shorts pocket.
“We’re gonna have to start a new round now, aren’t we?” Kirishima muttered sheepishly, laying faux-dejectedly on his belly with a pile of cards in his hands. “Sorry, guys! I just got so excited: Midoriya was about to win! I had a plus four! It was just so perfect!” He rolled his face into the floor.
Izuku smiled and got on his hands to help Uraraka with the last scattering of cards off to the side from the floating couch. “It’s okay, Kirishima. I don’t mind! I’m sure Uraraka doesn’t mind either.” He shot a teasing glance her way; she had achieved the honor of having a little over half of the deck in her hands by the time of the plus-four incident, so starting a new game would most likely work in her favor.
“Oh, shush, you…!” She raised up on her knees and faced Izuku, making a choking motion with her hands a few feet away from his face and scrunching her expression into a theatrically angry one. She let out a little roar (it sounded more like ‘AAAGHH!!’, but roar felt like an appropriate adjective, Izuku thought), eliciting a small laugh from Kirishima, who’d since sat up on his knees outside of the range of the couch.
“I think that’s all of it. You can put the couch down now, Uraraka.” Kirishima shot a double thumbs up her way. “Thanks for that, by the way!”
“Mhm!” She muttered a small ‘release’ (Izuku used to wonder if that was a requirement for her quirk to deactivate, but she’d stated that it was just a habit she had that stuck. “Kind of like a catchphrase!” She’d said that day, clenching her fingers together in two fists and pulling them downwards) and the couch slowly lowered itself to the ground.
“Alright, are you all set to go for another round, Midoriya?” Kirishima scooted himself over to the center of the living area and handed Uraraka his cards to shuffle into a new deck.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Izuku followed close behind, and sat himself in a position where Uraraka was to his diagonal left, and Kirishima was to his diagonal right, in the same triangle they’d formed in his bathroom a little over an hour before.
He felt better than he did then, he could admit that much. But the voices hadn’t fully quieted since then— he was grateful that they weren’t screaming at him, sure, but they were less muffled than before. He bet that, if he focused hard enough, he could maybe, just maybe, make out a word or two. It was like they (they? he really was going crazy, wasn’t he?) were behind a thin wall, and if he just sort of mentally maneuvered himself so that his ear hovered above the plasterboard, he could listen in. Possibly.
It was just a theory, though, and not a very well thought out one—in his opinion, anyway. He’d had better ideas. Izuku had conjured it up in the middle of their second game when he’d fully calmed his shot nerves and the voices didn't go back to normal like he’d expected them to. (Or, more appropriately, hoped— things weren’t exactly going his way lately, so he should have expected this outcome. It was just his luck.)
“Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey. Earth to Midoriya.” Kirishima had begun poking Izuku’s shoulder insistently— the greenette wasn’t sure how long he’d been doing that—in the midst of his racing thoughts. He punctuated every poke with a ‘hey’.
“Ah! Sorry! Was I mumbling? I hope I wasn’t mumbling…” He curled in on himself a little bit.
“Nope, you’re good! Don’t sweat it, bro. Let’s just play the game.”
Uraraka handed out seven cards to each player, ending with herself. “Alright Kirishima, you go first, since you’re to the left of me.” She flipped up the first card to reveal a yellow zero at the bottom of the pile.
Kirishima placed down a yellow reverse, Uraraka followed that with a green reverse, Kirishima played a green two, Izuku placed a blue two, and so on.
As the game continued, Izuku couldn’t help but think that, despite how much fun he was supposedly having, like he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everything had gone so awry those past few days, so he felt like it wasn’t that atrocious for him to think that something might go wrong during the one genuinely good day (for the most part) he’d had in a long time.
No. Stop that. Focus on the game.
He tried to focus on his hand. His cards were okay; Izuku thought so, at least. At this point in the game (after a few go arounds and a few turns drawing cards), he had five cards: A blue seven, a red skip, a yellow three and five, and a green six. When his next turn came, Uraraka was nearing two cards, (how she’d done, that Izuku had absolutely no idea; luck of the draw?) and Kirishima looked to Izuku to do something about it. His face was cinched in despair.
”Play your six, she doesn’t have any green!”
Izuku swung around to chide Kirishima for his blatant cheating. “Stop cheating, Kirishima! That’s not how you play the game!” It was so unlike him to look at other people’s cards, what could have possibly prompted that? Maybe Kirishima was more serious about UNO than Izuku had previously thought…
The boy stared at him with a puzzled look on his face, raising his hands up (a few cards in each) as he spoke. “What do you mean? I wasn’t doing anything!”
“Don’t play dumb with me! I know you were looking at our cards!” Izuku grinned as he reprimanded his friend playfully.
But, to his surprise, Kirishima looked genuinely confused.
“Dude. Cut it out.”
Izuku furrowed his brow and reeled it in a bit. “Wait, what? But you just… You just said that Uraraka didn’t have any green cards?” He twisted around to look over his shoulder and back.
“Hey, how did you know that?!” Uraraka play-shouted, whinging about how her amazing plan was absolutely ruined. “I thought I was doing such a good job of hiding my cards too!” She placed her cards down beside her crossed legs and leaned forward, placing her chin on one of her hands. Kirishima looked pensive for a moment, then somber.
The reality of the situation hit Izuku like a semi-truck. There was the shoe.
”Oh… Oh my god. Oh my god!” His face morphed through at least four of the five stages of grief in a split second. “I just hallucinated that, didn’t I?”
Uraraka’s expression dulled as she realized the true gravity of what had just happened. Kirishima gave a sad nod, and Uraraka sat up.
“I think so, man.”
How had he not realized? Now that he really thought about it, the voice was more child-like than anything, and sounded nothing like Kirishima. It was comparable to Katsuma at best. And he’d just started to notice the familiar icy-pool that made its home low, low in his abdomen.
Everyone went quiet for a moment— everyone except his headmates, but that was to be expected.
“…I’ve never been able to decipher a full sentence before now.”
A pause.
”Oh.” Kirishima put his hands in his lap.
Izuku swore he heard a hushed sort of whispering coming from directly behind him. He swung his head to look in the direction of the noise. He stared back at the whistling, breathy words that were coming from thin air (or a few feet away from his hallway; he wasn’t quite sure anymore. Maybe both?) for a few strained moments, and when he couldn’t bring his mind to comprehend the muttered nothings, he turned back to his very confused friends.
He looked one more time, just to be sure he wasn’t hearing things (hah!), then turned his head back again.
He smiled limply, trying to diffuse the tension, but failing miserably. “Sorry. I ruined it, didn’t I?”
Uraraka raised her hands up and shook them as she spoke. “No, no no! You’re good, Deku!” She placed her hands back on her legs. “Just… caught us off guard. Right, Kirishima?” The moment of silence before he answered did not help their case.
“Yeah, no worries, Midoriya.”
Yeah. He’d ruined it.
Izuku deflated, and placed his cards on the carpet as well. He started to speak again, maybe to apologize again, or maybe to pour out his heart and soul to them, but a resounding ding! from someone’s device stopped him in his tracks. Kirishima pulled out his phone, muttering a genuine apology as he checked his notifications. He gasped, and made a small ‘agghh!’ noise.
”Crap! I’m so sorry Midoriya, this is absolute shit timing, but I kind of had a commitment with my moms that I kind of sort of forgot about and kind of sort of need to get to? Like… really bad. Like, I promised-them-I’d-be-there-ten-minutes-ago-bad.”
Izuku was almost grateful for the change in plans, but was still sad to see his friend go. Whatever. They probably wouldn't have been able to get back into their rhythm anyway after that whole debacle.
He smiled and started to get up. ”It’s okay! Just put your cards on the carpet, I’ll take care of them.” Kirishima placed his cards as neatly as he could beside the discard pile and got up as well. Izuku thought up an excuse so that Kirishima didn’t feel too bad. “It’s almost lunchtime anyway, and I don’t know if I have enough food to accommodate you guys.”
Uraraka let a little ‘oh’ escape her lips. ”I can stay a little while longer if you want, Deku.” Izuku nodded at Uraraka as Kirishima rushed to get his shoes on and fumbled around in his pockets for his keys. “I’m genuinely so sorry, Midoriya, I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”
“It’s okay, Kirishima, go, go go! We can catch up later. Have fun!“
Kirishima made a strained grimace-of-a-face just as he was getting ready to open the door. “I have to help them move furniture; only one of them has got a strength quirk, and it’s more like mine than an actual heavy-lifting one. I just happen to always be the first one they call for help.”
Uraraka winced at that. “Ouch. Stay safe, then!”
Kirishima gave a wave, shot an apologetic look at Izuku, and was out the door.
Everything felt consumingly quiet for a moment, and the two of them were just sort of standing in the middle of the room now, not saying anything, not making any moves, barely breathing.
Uraraka broke the silence first. “How’s your head?”
Izuku brought a hesitant finger up to poke at the gauze they’d placed on his scalp. The wounds were superficial; he’d just scraped off the surface of his scalp dragging his fingernails down his head. He shuddered internally at the memory. “Feels okay, apart from some stinging. The gauze is a bit weird though.”
”Yeaahhh… sorry about that. Your hair doesn’t really part right there, so we had to get creative with it.”
Izuku bent down to collect all the cards around their little triangle; Kirishima’s, Uraraka’s, and his own, plus the discard pile and the pick-up pile. As he crouched to nab the final few cards, Uraraka spoke up again.
”Uhm… so… I have a bit of an invasive question.”
Izuku’s stomach dropped.
“Here. I went through your pantry, sorry about that. I found some bread, though, so that’s a plus!”
“Okay.” He made sure to face away from her while he was re-packaging the cards; he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to see his reaction.
”I noticed, when I was getting your water and bread, that you’ve put all your knives up on top of the pantry?”
Izuku slipped his UNO deck into his bedside table.
”And I’m not confident that’s a very good thing. You know you can talk to me, right? I’ll always be here to listen, no matter what it i—“
“Can you just… please…forget about that?”
Uraraka shut her mouth quickly. Izuku turned to face her. “I’m okay. Just… Please ignore that. You guys have worried enough about me today. And I’m sorry for not responding to your texts, I haven’t slept for more than an hour at a time for the past three nights, and I’ve just been exhausted.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I’m really sorry.” He would have been crying by now if he were still in high school. Hell, he felt like crying, but nothing came out of his eyes. Maybe his tear ducts had finally shriveled up.
”I get it. I have those nights, too.” She walked up to Izuku and took one of his hands, just like they’d done in the café. “Just… Can you try to give a proof of life every once in a while? Even if it’s just a simple emoji or something. I just need to know that you’re alive.”
Izuku nodded. “I’ll try harder to keep in contact. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
Uraraka nodded sadly. “It’s okay. I know how hard things are for you right now, so I completely understand.” She let go of his hand and moved to grab her shoes and purse. Pausing at the door, she looked back at the teacher standing in the middle of the living area. “Are you okay to be alone?”
”I’ll be alright. I swear on my life.”
She hesitated still, despite his assurance. ”Call me if anything feels off, okay?”
He nodded. ”Take care, Uraraka.”
She smiled at him and slipped out the door into the hall. As soon as the door clicked closed, Izuku felt more alone than he’d felt that entire week. He lugged his heavy legs over to his couch and sat down, sighing heavily to himself. His gaze drifted over to the hallway, where he’d heard the whispering.
What the hell was he gonna do?
Notes:
Chapter title is from Dark Red by Steve Lacy.
not quite sure how I feel about this chapter... and imagining kirishima just sort of falling flat onto his belly made me giggle way too hard
also!! i’m beginning to pre-write my next fic (testing to see how I do; I’m writing the chapters for this fic as I go, so I have little to no experience with it), so that’s some exciting news!!
ALSO!! We’re at 50 kudos, OVER 22k words, and almost 700 hits!! that’s so awesome, thank you guys so much!! i’m so glad you guys have enjoyed this thus far, and we’ve got a lot left still, thank goodness. Thank you tagging along for the ride.
Chapter 10: They Don’t Wanna Name You
Summary:
Uraraka tells a trusted adult, and Izuku is faced with some harsh truths.
Notes:
TW for frequent mention of knives, allusion to self harm and a generally tough conversation. would not mention the latter if not for the aforementioned, but I feel it can’t hurt to.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ochako couldn’t stop thinking about her visit with Izuku.
As she walked down the sidewalk towards the bus stop, swinging her house keys in her hand, a million thoughts were swimming around in her mind.
Why had Deku been so freaked out? She hadn’t even thought to ask, which was probably a good thing given the whole situation—she wouldn’t have wanted to risk triggering another panic attack—but she still couldn’t help but wonder what the reason might’ve been.
And the knives. God, the knives. Something was really, very seriously wrong, and it filled Ochako with a frustration so strong she felt nauseous. Why wouldn’t he just ask for help? Had she done something wrong?
She sighed, putting her keys into her pocket alongside her phone. There had to have been a reason he hid them, the knives, she meant, and Ochako wasn’t too confident that reason was something he could handle on his own. Of course, he wouldn’t tell her, or anyone else, for that matter. He was too worried he would burden them with his problems. That was just how Deku was coded, she had realized over the years. But…she needed to help somehow. Lest he do something unreverseable. If he did, she would never be able to forgive herself, and Ochako doubted that Kirishima or anyone else in her class, would be able to either.
They were right there. Ochako should have let Kirishima know, or maybe she could've taken the knives with her? Could she have managed to hide them somewhere else? Maybe he had a good reason for putting them where he did? The fact that he’d told her to forget about it did not help his case as well.
She stood under the bus stop’s roof and waited ten or so minutes for her bus to arrive. It was a full route around Musutafu, so one of the few buses making the trek arrived every fifteen minutes.
Should she really be thinking about intervening?
Ochako bit her lip as she thought, rocking on her heels a few times before steadying.
She could tell someone. Deku probably wouldn’t trust her with anything ever again, though. Maybe she didn’t need to speak up about the voices part…just the knives. Even thinking the word made her shudder. She didn’t want to talk about the fact that he was thinking about hurting himself, but if he wouldn’t get help himself, she would have to get it for him.
Steeled in her decision, as her bus arrived and she pulled out her phone to pay for the fare, she shot a text to someone she knew could handle the situation accordingly.
Ochako: deku isn’t doing too well, i don’t think, and we need your help to fix it.
—
Izuku had been having a prolonged staring contest with the wall for at least twenty minutes now, with the goal of maybe interacting with the UNO voice—which was a stupid idea in itself, but what else could he do? Apparently just willing it into existence wasn’t the way to go about it, he was very quickly finding, so how else could do it? Maybe talking back to them?
”That advice you gave me earlier wasn’t bad, if that’s what you’re worried about.” What was he even doing? It was all in his head, anyway, so why was he expecting a made up voice to respond to him? “You just scared me a bit, that’s all.”
He let his words stew in the air for a few moments, trying to focus on the constant buzz of conversation like he’d done a few days earlier. It was no use, of course—that was just his luck these days. He couldn’t decipher jack squat, not even a broken sentence like before. It was like the words were being said, but he was unable to process their meaning, especially given the overlap.
Normally, Midoriya Izuku wasn’t one to give up so easily, but he was exhausted and sweaty and just…done. He was done trying with this. He would attempt it again when he was feeling up to it. For now, though, he just wanted to lay on his stupid, ratty, grey couch and soak in his angst for a little while. It probably wasn’t good for him, but he really didn’t feel like doing anything else.
He sunk into the horrid grey cushions of his secondhand couch and sighed heavily. It was more of a futon, if he was being honest, but who’s counting?
A knock on the door disrupted his settlement, and Izuku wasn’t one to be rude and leave them hanging outside his apartment. He un-stuck himself from the springy couch and got up to answer his second (Technically third, but he was choosing to count Uraraka and Kirishima as one unit) unexpected visitor of the day. He put his hand on the doorknob and pushed it down, pulling the door open in the same motion.
“Problem child.”
Izuku froze in place, suddenly very aware of his state of dress—it wasn’t like he was naked, but the shirt he was wearing hadn’t been washed in a hot minute, and his shorts were kind of worn from frequent use, since they had an All Might pattern on them, and everyone knew how much he idolized the guy.
“Mr. Aizawa, hi.” Izuku blinked a few times, trying to think of a valid reason his teacher would be here, at his apartment, at eleven-something on whim.
Aizawa glanced up at Izuku’s odd hairdo (due to the bandages) and back down. “Gonna keep your teacher standing outside your apartment, or are you gonna let me in?” His teacher was dressed in his hero costume, which was…mildly concerning to Izuku, to say the least. Had he come here from patrol? God, did Izuku have patrol today and didn’t realize? That would’ve been bad.
“Oh, sorry! Come in, come in.”
Aizawa stepped in, and, upon seeing the shoe rack Izuku had by the door, took his shoes off. That stunned Izuku a little bit. “Oh, sir, you don’t need to do that—“
”Stop with the formalities, Problem child. You can just call me Aizawa.” His teacher glared at him, but it held no real malice. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was…concerned?
Izuku deflated a bit. ”Yes sir.”
Aizawa rolled his eyes, and, Izuku having realized what he did, muttered an apology. The scruffy man took a few steps toward Izuku, so that they were face to face rather than across the room from each other. Not close enough to be suffocating, but close enough for Izuku to know something was up.
”I assume you’re wondering why I’m here.”
Izuku nodded, his eyebrows knitting together just slightly. ”I don’t have patrol today, do I?”
Aizawa shook his head. “Where are they, Midoriya?”
He froze, his heart picking up speed. What was he—
Oh.
Oh.
Crap, crap crap crap crap crap! How the hell did he know about that?!
Izuku swallowed. “Uh, I don’t follow?”
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Midoriya. Don’t play dumb with me.”
A familiar warm breath against Izuku’s ear instantly made tears (and stars) prick at the edges of his vision.
“Izuku, tell him where the goddamn knives are.”
Izuku would recognize that voice anywhere. He glanced over his shoulder, through his peripheral so as to not alert his teacher that he had heard anything other than him. A flash of red, there and then gone, made his breath hitch.
No, no no no no no.
“Midoriya…”
This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening.
A sudden jolt and a heavy pressure on his shoulders snapped Izuku out of his haze. He hadn’t even realized he’d begun hyperventilating.
“Breathe, Problem child, breathe. I’m here.”
He choked down sobs as his teacher pulled his, now weightless, body against his, holding his arms up as he lowered the two of them to the ground. Izuku cried, and cried, and cried, and Aizawa held the back of his head with the hand that wasn’t holding his back.
“I…I-I’m s..sso sorry!” He wasn’t sure if he was telling his teacher that, or if he was telling Kacchan’s voice. Maybe both.
“It’s okay, it’s alright. I’m just glad someone told me before you could actually do anything…” He trailed off, realizing an error in his statement. “I certainly hope you haven’t.”
Izuku shook his head fervently in his teacher's embrace. “No, no, no,no, I have…haven’t, I-I swear!” He let out a sob on the tail end of the word ‘swear’, but Aizawa pretended not to notice the way the word came out.
”Good. I’m glad.”
Izuku cried for a while longer, which he had become increasingly aware of by the time he’d semi-calmed. Mildly embarrassing, but he would live.
He slowly pulled himself, puffy eyed and snot-ridden, away from Aizawa’s hug as soon as he could control his sobbing. He wiped one of his hands under his nose, which was mildly gross, but he didn’t really care.
”Do you wanna talk about it, or do you just want me to do what I came here to do?”
Izuku sniffled, looking off to the side (as if looking for his friend). “There’s nothing to t-talk about. I thought about doing something b-bad, that’s the end of it.” He paused. “What did you come h-here to do?”
—
Uraraka: deku isn’t doing too well, i don’t think, and we need your help to fix it.
Shouta had immediately picked up his phone—he always did when it was one of his students, albeit he usually left a minute or two in between responses so they didn’t find out about his true adoration for them—when he saw Uraraka’s name pop up on his notification screen.
Shouta: Care to elaborate?
[…]
Even at work, his (former and current) students took priority. Sure, he should be doing more research on whatever group this guy was a part of, but with the subject of Uraraka’s message, that could wait. Both tasks had the goal of helping Midoriya, therefore he had free reign to choose either.
Uraraka: so…to sum it up, deku hadn’t been answering his texts, and given a
conversation him and I had the other day, that was due justification
for concern
Shouta: Valid.
Shouta couldn’t deny he was curious about the conversation in question, but he decided not to pry. They were twenty five, they were allowed to have secrets. (He only said that because, if they were younger, he wouldn’t have hesitated to dig deeper.)
Uraraka: kirishima and i went over to his place to do a proof-of-life check today, and
we found him having a panic attack in the bathroom. concerning in itself,
right? well, when he calmed down, i went to go get him some water and a
snack, just in case he wanted one
Shouta was getting more concerned by the minute. Sure, he’d noticed that the boy was more jittery, for lack of a better term, than usual the other day, but that was almost a week ago. Surely he would have told someone if something was seriously wrong?
He immediately took that thought back as soon as it reared its head. He absolutely wouldn’t have told anyone, not in a million years. He was stubborn and convinced that he had to deal with everything on his own.
Shouta: Right. Go on.
Uraraka: sensei, I found a stash of hidden knives. I think maybe he was thinking
about hurting himself.
Shouta was instantly up and out of his seat, careful enough to not let all his papers fly around, but quick enough to catch a few people’s attention.
”Aizawa? Where are you off to so quickly?”
Shouta grunted as he made his way towards the back door. “Emergency. Be back soon.”
Tsukauchi’s face softened with understanding. “Call if you need me.”
Shouta nodded, and, as soon as he stepped a foot out of the station, He made a mad dash towards Midoriya’s apartment. With this particular Problem child’s history, he couldn’t get there soon enough. He shot Uraraka a quick text before making his way into the bustling sidewalks of Musutafu.
Shouta: I’m on my way.
—
Aizawa placed his hands on Izuku’s shoulders. “There is plenty to talk about, Midoriya. There has to have been a reason for those thoughts to appear in the first place, even if you don’t know what that reason was or is yet. I just need to know if you do.”
Izuku’s gaze softened as he looked back at Aizawa. “I don’t think I want to tell you, but I know why.”
His teacher nodded slowly. “That’s okay. I won’t pry. But I will ask again,” He tightened his grip on Izuku’s shoulders, not angrily, but more so in an attempt to ground him, “Where did you hide them?”
Izuku debated telling him for a moment; he would maybe need those knives for cooking dinner, or opening boxes, or…
”I put them on top of the pantry.” He deflated a little bit as he said that, and Aizawa sighed and nodded.
“Thank you for telling me. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?”
Izuku thought for a moment. He didn’t have anything he needed from Aizawa—he hadn’t even known that he was coming to begin with—but he did have a few questions.
“Who told you?”
Aizawa sighed. “Will you distance yourself from them if I tell you?”
Izuku shook his head slowly, shrinking in on himself. “I would have done the same thing they did, honestly.”
His teacher nodded. “Good, because she was very worried about you. I’m grateful Uraraka reached out, because I know you wouldn’t have until it was too late. Which, I should lecture you about, but I won’t. Not today.” Aizawa got up and held his hand out to assist Izuku, of which he gratefully took. Izuku sat down in his seat at the dining table, and Aizawa walked over to the pantry to retrieve the knives. “You do know why I’m taking these, don’t you?”
Izuku nodded sadly.
“Good.” He carefully took all the sharps out from the top of the pantry and placed them on the counter. “Do you have any bags I can put these in? I didn’t think to grab anything before I came out here.”
Izuku pointed towards the hall closet located to the left of his living area slash sleeping area. “I probably have some paper bags in there, behind the vacuum maybe?”
Aizawa nodded and made his way over, leaving Izuku to ruminate in his thoughts for a minute.
He’d heard Kacchan’s voice. Again. And he’d panicked, again. Though he supposed he had the right to panic, because the whole situation was fucked.
He was starting to doubt his resolve a little bit. Maybe these voices were a little more than he’d initially thought. Something more complicated that he didn’t really have the energy to unpack right then, but he would get to it…eventually.
”Found them.” Aizawa held up a large brown paper bag labeled with the local convenience store’s logo and walked back into the kitchen. He placed each knife gently into the bag, and, when he was done with that, he began to rifle through the kitchen cabinets. Izuku furrowed his brow.
“W-What are you doing now?” Izuku felt his face heat up a little bit. Do I have anything embarrassing in there? He better not’ve gone through my bedroom… Oh, god that would be embarrassing.
“Making sure you don’t have any other sharp objects. Would you prefer to go through your bathroom and bedside tables? I assume you’d like to preserve at least some of your dignity.”
Izuku’s eyebrows unknitted gradually as he spoke. That makes sense. ”Yeah, thank you, Aizawa Sensei.” His teacher scoffed, and Izuku swore he saw a hint of a smirk on his face. The man in question placed a pair of kitchen scissors he’d missed into the bag.
He walked off into the carpeted area of his apartment, which included where his bed and couch were, his bedside tables, the entrance to his balcony and the door into the hallway. He began to rummage through his bedside tables, finding nothing but what he’d expected to find in there, and a few things that made him blush at the prospect of his teacher seeing them by accident. No sharps, though. That was a relief.
He trotted into the hallway and into his bathroom, and shuffled around through various medicine cabinets and cupboards to find a small pair of scissors for cutting bandages, a small pocket knife for opening plastic sealed containers, and a razor that he occasionally used to shave, but no other objects he could possibly hurt himself with. He debated taking the tweezers, but they weren’t sharp enough to do any damage, so he left them.
“Clear?”
Izuku jumped, hitting his head on the roof of the cupboard. He made a pained noise, grasping his head (specifically where his bandages were: they were stinging like hell now) and pulling himself out from underneath the sink.
“That was mean,” Izuku pouted.
“What, you thought I would leave you alone in a place that is most definitely going to have sharp objects while you’re in this state? Not happening, Problem child.”
Izuku paled and blushed simultaneously, like some sort of fucked up cuttlefish. “Please don’t tell me you watched me go through my bedside tables. Or the stuff in here.” He looked around at the cupboard, scanning for anything he needed to hide in the moment. “I don’t even know what I have in here.”
He shook his head. “I lingered in the room, yes, but I didn’t peek into your private business. Keeping an ear out was the least I could do. Besides, your kitchen was clear other than that pair of scissors, so I had nothing else to do as soon as you left. I shouldn’t have sent you alone to begin with, though. That was a fault on my end. I apologize for scaring you.”
Izuku smiled nervously. “It’s okay. You didn’t mean to.”
The two of them stood (and sat) like that for a few moments, before Aizawa sighed and walked out. Izuku followed suit, and they ended up in the middle of the carpeted area.
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not feeling particularly inclined to leave you alone right now, but, as the circumstances have it, I was in the middle of working on a case when I left, and I promised Tsukauchi I would be back.” Izuku opened his mouth to speak. “And do not apologize for making me leave, Midoriya. I left on my own accord, and you should not feel sorry for struggling and needing help.” Izuku closed his mouth.
”I have a few things to ask of you before I leave, though.”
The green haired boy nodded. “Of course.”
He held out his hand. “I need your balcony keys. If you have anything you think you’ll need, you may grab them. I’ll be locking that door.” Izuku deflated and nodded, eyeing the front door hooks for the keys in question.
“I’m going to let Inui know to call you in thirty minutes if you don’t call him first. Unless you are unable to pick up the phone for some unknown reason, you are to answer him. Got it?” Izuku nodded again.
“Send me a message every few hours, unless you’re asleep, and let Uraraka and Kirishima know you’re okay. They’re worried sick about you.”
“I can do that.” After a moment, and a nod from Aizawa, Izuku walked over to the front door, grabbed his balcony keys from their respective hook, and locked the door they went to. When he got back, he handed them to his teacher.
Aizawa took the keys and placed them in his pocket. He put his hand on Izuku’s head gently, but didn’t quite ruffle his hair in fear of messing up his bandages. “Alright then. Stay safe, problem child. I’ll be back if you don’t follow those conditions to the letter.”
”I will. Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Aizawa.” The man in question let his hand fall off the boy’s head, and started off towards the kitchen to grab the bag of sharps. As he made his way towards the front door, bag in hand, he shouted back to Izuku without turning his head.
“To the letter!”
Izuku smiled as best he could. “I swear I will!” His teacher slipped on his shoes and headed out the door, clicking it closed behind him.
Izuku just stood still in the middle of his apartment for a few moments, waiting for the sound of footsteps to fade, and then, he started to cry.
Notes:
Chapter title is from dragon eyes by Adrianne Lenker.
y’all are not ready for this shit. i’m not ready for this shit honestly
also!! we’ve hit… like… more than 800 hits, 16 bookmarks and 60 kudos!! holy crap! holy crap! thank you guys for the support!!
and finally, this chapter is the longest chapter yet (as of 19/10/25) at a whopping 3,470 words!!! crazy crazy crazy. that also means we’ve hit over 25,000 words, almost 26. holy boobies!!
cheers to chapter ten, hitting milestones left and right.
Chapter 11: Either Way, We’re Not Alone
Summary:
Shouta arrives back at the station, Izuku does some soul searching, and…Oh.
Notes:
shorter chapter this time around, apologies! I was struggling on how I wanted to write this for a hot minute. I hope you still enjoy it :3 mild tw for mention of self harm
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Shouta arrived back at the station with a heavy feeling in his chest.
He shouldn't have promised to come back. Leaving Midoriya had been against his better judgement, but, with the unpreferrable circumstances, he had to trust that his problem child would follow through on his promises. Otherwise, Shouta would be barging in again and convincing him to get some actual, professional help, or at least to talk to him. He sensed that Midoriya hadn’t caught onto the fact that Shouta knew something else was up based on how vague he’d been during his visit, so if Shouta did that—barged in—now, he would probably scare him off and never get any information out of the boy again. Hence why he was waiting for probable cause—not that his student thinking of harming himself wasn’t cause enough, it was just an incredibly complicated situation they were in. He had to take it slow, because all the factors in this puzzle-of-a-clusterfuck could very easily fall apart if he wasn’t careful enough.
There was a villain after Midoriya, which Shouta and the rest of the heroes on the case were actively trying to tie a reason to.
Midoriya was going through something, and he was too stubborn and self-sacrificing to actually do anything about it.
Shouta was working day and night to help with the former, and now, it looked like he would be spending the rest of that time helping with the latter.
He sat down at his desk and dropped the paper bag in an empty drawer, sighing to himself. Tsukauchi, noticing Shouta’s reappearance, walked up to his desk with a coffee mug in hand.
“Welcome back. Everything alright?”
Shouta grunted in response, pulling open his laptop to continue his research. “Could be better.”
Tsukauchi gave an empathetic hum. “That’s too bad. Well, I hope you’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do. Especially if it’s got anything to do with this case: I know you’ve been working hard to figure it out, and I hope you know we’re doing the best we can as well.”
Shouta nodded and clicked back into the criminal registry database he’d been looking at earlier, and, Tsukauchi, sensing the conversation was over, walked off to do whatever he’d been doing before.
Scrolling through the various registered quirks of known and apprehended criminals, Shouta wondered if the two predicaments were at all related. It was a valid theory: it was entirely possible that the kid was having some sort of PTSD related breakdown at the prospect of yet another villain being after him in specifics. Or maybe the villain was the direct cause of the problem.
If that was the case, this was far more complicated than he’d thought.
—
After a painstakingly long call with Hound Dog and a proof of life check-in text thread with his teacher, Izuku could admit that he felt at least a teensy bit better.
He also felt incredibly conflicted.
Having to skirt around the fact that the reason why he’d had a panic attack (and had thought about hurting himself the night before) was the fact he was hearing voices—and a specific voice in particular, no less—in his conversation with Hound Dog brought a few different ideas to light, but one in particular made Izuku’s head hurt.
Maybe the voices weren’t hallucinations.
Hypothetically, let's say Izuku was somehow hearing very real voices of very real people, and he’d just been too afraid of what that meant for his future to consider it.
First of all, he’d need to figure out where they were coming from. Initially he’d contemplated his hearing having spontaneously advanced in a moment of insane evolution or something, but the fact that he was hearing consistent voices in different places kind of disproved that. Unless someone (or someones) was stalking him, which would be quite concerning, given everything happening with the villain.
Despite that thought, he was inclined to assume that wasn’t the case, if only to preserve what was left of his sanity.
His next theory was that maybe he was hearing someone that wasn’t there, but was there. If that made any sense at all.
After he’d messaged Uraraka and Kirishima that he was alive and well, and that he was sorry for freaking out (and sent out a separate text to Uraraka letting her know he had a visit from Mr. Aizawa, and that he was okay in that aspect as well), Izuku had started to do some research on theories surrounding the paranormal in this superhuman society.
It wasn’t a long shot that, in the same way that vestiges existed within One For All, they may exist in the real world in the way that people perceive ghosts. He’d read quite a few articles and forums on theories regarding a quote most people learned in grade school science class: “Energy cannot be created, nor destroyed; it can only get transferred from one form into another”, and as he looked on, the theory got more and more plausible, even if the general public didn’t have the foundation of One For All Izuku did to work off of.
People had already been debating the idea of the science behind quirks within a more supernatural sense before the war, and the fact that All For One consistently mentioned quirk factors or vestiges ‘fighting against him’ had only spurred the discussion on further. How the public had gotten that information was beyond Izuku, but that wasn’t the point.
“Fighting against him” implied that the factors had a consciousness. That meant they were alive, in a way. And, referring back to the scientific statement from before, people were theorizing that the energy from a living person could, hypothetically, be transferred into a vestige outside of their body when they die. After that, though, people's arguments started to get fuzzy, and all the different opinions were starting to make Izuku’s head hurt. Everything before then was actually incredibly smart, though. He decided he would apply that logic to his own musings.
His next question was how.
He had an idea, but it wasn’t a very comforting one.
The villain from before, the one that had grabbed his neck. What if he had something to do with it? Izuku felt stupid for not considering that option before—or, more accurately, not debating it further than the guy injecting him with something. There were a variety of things he could have done other than drugging Izuku.
What if the villain had transferred a quirk to him?
As much as Izuku wanted to claim that the effects were temporary, and it was just the effects of a quirk, it was seeming increasingly unlikely given the voices had prevailed over the span of almost a week. With his knowledge of transferring a quirk (regarding One For All, at least), he could probably develop a valid theory on that too.
One For All could be transferred forcibly; Izuku knew that from experience. All Might had initially described it as a girl forcing a box of chocolates onto her unwilling crush, and though the example was unconventional, it worked surprisingly well. So let's say that he’d been given a quirk that allowed him to hear dead people, or, more accurately, the vestiges of the dead. How far did that hearing extend? Could he turn off the quirk, or was it just always there? He doubted it was just hearing, too, given he’d seen a few glimpses of eyes here and there. Who’s eyes he didn’t want to think too hard about. Was it possible for him to see the vestiges too? Could that be turned on and off? Or was it more of a quirk awakening situation, where it would come into play when it needed to? What was the definition of “needed to”? A crisis situation? Could they, the people he was hearing, decide when they wanted to be seen?
Izuku leaned further on his hand, letting his elbow dig into the table as he zoned out on the article pulled up on his laptop screen. He had so many questions. And the worst part was that he was on a fixed timeframe: School was starting back up soon, and, alongside that, he was neglecting his hero work to deal with this. That spurred the thought that he should probably start doing patrols at the same time he started teaching again. Which meant that he needed to figure this out fast, otherwise his life was about to get a whole lot harder than it already was.
He glanced across the apartment at the window overlooking his balcony, and noted the now dark and starry sky outside. Has it really been that long?
Izuku’s eyes felt heavy, sure, but he’d honestly just assumed it was from all the crying he’d done that day. He tore his eyes away from the sunset and looked at the time in the corner of his laptop screen. The little white text read nine o’clock.
Izuku sighed and pushed his reading glasses up further on his face, scrolling through a discussion thread about residual energy in relation to a person’s quirk. There were multiple comment chains of people arguing about whether or not “theories like that should be shared online” and spouting god knows what about religion and the afterlife. It’s not like you were gonna get smited (smitten? Smoten? Izuku wasn’t sure) if you uttered a theory about where you go where you die that isn’t up to par with your average keyboard-warrior’s opinion. Unless that keyboard warrior had a combustion quirk that could work through a screen, but that was highly unlikely to happen.
Izuku shut his laptop screen and got up to brush his teeth, deciding that he’d crammed enough information about ghosts and reincarnation and things of the like for the night. He flicked on the light and took his toothbrush out of its designated Present Mic themed cup (“It kind of looks like his hair,” was he had said to the cashier after accidentally going on a tangent about what he was going to use the cup for) and squeezed a much larger dab of toothpaste than he’d hoped onto his toothbrush. Immediately before he started to brush his teeth, he spotted something—no, someone—behind him in the mirror. Izuku looked up, eyes widening at the almost peaceful glow that was being emitted from the hallway.
Yellow mist snaked up and around a familiar form, exactly like the material that All Might had appeared to be made of in One For All. The boy’s figure wasn’t complete, parts fading in and out of view as if underwater, but there was still enough of him there for Izuku to tell who it was. Tears instantly started pouring out of Izuku’s eyes as the person in front of him spoke.
“Hey, Izuku.”
Notes:
Chapter title is from I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers.
this is officially the end of the first arc, which means it’s also a good stopping point to get some sleep and drink some water and get a nice little snack. keep yourself healthy guys!
also, we’ve hit 76 kudos, 20 bookmarks, and, drumroll please…HAPPY 1,000 HITS!! crazy milestone to hit right before this chapter was written. love you guys.
oh my god he’s here guys he’s finally here i’m gonna cry…i’ve made this like slow burn supreme, and the relief in Katsuki’s voice is KILLING ME
Chapter 12: I’m Not Cold, I’m Not Cold
Summary:
Do you remember dying?
Alternatively: Katsuki recalls snippets of the past eight years.
Notes:
HUGE TW for heavy violence, gore, character death, and mention / depiction of self harm.
despite the title of this chapter (and the next one), they are both inspired by the song Stranger In You by Ebril. I highly recommend listening to it in the background as you read these next two chapters.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Bakugou Katsuki remembered dying like it was yesterday.
It was raining, and All For One had just met his unavoidable fate at the hands of Rewind. (And him; he’d done a number on the fucker too!) Katsuki had just barely stayed on his feet that long, as much as he hated to admit it, so it was no surprise that he‘d collapsed.
Everything hurt.
Katsuki, if only for the sake of the cameras he knew were stationed somewhere on the battlegrounds, and possibly for his slightly-less-inflated-than-before-ego, raised his arm in a horizontal homage to All Might.
His chest was burning from the inside out, and yet, he was so, so cold.
“Hnng,” Katsuki grimaced and whined in pain, his features pinching as he fought to take in a quick, ragged breath.
This was all wrong.
Hadn’t Edgeshot fixed him? Wasn’t he going to be okay? He wasn’t meant to die here, so why was his vision fucking swimming like that?
His ears rang, and he was once again reminded of his poor hearing with the way everything around him muffled like he was underwater. Every breath hurt, like he was breathing in thorns or lava or anything that wasn’t air. The lack of proper oxygen was making him lightheaded, and the pain was making his body tremble.
He fought to keep the blood that was threatening to choke him down, to no avail. A sickening gurgle followed every single one of his breaths, and Katsuki was sure that he would tear whatever work Edgeshot had done if he coughed it up. He gritted his teeth so hard he thought he would crack right through the bone. Stars bloomed around the edges of his vision, and all Katsuki could think about was the raw, untamed fear that was gnawing at his very core.
All Katsuki could see was red, metaphorically and literally. The blood seeping from his everywhere had made its way into his eyes, making his already heavy lids fight to keep from blinking. If he closed his eyes now, he was afraid he would never open them again.
He was so, so scared. He didn’t know where he was on the battlefield, nor if he was away from harm, and for once, he didn’t care that he was scared. He had every goddamn right to be scared. Katsuki was essentially blind and deaf, tortured by burning, agonizing pain that spread like a sick, sick disease everywhere in his body. It felt like his organs had been ripped to shreds inside of him.
His lips parted slightly, and Katsuki let out a tiny, breathy whimper.
He was going to die here, on this battlefield, all alone.
Everything felt fuzzy as Katsuki fought to stay conscious. He tried his best to lift his free arm, the one with the armor All Might had lent to him, up to his chest, gritting out a scream at the stabbing sensation that bolted its way up his bones. His right arm, the one he had attempted to move, was shattered. Beyond repair, he figured. He swallowed dryly several times and wheezed, a small, direct stream of air puffing out of his lungs.
His lungs were most likely punctured somewhere, from the way his breath was whistling. Or, at least, the way he thought his breath was whistling. His hearing was getting worse by the minute. He unclenched his teeth and let out a breathy noise, something that could have been a groan or a whimper, he wasn’t sure. Raindrops fell into his mouth, but he didn’t notice.
His eyes were so, so heavy.
No. He had to stay awake, he had to stay alive, Deku was still fighting out there!
They still had so much to do! They couldn’t be the wonder duo if there was just one of them!
His right eye sagged with the oncoming wave of lightheadedness. He started to grow frantic, desperately trying to reach his hand up to his chest again with a pained scream ripping forth from his throat. He aimlessly wandered his damaged fingers around his chest, hyperventilating with the sheer force of the pain. There was a small, vertical hole on the left side of the middle of his torso, just after his sternum. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck! His stitches had ripped open. That’s what the burning sensation was: the combination of the breeze tickling his inflamed insides and the fact that his lungs were tearing right in that moment, more with every breath he took.
His head went fuzzy for a minute, before he gasped back to life. No, no no no no no! He was losing consciousness. He couldn’t do that.
Wait, why couldn’t he do that again? Hadn’t he just been fighting All For One?
All at once, Katsuki felt light. Like he was floating, or maybe in cold water? He was cold. Something was dripping down his face. Maybe he was drowning? Why were his eyes like that? Was he hurt? He hoped it wasn’t his hands, he needed those to keep fighting with everyone else. He would be effectively quirkless without them.
Why did that remind him of something? What…why couldn’t he remember?
He tried to raise his hand to look at it, and, consequently, his throat constricted in pain. He was too tired to scream, and the blood rising in his lungs made it kind of hard to make any noise at all without it spurting up onto his lips.
Right. He was injured. His right arm was crushed, his stitches had come partially undone, and there was a hole in his lungs somewhere that was making it hard for him to breathe. There was a gash on his cheek, and he was practically drowning in his own blood.
Fuck, had he just forgotten all of that?
No! He didn’t want to be some amnesiac loser when he made it out of this! He had things to remember, fights to win, people to save!
He panicked, gasping for air. No, no no no no no, this couldn’t be happening!
Dizziness threatened to take over his brain again, and Katsuki whined fearfully. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to die yet, this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen, he was supposed to win! Win to save, and save to win, right, Izuku? He couldn’t win if he didn’t make it out alive! That didn’t count! Even if he beat the big bad, even if he’d won in the public’s eye, dying meant game over forever!
God, he was thinking like fucking Shigaraki! Game over his ass!
He started to hyperventilate again, gritting his teeth and fighting the sparks dancing along the edges of his vision. He tried to take a full breath, just to prove to himself that he was still alive and still fighting, because he needed to still be alive right then. He needed to make it out of there so he could see his mom again, his dad, Izuku.
He needed to see Izuku reach his goal. He’d just promised he wouldn’t stand in his way anymore! What kind of sick joke was this? He needed to know his friend was okay!
Tears mixed with the raindrops falling from the sky dripped down Katsuki’s face, and suddenly, on the upbeat of one of his breaths, something ripped. A searing hot pain flashed across his chest, just for a split second, and before he knew it, he was on the outside of his body looking in.
Looking down at his body (he didn’t want to say corpse quite yet), he felt…calm.
The nagging fear was still there, yeah, but…less so, now that he knew he couldn’t escape his fate any longer.
Katsuki situated himself beside his body, sitting cross legged so he could look at the damage. He tilted his head to the side with a deadpan expression.
Blood was caked almost everywhere on his face, and his eyes no longer darted around, begging for sight. All they did was look vacantly off into the distance, glassy and unfocused. One of them was closed, or sagging, at the very least. His left arm was still straight up, and his right had fallen to his side.
He looked so unlike himself.
That scared him. So, incredibly much.
He tried to whisk a hand over his—or, what used to be his—face to wipe away the tears and the raindrops that had pooled in his ears, but his hand just phased through it. That was too bad. He leaned back into his original sitting position and continued to examine his body.
Katsuki wasn’t sure how long he wanted to stay there, before…whatever was next. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was next yet.
Maybe he would just sit there for a while.
Yeah. Maybe he would just sit there for a while.
—
It hadn’t taken Katsuki long (or, at least, he thought it wasn’t very long: maybe his perception of time was altered in this state) to notice that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He’d realized something was up when he’d watched the clean-up-crew (or, the paramedics, as Izuku would say) cover his body with a layer of fabric and haul it away.
He wondered if he would ever see his body again. Probably not. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was feeling so reflective right then, but he wasn’t confident it was a good thing.
Katsuki somehow ended up wandering over to the main battle area, which was in shreds. Rubble was everywhere, and his classmates were just barely still evacuating, a few stragglers here and there making sure it was really over.
It was over? Had he been there for that long?
Or maybe he’d finished his fight at the same time as everyone else, and it had really only been a few minutes. Or maybe the walk over took more time than he’d thought? He was so goddamn confused.
He spotted Izuku standing limply on the battlefield, folded over himself like he was about to fall over, and almost let out a guttural sob. Shigaraki was nowhere to be seen, which meant he’d done it.
“Izuku!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse from the volume. Izuku didn’t look up. He ran over and skidded to a stop in front of his friend. “Izuku, you bastard, you did it!” He reached his hands out to place them on his friends shoulders to shake the shit out of him, but he just…fell through.
Katsuki’s arms stretched out in front of him as he fell, sliding across the ground. He didn’t feel any pain, though. He expected to be all scraped up from the rubble.
Oh. Right.
“Fuck!!” Katsuki growled, pushing himself up off the ground. He raced back over to his best friend, attempting to grab Izuku by the back of his shirt. His hand phased through him again, and Katsuki yelled in anguish.
“No!!” Fat, salty tears had started pouring out of his eyes as he tried again and again to interact with Izuku, falling to the ground each and every time.
After more than twenty attempts to get his friend's attention, Katsuki slumped to the ground beside Izuku, legs crossed, head down and in his hands.
He was really dead. There was no undo button, no second chance this time.
He was just…gone.
He would never tease Shitty Hair or Raccoon Eyes or Sparky ever again. He would never scold Half-N-Half for his terrible cooking, he would never spar with Pink Cheeks, he would never sit in content silence with Bird Brain.
He would never talk with the hag, or his dad.
He would never compete with Izuku.
Katsuki let out a small, pitiful sob.
He wished in that moment, more than anything, that death was just a bluescreen, and not whatever hell he’d just been dropped into.
—
Watching Izuku grade papers was one of Katsuki’s guilty pleasures.
The damn nerd was always so focused, and Katsuki could admit that Izuku didn’t look half bad with reading glasses on. That was something that took him a few years to unpack, but hey, he had all the time in the world.
Katsuki would sit in the chair opposite to him or on his bed and just watch Izuku work sometimes. If he wasn’t at the office, that was. If he was at the office, Katsuki would sit by his chair and people watch. It’s not like he had anything else to do, and he’d made something of a routine for himself over the years; he wasn’t planning on breaking it now.
Eight years was a lot of time to think, and Katsuki had used that time to watch his friend grow, rather than bathe in his own self-pity.
It had taken Katsuki a while to get the hang of the whole being-a-ghost thing, but eventually, he learned to settle. Now all he did was follow Izuku around like a kicked puppy, which had irritated him at first, but he’d gotten over himself in time. He had to make sure Izuku didn’t get into trouble. Just because Katsuki hadn’t made it to twenty five in his actual body didn’t mean Izuku could slack off on living.
Even though Katsuki couldn’t actually intervene if he tried anything, he’d do his damn best to will his insults and demands into him from the other side.
For now, though, everything was okay. Izuku was a teacher now, which hadn’t been much of a surprise to Katsuki. Of course the nerd would be a fucking teacher of all things, he had enough facts in that big ass head of his to write an entire encyclopedia and then some on heroes,
The reveal of the hero suit had made Katsuki choke on his own spit, though. That thing had to have been, like, a fuck ton of money to make! How the hell did Eraserhead and Principal Nedzu manage that?!
Along with the initial surprise, it had also made Katsuki’s gut twist with a heavy, heavy sadness. Izuku was going to get the chance to be a hero. That had been his reason for living for as long as Katsuki could remember, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t insanely happy for him, but…
He wouldn’t be on Izuku’s heels anymore.
And maybe it was selfish of Katsuki to think that, but he couldn’t help it. That had been the plan since forever, for them to keep competing for the rest of their lives, quirk or no quirk. But now, there was no one for Izuku to compete with anymore.
That he could see, anyway.
Katsuki tilted his head in his hand, sitting backwards in the chair opposite to Izuku.
There was no need to dwell on that now, though.
He had an eternity to dwell, but he only had sixty more years with Izuku. He wanted to make the best of it.
—
Something was wrong.
The other vestiges were rowdier than usual, and though Katsuki didn’t usually pay attention to them, he was concerned that whatever the fuck they were so worked up about had to do with Izuku.
The man in question had been more jittery than usual, and though he’d initially chalked it up to coincidence, after the first instances of Izuku directly responding to the frequenters of his apartment, Katsuki couldn’t deny the worst case scenario any longer.
Izuku could somehow hear them.
And Katsuki was getting so, selfishly excited.
Until things took a turn for the worst.
Izuku was distressed; he had every right to be. But Katsuki had never thought it would get so bad.
He’d tried to get the other vestiges to leave him alone, to stop trying to interact with the fucker if he clearly couldn’t understand them, but a lot of the aforementioned ghosts had been there so much longer than Katsuki had, so no matter how much he yelled or screamed at them to leave him the fuck alone, they wouldn’t listen to him. They were just excited to have something to do other than talk to each other for a change, he got that, but it was infuriating to watch them basically psychologically torture Izuku.
When Izuku had reached for the boxcutter, Katsuki had panicked, images of pill bottles and scissors flashing through his head, and instinctively reached to push it away.
And somehow, it worked.
By some stroke of luck, Katsuki had managed to interact with a material object. But Izuku was stubborn. He grabbed the knife again, and put it up to his belly. Katsuki had screamed in anger and attempted to knock it out of his hands, only succeeding right before he made the first cut. Izuku had gotten frustrated and grabbed it again, and Katsuki had repeated the action.
”Kacchan, give it back.”
Katsuki had frozen right in his tracks. He sat there, mouth wide open for a few moments. He sucked in a breath of air and, in the gentlest voice he could muster, spoke.
“Izuku, can you hear me?
The boy had started to cry, abandoning the knife on the ground and curling up in the corner between his bedside table and his bed.
No. He couldn’t.
But Katsuki could try anyway. He’d known he was there, somehow, and Katsuki wanted to know more. He wanted to see if he could help somehow; what kind of hero would he be, what kind of friend would he be, if he just let Izuku suffer?
Katsuki leaned in close, and stage-whispered into his friend's ear.
”Stop waiting for me, idiot.”
—
Katsuki was beyond grateful (even though he hated to admit it) to Pink Cheeks for reaching out to Aizawa. Otherwise, Katsuki would have probably had to perform another miracle to stop Izuku from making a decision he couldn’t undo, and he wasn’t confident that stroke of luck would come again.
Sure, Izuku had glanced in Katsuki’s general direction a few times since then, but that was normal. People saw things all the time, and it was just a coincidence that he happened to look Katsuki’s way.
But this time was different.
While Izuku had been conversing with their former teacher, Katsuki hadn’t been far behind. He’d sat beside him in an attempt to console him from the other side, if only to lend him a familiar presence or feeling. But as Izuku continued to be stubborn, Katsuki was getting increasingly more frustrated. Why couldn’t the idiot just ask for help? It wasn’t like Aizawa was going to fucking bite him or something, so why was he being so fucking stubborn?
Katsuki had made the brash statement of “Tell him where the goddamn knives are” in the same way someone watching a cheesy horror flick told the main character they were being an idiot, and to turn-around-the-killer-is-right-there, not actually expecting Izuku to respond. But he’d registered his voice. He’d looked directly at him, and then burst into tears.
Katsuki was stunned. He hadn’t expected that, not in a million years.
He felt horrible for feeling this way, but the excitement was back.
There was a chance he was going to get to talk to his best friend—no. Izuku was more than that now. He was going to get to talk to Izuku again, for real this time. Not just one sided conversations, not just coincidental glances. Real, registered conversation. And maybe, just maybe, Izuku would be able to see him, too.
Katsuki hadn’t ever imagined it would come to this. Not in the eight years he’d been dead, not ever.
But he had to try. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t, and he had enough guilt to last the eternity he was in for already. He didn’t need any more of that shit.
So, when everyone had left and it was just him and Izuku, Katsuki hatched a plan.
When he’d pushed the knife out of his friend’s hands, he’d been overcome with emotion. He’d practically willed it to happen.
So what would it hurt for him to try that again, but with the whole shebang? Vision, hearing and all.
Standing in the hallway he’d grown to know so well, Katsuki shut his eyes tight and spoke out loud, as if to plead with whatever was out there allowing Izuku to hear the vestiges around him.
“I want him to see me.”
And, when Izuku had subsequently glanced over, Katsuki couldn’t stop the small smile from forming on his face. He swore he felt a heart beat in his chest, like a little bird’s wings. Katsuki hadn’t felt that in a long time.
”Hey, Izuku.”
Notes:
Chapter title is from come by Adrianne Lenker.
BAM SURPRISE EARLY CHAPTER!! it’s to make up for the short chapter, but i’m still gonna torture you with the cliffhanger because hey man. it’s plot armor for you and them atp.
apologies if i kept some things vague in this chapter, there’s a reason!! there’s a reason!!
also, thank you to those of you who have left kind comments, kudos etc, they make my day!!
also!! happy 30k words!! we’re almost at 100 kudos, which is so crazy. I have a little thing planned for that milestone…perhaps…I’m very excited about it is all i’ll say.
Chapter 13: Shaky Like The First Dance
Summary:
Reunion. (Something’s changed.)
Alternatively: Izuku and Katsuki reunite, but something is different now. Neither of them are sure what yet.
Notes:
despite the title of this chapter (and the previous one), they are both inspired by the song Stranger In You by Ebril. I highly recommend listening to it in the background as you read these two chapters. ESPECIALLY this one: the first part of this chapter is what inspired the song for the previous one. if that makes any sense.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Hey, Izuku.”
—
Izuku felt like he was floating.
This couldn’t be real, right?
Especially with the way Kacchan was looking at him right then.
He had to be dreaming.
Izuku’s mouth slowly opened, lips parting tentatively as he tried to process Katsuki’s presence in front of him.
“Hi.” His voice was laced with wonder, and maybe a slight tint of hesitation. Tears slid down Izuku’s face, landing in his shirt and onto the floor.
And, to Izuku’s surprise, Katsuki was crying too. Iridescent tears fell down his friend’s foggy, transparent face, sparkling like something out of a movie.
Izuku put his toothbrush down on the counter and took a hesitant step forward so he could face Katsuki fully. “You look…older.”
Katsuki nodded slowly, as if in just as much disbelief as Izuku was. “Believe it or not, I didn’t want to look dead for all of eternity.”
Yellow mist wrapped around the two of them, constantly moving, like running water.
Izuku reached a tentative hand out, attempting to run his fingers along Katsuki’s scar, but was met with his hand falling right through. A cold feeling washed over Izuku, similar to what he’d felt when the villain had grabbed him.
Except this time, it made him feel calm. At peace, even.
And everything was quiet. For the first time in six days, Izuku could hear his own thoughts, and nothing else except the silence of his apartment, the barely perceptible rushing of the mist, and Katsuki’s voice.
“You can’t touch me, Izuku.”
The boy in question tilted his head to the side, and mimicked what his hand would have done if it were resting on Katsuki’s skin rather than falling through. He ran his fingers along the edges of the scar, and around the small tears that were stroking his friend’s cheeks. Izuku’s face stayed loose in disbelief, even as the tears falling down his face grew heavier and more insistent, clouding his vision. He barely even heard what his friend had said through his awe.
”It’s really you, right?” Izuku paused to steady his quiet, shaking voice. “Please tell me it’s you, and I’m not making this up. Prove to me it’s you, Kacchan.”
His friend’s expression softened, but his smile seemed to grow. “How the hell am I meant to do that, Izuku?” His voice was teasing, but gentle. Quiet, but not a whisper.
Izuku continued to trace Katsuki’s skin, running his fingers through his hair and around his face, trying to wipe transparent tears from his cheeks.
”Tell me something only you know. Something I don’t know you know, so I know you’re not just a hallucination.”
Katsuki took a moment to think, letting his gaze fall to Izuku’s fingers on his cheek. His smile softened for a moment as he tried to come up with a suitable memory.
”You started calling me Kacchan because you couldn’t figure out how to pronounce Katsuki properly.”
Izuku’s eyes creased with how hard he was smiling, tears falling into his mouth and between his teeth.
“Oh, Kacchan,” Izuku’s knees buckled underneath him from the sheer force of his relief, and he fell to the ground, his knees clicking against the linoleum tile of his bathroom floor. Katsuki leaned down to sit on his knees as well, smiling just as hard as Izuku was.
”You fucking loser,” the blonde laughed through his tears, leaning forward to try and comfort the now sobbing Izuku. Their foreheads didn’t quite touch, but if Katsuki leaned forward any more, he would fall right through. “Stop fucking sobbing, idiot, it’s gonna be okay. I’m here now, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, not ever again.”
Izuku couldn’t stop the tears from coming any more, so he just broke. Loud, wet sobs ripped through his throat as all the memories of him and his friend swam insistently to the front of his brain.
The river, where Izuku had held out his hand.
The plaza, where Katsuki had held out his.
Katsuki standing on top of that building, his eyes glassy, small explosions going off around him like fireworks and sweat dripping down his cheeks.
Katsuki fighting alongside him for the last time, stars in his eyes, sparks coursing through his veins and popping around him like little sparklers.
The hospital room where everything had changed.
If his theory was right, this moment meant Izuku had his friend back. For good this time.
Izuku was so, unbelievably happy.
For good, this time.
—
Izuku and Katsuki sat with their backs against the wall, having moved into the hallway so they could sit beside each other.
Izuku was still hiccuping and sniffling, and Katsuki was just sitting there, eyes glued to his green haired companion.
”How… How are you here?”
Katsuki averted his eyes for a moment, letting his head fall against the wall. Izuku had expected it to fall through, but it didn’t.
”I’m…not sure, ‘zuku. I just never left, I guess.” Katsuki pulled his knees up to his chest and ran his hands through his hair, pulling any stray chunks away from his face. His face soured. “It’s so fucking confusing, don’t even get me started.”
The nickname Katsuki used made Izuku’s heart clench. He’d never called him that before.
All Izuku could look at was the (healed) gash on Katsuki’s face, and the scarlet of his eyes. He’d gotten that while fighting Tenko, right?
Izuku’s face fell. ”Oh. Sorry.”
Katsuki sneered, shooting him a glare. “Izuku, stop that shit. You know I’m not actually mad.”
Izuku hiccuped and smiled nervously, a hand coming up to twirl one of his curls in his fingers. “Well…I wasn’t sure, since it’s been…” He trailed off.
”Eight years.” Katsuki finished his thought for him, looking directly into his eyes. “It’s been eight years.”
There was a heavy silence between the two of them for a moment, before Izuku spoke again.
”I’m sorry.”
Katsuki glanced at him. “For what, nerd?”
Izuku looked at the floor, trying not to burst into tears again. He looked like a little kid, legs stretched out so his feet were touching the other wall, sitting in the hallway with his friend with a teary expression. He let his hand fall to his lap.
“For not being able to save you.”
Katsuki scoffed, and Izuku quickly looked up.
”Cut the shit, Deku. There was nothing you could’ve done.”
”Yes, there was!” Izuku turned towards him, hands palm down at his sides. “I could have gotten there earlier, but Toga—“
“Shut it!” Katsuki shouted, and Izuku flinched backwards. Something flashed through the blonde boy’s eyes, something that Izuku almost registered as…guilt? Regret?
Something had changed in the boy. Something Izuku wasn’t sure he was ready to face yet.
Katsuki sighed, expression softening from the snarl he’d worn earlier. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”
Izuku nodded, and Katsuki’s face scrunched. “You’re not supposed to agree, dumbass! Whatever, not the fucking point. You have nothing to be sorry for, and that’s the end of it. Stop blaming yourself for something that was out of your control.”
Izuku hadn’t realized that tears had started to mar his cheeks again. “I’m sorry.”
Katsuki turned his head and pursed his lips. “I thought I told you to cut the crybaby crap. And stop apologizing.”
Izuku wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, and nodded. “Sorry, I’ll…I’ll stop.”
“Tch,” Katsuki scoffed and turned his head back to its original position.
Izuku sniffled, wiping his nose on his arm. “I have so many questions, Kacchan.”
Katsuki nodded. “‘Course you do.”
Izuku looked up at his friend’s scar again. “Was it…terrifying?”
Katsuki furrowed his brow and turned his head to look at Izuku. “Dying?”
Izuku nodded.
”Really. That’s the first fucking thing you ask? Not, ‘why are you in my apartment’, not ‘how the hell can I see you’, but is dying fucking scary?”
Izuku thought for a minute, his brain bluescreening as he tried to process Katsuki’s words. He gasped and looked at Katsuki with renewed vigor. “You’re right, why are you in my apartment?”
Katsuki laughed, covering his eyes with his hand. “Goddamnit Izuku.”
”What? You told me to ask!”
”The hell I didn’t!”
”Yes you did! You just said—“
”Fuck off!”
The two of them laughed for a few minutes, arguing back and forth about who was right and who was wrong (Izuku ended up just giving up, not bothering with the argument any further after Katsuki started to turn his words back on him) before going quiet again.
Katsuki looked at the wall pensively. “Of course it was.”
”Hm?” Izuku looked up.
“Dying. It was scary as hell.”
Izuku felt his chest tighten.
Katsuki continued. “But only for a few minutes.”
Izuku’s eyebrows pinched together. “How so?”
He looked over. “You really want to know?”
Izuku thought for a moment, looking back at the floor. “Maybe not.”
Katsuki hummed. “Thought so.”
They sat in silence for a few moments before Kacchan spoke again.
”Dying itself wasn’t scary, just the lead-up.” He paused. “If that helps or whatever.”
Izuku nodded. “That makes sense.”
Izuku looked at the ceiling for a few beats, debating which question he wanted to ask next. There were so many things he wanted to know, but he also didn’t want to potentially overwhelm Kacchan.
”What did you do?”
Kacchan hummed. “Elaborate, nerd.”
”To fill the time. Eight years is a long time.”
Izuku could have sworn he saw a blush rise on his semi-transparent friend’s face (though, for whatever reason, he seemed less translucent than before, and more defined) when he asked that question.
”That’s none of your fucking business, Deku!” He turned to shout at him, and Izuku smiled sheepishly and shrunk in on himself.
”Ack, sorry!”
”Stop fucking apologizing!”
”Okay, okay, okay!” Izuku raised his hands in defeat, and Kacchan grinned.
”Good. Smart choice.”
Izuku was almost taken aback by how genuine his friend’s smile looked. Sure, it still looked like Kacchan’s smile, but it wasn’t entirely aggressive this time around. It looked happy. That wasn’t like Kacchan, not the one he knew.
Eight years was a long time. Maybe he’d done some work on himself.
Izuku wasn’t prepared for that.
Just as the thought passed, something clicked in his head, and Izuku’s mouth dropped open. He was in his apartment. Why was he in his apartment? He twisted to gawk at Katsuki.
”Oh my god, have you been here the whole time?!”
Katsuki had an odd reaction to that, his ears turning red and his hand coming up to his mouth. He usually yelled, screamed, or shook Izuku by the shoulders. This time, Katsuki wouldn’t even look him in the eye.
“You have! Kacchan, oh my god! Oh, my god!” Izuku’s surprise (and excitement: why was he excited?) morphed a grin onto his face.
”Shut it, nerd.” Katsuki dragged his hand down his face, his bottom eyelid pulling down with it. “I had to make sure you didn’t slack off on living.”
Izuku’s excitement dulled a little bit at the revelation, but he still had so many questions, therefore it just came rushing back.
How long had he been following him? Did Kacchan just…immediately look for Izuku after he died? (The thought made Izuku’s heart beat a little faster, though he wasn’t sure why.) Did he ever leave, did he just follow him around all the time?
What had he seen?
Izuku’s face grew tomato red, and he waved his hands around in a panic.
”Kacchan, did you see me naked?! Please don’t tell me you watched me change! Oh my god, my shower is glass!”
Katsuki blew up, (though there were no sparks, which mildly concerned Izuku) turning his body fully to scold him. “What the fuck?! Of course I didn’t, who do you think I am, asshole?!”
Izuku cowered, covering his head with his arms in an X.
“I might be a fucking jerk, but I am not a creep!”
Izuku whimpered sheepishly, smiling nervously. “Okay, okay, okay, I got it, I’m sorry!”
Katsuki slumped back down, muttering expletives to himself. “You fucking better be.”
There was a pause as Izuku gathered himself, and Katsuki turned his head over his shoulder to look at him.
”Got any more questions, nerd?”
Izuku swallowed, trying to wipe the hot feeling off his cheeks (he couldn’t stop thinking about Kacchan staring at him through the glass of his shower, and that made it extremely hard to make the red on his face recede) before debating what Katsuki had said.
He had so many more questions, but be doubted Kacchan had the answers to all of them. And Izuku still had to go to sleep: it was pretty late, he assumed, though he didn’t have his watch on him.
So, he chose the one that had been nagging at him since he’d first heard Katsuki’s voice.
“What did you think I was waiting for?”
“Hm?” He raised an eyebrow.
“You said that I needed to stop waiting for you. You’re here now, so I guess that’s null, but still. What did you think I was waiting to do?”
Katsuki didn’t smile, he didn’t taunt Izuku, and he didn’t yell or scream like the green haired boy was so used to. Katsuki spoke in a soft voice that set Izuku’s nerves on fire.
“To be happy.”
Notes:
Chapter title is from heavy focus by adrienne lenker.
this was a rough one. He’s here he’s here he’s here!!!! imagine having your dead best friend just show up in your apartment, acting way nicer than you remember and CRYING. the whiplash oh my god
I originally was going to have izuku’s POV have katsuki referred to as kacchan in every instance, but it felt like that one outtake from izuku’s VA from the provisional licensing exam where he just said “kacchan kacchan kacchan kacchan, kacchan kacchan kacchan” for a solid ten seconds, and i was pissing myself off. now katsuki is referred to as Kacchan only when Izuku is directly thinking of him. like “kacchan would never do that,” vs “katsuki raised his hand”. so anytime before this chapter / any time that isn’t katsuki’s pov before this chapter, he’s still referred to as kacchan…I hope.
also if you know the blooper i’m talking about i love you /pl
happy 1.5k hits, 23 bookmarks, 92 kudos!! thank you for any and all interaction, especially comments!! i love replying to you guys.
Chapter 14: And The Angel Leans at The End of The Bed
Summary:
The morning after.
Notes:
HAPPY 100 KUDOS!!!!!!!! (109 at the time I’m writing this)((and happy late halloween!!))
for the occasion, I’ve created a piece of art to share with you guys. i know it’s not cake but i don’t think they’ve invented the technology for me to feed you guys cake through a screen, so this will have to do. let me know if y’all want more, i do a lot of concept art for my stories!!
[X] <— link to my tumblr / the art post
i’ve never used tumblr legitimately before so uhh we’re gonna figure this out together. enjoy the chapter, it’s fluff for once.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Izuku woke up in his bed, though he wasn’t entirely sure how he got there. The night before was a blur.
He sat up, blearily looking around his room. Izuku rubbed his eyes and yawned, squinting in an attempt to make out the figure by his bed.
Katsuki was sitting with his back to the bedframe, arms crossed and staring out into space. At the sound of Izuku yawning, he glanced over, leaning his head onto the mattress to get a good look at him.
”Morning, nerd. Sleep well?”
The green haired teacher almost jumped up and out of his bed at the sound of Katuki’s voice. Izuku was still drowsy and blubbery with sleep, so his perception rate was a little sluggish, but after a few moments, he could tell at least one thing for sure.
Katsuki was still there. Which meant that the night before hadn’t been a dream, like he’d initially assumed.
And everything was quiet.
”Mhgmm…” Izuku rubbed his eyes and yawned, his mouth sticky and his throat dry. He snaked his hand over to his bedside table, eyes squinted, attempting to get a hold of his phone to check the time. He had no idea where he’d put his reading glasses, so he’d just have to work extra hard to figure it out.
His fingers stumbled over the screen, but he eventually picked up the device and brought it up towards him. The screen read—or, Izuku hoped it read—half past seven, and he had several unread messages from Mr. Aizawa, Kirishima and Uraraka.
Izuku whined to himself, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He didn’t want to respond right then, and he felt really horrible for that, but he had also just gotten up. They would be okay if he just…like…showered first, right?
”What’re you thinking about, ‘zuku?” Izuku startled again, dropping his phone onto the bedsheets. Katsuki shouted at him. “Hah?! Did you already forget I was here, asshole?”
Izuku shot him the best nervous smile he could muster and swung his legs off the side of the bed, his feet landing next to Katsuki’s legs. He was sitting cross legged, arms still crossed. “Sorry, Kacchan. I kind of thought last night—” He yawned again “—was a dream. But you’re still here, so either I’m still dreaming, or it’s real.” Izuku stretched his arms out and arched his back, then went back to his previous sitting position. He swore he caught a tinge of pink on his friends' much less transparent cheeks. Since when did Kacchan look so…opaque? Maybe it was because of the lack of the yellow mist? Probably. He looked more…concrete…than ‘opaque’, if he really thought about it. Defined. That was a better word. Like he wasn’t going to fade away, but he still wasn’t fully there.
He took a moment to study Katsuki, noting the significant decrease in phasing in and out of…whatever plane they were on. Though his figure did still wobble slightly, like it itself was uncertain of its permanence.
Oh. Right. He’d been talking.
Wha was he saying again?
Right. He wasn’t dreaming, so it had to be real.
Izuku swallowed, praying Katsuki didn’t think too hard about him getting lost in his thoughts. “I’m inclined to believe the latter.”
Katsuki scoffed, clearly a little intrigued by the long pause. “Idiot. Of course it wasn’t a dream, and it’d be a really fucking weird dream for you to have if it was.”
Izuku nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess it would be.” He stood from the bed, leaned down to touch his toes in hopes of getting his legs to stop feeling so tight, then got up again. He turned to look at Katsuki, running one of his hands down his face.
”I’ve gotta shower ‘n brush my teeth. Do you mind, uh…” He stumbled around his words for a minute, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth, before just gesturing to where Katsuki was.
”Yeah, nerd. Not like I was gonna follow you in anyway.”
Izuku nodded and padded over to his closet, opening the shutter door and grabbing an outfit to wear for the day. A white tee shirt with his classic “tee-shirt” lettering on it and a pair of green and red flannel pyjama pants were pulled out before he made his way to the bathroom. He tried not to focus too hard on the way Katsuki’s eyes followed him everywhere he went.
He slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, dropping his folded clothes onto the floor and twisting the knob in his shower to hot. Izuku glanced in the mirror, taking in his semi-sunken eyes and his curly green hair. He pulled one of said strands of hair to its full length—only slightly longer than how it had presented—and frowned. He needed to get his hair cut before he started teaching again; his students would never stop talking about it if he came in with the mop of green hair on his head he was sporting now. The back had curled towards his ears, growing oddly like some kind of mullet, while the rest had grown outwards, making it look like he was wearing a clown wig of sorts. He wondered momentarily, as he took his clothes off, why Katsuki hadn’t mentioned it. Normally he was all for making fun of Izuku.
Then again, he’d probably been around long enough to watch it grow in real time, so maybe he hadn’t noticed. Or he had, and didn’t want to ruin the moment? That wasn’t like him either.
Maybe Izuku’s perception of him was warped.
Whatever, he would cut it himself later.
He stepped into the shower and let the hot—too hot: he had to twist it the opposite direction to avoid yelping at the scolding water hitting his shoulders—water cascade down his back and into his hair, the curls falling flat on the back of his neck and over his face. He pulled his hair back with his hands and sighed, tilting his head upwards.
So. To recap.
There was a villain after him. He’d been hearing voices, and now he wasn’t—which he was extremely grateful for, don’t get him wrong, but it was weird.
To add onto that, he was seeing his dead best friend as some sort of ghost due to, if his theory was correct, a quirk the formerly mentioned villain transferred to him. Transfer was the only option, given Kodama had told Tsukauchi he was quirkless in the interrogation, and that hadn’t raised any alarm bells in the detective's head, nor had it triggered a reaction in his quirk. So it had to be true.
Izuku lathered a pump of shampoo into his curls, tilting his head to the side and staring at the wall as he thought.
This was a shitshow.
And he had to teach a high school Hero History and Ethics class in two days, (if he counted the passing of the present one).
Izuku ran a hand down his face. He’d have to make a call to Mr. Aizawa later to finally update him on the situation at hand, too.
Izuku was so, so fucked.
—
Katsuki was panicking.
He hadn’t felt weird about not needing to sleep in a long time, but the night before had made him feel dirty.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t stayed in the nerd’s room before, but that was different. Izuku couldn’t see him then, but he could see him now. So just sitting in his room while he slept felt a little creep-ish.
But, god, when Izuku was sleeping, he looked so…
The words died on his tongue, because the thought that he was about to think of that idiot as “cute” made his stomach twist. Peaceful would have been a better word, so why was his first thought fucking “cute”?
Katsuki groaned into his hands, pulling his knees up and leaning back on the bed.
All of this was so confusing.
Did this whole…revelation…mean things were going to go back to normal between them? Or had their dynamic already shifted?
Katsuki wasn’t sure if he wanted things to go back to the way they were before. Not now that he’d seen into Izuku’s personal life, not now that he’d been dropped into a hell of his own creation, forced into isolation for eight years with nothing to do but reflect on his own misdoings.
Maybe it was selfish to desire this, but Katsuki wanted to start over with Izuku. He would never be fully deserving of the boy’s fondness, whatever that fondness was and would be in coming times, but maybe if they started over, he would have a chance at being better.
He glanced through his fingers at the closed bathroom door, then shut his eyes again.
If Katsuki was able to manipulate material objects, he would have been making breakfast or coffee right now. And though he would say it was only because he was hungry, it would partially be for the nerd so he didn’t forget to eat.
But no. He didn’t even have an appetite anymore, nor did he have the ability to actually cook anything. His first attempt had ended as soon as it began, because Katsuki couldn’t even pick up the pot.
Cooking was one of Katsuki’s favorite things to do while he was alive. Even if he complained every time Sparky or Raccoon Eyes begged him to cook for them, it was one of his favorite pastimes. But he couldn’t do that anymore. Hell, he couldn’t even open the cabinet, let alone work the oven.
He’d lost everything he liked to do when he died. Except hang out with the nerd, but that was only halfway true. He was hanging out with him, sure, but Izuku didn’t know he was there, so Katsuki was really just stalking him at that point. Imagine that: Bakugou Katsuki, stalking Midoriya Izuku.
That thought alone made him feel a little more nauseated.
He hadn’t really stopped to think about why he chose Izuku of all people to cling to. He could have chosen Shitty Hair, his mom, his dad…But he hadn’t. The first person he thought of was Izuku. Maybe it was because he felt guilty: maybe he was punishing himself for treating the guy so shittily. Maybe it was because their relationship had finally started on an upward trend, going from friends to rivals to frenemies to possibly friends again—though he was pretty sure that was only on his side of things. Izuku’s chart probably went: “best friend in the whole world” to “best friend in the whole world who calls me useless” to “best friend who told me to kill myself (but I don’t really care because he’s my best friend)” to “best friend who hates me for trying to be better (but I’m not really trying to be better: he’s my hero!)” and back to “best friend in the whole world”. He was fucking stupid like that.
Maybe it was something else entirely that Katsuki didn’t have the wherewithal to face right then.
Maybe Katsuki wanted Izu—
“Hey.”
Izuku walked out of the bathroom with a fresh pair of clothes on, and his dirty ones balled in his scarred hand. He had a towel slung over his shoulder, and his hair was still damp, but not fully soaked.
“Hey, nerd.”
“Uhm…do you need to eat, or…?” Izuku walked over to a small laundry bag placed on the floor of his closet and stuffed his worn clothes into it, glancing over at Katsuki with a curious look on his face.
Katsuki scoffed, his lips pulling up in a faux snarl. “Take a minute to think about that really hard, and ask me again.”
Izuku smiled and chuckled, standing up. “Got it, I won’t ask you anything ever again. Lesson learned.”
Katsuki grinned, standing up. “Since when does the great Midoriya Izuku do talk-back?”
Izuku seemed stunned for a moment, almost imperceptibly so, but quickly regained his composure. His sassy smile came back as he spoke. “Since his best friend started to get on his nerves.” He trotted towards the kitchen, discarding his towel on the bed on his way, and clicked the little button on his kettle to boil the water for his coffee.
Katsuki followed suit, leaning against the counter. “You’re lying, I’m awesome and you know it.” He chose to ignore the stumble for now.
Izuku tilted his head back and over his shoulder to look at Katsuki. ”Mm…no, actually, you’re a jerk and I hate you, matter of fact.”
Katsuki’s heart beat—or whatever that thing was in his chest mimicking a heartbeat—quickened. He couldn’t say he hated this side of Izuku.
The blonde scoffed, trying to play off the shake in his voice. “Oh, fuck off! You talk to Auntie Inko with that mouth?”
Izuku, now pouring boiling water and some dehydrated coffee pellets into his mug, rolled his eyes. Katsuki could barely make it out, though, since Izuku was facing the counter and not him.
“Kacchan, I didn’t even swear.”
“Jerk is basically a swear to you, fuckwad.”
“No, it is not!”
Katsuki leaned back on his elbows. “Oh, so you’re telling me you’ve said worse? You’re a fucking liar. I’ve been here for the better half of eight years, and I haven’t heard you say anything more than crap the entire goddamn time.”
Izuku muttered into his cup of coffee, looking off to the side with his eyebrows raised. “Well, you said you didn’t watch me all the time…”
If Katsuki had been sipping a drink, he would have probably done a spit take. He tried to ignore the sudden warmth in his ears.
“Oh, fuck off with that! God, what the hell happened to you? What have you done with my nerd?”
”What have you done with my Kacchan?”
Katsuki scoffed. ”Go to hell.”
”You first.”
Izuku sipped his coffee, shooting a glare that could kill a hundred men in one fell swoop at Katsuki, who was trying his hardest not to grin.
They sat there in content silence for a while, Izuku nursing his coffee and Katsuki watching him with gentler-than-Izuku-was-used-to eyes.
Maybe they didn’t have to start over after all.
Notes:
Chapter title is from ingydar by Adrianne Lenker.
dude izuku is over here working school days, doing patrols in his free time and experiencing the horrors all at once, and then there’s katsuki over here being a giddy, doesn’t-know-he’s-got-a-fucking-crush little kid. “ohh he’s so cute when he sleeps ^-^” dude katsuki lock the FUCK in.
also, i’m not sure why i’ve switched to posting these in the mornings, but i think i might try and get back to posting them at the normal time (evening for me ish) who knows man
Chapter 15: I Find a Stranger in You
Summary:
Izuku asks more questions, and Katsuki says something mildly jarring. (Post coffee consumption, thank god.)
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Izuku laid down on the couch, feet hanging over the edge and head resting at an odd angle on the armrest.
”Kacchan,” Izuku turned his head to face the boy, who was sitting back to the couch, head in line with Izuku’s knees.
”What?” Katsuki leaned his head back onto the couch cushion behind him.
“Are you okay if I ask you more questions?”
Katsuki scoffed and slouched back into his original position, looking out into the rest of the apartment rather than at Izuku.
”Go for it. Just don’t get too fucking personal, got it?”
Izuku nodded. “Of course! If I ask a question that makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to answer it!”
”Hah?! You think I’d get queasy from your nerdy ass quizzing? Just don’t ask any stupid questions!” Katsuki shouted, his head at an angle to look up at Izuku.
The green haired boy in question deflated a little bit, muttering sheepishly. “Right. Of course.” He and Katsuki both flumped back down onto the couch, Izuku laying his head back down and Katsuki doing the same.
There were so many things he could ask. How he was interacting with the couch right then was a pretty good example. Or maybe why he didn’t eat? Did Kacchan not have a digestive system, or was it simply because he couldn’t interact with material objects? What was stopping him from doing that? Was he more of an apparition, or more of a projection from another plane? Why couldn’t Izuku touch him? Well, it was kind of embarrassing if he phrased it like that, it wasn’t like he wanted to touch him, right? That would be kind of weird. Oh god, what if he did want that? What would that mean? Did he want that?
“Nerd. Quit muttering.”
Izuku’s face flushed bright red, his cheeks fuzzy and hot. Crap.
“Sorry, Kacchan.”
He really hoped he didn’t say that last part out loud. That would make for an…interesting conversation.
“Just spit it out already, ‘zuku.”
Okay. Back on topic. Objects. Food.
“Do you not have an appetite at all?” Izuku put his hands on his chest.
“Nope. Don’t got any of that shit anymore. No appetite, no heartbeat, no nothing.”
Wait. That couldn’t be right.
In the bathroom the night before, when Izuku was crying, (which he was still incredibly embarrassed about; he’d cried so hard he’d started dry heaving! That was not a good first impression after eight years!) he’d heard Katsuki’s heartbeat.
“Really?”
Katsuki hummed.
”I swore I thought I heard your heart beat in the bathroom last night.”
The blonde’s ears turned a bright pink, and Izuku decided not to mention it. He’d file that information away for later—his friend was lying to him. He would figure out why later.
”You’re hearing things.”
Yeah, scratch that. He had time to figure out why now.
”Why are you lying to me?”
”What?! I’m not fucking lying you dumbass!” Katsuki jumped up, his fingers curling in and out at his sides. No sparks flew, yet again, which made something in Izuku’s chest hurt.
“Your ears are all pink, that means you’re embarrassed or lying.” Izuku sat up pointing at his right ear and swinging his legs over the side of the couch. He couldn’t rip his eyes away from Katsuki’s hands. “Kacchan, I’ve known you since we were four. Don’t think you can mess with me like that.”
Something changed in Katsuki’s eyes, and his hand came up to rest on his chest. He almost looked…afraid?
Kacchan was never afraid, not really. If he ever was, he masked it very very well. So what had happened that spooked him so bad?
”Kacchan? What happened?”
The blonde boy’s fingers shook as he took heavy breaths to calm his anger.
”It’s…it’s a new thing,” he muttered, swallowing his pride for a few seconds to explain himself. (Why was he doing that?) “I haven’t had a heartbeat in a long time, and now, just last night…” He scoffed and sat back down, his ears reddening further. “Just drop it, dumbass.”
That was the Katsuki he knew. Avoiding his issues by lashing out, or tucking them all in a neat little box and shoving them into the closet.
He would respect it, though. He wouldn’t pry this time. He tried once, and clearly it was a sensitive topic, so he would do as his friend said.
”Okay. I’m sorry.”
Katsuki hesitated, returning to his original position. “‘S fine, nerd. Choose a better question next time.” His hand still lingered around his chest, tracing his collarbone absently.
“Okay…” Izuku laid back down with a thump. “How are you touching the couch right now?”
”Mmmm…I think it’s something that has to do with the walls, if that makes any sense.”
Izuku nodded along, turning his head to look at the weirdly concentrated Katsuki.
“I know that there’s a surface there, so I don’t phase through it. It’s fucking stupid and confusing as hell.”
Izuku hummed. “Do you think if you didn’t know there was a wall there, you would fall through? Like, if you were running from a villain or whatever, and you ran into something, would you not register it as solid? And why doesn’t that work for material objects? Shouldn’t you be able to pick up, say, a brush, if you really concentrated on making it solid?”
“Stop yapping, nerd!”
Izuku winced. “Sorry, sorry!”
Katsuki’s ears were even redder than before. Izuku wasn’t sure why; had he done something? Was his muttering pissing Katsuki off that much?
“Fuck if I know,” Katsuki began, snapping Izuku out of his thoughts, “One, It’s probably the same concept as my feet touching the floor. Two, how the hell am I supposed to test that shit out, Deku? If I’m doing the test in the first place, I know there’s a fucking wall where I’m at!”
Izuku put a hand over his eyes, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah, I suppose that would be pretty hard. Sorry Kacchan.”
“‘S fine, ‘zuku, stop fucking apologizing for stupid shit.” He mumbled, his hand falling into his lap. “As for the objects,” he continued his answer from before, “I’ve tried more times than I can count to pick things up or even nudge them, but it’s only worked like…twice, in the entire eight years I’ve been dead.”
Izuku made a little ‘wow’ noise, looking up at the ceiling. “Only twice, huh.”
”That’s what I fucking said, or are you the hard of hearing one now?”
Izuku sat up and looked down at his friend, a renewed curiosity blazing in his eyes. “Oh! How are your hearing aids? Do they need batteries still, or do they just work? Do you have, like, ghost batteries or something? Do you even need them anymore? Did your hearing get better when you, uh…did whatever it is you did to look older?” He leaned on his bent arm to keep him up.
A small smirk popped up on Katsuki’s face. “Holy fuck, Izuku, what did I just say? Stop. Fucking. Yapping.”
Izuku’s hands flew up to his mouth, his body quickly steadying itself after the loss of the support of his elbow. ”Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I swear, I didn’t even realize I was—“
Katsuki made a frustrated noise and ran his hands through his hair. “Izuku, cut it out! Stop fucking apologizing, you know I’m just antagonizing you, so you literally have nothing to be sorry for!”
Izuku paused, his eyebrows pinching together.
What?
”But…I don’t know that.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “You were joking?”
Katsuki seemed to pale, a hand coming up to his chest again. He slowly turned his head towards Izuku. “‘’Zuku, did you really think I was pissed?”
Izuku nodded hesitantly. “Yeah. You’re always pissed, so I guess I thought…I guess I thought that you were mad at me.”
Katsuki’s expression softened, which tugged at something in Izuku’s chest. Right under his ribcage, something shot up and into his veins. Fear.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Izuku shot upwards from his relaxed sitting position, sitting straight up now. He waved his hands around frantically. “No, no no no! It’s fine! I’m used to it! Don’t even worry about it!”
”No, Izuku, you shouldn’t be used to it!” Katsuki stood up again, seething. “I had no right to treat you like that ever, so stop pretending like it’s fucking fine! Let me fucking apologize to you!”
Izuku made sure to note Katsuki’s immediate jump to their past.
“Seriously, Kacchan, it’s okay! I don’t mind it at all!” Izuku tensed, the fear shooting up into the middle of his chest.
”No! You fucking listen to me right now, asshole, I will apologize every single day of your fucking life if that is what it takes for you to accept even one of my shitty ass apologies. I was being a jerk, I know I was being a jerk, that’s how I fucking am, but that doesn’t mean my jerkiness doesn’t affect other people! So just accept that I was wrong and say ‘okay, I accept your apology’ or whatever bullshit you decide to say and be done with it!”
Something in that rant made Izuku pause. Not just the fact that Katsuki was apologizing again, (he’d been doing that an awful lot since he ran off from Yuuei, so it was a given he would be doing it now), but the fact that he’d said Izuku’s life, and not his, gave him pause.
”Why not your life?” Izuku cursed at himself as the words left his mouth. He knew why not his life: he wasn’t living anymore. It was a stupid thing to question.
“Goddamnit Izuku! Again with the topic switching! Say you accept my apology or whatever and I’ll answer your fucking question.”
“Okay, okay, I accept your apology, now why not your life?”
Katsuki roared in frustration, turning around in a circle and then facing Izuku again. “You have to mean it!”
Izuku laughed, a light sound despite the heavy thumping of his heart in his chest. Why was his heart beating so fast?
”I do mean it, I swear on my life!”
Katsuki hesitated, and then sat back down. “Okay, good. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
“Mmmm…I dunno…” Izuku smirked and laid back down. “Now, my question, please.”
Katsuki scoffed. “Fine. Not my life because one, I’m not alive, and two, I’ll probably be around a lot longer than you, if this keeps going the way it’s going. So, hence the rest of your life, and not mine.” He muttered something under his breath, but Izuku didn’t quite catch what he said.
Hm.
Izuku settled into the couch again, his face scrunching. He’d ask about it later, maybe. Kacchan was allowed to have his secrets…for now. “Well, what if I end up with you? When I die, I mean.”
Katsuki seemed to pause, taking a moment to debate the statement. “…I didn’t think about that.” His voice was quiet; pensive, even. He spoke even lower this time around, almost a whisper. “I hope we don’t find out any time soon.”
Izuku leaned forward, leaning back on his arms. “Hmm? What was that? Does the great Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight really care about me?”
Katsuki groaned, slumping back against the couch. “Oh, fuck you too! Stop fucking switching up on me, we were having a moment!”
Izuku giggled. “Oh, were we now?”
“Fuck you.”
”You can try.”
Katsuki scoffed, his ears turning red again. A smirk graced his lips, and he craned his head to look smugly at Izuku. “What the hell is up with you and sex jokes lately? There something you need to tell me, ‘zuku?”
Izuku screeched and jumped back towards the armrest, his face turning tomato red. “I was just—I don’t even—What?! You’re my best friend, I don’t—” Izuku trailed off, his words clogging his throat and his brain at how fast the thoughts were being fired off.
Katsuki tsk’ed and turned his head to face forward again. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it yourself, idiot. I was fucking with you.”
Izuku deflated, his cheeks buzzing and hot. “Right, yeah, of course. Totally.” He stood up quickly, trying to ignore the blanket of lightheadedness that washed over him as he did so, and reached for his phone. He needed to get out of this situation before he dug himself a hole any deeper. Izuku glanced over at his bedside table, which was behind the couch off to the right (in his front line of vision) and an idea popped into his head.
“Well, I’ve got to, uh, make some calls, and update everyone on the situation! Yeah! I mean, I woke up to a bunch of unread texts and I bet Mr. Aizawa is worried sick and—“
Katsuki waved a hand in the air, grinning. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuckwad. Go do your thing, I’ll be here.”
Izuku shot him a hurried goodbye and an apology, grabbed his phone, and dawdled off to the middle of the living room.
Oh, man, he was so fucked.
Notes:
Chapter title is from Stranger in You by Ebril (despite this chapter NOT being inspired by the song itself! ironic innit)
the boys are having big big thoughts and their big big brains aren’t big enough to handle them yet. stop fucking around guys you gotta get down to business.
also….happy 2,000 hits and 120 kudos AND 30 (public: i just learned this was a thing) bookmarks!! crazy shit. thank you guys for any and all interaction, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story! comments are highly appreciated, even if they’re just…like…the little hearts. i love those. they make me so happy.
Chapter 16: And You
Summary:
Spilling the beans to Aizawa.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“So, you’re telling me that you’ve been hearing voices, for the past seven days, and didn’t think to tell anyone?”
Izuku squirmed under his teacher’s harsh gaze. “Well, I told Uraraka…and possibly Kirishima…”
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed a heavy sigh. “Of course you did. And of course they wouldn’t tell me earlier.” He ran the aforementioned hand down his face. “Problem children, all of you.”
Izuku deflated, his face morphing into an embarrassed smile. “And there’s uhm…one more, teeny tiny itsy bitsy little thing.”
“What else could there be?” Aizawa’s voice was fully deadpan, and, from the looks of it, he was considering throttling the man for getting into so much trouble in the span of a week.
Izuku hesitated, fidgeting with his fingers under the table.
Aizawa arrived at Izuku’s apartment only moments after he shot him a text saying “Do you have time to talk?”.
Izuku had sent that message after realizing that walking around talking to Kacchan while no one else could see him or hear him would make for some vicious rumors within the media, (as well as within his group of friends), and he couldn’t really afford to take any risks in those departments.
Well…escaping the conversation with Kacchan was part of it, too, but shh!
Despite all of that, Izuku hadn’t actually thought about how he was going to broach the subject over text, let alone if Mr. Aizawa was actually there!
His teacher seemed peeved enough about him just hearing voices, not knowing it was because of the villain (but most likely having already connected the dots, if Izuku knew him at all), so Izuku wasn’t confident he would survive if he clued the man in about the full extent of the situation.
”Problem child, you’re muttering.”
Izuku stiffened, and both hands shot up to cover his mouth. “Sorry!”
Aizawa sighed again, letting his hands fall to the tabletop. “I won’t be mad, Midoriya. You can trust that no matter what is happening, I’ll be in your corner.” He paused. “Unless you’re engaging in something highly illegal and morally wrong. Then I have to take you down to the station.”
“Being as fucking annoying as you’ve been should be illegal! Tell ‘im to lock you up!”
Katsuki shouted from the living room, where he was laying on the floor staring at the ceiling absently. Izuku had asked him not to listen in, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped, given the poor layout of his apartment. (Though Kacchan could have turned off his hearing aids, if Izuku’s guess about how they worked was correct, but he figured the blonde was just being stubborn.) His flat was open floor space everywhere minus the hallway to the bathroom and supply closet, if you didn’t count the wall of the hallway blocking the kitchen from the living room. Though that probably counted as the former, didn’t it?
Whatever, didn’t matter.
He looked over his shoulder and shouted with a faux pout on his face. “Shut up, Kacchan!”
That gave Aizawa pause.
Crap.
“…Izuku. Explanation. Now.”
Izuku made a little ‘eek’ sound, then deflated like a little balloon. “Ah…ahahaha…that’s…a long story.”
His teacher crossed his arms and leaned back in his respective chair. “I’ve got time.”
Defeated, Izuku spoke. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”
Aizawa gave him an amused look, one eyebrow raised. “Who says I don’t already?”
A bark of laughter rang out from the living area.
Izuku chuckled anxiously, trying to ignore Katsuki as best he could. “Yeah, that tracks.”
A pause.
”Out with it, then.”
Izuku took a deep breath.
Here goes nothing.
“ThevillainfrombeforetotallytransferedsomekindofquirktomeandIthinkthat’sthereasonI’mhearingvoicesandalsoapparentlythevoicesaredeadpeoplewhichissoweirdandnowI’mseeingandhearingKacchanandit’ssoweirdbecausenowI’mnothearinganyothervoicesatall?AndIthinkthatit’sbecauseKacchanisherenowbutIdon’thaveanydefiniteproofthat’sthereasonotherthanthefactthatwhenItriedtotouchhimtheywentaway?It’ssoconfusingandI’msorryforbotheringyouandpleasedon’tthinkI’mcrazy.”
Aizawa blinked a few times, then let out a heavy sigh. “Kid. I did not understand a single word you just said. Slow down and try again.”
Izuku smiled, a red tint flushing his cheeks. “Sorry.”
”From the beginning.”
Another deep breath taken in by Izuku. “So, you know the villain that is uh…after me?”
Aizawa nodded slowly, leaning forward on his elbows. “Go on.”
”Well,” Izuku grimaced, “I’m pretty sure he transferred his quirk to me?”
His teacher’s lips pursed, and he looked significantly more exhausted than before. “And that’s why you’re hearing voices. But that doesn’t explai—“
”I’m not finished.” Izuku, after realizing what he’d done, covered his mouth with two hands. “Sorry!”
Aizawa raised his hand, then dropped it. “It’s fine, Midoriya, I jumped to conclusions. Please continue.”
Izuku took a breath, and did as he was asked. “For starters, there are quirks that exist that allow their users to see things differently than other people, or so I’ve found. Thermal vision, X-RAY vision, et cetera.”
Aizawa nodded along with Izuku’s words, all the while urging him to continue.
”There are theories out there that, when someone dies,” Aizawa’s state deteriorated further, and Izuku winced internally, “their quirk factor, or at least a part of it, is left behind. ‘Energy cannot be created nor destroyed, it can only be transferred into another form’, said someone somewhere.” He paused to let the information soak in. “I believe that the quirk I supposedly, if my theory is correct, have now, is allowing me to hear those vestiges.”
”Just like within One For All,” Aizawa stated matter of factly.
That made Izuku’s heart skip a beat. It was so weird having people know about that, even after eight years.
”Yeah, like that. But in this case…I can only see one person.”
The black haired man groaned, putting a hand over his eyes. “Don’t tell me.”
Izuku grinned, eyebrows furrowed. “You know.”
”It’s Katsuki, isn’t it?”
Izuku nodded. “It’s Kacchan, yeah.”
Aizawa didn’t speak for a moment, seemingly mulling over the exhausting situation at hand. “Is he here now?”
Izuku glanced over into the living room, where Katsuki was just sort of laying on the floor still. “He never left.”
Aizawa dragged the hand down his face and glanced over Izuku’s shoulder. “I’m going to assume that’s him you’re looking at.”
Izuku nodded, looking back at his teacher. “He’s just kind of…laying there…in the middle of the floor. If you need a visual. Imagine those cheesy American movies where they toss the ball up and catch it, minus the ball and the catching, since he can’t touch anything.”
Aizawa snorted into his hand, which was covering his mouth now. “Sounds boring.”
”Hell yeah it is,” Katsuki shouted.
Izuku chuckled, then relayed the message. ”He says it is,”
Aizawa nodded, sat up, and crossed his arms. “So, you know I’m going to have to call Tsukauchi now, right?”
The green haired teacher sighed, looking down at the wooden table. “Yeah, I figured as much. Since my situation officially has to do with the villain now.”
Aizawa’s expression softened when he heard the discouraged lilt in his student's voice. “At least tell me you’ve been doing at least a little better than when I last saw you?”
Izuku nodded, glancing over at Katsuki again. He kept his voice low—he wasn’t sure if Katsuki would be able to hear him if he did, and that was kind of the goal. “He’s helped.”
Aizawa nodded, pulling out his phone and standing up. “Alright. I’m glad.” He gestured towards the door with his hand, palm up. “I’m going to step out for a moment to fill in Tsukauchi, and then I’ll come back to do a full check in. If that’s alright with you.”
“Yeah, it’s no problem at all. Knock and I’ll let you in again.”
His teacher nodded and made his way out, shutting the door gently behind him, and Izuku audibly exhaled.
Katsuki rolled his head to the side to look at Izuku. “That bad, huh.”
Izuku nodded. “I thought he was gonna have my head.”
The blonde scoffed and rolled his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Idiot. We all know that he’s actually a big fucking softie at this point, you’re being paranoid for no goddamn reason.”
Izuku smiled down at the table, chuckling defeatedly to himself. “Yeah, it seems that way.”
There was a stretch of silence between the two boys, neither one saying anything to fill it until Katsuki let out a heavy, frustrated, exasperated sigh directed at the ceiling.
“Nerd, I can practically hear the gears turning in that big ass head of yours. What the hell is on your mind now?”
Izuku hesitated before he eventually spoke. “I’m a little scared, if I’m being honest.”
Katsuki turned his head to face Izuku again. “Of what? That fucking villain? You could kick his shrimpy ass in all of five minutes if he escaped.”
Izuku momentarily paled, turning to look at Katsuki in his chair. “Ah, I didn’t realize you knew about that.”
”’Course I do,” Katsuki muttered, “Like you said. I never left.”
“Mm.” Izuku stared off into space for a few moments, debating…well… everything. All of the shit that had been happening that past week, everything that could happen in the future…he was terrified. There were so many possibilities that he couldn’t account for, and—
“Spit it out, ‘zuku.”
Right. Kacchan was there too.
Izuku turned to face the table again, running his hands down his face. “It’s nothing, and Aizawa Sensei will be back soon anyway, so we should probably stop talking about this before he knocks and I have to let him in.”
Katsuki abruptly sat up, leaning on one of his hands. “The fuck you mean ‘it’s nothing’? I’ve known you since you were fucking four,” Katsuki quoted Izuku, (albeit with a few added cuss words), “Don’t think your shitty ass can fucking mess with me like that.”
Izuku slumped in his chair, letting out a defeated sigh before leaning forward on his arms, head in his hands. “I just…I can’t help but feel like this isn’t it. Like there’s something more to this whole situation, and we just haven’t realized what it is yet.”
Katsuki’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. ”You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Izuku shut his eyes. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Katsuki didn’t speak for a moment, debating his next words carefully. “Whatever happens, you’ll kick its ass. I have no fucking doubt about that.”
Izuku smiled weakly into his hands. It was still so weird hearing Kacchan compliment him. “Thanks, Kacchan. It means a lot.”
Katsuki turned his head to face the ceiling again. “It’s just the truth, don’t be getting all sappy on me now. I was starting to like your sass.”
Izuku laughed, sitting up all the way and glancing over at the blonde haired boy. “Oh, really? Good to know.”
Katsuki barked out a laugh. “See? There you go. Sass master nine-fucking-thousand over here.”
”Oh, shut up!” Izuku whined, a grin spreading his lips wide. “I didn’t even mean to do it that time!”
Katsuki sat up all the way, his arms straight at his sides and his hands flat on the ground. ”Oh yes the hell you did! Do you not hear yourself when you’re fucking yapping? The amount of sauce you put on that ‘Oh, really?’ just then was absolutely fucking unacceptable.”
Izuku snorted. “Oh, real mature, Kacchan, calling me out on something you just said you liked. So what if I had done that on purpose? What if I was just trying to make you happy, huh? What then?” He beamed as he taunted Katsuki, leaning his arm over the backboard of the chair.
”Then you’re a fucking people-pleasing loser and it doesn’t count for shit!”
”Why wouldn’t it count?!” Izuku shouted alongside Katsuki, smiling even harder now.
”Because it wasn’t fucking genuine! It’s only fucking funny if you actually mean it!” Katsuki held his hands out in front of him, a manic grin on his face.
“Fine, do you want me to try again?”
”What? No! You ruined it now, I hope you’re fucking happy!”
Izuku put a faux pout on his face and slumped back in the chair. “Fine.”
”Fine.” Katsuki laid back down with a thump, and the two boys didn’t speak any more.
Until Izuku did.
”Last word.”
Katsuki jetted upwards. ”Oh, fuck y—“
Knock, knock, knock.
Izuku put on a cheery voice for his teacher, lathering honey over his previously snarky tone to, in part, tease Katsuki, and partially to keep up impressions with his teacher. (In reality, he meant “not piss his teacher off and get killed in his sleep”, but same difference.)
“Coming, Mr. Aizawa!” He stood up from his chair, eyeing Katsuki with a look that said “shut-up-or-i’ll-throttle-you” (and earning a well deserved glare, but, surprisingly, receiving no pushback), before opening the door to see his teacher, scarf and all, standing behind it with his hands in his pockets and a look that told stories of hours of sleep lost over the two problem children in the apartment right then.
“Tsukauchi wants to talk to you.”
He paused, sighing with an exasperation only known by Aizawa himself before continuing.
“Both of you.”
Notes:
Chapter title is from Hours Were The Birds by Adrianne Lenker.
aizawa is so fucking done with their shit. this whole chapter is izuku just straight up withholding information and then giving up and telling them. LOSER
also happy 40k words possibly maybe!!!
next chapter MAY be a little late, i have some commitments to attend to this week. i’ll de deleting this portion of the end notes if uh i end up getting it done anyway!
Chapter 17: I Won’t Let Go of Your Hand
Summary:
Izuku’s situation is officially in the hands of the law. And it’s entirely possible that his hands ended up somewehere important too.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The déjà vu that Izuku was experiencing that afternoon was something out of a nostalgic’s best-worst nightmare.
Sitting in the police station, Tsukauchi holding a mug of coffee, Aizawa sitting (now diagonally from him, since Katsuki had claimed the chair directly beside him) with an exhausted look on his face. It was all so similar to the last time Izuku had been there that it made his head hurt.
Except this time, Tsukauchi looked like he was going to throttle him. And maybe Aizawa too.
”Midoriya…” The detective sighed, covering his eyes with his hand and leaning towards the conference table they were all sitting around. “I’m legally required to tell you that my quirk is always activated, as you know. My quirk is Lie Detector, which means that I will know whether or not you’re lying to me when you speak. Do you consent to this information-gathering session being recorded, and can you confirm that you understand how my quirk functions?”
As much as Izuku would have loved to keep the information he was about to give semi-private, he knew how integral it may be to the case. And he’d worked with Tsukauchi previously, so he knew his quirk pretty well. Or so he thought.
So, Izuku nodded.
”I need you to say it out loud, Midoriya.”
”Oh, sorry!” Izuku’s face flushed a light pink. “Yes, I consent to this meeting being recorded, and yes, I understand how your quirk works.”
Tsukauchi’s face darkened slightly with exhaustion. “Does Bakugou?”
Izuku turned his head to look at the man in question.
“‘Course I do. His quirk ain’t that hard to understand, and what kind of idiot says no to a detective asking if he can do his fucking job?” Katsuki barked, rolling his head to glare at Izuku.
”Mmmm…Criminals, probably,” Izuku chirped, tilting his head to the side.
Aizawa glanced over at the two of them (albeit not seeing Katsuki, more so just believing he was there). “Midoriya, we can’t hear him.”
The green haired boy’s face flushed further, darkening to a pink slightly redder than before. “Right. He says, uhm…” Izuku hesitates. How was this going to work again? “Do I have to repeat exactly what he said?”
Another heavy sigh from Tsukauchi. “Just tell us whether he said yes or no, please. Since my quirk presumably will not work on him or his information that you relay—due to the fact that my quirk is based on the user’s opinion on the information they’re giving, and since I most likely will not be able to use my quirk directly on Bakugou himself, the information he gives will be affected by your opinion; we really just need consent to use his information and his likeness.”
“That makes sense,” Izuku agreed. “He says yes.”
Tsukauchi nodded, and gestured to a small black box. “This device on the table, as you are very familiar with I presume, works by pressing this,” He pointed to a small button on the corner of the box, “little button to turn it on and off. There will be a little red light that signals the status of its recording. Can you confirm that you understand how this device works?”
Izuku nodded, as did Katsuki (once prompted by a look from Izuku). “I can, and Kacchan confirms the same.”
The detective clicked on the little button, and Izuku tensed when the small, blinking red light came on.
”This is Detective Tsukauchi, the current date is XX, XX, XXXX. The people in the interrogation room at the moment are witness, informant, and victim, Midoriya Izuku, who is being interrogated currently about a possible lead on the case of Kodama Seihachi; Pro Hero: Eraserhead, here for support and investment in the case, and Bakugou Katsuki, supposedly present as a result of an effect of a quirk, working as an informant in the given moment. We will be touching on that this session.”
Izuku made sure to note the use of his teacher’s hero name in place of his civilian name. Probably to keep the identities separate, he presumed.
Tsukauchi continued.
”Midoriya, when you answer my or Eraser’s questions, I will be confirming whether you are telling the truth or not out loud.”
”Okay.” Izuku took a deep breath in, and out. Was he in trouble? It was starting to feel like he was in trouble.
”You’re gonna be fine, nerd. Stop freaking out.” As if reading his mind (could he do that?), Katsuki attempted to comfort his friend in his usual brash manner, but it, surprisingly, actually helped a little bit. Izuku didn’t respond in fear of messing up the interrogation somehow, but did shoot Katsuki a grateful glance.
”Tell me what you know of and what you experienced on the night Kodama was apprehended to the best of your ability, please. Just to create a foundation for the rest of this interview.”
Izuku thought for a moment, trying to recall the exact events of the night.
“No, no, no, no, NO!! This isn’t how it was supposed to go; you don’t understand! Please, let me go, I swear, I’ll be good!”
“Well, I remember that me and the rest of the pro heroes arrived on the scene just after the perpetrator was apprehended.”
Tsukauchi nodded, taking a note in a little notepad he had pulled out of his jacket pocket. “Truth.”
“You told me about the charges against Kodama when I approached you, and the fact that every name he’d given when prompted was someone deceased. I then theorized about what his quirk and motives may be.”
”Truth.”
“When I had all of the information I needed, I took off my hero suit and started on the walk home. The rest of the heroes had already left the scene, for the most part.”
”Truth.”
”I looked down at my phone to check my unread messages, and that’s when the villain grabbed me by the neck.” Izuku dragged his fingertips along the spot on the back of his neck where he’d felt the perpetrator’s hand.
“Found you.”
A chill went up Izuku’s spine. “His skin was really cold, like he’d just stuck it in freezing water. The feeling shot through my fingertips and down my back, and I initially thought he’d injected me with something.”
The detective’s and Aizawa’s lips thinned and their eyebrows furrowed. “Truth…”
“He said ‘Found you’, which was pretty concerning to me at the time—it’s still concerning to me now, believe it or not.”
Katsuki’s brow furrowed.
“We discussed all of this already the next morning at the station, but you need me to repeat everything for the recorder, correct?” Izuku questioned.
Tsukauchi nodded and clarified. “That is correct. And all of your other statements were true.”
Izuku opened his mouth to speak again, when he was interrupted.
”’Zuku.”
Izuku glanced over at the sound of the gruff blonde’s voice. “Hm?”
Tsukauchi and Aizawa shared a confused look.
Katsuki shifted uncomfortably in his chair, crossing his arms over his pecs and leaning back. “That guy…Kodama, they said. I’d seen him before he grabbed you.”
Izuku’s expression pinched in confusion. “Where? How? I thought you…” He paled.
Aizawa cleared his throat, and Izuku held up a finger to tell him to wait just a moment.
”He’s been around for a few weeks…maybe longer, I don’t fucking know. Creeped me the fuck out.” Katsuki shot Izuku a semi-worried, more angry than anything, look. “I thought it was…fuck.” Katsuki growled, leaning back in his chair further (his shoulderblades over the backboard of the chair, the plastic going underneath them) and running his fingers through his hair. “I thought it was nothing! Just some freakish fanboy or something, but…FUCK!”
Izuku’s heart rate picked up speed, and his expression softened. “There was nothing you could have done, Kacchan. You know that.”
Aizawa cleared his throat again. “Midoriya.”
Izuku turned his head (albeit with a hesitant look in his eyes: he wanted to help Kacchan work through this right then, but there was work to be done) to look at the detective and his teacher. “Kacchan says he’d seen the perpetrator before all of this.”
Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow. “And…?” He didn’t confirm whether it was true quite yet.
Izuku blinked, slowly realizing that the detective probably had no idea what that meant to the case. From his point of view, Katsuki had just been…well. He didn’t really know anything, did he?
He took a breath. “Kacchan…hasn’t really left my side. Since he died, anyway.”
Aizawa’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “So you meant what you said literally, then.”
”Mean wh—“ Izuku paused. “Oh.”
“He never left.”
A light flush of pink came back to Izuku’s cheeks. “Yeah, sorry. I should’ve elaborated on that.
”It’s fine, Problem Child.”
In the silence that followed, Tsukauchi spoke again. “So, what you’re saying is that if Bakugou saw the villain, that means he was near you, correct?”
Izuku nodded. “Correct.”
Tsukauchi nodded as well, with a more worried twinge to his expression. “True. All statements have proven true thus far,” he muttered above and into the recorder.
Izuku glanced over at Katsuki, who wasn’t leaning back anymore, but clearly stewing in what almost looked like guilt.
“Kacchan,” Izuku prompted, which broke Katsuki out of his racing thoughts.
”Hm?”
”When did you see him? How many times?”
Katsuki thought for a moment, gazing directly past Tsukauchi’s shoulders. “Handful of times over the past month or so. He usually just stalked around in the background looking suspicous as fuck, sometimes it looked like he was staging a coincidence. Like, ‘fancy seeing you here’ type bullshit, but he never actually talked to you. Made him look like a complete fucking idiot.” Katsuki sighed. “The most recent time I saw him before he grabbed you was when you were walking home from that stupid reunion.”
A shudder ran down Izuku’s back. “So I was being watched,” he muttered, blanching significantly. “By someone other than you, I mean. I…I only saw your eyes when I left the restaurant because it felt like someone was watching me, but I just sort of figured it was nothing after I saw that! Any normal person would jump to that conclusion pretty quickly, given seeing things that aren’t there isn’t normal, therefore offsetting the “being-watched” feeling…But, now that I think about it, it could have just been a coincidence that I just so happened to see you, and that feeling was actually because of him? Oh, god, he could have followed me home, and…” Izuku broke off into a muttering storm, feeling increasingly more sick to his stomach with every revelation.
Why was he following him? Was it his entire intention to pass on his quirk to him in specific? Did he not just know where his office was, but where he lived?
His quirk-transfer theory just kept getting more and more plausible.
”Kid,” Tsukauchi practically barked, but it wasn’t aggressive: it was more worried than Katsuki’s usual tone. “What’s going on?”
Izuku trailed off and turned his head to look back at Tsukauchi. “Kacchan says that…that he, Kodama, has been following me around over the past month or so. That he just figured that the guy was just a stalkerish fanboy, given my…reputation, and that he popped up in the background most of the time.” He paused. “And I think I might know why.
Tsukauchi nodded. “Please elaborate on that, Midoriya.”
Izuku’s fingers twisted around each other anxiously, and Katsuki phased his hand through Izuku’s knee in an attempt to comfort him. He frowned and pulled away when his hand didn’t just rest atop his pants like he wanted, but, with the wave of calm that came over him at the action, Izuku subtly gestured with his hand under the table for Katsuki to bring it back. The blonde glanced back down and grinned: softer than he usually did, but with a shine to it that made it distinctly Katsuki’s. His hand migrated back to his knee, and he phased it through just enough that it looked like his hand was on top of it. (Though Izuku wasn’t sure why he didn’t just phase it all the way through; maybe it felt weird for him to do that?)
Izuku let his hand fall to his knee to phase through Katsuki’s, trying to ignore the stir in his…gut…at the gesture.
Wait, what?!
Crap, focus, Izuku! You can panic about that later!
“I told Eraserhead,” His voice came out strained due to the frenzied thoughts swimming through his head. Izuku cringed internally using his teacher’s hero name rather than ‘Mr Aizawa’ or ‘Aizawa Sensei’, when the man had so persistently told them to not call him that outside of work. This counted as outside of work, right? “My theory earlier, and I’ll tell it to you now.”
Izuku took a less shaky breath, trying to focus on the heavy, cool feeling of his companion’s hand in his (literally) rather than the warmth in his cheeks.
”The villain told you that he was quirkless. I believe that statement is entirely true, but only because he transferred his quirk to me when he grabbed my neck.” He paused to let the information soak in. Tsukauchi muttered a ‘true’ before Izuku spoke again. “One For All could be transferred forcibly, as I demonstrated with…” He hesitated on the boy’s name. “Tenko. As I demonstrated on Tenko.”
Aizawa’s expression softened with understanding.
Izuku continued after taking a deep breath. “All Might had initially described it as a girl forcing a box of chocolates onto her unwilling crush, and even though it’s kind of unconventional and a little weird, it works here. Kodama could very well have had a quirk that could do the same thing, somehow. I wouldn’t be surprised if people who had it before him gave it away on purpose, too. It clearly drove him mad, and I’m still not entirely sure how I made it out of that fate myself.” Izuku looked off to the side for a moment. He was so lucky he didn’t go crazy. If that’d happened, he wouldn’t have been able to see Kacchan again. Or, at least, not with a clear head.
After a moment of contemplation and a gesture from Tsukauchi, he continued.
“There are quirks out there that allow the user to see things in a different way than the average person, or see things that the average person doesn’t see at all. Seeing different planes of color, X-RAY vision, infrared vision, et cetera are good examples of it demonstrated in existing forms. And there are theories out there that, when a person with a quirk factor dies, some of their energy is left behind due to the “energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transferred to another form” statement. It’s entirely possible that, if this theory is true, there could be a quirk that exists that allows a person to access those vestiges.”
“All true,” Tsukauchi nodded along, taking notes as he went.
”He was most likely following me in specific to transfer his quirk to me with no one around—he wanted to get to know my routes, my habits, my routines…” Izuku’s mouth went dry. “But the reason for the latter…I have no idea. Maybe he was something along the lines of a stain idealist, except for Tenko? In the interview, he said that I needed to understand what it means to really suffer in response to you asking him ‘why me’, right?”
Tsukauchi nodded. “He did, and I have the conversation on record as well if you need it,” he turned to look at Aizawa, “Eraserhead.”
The man nodded. “Thank you.”
Izuku rubbed his face with his hand. “He probably just wanted to get some sick sort of revenge on me for defeating his idol in the form of passing his suffering onto me.”
Aizawa sighed, sinking farther into his chair. “It’s a valid theory.”
Tsukauchi nodded in response. “Eraser, you got any information that could help us out here? I know you’ve been doing research outside of your usual hours at Yuuei and patrol work, so if you’ve got anything at all that could help tie things together into a prosecutable case, it’d come in handy.”
”Mmm… all I got was…”
The familiar voices faded into the background as Izuku’s hand fell back down to his lap: he’d made sure to use his free one instead of the one Katsuki was “holding”, and the green haired teacher couldn’t help but find his head filled with thoughts of pure, unfiltered panic.
The feeling of Katsuki’s cold, (not dead, not dead, not dead) hand in his did little to steady him now.
Was he going to be okay? Were they going to be okay? What if Kacchan blamed himself for all of this now?
Was this going to be nothing, or would it be the end of his life altogether?
And the conclusion Izuku came to shook him to his very core.
He didn’t know.
Notes:
Chapter title is from i won’t let go of your hand by Adrianne Lenker.
yeah….definitely a late chapter. (But only by a day!!!!)
You may notice that there has been a small edit to a passing statement in chapter 14. I, after much consideration, realized I left a very important point too vague. There were so many very incorrect ways to interpret it and one wrong theory about it could bring this story off the rails!! So, I updated it. Apologies for my…indecisiveness…regarding the path of that plot point. All is well now.
and guess who ALSO forgot that kirishima knows. totally not me guys. that is also fixed now.
and, to finish off this endnote, I love torturing you guys with random hints at the boys exhibiting feelings in ways that cannot be perceived as platonic in any way shape or form and then just disregarding it until later. it’s my favorite pastime.
Chapter 18: I’m One More Day Away
Summary:
Good news all around and haircuts. Haircuts with so much tension you can cut it with a butter knife.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Midoriya.”
Izuku snapped back to reality at the sound of the detective's voice; he’d very quickly zoned out on the table while Aizawa and Tsukauchi discussed the knowledge they had in comparison to his theory (and the extra information regarding his current status on the whole debacle that Izuku had hesitantly provided, though Aizawa had most likely filled Tsukauchi in over the phone on the majority of it from what it sounded like so far).
Izuku had a feeling they knew that, though.
”Yeah?” His voice was shaky with worry.
Tsukauchi’s eyes softened. “Your theory is entirely plausible, and likely the reason why he targeted you in specific. Given that fact, it’s also highly concerning.”
Izuku tensed.
“I fully believe that you are under the influence of a quirk. And, thanks to your extensive research, though I cannot confirm it, I have little doubt that it wasn’t just activated on you, it was transferred. Just as you’ve said. All of the information lines up, and I have no reason not to believe you.”
He already knew that. What did it mean for his career? His teaching? His hero work?
The guy was already in prison, convicted for multiple other charges along with the ones he’d earned attacking Izuku, but what did this quirk mean for the rest of his life?
To any person on the outside looking in, it might’ve seemed like the obvious opinion was that he wanted to get rid of it as quickly as possible.
But Izuku didn’t want that.
He couldn’t lose Kacchan again.
He’d promised he wouldn’t leave him, and Izuku didn’t want him to break that promise. Not now, not ever.
Izuku was more worried about whether they'd let him keep it. Let him go back to doing everything the same way he’d done things before, let him live a normal life, let him do all of that, except with Kacchan back by his side.
”Despite that,” Tsukauchi’s voice gradually faded back into Izuku’s ears, “we believe you should be okay to continue as you’ve been, albeit with significantly more monitoring than before.”
Relief flooded Izuku’s system, and Tsukauchi continued speaking.
“Eraser and I will be sure to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, but from what he and I have gathered from what exists of Kodama’s files, previous affiliations, and family history, we believe that you’re in no danger as of right now of being targeted again.” Tsukauchi paused. “You mentioned that you’re not hearing these voices constantly anymore to Eraser, correct?”
”I did.” Tears pricked at the edges of Izuku’s vision.
”Then it shouldn’t interfere with your work, as long as you can get Bakugou to behave,” Aizawa added. “That is, assuming he stays.”
Izuku’s expression dampened significantly.
Right.
Would he even want to stay now that Izuku could see him? What if he was just there for the show? Did Izuku being able to talk to him change things?
His breath caught in his throat.
He hadn’t even begun to think about it, assuming everything would be fine. But it’d been eight years since they last saw each other, and even if things seemed fine now, maybe in a few days they wouldn’t be. Things had clearly changed between them, and Izuku wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk about it out loud yet (or ever), but their dynamic had absolutely shifted since high school.
Did he even want to be friends anymore?
“I’m not fucking leaving, you idiot!” Katsuki blew up out of his chair, spooking Izuku into flinching upwards. “Why in the hell would any of you even think about that in the first place?! I already told you, dumbass, you won’t lose me again. Not if I can fucking help it. Not by choice. Never by choice,” he spat.
”Okay, okay Kacchan! I’m sorry!” Izuku stammered, tears threatening to spill over.
”You fucking better be,” Katsuki spat, sitting back down, spreading his legs and crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t break my fucking promise without a fight. Don’t you ever think otherwise.”
Izuku looked down at the floor bashfully, still incredibly anxious, but a little less so with that line of questioning cleared from his brain.
”I presume that was Bakugou giving you shit, yes?”
Katsuki cackled at his teacher’s not-really-a-question question, and Izuku nodded.
“Figures. Well, as long as he can handle himself accordingly, I trust that you’re competent enough to determine whether or not you’re fit to rejoin the Yuuei staff on Monday." Aizawa smiled. “Can’t have you slacking off on teaching the next generation of heroes, now can I?”
Izuku nodded quickly, fighting tears.
Katsuki scoffed and muttered an expletive under his breath, albeit smiling just as big as Izuku was.
Maybe he was worried about disappearing, too.
“But please,” Tsukauchi started, “If you ever need a break, if things get as bad as they did this week again, I don’t doubt your colleagues would be willing to sub in for you if you suddenly feel unfit to work. And if you feel that right now, I don’t think they would mind if that time came a little sooner.”
Izuku shook his head vehemently, tears sliding down and off his cheeks like a dog shaking water. “No, sir! I feel perfectly f-fine!”
”And,” Aizawa began with a hint of hesitance to his tone, “if you ever need another kind of break, I can always use my quirk on you for a little while.”
Izuku paled instantaneously upon the notion of Aizawa using his quirk on him.
Of watching Kacchan fade away before his very eyes...
”No!” He shouted all too quickly, his hands coming out in front of him. At the concerned stares of his teacher and the detective—alongside a mildly confused, almost relieved look from Katsuki (further proving his thought on his possible fear of disappearing, though Izuku hadn’t been entirely serious the first time, he certainly was now)—Izuku quickly straightened himself, attempting to persuade his heart to not beat out of his chest. “I’m okay, you don’t need to do that.”
A beat passed, no one talked, no one moved.
”I think, with that, we can end this investigation.” Tsukauchi took a quick look at his watch. “It is…a quarter to one.” After mumbling the time into the recorder, he clicked the button and the little red light emanating from the top faded to black.
”Thank you for coming down to the station, you two. The information you have provided is far from unhelpful. Aizawa can escort you out whenever you’re ready, if you’d like.”
Izuku swallowed, attempting to push down the red hot embarrassment creeping onto his cheeks and into his chest.
”Thank you,” Izuku stood and bowed. “I think we’ll be okay to head out on our own, if that’s alright.” He didn’t really want Aizawa to hear whatever they ended up talking about on the walk home.
Well, the walk to his home.
Unless Kacchan thought of Izuku’s apartment as his home, too.
It had been eight years, after all. Where else could he have been staying that was by Izuku’s side?
”Alright then. I hope you two have a good rest of your day.” A familiar voice interrupted Izuku’s train of thought. Tsukauchi, the owner of the voice in question, stood, as did Aizawa, and the two of them led the boys out of the room and into the main room of the police station.
Izuku turned to look at Katsuki on their way out, stopping just shy of exiting the front doors, the doors in question closing behind them as Izuku spoke. “Ready to go?”
The blonde scoffed. “Don’t got anything else to do, nerd.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
—
Katsuki was seething.
It was like someone had lit a fire under his skin and it was eating away at every nerve ending it could find.
Why the hell did the green haired dumbass think he was going to just…up and leave him?! Did Izuku really think that lowly of him?
He’d stayed by the fuckers side for eight entire years, with no one to talk to other than himself, with nothing to do but watch the nerd grow older and older and move on, and he stil thought that Katsuki wouldn’t even give him the time of day?
After debating it further…Maybe he deserved that. Just a little bit.
Katsuki frowned harder.
He was sitting down on the nerd’s bed with his elbows on his knees, watching the green haired idiot in question fiddle around with something in the bathroom. The door was cracked, and Katsuki knew better than to peek (he meant it when he said he wasn’t a creep!), but he figured it wasn’t anything private because the guy had practically obsessed over his privacy when he first knew Katsuki was there in the first place: he knew to close doors and keep quiet whenever he was doing something personal.
A different kind of heat lit under Katsuki’s cheeks.
He scoffed, looking away from the bathroom in favor of looking out the window.
Get your mind out of the gutter.
Katsuki immediately itched to reprimand himself, itched to explode something, for having such idiotic and indecent thoughts.
But he couldn’t.
Not when he couldn’t use his quirk.
It’d initially spooked him so bad he didn’t leave Izuku’s kitchen for days, begging his hands to glow, for that familiar heat to flare up his arms and burn whatever that sickening buzz under his ribcage was.
Katsuki didn’t particularly like having a heartbeat after so long without one. It was jarring, it was scary, it was unfamiliar, and it made him feel like he was dying all over again.
Though so many things had changed all at once when Katsuki died that he’d grown to become quite familiar with the unfamiliar.
Ironic, wasn’t it?
The buzz in his chest, the lack of a quirk, the scar tissue replacing the gash on his face, these thoughts about Izuku…
It was all unknown to him. Even after eight years.
Well…maybe not so much that last one.
Katsuki couldn’t keep his eyes off of the shuffling man in the bathroom, raising an eyebrow at the glint of scissors in the boy’s scarred, calloused hands.
”Nerd, where the hell did you get those?”
Izuku peeked out of the cracked door, kicking it open all the way with his bare foot. “Mr. Aizawa gave me back all my sharps, did you not see that?”
Katsuki furrowed his brow. Maybe he’d been distracted when that happened. “Nope. But now that I know,” he got up and walked into the bathroom, leaning against the wall behind Izuku with his arms crossed, “I’m supervising.”
”Ah,” Izuku mumbled, the same heat Katsuki had felt before rising onto his cheeks.
He tried not to think too much of it, especially with how close in proximity the two of them were.
The nerd’s bathroom wasn’t very big, and with the two boy’s older and larger statures, there wasn’t much room between Izuku’s back and Katsuki’s front, albeit the blonde was a little more diagonal from Izuku than just directly behind him.
”’Zuku. What the fuck are you doing?”
The man in question had his hand hovering around his head, scissors pointed at his overgrown green hair. ”Not sure where to start. I have to teach in two days…well, one day now, since today is almost over, and I want my hair to not look like crap when I go back to work.” He pouted further. “I usually get Kirishima to do it for me, since he’s the expert on hair, but I don’t want to bother him.”
Katsuki scoffed, but his fingers twitched with the urge to help. He knew he couldn’t, but the temptation to try was still there. “You fucking idiot. You should just call him, he won’t give a shit.”
Izuku whined, and Katsuki attempted to ignore the flutter in his chest.
“I can do it on my own, he doesn’t need me bothering him any more than I already have! I just need to figure out how much I want to cut off.”
”Tch, fucking fine then. Fuck up your hair, see if I care.”
Izuku frowned. “Kacchan is so mean.”
He scowled. “Don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you when you end up having to buzz it again.”
“That was for medical reasons and you know it.” Izuku went to take the scissors to a chunk of hair on top of his head, and Katsuki winced internally.
“You absolute dumbass, don’t fucking cut that!”
Izuku jerked upwards, screaming. “What the fuck Kacchan?!” He swung around to see the blonde laughing harder than he’d laughed in a really, really long time. His chest heaved with the force of his laughter, and tears flooded his waterline.
“Oh, oh my god, you said fuck Izuku!”
“Yeah, the hell I did! You almost made me give myself a bald spot!”
”Not my fucking fault you don’t know how to cut your own damn hair!”
Izuku’s expression pinched. “Fine, then you do it.”
Katsuki ceased his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes. “Like hell I will, I can’t even touch the damn scissors, let alone maneuver them.” He grinned snidely. “You’re on your own with this one, freckles.”
Izuku’s face flushed, and, momentarily, Katsuki wondered if he fucked up with that nickname.
“Well…maybe you could just…show me how?”
Katsuki furrowed his brow, then smiled again after debating the idea.
At least he would be doing something other than just watching him like a stalker for once.
“Not a bad fucking idea, nerd. Scoot.” Katsuki gestured with his hand for Izuku to move to the side a little bit so he could move into the view of the mirror. His reflection was warped, but there all the same. Phasing in and out of view like that fucking invisible girl in their class.
He presumed Izuku saw the same thing from the way his expression went slack-jawed.
”Not a big deal, nerd. Stop making it one.”
Izuku flushed further. “I-I mean, it’s just so cool, and…”
”Just let me help you cut your damn hair.”
The boy nodded dejectedly, and Katsuki scooted in towards Izuku’s face. He took his middle and index finger and placed it where he would place the scissors if he were cutting the nerds hair. The piece in particular he was looking at was near Izuku’s ear, curling in towards his face. “This chunk, lift it up and cut at this angle.”
Izuku obliged, but the subtle shudder that rattled through him didn’t go unnoticed by Katsuki. Green hair fell to the floor, and Katsuki grinned. “There you go. Finally listening to me for once, I see. Smart choice. Now, do this one.”
”So mean.”
Grinning cockily, Katsuki moved his hand to a strand near Izuku’s forehead that made his hair bulge outwards (with the help of many other similar strands, but it was a good starting point. Shitty Hair had directed him almost the exact same way when his hair had once grown so long his ears were no longer visible), his face impeccably close to Izuku’s.
Katsuki wasn’t sure if the green haired man could feel his breath on his face, but if he could, it was an awkward situation for them both.
Wasn’t his fault he didn’t have his glasses on.
(Though they were burning a hole in his pocket.)
And maybe, just maybe, it was a little on purpose. He could have grabbed them at any time, But Katsuki wouldn’t tell Izuku that, nor would he admit it to himself. He’d take the proximity wherever and whenever he could.
Izuku, in the process of the haircut, followed every instruction to a T, and Katsuki couldn’t help but feel a teensy weensy little bit proud of him.
By the time they were finished, Izuku was cool as a cucumber (and completely and utterly focused on the task at hand), Katsuki was basically a barber, and the green mop of hair that had originally been on the nerd’s head was down to a reasonable shape and amount.
Well, he was cool for a few moments after they finished. As soon as he snapped out of his haircut-induced concentration, he was flustered and jittery and the awkwardness that Katsuki had initially expected slammed into the two of them like a semi truck going a hundred in a school zone.
Izuku jumped away from Katsuki, muttering and waving his hands and thanking Katsuki for helping him, and the blonde’s faux heart jackrabbitted in his chest.
”Thank you for helping me out, really, I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble! I-it’s just…you were already here, and…”
“‘S no problem, nerd. Wouldn’t’ve had to help if you’d just fucking called Shitty Hair instead of being a wimp, though.”
Their faces had just been inches away from each other, and all Izuku could think about is how much trouble he caused him?
Katsuki would’ve blown the nerd up right then and there if he could.
Izuku laughed nervously, hands shaky as he put the scissors away and hunted down a broom and pan to sweep the excess green hair on the floor into. “Yeah, but it worked out in the end, didn’t it?”
Katsuki huffed, smiling. “I guess it did.”
Izuku made a little ‘aha!’ noise when he found a small broom set in the cupboard below his sink and started on cleanup.
Katsuki watched from his spot back against the wall as Izuku swept up each piece of hair into the metal pan, unable to keep his eyes off of the new haircut they’d just given him. It looked…normal.
That was unusual for the two of them these days.
Normal, he meant.
What he would give for this to be their new “normal.”
He wanted his friend back…and, as he had realized long ago, maybe he wanted a little more than that.
He wanted to be rivals again. He wanted Izuku to keep looking at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world, and he wanted everything to be okay between the two of them.
He wanted…He wanted Izuku to like him back.
It’d taken him over eight years to realize that, but, now that he knew what that stupid buzz under his skin and in his chest was, he wanted it more than anything.
But Izuku didn’t.
“You’re my best friend, I don’t…“
He couldn’t.
Katsuki wouldn’t allow it, not for one second. Not with everything he’d had done when he was young and stupid.
Izuku deserved better than that.
So, he would keep quiet.
He could settle to watch Izuku grow old a thousand times over if it meant getting to spend even one more measly minute by his side.
“Kacchan?”
Katsuki snapped back to reality at the sound of Izuku’s voice.
”You alright?”
Katsuki smiled, trying to mask the fondness in his voice (but failing miserably).
”Yeah, nerd. I’m okay.”
He had to be. After all, Izuku needed him.
And Katsuki needed him right back.
…
(Much more than he was willing to admit.)
Notes:
Chapter title is from my hope by ebril.
early ish chapter (literally by a few hours but i couldn’t wait to post it!!)
just as a reminder, I actively look forward to replying to comments. I will say, though, sometimes it can be a little challenging to come up with a response that isn’t just “thank you!!” (even though i totally mean it every time) to comments with nothing to respond to, so if i don’t reply, it’s not because i didn’t read your comment and didn’t absolutely squeal and kick my feet, it’s because i’m either lagging on the brain or your comment says all that needs to be said :3 (i.e “<3” and nothing else, which i love, but that’s a statement in itself baby! no need for me to go in there with more hearts unless you want me to ^^)
and for that one line you all know i’m talking about….
…heh. guess you could say he could….he could…stare at his back all day…
Chapter 19: How Much Longer ‘Till The Morning
Summary:
Where is Katsuki gonna sleep/not sleep, and can eye gouging be considered affectionate? ft. an introspective Katsuki
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed across his chest, watching Izuku panic about the situation at hand.
It was late, the green haired man’s hair was cut, and now he was rambling about something easily solved if he would just use some goddamn common sense for once.
”I mean, you shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor every night, and I totally don’t mind taking the couch until I can maybe afford another bed? If you want to stay here in the long run, that is! I won’t make you stay if you don’t want to, and if getting another bed seems too daunting or permanent I won’t do anything!”
Izuku paced in front of his bed, mumbling nonsense that irritated Katsuki to the core.
Why the hell was he even worrying about that? It was stupid, and if he would take one second to think, he could figure it out by himself.
But no. That wasn’t how the nerd functioned.
So Katsuki would entertain it for a while, just to push him towards figuring out the answer himself. (Which was to say Katsuki was just attempting to get Izuku to stop yammering and let him make decisions for himself.)
”Nerd,” he barked, “I can take the couch. Stop fucking panicking.”
Exasperated and stressed, Izuku fought back with a whine. ”But…You’re my guest! Guests don’t take the ratty, broken couch that I got at some yard sale an undetermined amount of years ago. That’s common courtesy.”
Katsuki scoffed. “Where the hell do you think I’ve been spending the night this whole time?”
Izuku’s words died on his tongue, and he paused his pacing. “Oh.”
”Yeah.”
Izuku turned to look at the blonde fully, a determined, semi-frustrated expression on his face.
“Well, that’s all the more reason to have you take the bed! Your back is probably shot after that!”
”I don’t even really fucking sleep, idiot! I just lay there and look at the ceiling the whole goddamn time!”
Izuku fumed. “It’s still not good for you to be lying on that thing all the time.”
Katsuki crossed his arms, fingers itching to spark. “Then I’ll take the fucking floor.”
Izuku groaned, running his hands through his hair. “That’s even worse!”
”Then what the fuck else am I supposed to do?!” Katsuki’s arms spread out and upwards in anger, palms facing up and towards Izuku.
Izuku put a hand on his chin and dragged it down his neck. “We’ve had sleepovers before, this shouldn’t be any different. Maybe we could uh…” As Izuku trailed off, his face flushed a light pink, and almost instantly, Katsuki knew what his next words were going to be.
”No.”
Izuku pouted, but it wasn’t a sad, dejected pout: it had a sort of fire to it. ”Why not?”
”Because…things are different now.” Katsuki’s voice lowered, and his hands made their way into his pockets.
“…In what way?” Now his voice was sad. His eyes, too. The combative flame that had been there moments before was snuffed and replaced with a look that could have been likened to an abandoned puppy in the rain.
Fuck.
“We’re not in high school anymore, ‘zuku. You’re twenty five. I’m…twenty five.” Katsuki hesitated on that last part. “‘Sides. It’s been eight years. I don’t know if you really know what you’re asking.”
Did all those years alone really count as aging, though? Even if his body had grown older, filled into new clothes in a way his younger body hadn’t, wounds having faded to deep purple or white scars, did that time really count for anything?
Sure, he’d had a lot of time to improve himself emotionally, but he wasn’t alive. It was all fake, in a way.
An elaborate illusion made to make him as comfortable as he could be in his skin for the rest of eternity.
“So? What does that mean, Kacchan? Sharing a bed doesn’t have to have the connotation you're giving it. And we’re still the same people we were back then, just…older, and more mature.”
Katsuki barked out a laugh. “More mature, eh?”
”Oh, shut up.”
”No, no, continue. I wanna see where this goes.”
”Nope, you lost me. Too bad, so sad, no more discussion.”
”Fine.”
”Fine.”
The two sat in silence for a beat until Izuku spoke up again.
”That still means you’re sleeping on the bed.”
Katsuki sighed. “You’re not gonna give this up, are you?”
”Nope.” Izuku popped the ‘p’ at the end of the word, trying his best to not look at least semi-entertained by Katsuki’s antics.
That wasn’t the answer he was hoping that Izuku would come to, but fucking whatever. Katsuki could tell that Izuku was overtired and his brain was moving way too fast, so he’d give in.
It was just so he didn’t annoy the shit out of him tomorrow: more than he already did, anyway.
That was it. Nothing more.
Katsuki’s lip curled upwards in a snarl, feigning frustration. “Fucking fine. Which side do you want me to take?”
Izuku thought for a moment, his breaths gradually evening. “Mmm…are you okay with taking the outside?”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Katsuki huffed.
Izuku nodded and yawned, eyeing the new outfit he had on. He’d swapped the flannel pants for All Might themed shorts, and his shirt (which was now covered in green hair and laying in wait for laundry day) for a piece of Froppy themed merchandise.
Izuku looked like a complete and total dork, but he didn’t really seem to care.
”Okay, bedtime,” Katsuki started suddenly (upon noticing the man’s quickly deteriorating state), walking up to the tired teacher and pointing to the bathroom. “Brush your damn teeth and go to sleep, it’s fucking late.”
Izuku almost protested, but ultimately decided against it (for whatever reason Katsuki was semi-unaware). ”Mghmm…fine.”
He walked off into the bathroom and flicked on the light, the sound of running water marking the beginning of the final steps of his nightly routine.
Katsuki had it completely memorized by now, in part because he was just always around, and in part because he didn’t want to end up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be or see something he wasn’t meant to see.
The routine went like this:
Step one, Dinner. That night, Izuku had stopped at a gas station on the way back from the station (far before the appropriate time to eat dinner) and got an onigiri to snack on (despite Katsuki’s objections and opinions on Izuku getting a healthy amount of food rather than the tiny, expensive-for-its-size onigiri. Izuku had just ignored him, pretending he wasn’t hearing the blonde the entire time he was talking to the cashier. It scared Katsuki shitless in a way that he hadn’t expected. Maybe being alone all those years had taken more of a toll on him than he thought.)
Step two, clean up any items left out around the flat and make sure he didn’t have any extra work to do (and if he did, spend way too long on it and push his routine to the wee hours of the morning).
Step three, A hot shower that steamed up the mirror and made the air in the apartment feel so sticky and thick even Katsuki could feel it clogging up his nonexistent lungs.
Step four, brush his teeth with a stupid Present Mic themed toothbrush in a Present Mic themed cup. (Again. He was a fucking dork.)
And finally, double check that all the doors and windows were locked (though on a hotter day he may leave a window or two open to prevent himself from steaming himself in his poorly insulated home), and head to bed, set his alarm, and make sure everyone knew he was alive before he went to sleep.
It was a consistent thing, though sometimes certain steps got extended or switched around or avoided entirely. The past few days had been chaotic, so the routine had been all but disregarded, but Katsuki knew that he would pop right back into it as soon as he could.
Though the blonde would try his damndest to get Izuku to stop working himself to death: that step was his least favorite.
Izuku stumbled out of the bathroom, rubbing his eyes and making his way towards the bed. After checking the windows groggily, he flopped down onto the mattress and stuffed himself under his thick All Might themed comforter, eyeing Katsuki with a tired but determined look.
”You too,” he said, reaching an arm up to pat the empty space on the bed to his right (and to any onlooker’s left).
“Fine.” Katsuki grumbled and walked over, lowering himself onto the bed and turning to his side. The blanket wouldn’t go over him if even he tried, so he opted not to even attempt it.
Izuku flipped as well, turning to face Katsuki with a fond look in his eyes.
”What would you think if I did some data collecting tomorrow? For my hero suit?”
Katsuki’s brows furrowed. ”That’s not fucking sleeping, ‘zuku.”
”Just give me an answer and I will.”
Katsuki grunted and rolled onto his back. “Do whatever you want, I’ll be there either way.”
”I mean…will you be able to keep up?”
Katsuki scoffed. “The fuck kind of question is that, dickwad? ‘Course I will, I’m Bakugou-Fucking-Katsuki. You’re gonna be on my heels if I’ve got any fucking say in it. Now go the fuck to sleep.”
Flipping back over, Katsuki phased two of his fingers—his index and middle—into Izuku’s eyes, grinning when Izuku squealed.
Izuku laughed, squirming and batting at his face with his hands. “Oh, that’s not nice! Ew, ew ew ew ew ew!”
He tried to pull back, but Katsuki just followed with a devilish grin on his face.
”That’s what bad Dekus get. You don’t listen, you get gouged. It’s a new rule I made up, like it?”
”Take them out!” Izuku squealed, laughing hysterically and clawing at his face with his hands.
Katsuki laughed, loud and bright. “Not until you swear you’ll go to sleep.”
”Okay, okay, okay, okay!”
”Say it.”
”I’ll go to sleep, I’ll go to sleep!”
Katsuki grinned, and, after wiggling his fingers in Izuku’s sockets, pulled them out and settled back into his original position on his side with his head in his hand.
”Good choice.”
Izuku giggled for a little bit longer and then calmed, smiling. “That was so weird, Kacchan. Never do that again. Ever.”
“Can’t promise jack squat. You’ve just gotta get better at listening to me, it seems. Tch. A shame.”
Izuku laughed, but it wasn’t as bright as before. Like there were words unspoken, or feelings unheard and unmentioned.
Katsuki’s grin dimmed into a concerned (in the most Katsuki way possible) look upon realizing that.
”You got something else to say, ‘zuku?”
Izuku hesitated, afraid to ruin the moment, then spoke, his green eyes locking with Katsuki’s. “Your quirk, Kacchan. That’s what I was really asking about.” He looked down at the sheets. “I’ll have my suit, but…you haven’t told me about the status of your quirk yet, and I assume that means you can’t use it.”
He paused, his expression dulling. “I don’t want to leave you behind.”
Katsuki’s lips thinned, and the fingers on the hand that wasn’t under his face twitched. “…Yeah. For the time being,” he started, watching Izuku’s face tense at the choice of words (he most likely realized Katsuki was only attempting to make him feel better about the whole thing: his quirk wasn’t coming back, even if he wished upon a star or whatever bullshit Izuku was likely to come up with), “I’m quirkless.”
Izuku frowned. “Oh.”
Katsuki laughed ruefully, and Izuku glanced back up just as he looked down. “Guess we’re in the same boat, in a way.”
A wash of guilt fell over Izuku’s face. “I’m sorry.”
”Stop apologizing for things you can’t fucking control. I thought I already told you that, or do I need to get back in there with these?” Katsuki propped his free hand up against the mattress between them, wiggling the two scarred fingers.
Izuku smiled, the sorrowful look receding just a little bit, but not all the way. “No, no no, I’ll be good. Aye aye, captain.”
Katsuki smiled softly, looking directly into Izuku's eyes again. “I like the sound of that.”
Izuku chuckled. “I bet you do.”
They sat in silence for a few beats, simply content to look at each other in the dark of Izuku’s (and Katsuki’s: he’d all but lived there for eight consecutive years, he was allowed to count it as his as well—but he wouldn’t tell Izuku that in fear of crossing a boundary) apartment, one under a dorky blanket, one above it.
Izuku, unprompted, let his hand fall into Katsuki’s, the two hands on their sides phasing into each other like they were meant to fit like the last puzzle pieces in an incomplete puzzle. (Albeit Izuku’s hand was just a bit bigger than Katsuki’s.)
There was a comforting weight to it that Katsuki hadn’t consciously expected. Is this what it feels like for Izuku when I touch him?
Sure, he could feel his fingers in Izuku’s head, but it wasn’t like this. This was more intimate, more intentional. Like in the station, but…more.
His ears turned a warm pink.
“Go to sleep, nerd.”
Izuku nodded, not closing his eyes just yet.
”Thank you.”
”For what?” Katsuki asked.
”Not leaving me when…all of this happened.”
Katsuki scoffed lightly, but it had no real bite to it. “I’ve got to make up for lost time.”
Izuku smiled. “You mean it?”
Katsuki nodded, eyeing their hands.
“At this rate, I should have to be in the same room as you at all times. That’s probably why Teach gave you back your sharps and your balcony key, come to think of it.”
He paused, looking back up.
”I gotta make sure you stay in the land of the living.”
The green haired boy nodded.
”Thank you.”
”Stop fucking saying that and go to sleep.”
Izuku smiled bigger, and closed his eyes, his hand still in Katsuki’s. “Goodnight, Kacchan.”
”’Night, nerd. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Izuku nodded, clearly already in the thralls of falling asleep.
Katsuki’s smile melted off his face, and, in the span of just a few minutes, he was left with only his thoughts for the night.
Usually he’d get up, wander around the apartment for a bit, but right then, Katsuki didn’t want to move.
What if he bumped Izuku, and he disappeared?
What if this was all some cruel dream?
He was afraid that if he left this moment, it would never come back, or maybe he would fade away into nothing.
Katsuki hoped so badly that this was it. That this was what was next, and that there was nothing else waiting for him. That he would exist alongside Izuku until he passed, and if he joined Katsuki in his own time, he wouldn’t have to leave his side ever again.
Katsuki kept his scarlet eyes on the green haired man in front of him, a serene expression on his face despite the turmoil in his head.
Maybe he’d just lay there for a while.
Yeah. Maybe he’d just lay there for a while.
Notes:
Chapter title is from Pool (NPR Tiny Desk Version) by Samia.
me when i write katsuki gouging izuku’s eyes out and it’s fluff. how did that happen you ask? i have no idea. there was a vision and then i blacked out and now we have this chapter.
happy 3,300+ hits and like 77 comments (including my replies)! holy crap! thank you guys so much that’s so crazy. 3,300 in two months is wild for a first fic (and any fic at all honestly)
also. hey guys. hey guys. you uh. recognize that last line from anywhere? anywhere in particular? heh. remember when I said I like to make callbacks? well. here we are.
Chapter 20: Baby, Take My Hand, Let’s Go Together
Summary:
Hero costumes, hearing aids, and unresolved feelings that aren’t being hidden very well. Also, hottie alert!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A warm, inviting light spilled through the windows as morning approached, and Izuku opened his eyes, squinting at the stickiness of his eyelids. A small fleck of disappointment flickered in his chest at the lack of a certain blonde lying beside him.
Where’d he go?
Izuku stretched and yawned, glancing around the room to see where Katsuki may be.
They had hero work to do that day, after all.
Standing up, he scratched under his shirt with his left hand and wandered towards the bathroom, stopping in his tracks when he found Katsuki walking out.
Izuku’s breath hitched when he saw what the man had gotten up so early for—not that he was asleep in the first place, but he had left the bed, so that counted as getting up in Izuku’s mind.
”Woah.”
The blonde was decked out in a costume eerily similar to his one from high school, with a few changes, of course. He had his mask pulled up and over his bangs, and he no longer donned the large explosion-themed accessories on his hood, dual rattails that resembled fuses in their place. There were flash grenades in place of his usual fragmentation grenade themed gauntlets, and, if Izuku was being so honest with himself, he looked amazing.
Izuku’s face turned a dark shade of pink.
(He also looked really, incredibly hot, too. His shirt hugged in all the right places, the rattails made him look badass as hell, his hair didn’t look half bad slicked back by his mask, and god, his eyeliner. Anyone with eyes could see it, so it wasn’t super weird for Izuku to be thinking those thoughts, right? Right?)
“Tch. Whatcha looking at, ya damn nerd?”
Izuku snapped out of his haze, heart fluttering at the crimson eyes staring back at him.
”You look…amazing,” he breathed, overtaken by his awe. “How did you…what did you…I-I mean, you weren’t wearing that before, and it’s just so cool, and…how?”
Katsuki grinned cockily, chuckling roughly to himself. “In concept? The same way I don’t look like I was just murdered. In practice? I have no fucking idea. It just sort of happens, I guess.”
”I mean like…logistically, how does it work?” Izuku wondered. “Do the clothes pop up on the floor or something and you can change into them, or does it just…happen…? Like you said, but literally?” He began to mutter, putting a hand on his chin and staring directly at Katsuki’s neck and chest (completely by accident: he zoned out, it wasn’t entirely his fault!)
”How I change my fucking clothes is none of your business, Izuku!” Katsuki barked, his grin melting into a faux part exasperated and part angry scowl. Izuku spooked and snapped out of his train of thought, his face melting into a pout.
”But Kacchan!” He whined. “You didn’t tell me about your hearing aids, I wanna know about this instead!”
”Well, if it’s between the damn hearing aids and this, I’ll tell you about them instead, ya dork!” Katsuki barked, rolling his eyes.
”Fine!” Izuku shouted, feigning frustration when he was really just excited to get any information at all. Though he was sure that the question about his wardrobe change would nag him for a little while, hearing about Kacchan’s hearing aids and how they functioned under the new circumstances was a perfectly fine substitution.
Katsuki pushed his hair out of the way of his ear, letting his white and orange hearing aid (specially designed with the orange on the inner and outer bit and the white on the wire of the hearing aid) show.
”You still have those ones,” Izuku mumbled just as Katsuki was about to begin, tilting his head. “I like them.”
Katsuki puffed a small breath of air out from his nostrils. “‘Course I do. Now let me fucking tell you about it and stop interrupting me!”
“Sorry!” Izuku squeaked.
Katsuki scoffed. ”I can’t take them off,” he began, “but I can activate and deactivate them as normal. I don’t have to charge them anymore, which is a plus, I guess. I doubt I’d be able to put them on a port if I had to though.”
”Mmm…” That makes some semblance of sense, Izuku thought. “I’m glad you didn’t just lose your hearing entirely.”
Katsuki grinned teasingly. “Tch, maybe I shoulda. Then I wouldn’t have to hear your yapping all the time.”
Izuku frowned again, in part a joke, partially in confusion. “You stuck around for a reason, Kacchan. I thought you liked my musings.”
At least, Izuku had thought so. Katsuki was giving out a lot of conflicting signals these days.
“…it’d be a really fucking weird dream for you to have if it was.” —Disgust, or some variant of it. Anger could probably be lumped into that category as well.
“I haven’t had a heartbeat in a long time, and now, just last night…”
“Izuku, cut it out! Stop fucking apologizing, you know I’m just antagonizing you, so you literally have nothing to be sorry for!”
—Honesty, in one form or another, though usually dismissed with his usual brazen nature in the end.
“Stop fucking sobbing, idiot, it’s gonna be okay.” —Genuine affection, which was still throwing Izuku for a loop most times. Kacchan had never been that affectionate, not even when Izuku had gone back to Yuuei after doing his whole vigilante shebang. He was just getting Izuku’s hopes up for no good reason (not on purpose, of course,), and it scared the green haired boy how excited it’d made him.
“Being as fucking annoying as you’ve been should be illegal! Tell ‘im to lock you up!” —Their usual dynamic, which Izuku was relieved to have, in part, but he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about everything in the middle of it.
As much as Izuku wanted to believe everything could be fine, (and was fine), there was a certain uncertainness to everything they did. Like they were afraid of something, whether it was of losing the other, the threat of change, or something else Izuku was unaware of at the moment.
Things were different, and he was certain (especially with the events that transpired the previous night) that the both of them realized it, even if neither of the boys mentioned it to one another. (Aside from Katsuki…He’d kind of sort of mentioned it, but never elaborated on it, so Izuku decided not to count it.)
He knew they would have to confront it eventually, but…
Izuku didn’t really want to.
He didn’t want to address whatever was happening between them. He didn’t want to address the flutter in his chest, and the fact that Kacchan would never feel it too. He’d much rather shove it all into boxes and never look at them ever, or wait long enough that it no longer stung to look through them.
And, amongst everything else, he wanted it to all go away. He wanted things to go back to the way they were before: Banter laced with genuine laughter, nights filled with chatter about heroes and fighting strategies, things of the like.
Izuku knew he wouldn’t be able to get it all back, not with the state of Katsuki now—there would be no sparring or shoulder checks, no dragging each other around the battlefield like Achilles and Hector, gravel getting in every nook and cranny of their hero costumes, no shirt grabbing or taunting face to face.
Going back to their blossoming friendship and their confusing (yet fulfilling) dynamic was the least he could ask for; There was no way he would make it out alive if he asked for more than what they had before, Izuku figured, so that was the best he could ever hope to get, right?
”Hey, hey, hey! Earth to nerd!” Katsuki barked, waving a hand in front of his face.
Oh. Right.
”Huh?” Izuku blinked owlishly for a moment before continuing, shaking his head. “Sorry, I zoned out there for a minute. What’d you say?”
”Fucking typical. I said,” Katsuki grunted, “You’re fucking lucky that I even entertain your muttering. I should just let you shut yourself up once in a while.”
Izuku’s heart dropped again, and he fought to put up the sassy bravado he’d managed lately (not that it was all a mask: that was how he’d ended up, truly, but it was getting hard to keep up his peppy demeanor when everything was so confusing). “Oh really? Fine, then. I’ll shut up, and we’ll see how you like that.”
Katsuki’s eyebrow raised, and Izuku knew instantly that he’d caught the strain in his voice.
“Nerd. That was the lamest, fakest sass I’ve ever heard from anyone in the history of ever. Fucking talk.”
Izuku just sighed, all the fight leaving his body in that one exhale. “I need to get ready for patrol, Kacchan.” He wandered over to his closet and pulled out his hero suit case, lowering himself down onto his knees and lifting the case onto his bed for a more efficient and effective suit-up.
They’d talk later. Maybe. Even though it made Izuku’s stomach twist painfully at the thought of saying something wrong or having a painful revelation that he was desperately trying to avoid come to light.
Katsuki’s upper lip lifted in disdain behind him, but he didn’t push the subject any further, content to just watch Izuku with his hands on his hips.
Odd.
Izuku clicked open the clasps on the metal case, lifted the lid and reached his arm in, letting the suit mold to his arm with whatever advanced technology the Principal, Mr. Aizawa, and All Might conjured up. The small raised lettering on the inner metal of the case that read ‘DEDICATED TO BAKUGOU KATSUKI AND MIDORIYA IZUKU: THE WONDER DUO’ made him smile softly to himself.
The Wonder Duo. His teachers knew him well.
Maybe a little too well.
A scoff from Katsuki could be heard behind him, and Izuku immediately froze.
”The hell are you smiling about, nerd?” He trotted over, and Izuku, halfway dressed in his mech suit, shut the case quickly and held it shut with his two hands behind him, twisting to face Katsuki.
”D-don’t worry about it, it’s nothing! Smiling? Who’s smiling?”
Katsuki turned his nose up at Izuku, furrowing his brow. “The fuck are you on today, nerd?” Katsuki crossed his arms, leaning on one hip. “You’re just all over the fuckin’ place this morning, huh?”
Izuku pursed his lips and looked off to the side. “Please, just…don’t worry about it right now.”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “You better willingly tell me at least one of the things that’s got you so fucking weird, or I’m gonna force all of it out of you at once with my bare fucking hands.”
Izuku tensed, a small pit of anger bubbling in his stomach.
He didn’t have the right to be angry, though.
He’d done the same thing the day before, prying for information he might not’ve had the right to.
And sure, Kacchan had gotten mad, but that was his thing. He was allowed to get frustrated, because it was his entire persona. Though Izuku doubted he was ever as angry as he pretended to be.
Or maybe he was, and Izuku was just a presumptuous asshole for assuming otherwise.
He sighed, turning around to click open the case. He could know about this, because who’s to say he didn’t already? He’d been hanging around when he got the damn thing, so maybe he’d watched him open it the first time.
“I just…saw a little thing that our teachers requested be added into the mech suit case.” He stepped to the side to let Katsuki scoot in to look, the blonde’s expression softening. “It means a lot to me, so it made me smile. That’s all.”
”The Wonder Duo,” Katsuki breathed, his scarlet eyes locked onto the raised lettering.
”Yeah.” Izuku smiled, looking up at the blonde. “It’s bittersweet, isn’t it?”
Katsuki stayed quiet for a moment, lost in thought.
”Kacchan?”
The blonde blinked a few times, then scoffed and looked away. “Tch. Just get the damn suit on, nerd.” A whisper of a smile ghosted across Katsuki’s lips, and Izuku nodded, reaching for the next piece.
”Alright, Kacchan.”
Izuku let the rest of the metal click and fuse to the remaining parts of his body that were previously uncovered, shut the case, and straightened to face Katsuki.
”You ready to go?”
Katsuki gruffly nodded and gestured to the front door with a flick of his head.
And Izuku, dressed in familiar metal, made his way to the door and put a gloved hand on the silver doorknob.
Before he opened it, he looked back at Katsuki with a smile on his face that creased his eyes. “Thanks for coming with me.”
Katsuki smiled back, gentler than Izuku was used to. “Like hell I’d let you go alone. You’re stuck with me, dumbass. Whether you like it or not.”
Notes:
Chapter title is from no machine by Adrianne Lenker.
we’ve hit 207 kudos, 95 somewad comments, 3,500+ hits, over 100 total bookmarks (and 49 public ones), 50k words and 20 chapters and i literally have nothing to show for it, so please, enjoy this early-by-literally-a-few-hours-once-again milestone chapter to the best of your ability!! the next one is something i’ve been looking forward to writing forever (even though it’s a bit of a doozy from a logistics standpoint) so i’m hoping it’s gonna be worth the uhh four day as per usual wait. i so hate that a milestone chapter is filler/transition but who gives a shit dudebro.
the boys are having big big thoughts again, oh brother. *pulls out one of those herding canes shepherds have* get ova’ ‘ere ya fuckers and work it out like adults
“i’ll be here when you wake up” = i won’t leave you out of the blue; i’m keeping my promise. he was not, in fact, there when Izuku woke up, so i thought I should probably clarify this. it’s just how the cookie crumbled man
also izuku constantly saying thank you after the station???? ‘zuku. baby. you’re good. chill out honeybumpkin he isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. though i’m realizing this is more uh chapter 19 than 20 but shhh if you’re reading 20 you’ve read 19 i hope so whatever.
Chapter 21: Come On My Combat Chameleon, Give it Up You’ve Got Your Life to Attend to
Summary:
The boys’ patrol takes a turn into familiar territory. ft. kitty cat cameo!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“They stuck you on this patrol route again?” Katsuki scoffed with crossed arms, keeping pace beside Izuku.
”Yeah,” Izuku smiled at Katsuki, turning his head to look at him, “I guess they wanted me to be somewhere familiar for my first day back after the week I’ve…well, the week we’ve had.”
The grey bricked street that the men were patrolling stretched out around cafés, crosswalks, and small businesses (most recognizably a small flower shop that an old lady named Miss Suzuki ran with her wife), the scene something out of a Studio Ghibli movie.
It was prone to the occasional mugger or disturbance (usually an angry customer hounding the poor baristas down at Izuku’s favorite coffee shop), but otherwise, the area was pleasantly peaceful.
”Makes enough sense,” Katsuki nodded curtly, and Izuku couldn’t help but stare at his hair. It looked really nice pulled back like that.
“‘Sides, you like this route, don’t you?”
Izuku nodded gently at Katsuki’s sharp memory, smiling softly when he turned his head to look back in front of him. “I do. Everyone is really nice down here, and it’s a welcome reprieve from busier areas like the shopping district.”
Two small children, giggling and all smiles, ran past the two of them playing with some sort of small plastic airplane. The one holding it had stretched his arm out just slightly (a flexibility quirk?) so the other little boy following him (donning brown cat ears and a tail) couldn’t reach it. They hopped and darted around the sidewalk, not worried about bumping into anyone because not many people other than the two heroes and maybe a few others coming out of a small konbini were out and about.
”Tch, kids need to watch where they’re fucking going,” Katsuki grunted, but Izuku saw the way his eyes trailed after the two little boys as they continued straight, crossing the road while the children had turned left. “Could’a bumped right into you.”
Izuku chuckled. “They’re just kids, Kacchan, cut them some slack. We were like that once.”
A small smile ghosted across Katsuki’s lips. “Yeah. I guess we were.”
The two stayed quiet for a few beats, Izuku’s mechanical boots tapping against the ground as they walked. Momentarily, the green haired hero wondered what the streets might’ve looked like if he was seeing all the extra people he consciously knew were there, but couldn’t quite interact with visually.
Sure, he knew he could probably access that power if he really wanted to, (which he didn’t really, not right then) but he figured that it was more reasonable to just imagine it for the moment. Transparent people who looked like Kacchan existing just beyond the average eye, maybe following their own Izuku, maybe interacting with eachother…It was a complex, interesting concept, and Izuku couldn’t help but want to know more.
Maybe he’d experiment with it later.
A familiar frigid, heavy, tingling sensation spread through Izuku’s hip, pulling him out of his head, and the man let out a small giggle.
Feeling mildly betrayed, he swung his head over to see Katsuki with the tip of his index finger in the crease between his torso and his hip.
“Get that out of there!” Izuku swatted at the transparent finger with the hand on the corresponding side (closest to the shops, not facing the road) and Katsuki begrudgingly pulled his hand back.
“Just makin’ sure you’re alert,” he grunted with a cocky grin. “Or maybe I should have let you zone out, get flattened by a car crossing at the wrong time or some shit.”
”Haha, very funny Kacchan,” Izuku rolled his eyes and grinned at the blonde.
”I’m being completely serious, I hope you get fucking hit. See if I care.”
”Kacchan!” Izuku whined at the teasing lilt in his friend's voice, before he caught a glimpse of something in his peripheral vision.
A woman with brown hair and a business casual outfit popped out of the coffee shop they were passing, eyeing the sarcastic, grinning-at-nothing Izuku with an air of confusion and mild concern.
Izuku, upon noticing her attention on him, straightened and gave a stiff, sheepish wave. Right. Other people can’t see Kacchan…Crap.
After they had passed her, he deflated with a face redder than a cherry tomato, his nerves already fried with embarrassment.
Oh, god, he probably looked insane! People were probably thinking that he was going off the deep end or something, and then they’d tell their friends and his friends and his career as a teacher and a hero would be ruined and all his relationships would crumble and…
“Nerd.” Katsuki grunted beside Izuku in an attempt to snap him out of his overthinking haze. “You’re alright. Calm the fuck down.”
”A-ah, sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku mumbled, running his hands around and along the planes of his warm, warm face, “It’s just…It has to be at least kind of weird to other people that the pro hero Deku is talking to nothing, right? I don’t want to cause any trouble…”
“Tch. Why the fuck do you care? You know you’re not crazy, that should be all that matters. Those extras wouldn’t know what they were yapping about even if they did decide to make a thing out of it.”
“Mmm…I guess that makes sense…” Izuku muttered, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk in front of him.
”And if and when they do figure out that something’s up,” Katsuki continued, “you have the explanation to shut them up. Lie Detector already told you you’d probably be fine, so believe him, and actually try to enjoy your first fucking patrol back on the job. Trust your damn elders for once.”
“Don’t call him that, his name is Detective Tsukauchi…” Izuku whined quietly, looking and feeling a little less deflated than before. “Even if you’re dead, you still need to respect authority!” Izuku’s heart dropped into his ass when he realized what he’d just said. He really, really hoped that wasn’t insensitive.
Katsuki’s eye twitched. ”You just repackaged my statement, didn’t actually acknowledge anything I just said and threw it back in my face, and you want me to listen to you? Fuck off!”
Izuku rolled his eyes, but a small (relieved and snarky) smile appeared on his lips. “I got it, I need to trust my elders and believe that everything is gonna be okay. Understood.”
“You fucking better, I’ll kick your ass if I have to see you have another panic attack,” Katsuki scoffed.
Izuku thought he meant well by that…maybe he was just worried about him? It was taunting in the way he used to interact with Kirishima, so…yeah. It was meant to be positive, Izuku decided.
In the midst of Izuku’s debating, Katsuki had begun eyeing a small alleyway beside a little internet café for any trouble. They were on patrol, after all. Even if where they were patrolling had a crime rate lower than the ninth circle of hell, they still needed to be alert, as Katsuki had so kindly pointed out earlier.
Nothing was there aside from a small, fluffy calico kitty, which Izuku recognized to be Miss Suzuki’s cat named Kame. She was known to roam around the block quite a bit, popping into shops to say hello and get rubs and pets whenever and wherever she could. It wasn’t anything they had to worry about, though the fact that she had her green eyes trained quite literally directly on Katsuki had Izuku’s interest piqued.
The two men exchanged knowing looks.
”Huh.” Izuku tilted his head at her, and Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed. They paused in front of the alleyway to investigate further. “Kacchan, wave your hand or something.”
Katsuki did so begrudgingly and with a roll of his eyes, and, sure enough, her irises tracked the movement.
Izuku’s eyes lit up, and he swung his head to look at Katsuki. ”Has this happened before? Can animals normally see you? Maybe that’s where the myth that animals can see ghosts came from…though I guess it isn’t really a myth anymore…” Izuku muttered fervently, a metallically gloved hand placed on his chin.
Katsuki, after shooting Izuku a peeved glare, nodded, crouching down to let the kitty approach him. “I don’t usually see a lot of ‘em, since I’m always with your shut-in ass,” Izuku winced a little at the piercing comment, “but when I do, this is a pretty typical reaction. ”
Kame phased through his fingertips, which were positioned above her back, purring and padding in little circles under his transparent hand.
“Fuckin’ weirdo,” he muttered to the animal, who trilled in response.
Izuku crouched down as well, letting Kame make rounds between the two of them, her little green collar jingling as she went. “She probably likes the cold, Kacchan. It’s pretty warm out today.”
Katsuki flattened his hand further, tilting his head. “Tch, are my hands really that fucking frigid?” Kame purred louder, rolling her head in Katsuki’s hand as if trying to get it to connect with her fur, to no avail, of course.
Letting his hands fall into the space between his knees, Izuku nodded. “It’s more like cold water than anything, honestly. Heavy and…weirdly tingly, too. Not freezing, just a bit icy.”
Izuku lifted his right forearm, letting the metal shift up, back, and away from his hand and wrist so he could pet Kame without risking any snags or suit malfunctions. He hadn’t had the suit for all that long—no more than a month or two—so he didn’t have all the functions down to an exact science yet. He didn’t want to risk any accidents.
His heart dropped at the thought of accidentally hurting the small creature offering her affection to them with nudges of her head against his knee and rounds made through the blonde hero’s hand and legs.
After a few moments of getting more love from Katsuki, Kame, to Izuku’s excitement, noticed the change and popped over to receive her ration of love from the green haired hero, and he gladly partook. Her calico fur was thick and short between his fingers, and Izuku smiled at the gesture of her pushing her head (successfully this time) into his open palm.
”Mm.” Katsuki’s expression tightened minutely in thought, watching the semi-plump kitty rub against Izuku’s legs (to which he gently guided her away from any crevices or gaps in the plates that could pull on her coat). Izuku wondered momentarily what he might be thinking about, given his eyes were trained directly on his bare arm (minus the compression sleeve he wore almost constantly to keep the stabbing pains at bay). He’d let Kacchan work it though his head for a little bit before prying.
In the silence that followed, Kame made her rounds one, two, three more times before trotting off into the alleyway and hopping up a stack of discarded furniture and trash bags, disappearing behind the familiar brick of her caretaker’s flower shop.
Izuku’s eyes followed her quickly receding form disappointedly, and he lifted his arm to put his suit back on fully. He’d never been more grateful for the plate shifting function than he was right now. He’d have to send yet another ‘thank you’ text to the build team later. Damn, maybe he should have gotten a picture of Kame for Melissa, Hatsume and Mr. Aizawa. (He knew how much his teacher would’ve appreciated it, despite his rough exterior.)
”Nerd.”
Izuku looked over at Katsuki, who looked deep in thought. “Huh? What’s up, Kacchan?”
The blonde furrowed his brow and pointed at Izuku’s arm, which had long since finished reattaching the metal pieces to itself. “How the hell does it work?”
Izuku’s face warmed a little bit at the sudden intrusion, and he stammered out an answer. “M-my suit?”
He tilted his head just slightly, expression tightening in its signature fiery way. ”What the hell else would I be talking about, dumbass? I wanna know how the hell that damn thing just did that.”
”O-oh! Yeah, I can tell you about my suit!” Izuku smiled genuinely, eyes creasing as his heart began to race. “I think we’re okay to take a small break from patrol so I can show you.” It wasn’t often that Katsuki showed his nerdier side, (even if it was just barely shown outwardly this time around), so he was admittedly eager to take advantage of the opportunity.
Izuku stood, and Katsuki stayed crouched, craning his head to look at him. The man in question took a few steps back, his multicolored suit a stark contrast to his surroundings. Graffiti littered the walls surrounding him, various tags of different artists marking the reddish orange, slightly chipped brick. “Here, can you just—“ Izuku gestured in front of him, and Katsuki, heeding the message, moved to lean against one of the walls so Izuku was stationed in front of the brick rather than the shadows of the rest of the alley. The roofs above them made it hard for light to reach the farther corners of the path, so Izuku was simply moving the two of them to a better spot in hopes of giving his blonde companion a better look at the mechanics of his suit.
Hands up and palms facing him, Izuku looked at Katsuki, who had his arms crossed and his eyes darkened in thought and focus. His eyes trailed slightly past Izuku’s shoulders at the big, modified and circled red X painted in spray paint on the wall behind him as the green haired hero began to speak about the mechanics of his costume, eyeing the metal on his arms.
”Well, the plates are connected to neurotransmitters I have behind my ears, and I can tell them to shift the designated metal plates back towards my shoulder, shift back to my arm, extend outwards, et cetera.”
Izuku lifted his arm in front of him and made a fist, causing Katsuki’s eyes to glimmer with not-hidden-very-well interest.
Plates of various shapes and colors lifted up from the sides of his arms and made a high pitched hissing sound, pulling backwards to reveal small metal tubes akin to the barrel of a shotgun—though sized down substantially—with ribbing around the fronts of the metal. “Hatsume put a special kind of cable in my arms and back,” Izuku started, shifting to the side to show the other various plates lifting behind his cape to reveal similar barrels lining his shoulderblades, “that mimic Blackwhip pretty well. They aren’t just straight metal cord, to mitigate the possibility of accidentally hurting any civilians in a rescue scenario.”
Katsuki tilted his head, the chunk of hair hanging backwards out of his mask flopping to the side. “What the hell is it then?”
Izuku smiled, and, in an instant, strands of what looked like flexible lasers (exactly like Blackwhip, if a little tamer) shot out of his arms, writhing like the real thing. “Hard light laser cables. There’s a cord for it to attach itself to, yes, but it’s mostly just pure energy. They can hold just as much as Blackwhip could, if not more, and I control their intensity with the neurotransmitter as well…which is to say they get mad when I get mad, just like old times.” Izuku reigned them in, the thrashing lasers swirling back into his arm in an organized fashion.
”Tch. Grease Monkey and whatever the fuck her name was really went all out on that, didn’t they?” Katsuki shook his head in mock disbelief. “Fucking lasers. What the hell did you do to deserve that?” Katsuki completed his sentence with an overly mocking swing to it, just to drive the point home that he was fucking with Izuku and not entirely serious. Oddly considerate, but he’d take it.
Izuku smiled to himself, nodding with a small ‘mhm’. “I owe them everything. They even gave me Float,” Izuku tilted his head downwards, lowering his arm and telling the plates on his legs to extend as well. Those ones revealed small, angled pieces of metal that presumably worked as jet-propulsion devices. “I have some of these on the bottoms of my feet and on my back as well.”
Katsuki’s eyes drifted down to the shoes in question, grinning at the green iron soles on the front. He fought a quickly rising chuckle, his eyes glancing around at the various bits of his costume that further proved his thought.
Paw like soles.
A hood with “ears”.
Larger than life legs to presumably allow for Fa Jin’s extra firepower.
He put a hand over his mouth, attempting to stifle his laughter. “They made you look like a fucking bunny.”
Sigh.
Izuku wilted, face hardening in mild annoyance. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice that before, Kacchan,” he muttered in a deadpan voice.
”Who signed off on it? They deserve some serious praise, this is fucking priceless.”
Izuku grumbled to himself, the open plates on his legs, arms and back clicking back into place. “I have a nagging feeling you’d have done the same thing, yeah?”
Katsuki barked out a laugh, eyes watering as he clutched his stomach. “It’s not my fucking fault your attempt at an homage to All Might turned out so terribly! The ears on your fucking hood look nothing like his hair tufts, you dumbass!”
Izuku rolled his eyes, shooting a glare his way. “‘S not like anyone let me know, you know. You guys let me keep that first version for far too long. I looked stupid.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Katsuki heaved, wiping tears out of his eyes with his bulky glove. “We were fifteen, sixteen at most. We were bound to have stupid first costumes.”
“Not you, yours was awesome,” Izuku mumbled, straightening and looking over at him directly. “Though I can’t say I don’t like this version as well.”
”Damn right mine was awesome. I was a dick, sure, but having a fashion designer for a mother made my outfits look sick as hell.”
Izuku nodded. “Oh, right. I always forget about that.” Mitsuki was a woman of many talents, after all. “And you weren’t that mean at Yuuei, not really. You were just…you.”
Katsuki didn’t respond to that, settling to stare with a concerningly sad look on his face at Izuku. After a moment, he scoffed and started on his way back out to the main road. “I’m not gonna fight you on that right now.”
Izuku frowned and raced to catch up with him, attempting to (out of habit) grab onto his sleeve, but failing miserably. Katsuki tensed at the feeling of Izuku’s hand quite literally in his arm, and made a mildly embarrassing noise in his surprise. Shit. Shit, shit shit shit! He ruined it, they were having a good day and he ruined it. How could he fix this…
His mind raced to find an answer in the few seconds before Katsuki swung around, ready to explode, when Izuku interrupted him. “Do you wanna race?” He blurted, with a semi-determined look on his face.
He hadn’t really meant to say that, but it was happening now, so…
Icy fear and hot, hot embarrassment settling deep in his bones, Izuku immediately backtracked when Katsuki didn’t respond immediately, staring at him with a pensive (in his own fiery way) look on his face. “I-I mean, I could tell you were genuinely interested in my suit, and I need to practice navigating city terrain more since it’s been a while since I’ve been able to freely do it, and—“
”Shut the fuck up, ‘zuku. Of fucking course I want to race.”
Izuku grinned nervously, immensely grateful for his success in diffusing the heated situation before it even began, and made the best, most determined face he could (leagues better than the last one).
“Let’s see if you can keep up.”
Katsuki grinned too, though with more ferocity than Izuku. “Like hell I won’t. You’re gonna choke on my fucking smoke.”
Izuku, after shooting his friend an all too sassy grin, shot out a few strands of the faux blackwhip from the sides of his arms and swung himself upwards, hovering in the air for a moment before smiling down at Katsuki and landing on a nearby roof. “You can certainly try, Kacchan!” The sound of his mechanical boots thunked on the various materials of the shop roofs with every step as he fought to gain a head start.
He wouldn’t go easy on him. Izuku didn’t doubt Katsuki could hold his own without a quirk, and he was ninety nine percent sure he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he didn’t go all out. Katsuki’d just have to get a little more technical than he was used to.
Izuku was already a few roofs away when he heard his hotheaded friend shout as loudly as he could from the alley, presumably trying to get up the fire escape to follow in the other hero’s footsteps.
”Fucking game on, shitnerd!”
Two ropes of writhing Blackwhip shot out from his arms once more, and Izuku laughed out loud as they gripped onto the corners of a building he deemed durable enough to handle the strain and pulled him in a downwards arc. He’d have to maneuver quite a bit to keep Katsuki on his toes even without his quirk, and Izuku would be lying if he said he didn’t plan on doing exactly that.
Katsuki, as expected, quickly caught up, jumping over gaps between buildings like it was nothing and still keeping pace with the constantly swinging Izuku.
”Gonna have to do more than that to keep me away, dumbass!” Katsuki shouted from a roof maybe fifty feet away (accounting for the height and length of the distance).
Izuku’s face pinched in a grin with his growing resolve, and he flung himself upwards so he was midair for more than a few seconds to get a good look at Katsuki’s position. The buildings were getting significantly taller as they went on, which Katsuki was taking in stride. The blonde hopped from roof to roof like it was nothing, swerving past generators and railings in his signature crouch-and-jump style.
When Izuku eventually fell, he shot a few more strands of blackwhip to keep him from splatting on the ground. Yes, he could have used Float, but he was having too much fun doing this to even consider it.
Momentarily, he debated playing a little prank on Katsuki, but quickly kabashed it because he had no idea how that would even work physics wise. His blackwhip wouldn’t be able to grab him, would it?
He pouted internally at the revelation, but that disappointment was quickly replaced with renewed vigor when he noticed Katsuki had elapsed the fifty feet into twenty five, making quick strides on the buildings Izuku had his Blackwhip attached to. Wind whipped past Izuku’s ears, blowing his hair back wildly, but Katsuki’s had no reaction to its surroundings.
Civilians below (the area more populated than the patrol route they’d been on before; Izuku knew he had leeway with where he ended up, as long as he stayed within a certain radius, he’d be alright. There were always more than enough heroes around, especially with the lowering crime rates) made noises of pure excitement as they saw the One For All hero swing from building to building above them, head to the sky. And for once, Izuku didn’t care what they thought about all of this.
It felt….normal.
For once, everything felt normal.
Familiar.
And Izuku knew for sure at that moment that he wouldn’t give it up for the world.
Katsuki laughed loudly into the empty sky, eyeing Izuku with a fire that the green haired hero had missed so, so much. “Don’t you fucking dare go easy on me!”
Izuku grinned hard, all focus directed on the blonde. The way his eyes creased when he laughed, the way his form semi-solidified in his determination to win.
”I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Notes:
Chapter title is from Indiana by Adrianne Lenker.
day late…apologies! life happened (I went to the beach and didn’t have time to write). 32 is beach weather guys you can’t blame me. but!! this is officially the new longest chapter (as of 29/11/25) at a whopping 3,987 words! I hope that makes up for the lateness :3
callbacks, so many callbacks… and this is by far one of my favorite chapters in concept. they’re just living, for once in their stupid little lives they’re just living. eughh my babies go on and race all you want i’ll write it a thousand times over so you guys can have that joy all the time.
mandatory every few chapters “comments and kudos highly appreciated!” your comments make my day, and i’m always up to answer questions/theories and/or rant about the boys being oblivious or stupid :3
Chapter 22: Keeping You Company
Summary:
The boys admire the city lights and Izuku has a scare.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki huffed as they slowed, skidding to a stop with a few final footfalls before his feet were completely stationary. Izuku did the same, albeit with a little more grace and a little less huffing and puffing.
The blonde swallowed and coughed out a scoff. “Holy fuck, Izuku, that thing—“ he takes a breath “—is insane.”
Izuku grinned, breathing heavily as well. He tried to ignore the painful buzz in his right arm as he watched Katsuki wobble with his hands on his knees. “You’re only saying that because you don’t have your quirk to compare it to, Kacchan.”
Katsuki squinted his left eye (though it was hard to see in the dark) and tilted his head, his cheek pulling up in a strangely, humorously agreeable expression. “Eh, you’re probably right.”
Izuku stretched out his back in an arch with his hands on his hips, grimacing at the bolt of paint that shot up his arm before controlling his expression and settling into a normal standing position. He swallowed before he spoke. “Seems like we’re both a little out of practice,” he muttered.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, standing fully as well. “No fucking shit, you figure that out all on your own, big shot?”
“Kacchan,” he scolded, as the blonde began walking in the direction of a nearby alley system. Izuku jogged to catch up before settling a steady pace between the two of them.
”What are you doing?”
“Patrolling, like we’re supposed to be doing.” He rolled his eyes, and Izuku frowned.
“We don’t have to keep doing it if you don’t want to, my—our shift’s been over for a while, and I usually only stay late because I want to….” Izuku leaned closer to Katsuki, which was…surprisingly not well received. He scowled and took a step away.
Izuku frowned harder, his expression souring into something of concern and mild annoyance. They’d been just fine a few hours ago, hell, just a few minutes ago they were cracking jokes while the police took a few foul-mouthed robbers into custody.
Maybe the whole “out of practice” comment had set him on edge.
”Kacchan, I’m sorry if I upset you…I didn’t mean to poke at any sore spots.”
Katsuki sighed. “”S fine, nerd. Don’t sweat it. I’m just tired.”
Izuku tilted his head to the side. “I thought you didn’t get tired?”
”It’s different when it’s exertion, dumbass. I meant that I don’t get sleepy, not that I don’t get tired. I may not have lungs, but travelling long distances takes a lot of energy.” He scoffed and shook his head a few times before beginning again, muttering to himself. “I sure as hell get tired, especially with your nerdy ass around.”
Izuku nodded. That…kind of made sense? Then again, the whole situation they were in didn’t make a lot of sense as a whole, so…Izuku supposed Kacchan was allowed some leeway.
”Alright. That makes sense,” Izuku repeated his thought out loud, still walking beside Katsuki and keeping an eye out for any disturbances in the darkness. A small metal glint by the entrance to an alley caught his attention for a moment, but that interest was quickly extinguished when he realized it was just a bolt and a few washers. Probably from some discarded project an engineer or tinkerer in the area left behind, or perhaps it was just from the dumpster in general, who knows. They quickly passed it, and Izuku decided to pay it no mind.
In the lack of action or noise, the green haired hero found himself looking at Katsuki’s hair once again, taking careful note of its perfect-ness. It wasn’t messed up or sweaty at all, unlike Izuku’s, which had salty drops of the formerly mentioned lining the roots of each strand and curls slightly askew from all the wind.
Just another thing that proved he wasn’t really there.
Izuku tensed and forced himself to tear his eyes away from Katsuki’s spiky hair, settling to look in front and around him, just as the blonde was doing.
Boxes, Izuku. Boxes.
They’d made quick work of their patrol, finding little to nothing in the areas they revisited and only a few thugs and one minor robbery of a woman’s belongings (so, technically a mugging, if there was a difference) in the busier bits of town they’d migrated to during their race. Now they were left to either go home or hang out for a while longer, for whatever reason they may come up with.
”Do you…wanna sit? For a little bit?” Izuku offered, glancing up to look Katsuki in the eyes.
The blonde shot him a look, an eyebrow raised. “Hah? Where the hell would we do that? And, more importantly, why the hell would we do that?”
Izuku’s expression dulled a little bit and he smiled softly as he looked back towards the ground. Thought so.
“I guess I was just thinking that, since we had such a long day, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to sit down somewhere, maybe look at the stars if they’re out. We don’t have to if you don’t want to, though.”
A beat passed, the only noise being the muffled sounds of their footsteps before Katsuki spoke up. “Fine.”
The one-word answer, although gruff, made Izuku feel a little bit better. That was the Kacchan he knew…albeit the slightly-distressed-but-he-won’t-tell-anyone Kacchan, but it was familiar, and that was all that mattered. Izuku knew how to handle this.
”Here, Mr. Aizawa was telling me about this really cool spot a few blocks down where you can see the whole city!” Izuku reached his hand out, but, after realizing his error, slowly pulled it back with an apologetic look on his face. Katsuki was not having it, apparently, if the displeased and slightly peeved look on his face said anything.
”Come on,” Izuku repeated, gentler this time. “I won’t leave you behind.”
Katsuki scoffed. “Stop fucking saying that. I’m just fine on my own, ‘s not like you’ve got engines for fucking shins.”
Izuku made a ‘so-so’ face, and Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Well, I kind of do…”
Katsuki growled and, with a small prompt from Izuku, started following close behind with his hands in his pockets (his gauntlets had disappeared the moment he took them off a few hours before, and apparently he didn’t give enough shits to make them re-appear).
“That’s beside the point, dipshit,” he barked. “I get that you’re fucking worried, but you’re just making it sound like you think I’m weak or something.”
Izuku’s expression fell a little bit. “Oh. I didn’t…mean it like that…”
Katsuki sighed. “I know, ‘zuku. Stop fucking worrying about it and show me what’s so fucking great about this Eraserhead-approved spot.”
Izuku, looking up from the ground, nodded, and scanned his surroundings so as to not lose his bearings. He made a right at the next possible turn, Katsuki following at his flank as they trotted like ducks in a row down dark, normally very scary alleyways.
They didn’t feel as scary with Kacchan around, Izuku was finding.
He made a sharp turn into an abandoned building, unused for years after a small business moved out and no one moved back in. Aizawa-Sensei said something about vines, right?
Izuku paced around the ground floor of the building for a few moments before noticing the plant-life in question; green and somehow thriving, the vines snaked up and around a smashed window and the railings to a set of stairs.
“Kacchan, it’s up here, I think.” Izuku glanced back, expecting to see his companion following close behind, but there was nothing.
Not a sound, not a movement, not a figure in sight.
”…Kacchan?”
He glanced around, eyes darting from shadowy corner to shadowy corner in hopes of finding him.
Oh.
Oh.
What if…what if it was temporary? What if he was just…gone? And Izuku didn’t even get to say goodbye?
He spun around, hoping, praying to see a familiar face, only to be met with silence.
”Kacchan?!” He shouted, tears starting to prick at his eyes.
Why was he so upset? It was bound to happen eventually. Izuku should be glad it was over, not devastated!
”Nerd, Nerd! Fucking look at me!”
Izuku startled, jumping up and to the side.
Sure enough, there was Katsuki, in all his transparent glory. He was a little blurrier than usual, sure, but the longer Izuku looked, the clearer he got.
Izuku sighed shakily, attempting to distance himself from the pure panic that’d threatened to consume him moments before. A panic much bigger than he would’ve liked to admit.
He’s still here.
“S-sorry, Kacchan, I just, I couldn’t see you for a minute there, a-and I thought...”
The blonde scoffed, furrowing his brow. “It’s dark out, of course it’s gonna be fucking hard to see me. Especially because I’m fucking transparent,” he spat. “I didn’t leave you, now show me where the fuck “up here” is.”
Izuku swallowed, taking in as much of Katsuki as he could with a glance before nodding and pointing to the stairs. “Uh…o-okay. These go to the roof, if I remember Mr. Aizawa’s description correctly.”
Katsuki nodded and started on his way up. Izuku followed soon after, being careful so as to not cut himself on any shards of metal poking up through the railing.
The two men walked up about a flight and a half of stairs before someone filled the silence.
“What the hell was Eraser doing in a shithole like this?” Katsuki muttered to himself, eyeing the state of the chipped, cracked, stained and graffitied walls, weathering and crumbling from years of negligence.
Izuku trailed behind Katsuki, only by a few steps, and answered with a lighthearted voice (despite the gradual lowering of his heart rate from the scare earlier). “Maybe he was around on patrol and just sort of came upon it, like we have? Though I guess we haven’t really, since he gave me the directions to get here…”
Katsuki grunted, cutting off Izuku before he could even begin his rambling. “Wonder what caught his eye.”
Izuku hummed. “Mmm…I guess we’ll have to find out for ourselves.”
It only took a few more moments for the heroes to elapse the rest of the steps, and, once they reached the top, Izuku inhaled sharply.
From the top of the stairwell, Izuku could see everything.
The city lights glittered like they were alive, like he could reach out and touch them with one hand, but there was no noise to prove it. No car horns, no bustle of people…just the whistling of the wind past his ears.
It was beautiful.
Katsuki, who had made it up to the concrete roof first, was staring the same way, although in his own Katsuki way.
“Tch. Maybe the guy knew what he was talking about after all.”
Izuku grinned, laughing. “Kacchan, of course he knew what he was talking about! He’s our teacher!”
Katsuki tilted his head to look at Izuku all the way, eyebrows raised high. “Oh, really? I thought he was just some homeless guy that crashed in the classroom sometimes.”
Izuku pouted playfully, stomping up to the blonde and sticking his fingers in his eyes. He jabbed his fingers in and out a few times, face souring as Katsuki gave little to no reaction.
He stood there for a solid five to ten seconds, just shoving his fingers in and out of Katsuki’s eye sockets on repeat, before giving up on getting any sort of reaction out of him and letting his arm fall slack to his side with a metallic clunk.
“You’re no fun,” he grunted, making his way to the edge of the roof and sitting down carefully.
Katsuki followed suit, sitting down just as gently a little less than a foot away. “Fuck off, I’m the funnest.”
“I don’t think that’s even a word…” Izuku grumbled, letting his feet hang off the edge.
Katsuki did the same as they looked down at the city lights below.
Despite having offered the retreat himself, Izuku was very quickly finding that he didn’t have any idea what to talk about, if he wanted to talk at all. He didn’t want to get too deep into whatever was happening between them just yet, or at all, so that was out of the question…He was pretty sure that his questions about what it was like being in Kacchan’s situation were starting to grate on the blonde’s nerves as well, and Izuku really didn’t want to pop whatever balloon Kacchan was slowly filling with unreleased anger (Izuku had come to the conclusion that that was the only possible reason why he was being so weirdly nice to him these days: eight years is a long time to not have anyone to take your anger out on, and Kacchan was kind of known for that) yet, so he wasn’t planning on taking that chance.
Surprisingly enough, Katsuki was the one to break the silence. “‘S pretty out here.”
Izuku nodded, but the strain in his chest at the unfamiliar niceness of Katsuki’s tone didn’t go unnoticed by him. “It really is.”
The men sat there, content to just exist in each other's company, until a thought struck Izuku like an icepick to the skull.
“I have to teach tomorrow.”
Way to ruin the moment, he grumbled in his head.
Katsuki barked out a laugh. “Good fucking luck with that.”
Izuku let his head fall into his hands. “Kacchan, that’s not very encouraging.”
The blonde simply shrugged. “‘S not supposed to be. You’re completely and utterly fucked.”
Izuku let out a discouraged laugh, looking at the city below through his fingers. “I still have at least ten papers to grade from before break.” He dragged his scarred hand up his scalp, pulling his sweaty green hair back.
“Eh, it can wait.” Katsuki remarked, leaning back on his hands. “You deserve a little break.”
Izuku’s expression softened. “…Kacchan, are you sure?”
Katsuki’s grin faltered, and he twisted his head to glare at Izuku. “The fuck you mean “are you sure”? Fuck all the way off!”
Izuku backtracked. “O-oh, I mean, yeah! I deserve a break!” He put on his most determined face, though a drop of nervous sweat tracked down the side of his face.
Katsuki scoffed and looked away. “Just look at the damn lights, dumbass.”
Izuku deflated and nodded, turning his head to look back at the view.
”Yeah, okay Kacchan.”
The lights emanating from cars, windows of buildings and street lamps blinked and flickered as the minutes passed, and, chock full of terrifying thoughts and questions, Izuku sighed quietly.
At least the view was nice.
Notes:
Chapter title is from forwards beckon rebound by Adrianne Lenker.
i have….mixed feelings about this one. This is probably one of the most in between/transitional chapters i’ve written to date. fear not, though…for in between implies the existence of a before and after!!
yeah…uh. not a whole lot to say about this uh. this chapter. they’re dumbasses and i love them but the point is literally flying over their head. it’s descending altitude but like it’s up there.
edit 4/12/25: i am going to start uploading chapters every week instead of every four days! four days just isn’t enough time for me to get everything done that I want to get done (i.e get these chapters to their best selves and prewrite other fics and just generally have any free time at all?) so expect chapters every seven days rather than every four. Apologies for the inconvenience!
Chapter 23: I Just Want a Place With You
Summary:
Tying a tie, public transportation shenanigans and the familiar sight of Yuuei High.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Izuku, staring hopelessly into his reflection in his bathroom mirror, couldn’t believe he still didn’t know how to tie a tie.
One would’ve thought eight years would be enough time to learn, but he just never got around to it, okay? And besides, it was something he was known for at this point. His students made fun of him endlessly for it at first, but, after realizing that it was never going to change, the teasing gradually ceased. As well as this, his coworkers (and his former teachers) knew he was hopeless, and had given up on trying to teach him a long time ago.
So, hence the still-super-stubby-and-short tie.
The freckled boy pouted at his reflection, weaseling his fingers under the fabric of the tie and attempting to get it to look even semi-correct, to no avail.
“Tying a tie shouldn’t look like you’re strangling a dead animal,” Katsuki remarked snidely from his place sitting on Izuku’s bed, clearly finding some cruel sort of amusement in Izuku’s misfortune. He didn’t offer any guidance or help, to Izuku’s (surprising) displeasure.
”Shut up, Kacchan,” Izuku grumbled, giving up on getting his knot anywhere near perfect and slipping on his black overcoat.
”I like the All Might belt, too. Suits you.”
”I can’t tell if you’re being snarky or serious.”
Katsuki barked out a laugh. ”Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy?”
Izuku swung his head around to glare at Katsuki, who was grinning cheekily from ear to ear. “You better not make today hell, Kacchan.”
”I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”
”Kacchan.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Sensei.”
Izuku let out a nervous chuckle. “Don’t call me that, it sounds weird.”
Katsuki stood, stalking his way over to lean against the wall by the bathroom door. ”Fuck you, I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want.”
Izuku grimaced. “I don’t even want to know what that entails,” he commented, making a few final adjustments on his tie before turning fully to look at Katsuki.
He glanced at the clock behind the blonde, making a face at the time. “We’ve got to catch the trolley in ten minutes, so it’s looking like we won’t be getting breakfast,” he muttered, squeezing past Katsuki (he really didn’t want to just walk through him; that felt like an invasion of his personal space, or maybe a direct violation of some kind of moral law) to slip on his shoes and grab his briefcase and backpack.
”Don’t forget your glasses, Nerd,” Katsuki remarked after him, and Izuku, after the initial confusion of how he knew about his glasses (given he’d only gotten them a few years ago), smiled, popping over to his bedside table to grab the pair of black reading glasses he’d grown so accustomed to wearing. He slipped them into his shirt pocket and made his way towards the front door.
”Thanks.” He stopped in front of the door and noted the return of Katsuki’s hero outfit, though minus the mask and gauntlets this time around. “Why are you in your hero costume? We aren’t going out on patrol, and no one is going to see you anyway, so…”
Katsuki approached Izuku—whose hand was on the doorknob—and sneered. “It feels wrong to wear something casual to your job. I’m trying to think of it as me volunteering in your class rather than just camping out, sue me.”
Izuku opened the door and allowed Katsuki to step out first before following suit. He locked the door behind him with his housekeys, the little All Might keychain on the keyring swinging with the motion. “You could just stay here if it makes you uncomfortable—I don’t mind at all.”
”Like hell I’d do that,” Katsuki scoffed. “Can’t afford to have you getting your dumbass in trouble.” He followed Izuku through the hallway and down the stairs to the main floor, hands in his pockets the whole time.
”There’s not a lot you can do if I did, Kacchan. It’s not like anyone other than Kame can see you anyway,” Izuku remarked somberly, pushing through the front doors to get to the sidewalk. “I appreciate the worry, though. I’m not saying I don’t think you can protect me, just that maybe I can protect myself a little better than you can right now.”
Katsuki’s lip pulled up in a distasteful glare. “I would find a way. I have before, I’ll just do it again.”
Something icy shot through Izuku’s veins at Katsuki’s statement. He didn’t want to think about what that meant.
Well, he’d debated it when Katsuki first appeared, of course, but he never gave the jarring fact any real thought.
All those times he thought Katsuki was there, he was. They weren’t hallucinations or wishful thoughts; no, he was actually there, in his own ghostly way. “He never left” was a very general statement that Izuku had definitely processed as such, but apparently his brain decided to gloss over all the times he thought someone was there and no one was, or the times that he thought he had heard his name out of a certain someone’s mouth and no one had called him, et cetera et cetera; it was all shitty and confusing and it stressed Izuku out to no end.
”I bet you would,” Izuku commented anxiously, eyeing the platform ahead. “I have no doubts.”
Katsuki tilted his chin up at that, but opted to stay quiet.
As soon as the tram pulled in, people flooded out of and into the open doors, and Izuku and Katsuki just barely managed to snag standing spots in the middle of the second car—although Katsuki had someone phasing halfway into him on the side Izuku wasn’t standing on. This was, as unfortunate as it was, to be expected of the tram ride, but Izuku still felt bad.
He shot Katsuki an apologetic look at the uncomfortable situation, to which Katsuki shot him a glare with no real weight to it aside from the unspoken words ‘you owe me’.
Izuku hoped he wasn’t suffering too much as the trolley lurched forward and began its short trek to Yuuei, pulling Katsuki into Izuku for a moment before he eventually steadied himself, clearing his throat inconspicuously.
The platform they got off at usually stopped just a few streets over from the esteemed hero high school, so after the fifteen minutes elapsed, they would still have a five minute walk to get to the building itself, but he believed it to be a worthwhile use of his money and time to take the tram instead of walking the whole way.
At least, that’s what he thought today. Today he was sore and tired because of the limited sleep he’d gotten the night before (due to the late night grading papers) along with the effects of doing patrol after a week of not doing it, therefore not feeling very optimistic about walking all that way to Yuuei.
He glanced nervously at Katsuki every few seconds, who was watching people chat amongst themselves with an annoyed look on his face.
Izuku wanted to talk to him, of course he did, but it wouldn’t look very good for him to just start talking to someone that didn’t exist. Who’s to say someone on this trolley hadn’t already recognized him? That was becoming an unfortunately common occurrence in present days, Izuku was finding. If, hypothetically, they had recognized him as the One For All Hero: Deku, and they saw him talking to nothing, that would be really, really bad.
A lightbulb went off in his head, but immediately fizzled out. He debated pretending he was on a phone call, but he would be using Kacchan’s name, and that name was pretty damn well known. He was a hero, and, even though it would take a moment for anyone to recognize the name since it’d been so long since his death, people would still recognize it eventually, and the fact that Izuku would’ve supposedly been talking to him, a very, very dead person, would stir up some nasty rumors.
He was just repeating himself at this point, wasn’t he? About the rumors and the people thinking he was insane and yadda yadda yadda.
He’d had those thoughts every day that he’d known Kacchan had been by his side as…whatever he was. A vestige? Spirit? Ghost?
A little voice in his head whispered ‘hallucination’ in a mocking tone, but he quickly shook it off, looking at Katsuki through his peripheral vision.
He almost jumped at the glare the blonde was giving him, gaze darting away from him faster than the speed of light, but quickly steeled himself despite the warmth crawling up his neck and onto his cheeks.
Crap. Was I really thinking so hard that it showed on my face? Oh, god, that’s so embarrassing.
”You’re a fucking loser, you know that, right?” Katsuki lolled his head towards Izuku, the scene almost humorous due to the man taking up half of the blonde’s body. He had both his hands in his pockets and a sneer on his face, glaring daggers at Izuku.
The teacher took a deep breath in and exhaled for double the time, trying his best to keep his gaze on the doors rather than glancing up at the blonde to his left in fear of making the poor guy just trying to go to work think he was staring at him rather than his idiot best friend.
He pulled out his phone in hopes of giving himself a distraction, shooting a message to a few people to let them know he was alive. That’d become a routine (and an obligation, according to Mr. Aizawa, and he wasn’t about to catch a case with his beloved Sensei and coworker right before work) for him these days.
Izuku: Alive and well!
SEEN.
It only took a few seconds for the bubbly girl to respond.
Uraraka: thanks for the update, deku! i’m headed to work
SEEN.
Uraraka: i hope you have a good day! <3
SEEN.
Izuku: You too! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)
SEEN.
Those little emoticon things were a guilty pleasure of Izuku’s. He had a feeling Kacchan would yell at him for that one, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They were cute, sue him!
Izuku: On my way to work now, all is well!
SEEN.
It took a little longer for his teacher to respond than it had for Uraraka to.
Mr. Aizawa: Good. I wouldn’t want you to be late on your first day back.
SEEN.
[…]
Izuku started typing, but paused when he saw his teacher's latest message.
Mr. Aizawa: I assume Bakugou is behaving?
SEEN.
Izuku smiled and glanced at the fuming blonde, deleting his original message and typing a new one after assessing the situation.
Izuku: As well as he can be on public transportation. (⸝⸝⸝-﹏-⸝⸝⸝)
Lots of people. He’s not happy.
SEEN.
Mr. Aizawa: Ah. Good luck then, Midoriya. Godspeed.
SEEN.
Izuku: I’ll do my best. Kacchan looks like he might find out
how to use his quirk just to blow up the trolley. :/
SEEN, LIKED BY MR. AIZAWA.
Izuku opened his last thread knowing that Mr. Aizawa was unlikely to respond once it was clear the conversation was over. Izuku just wanted to make sure his teacher knew he’d seen his message by any method other than just leaving him on read, hence the last response being by him.
Izuku: Alive and well!
SEEN.
Kirishima: Awesome man! Thanks for letting me know. Stay safe out there! :)
SEEN.
Izuku: Will do!! (´꒳`)♡
SEEN.
Kirishima was always good at responding to his texts almost immediately, (“It’s the manly thing to do!” he’d said), so Izuku didn’t have to worry about waiting on a response. They could just text and text and then it was done. Very efficient.
As soon as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, their stop came up and Izuku hit the little red button at the top of the holding bar. When the streetcar ceased its movement, the doors opened, and Izuku, after making sure it was safe to exit without getting trampled, fished a few coins out of his pockets and paid for his and Katsuki’s seat before stepping onto the platform with Katsuki at his flank.
It was stupid, he knew that. Paying for a ghost’s seat. He took up no space, and someone else had quite literally stood in his spot the entire tram ride, but it still felt like the right thing to do.
“Don’t tell me you just paid for my seat.”
Izuku continued walking, looking over his shoulder at the peeved blonde. “It felt wrong not to.”
”You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?! You just spent good money on a seat that didn’t even fucking exist! Dumbass!”
Katsuki jabbed his fingers in Izuku’s eyes once again, and the freckled man curled back and away from the movement. The crowd was thick enough that he didn’t feel too weird reacting; someone could easily pass it off as a bug flying in his face or perhaps a failed sneeze. He would be alright. Right? Right. Everything was fine.
Izuku scowled, and Katsuki shoved his hands back in his pockets with a scoff.
”It’s the principle! Not paying for a seat on public transportation is illegal, you know? I could get fined!”
”How the hell would they even know that I was fucking there, ‘zuku? Huh? How would they know? You didn’t even do so much as talk to me on the damn tram, there is literally no way they would find out unless you told them.”
Izuku, after doing a look around the area they were walking, turned to walk backwards and addressed Katsuki directly. “Maybe I will tell them then.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “No, you won’t.”
Izuku wilted, turning back around and falling into step with Katsuki. “Yeah, you’re right. I won’t.”
The two men made a few more turns (followed by a few more quips thrown around by Katsuki about how stupid Izuku was for paying for his seat; he was really starting to regret his decision, as much as it pained him to say it) before they came upon the gates of Yuuei, and, once they stood directly in front of the monstrous entrance, Izuku pulled out his ID and swiped it across the identification system.
The gates opened slowly, and Izuku sighed, a hand holding his card and a hand holding his briefcase.
”It’s been a while for you, huh, Kacchan.”
Katsuki sighed as well, nodding. “Yeah. I guess it has been.”
Izuku turned to look at Katsuki with a gentle look on his face. “You gonna be okay?”
Katsuki scoffed. “‘Course I will be. Now get your ass inside before students start showing up. Wouldn’t want them to think you’re crazy.”
Izuku feigned offense, taking a few steps before settling into a consistent stride towards the front doors of the building itself, the gates closing behind the two of them.
”Now you’re feeding into my fears? Shameful. Unbecoming of a hero.”
Katsuki groaned. “Just fucking go.”
”We’re going as we speak, or did you not notice your feet moving?”
”Shut the fuck up!”
Izuku laughed, a genuine laugh that made his chest feel warm and fuzzy despite all the chaos in his head.
He was going to get to teach again. Everything was going to be okay.
If Katsuki didn’t decide to be a menace, that was.
…well. He was always a menace, so…
Izuku shook off the thought and decided to believe that it would all be okay anyway.
He kind of couldn’t afford to lose his job right now, so wishful thinking was the best he could do for the moment to ensure that.
As soon as they reached the front doors, Izuku clicked his ID on the secondary identification system and smiled softer than he’d been smiling before.
Here goes nothing.
The two men stepped inside, marking the beginning of what could either be a disaster, or a step in the right direction.
They’d just have to find out, now wouldn’t they?
Notes:
Chapter title is from dragon eyes by Adrianne Lenker.
so. hey guys. early chapter! at least according to my new schedule. yes i know i said every seven days yes i know it’s literally been the same amount of time that i usually give myself but do i really gaf? no. no i don’t. the seven days is to keep me sane and is most certainly not a concrete timeline. for whatever reason i locked in last night and cranked 75% of this chapter out at once so yk that’s just how the cookie crumbled.
i swear i’ll find a better schedule with future fics!! as well as being it’s own thing that i am very proud of, this fic is a stepping stone for bigger projects in the future, so i’m figuring things out as i go here. it’ll get better and better with every project i swear
also, happy 60k words!! we’re basically if not at novel length! that’s deserving of a plus ultra methinks.
anyway. onto the actual chapter notes.
i can’t stop imagining katsuki standing on a crowded ass tram with a guy phasing halfway through him the entire time. his ass is about to blow up the whole damn tram by some act of god take him outta there
izuku folded SO fast bro. “maybe i will!!!” “no, you won’t.” “yeah you right mb.” loser!!!!!!!!!!!!!! whipped loser!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“yeah. I guess it has been.” take that as you will!! i say as they drag me into the basement where all the fanfiction writers live /silly /nsrs
Chapter 24: This Isn’t Rage, It’s Too Specific
Summary:
The boys go back to school, and something simmers in the two of them that neither one is quite ready to face yet.
Chapter Text
“Good morning, class, and welcome to your second year!”
Katsuki watched aptly from the back of the classroom as Izuku, now donning his reading glasses that Katsuki had so helpfully ensured he didn’t forget, stood at his little podium, addressing the class with more enthusiasm than their old teacher ever had.
Sure, he’d attended plenty of these lessons over the years, but, for whatever reason, watching Izuku teach never lost its novelty. Being a teacher was just as much his calling as being a hero was, and hell if that wasn’t entertaining as fuck. Watching him get paid to ramble (and get absolutely desecrated by the students, whose humor was incredibly broken and confusing) was like getting front seats to cirque de solei.
“Today, we’re going to be going over vigilante laws, and why we have them in place. But first,” Izuku gaze darted back and forth between his students and Katsuki, the action flustering him and making him hesitate. He cleared his throat and continued after a moment of pause, “How many of you did the reading you were supposed to over break? Just because it’s your first day doesn’t mean I’m gonna go easy on you, you guys know that.”
A little more than half the hands in the room shot up, and Izuku seemed to deflate like a sad little balloon. “Guys, it wasn’t even three chapters. How did you…you know what,” he sighed, and Katsuki almost laughed, but a sneer quickly replaced that reaction, “It’s your grade going down, not mine. You’ll suffer the consequences later.” Izuku grumbled, stepping down and walking over to his desk to thumb through his lesson plans.
A few displeased murmurs spread around the classroom, saying things like “it’s break, I shouldn’t have to do work” and “why is he so stingy?”, and if Katsuki could’ve, he would’ve blown them all the way to next Christmas for being such brats.
Honestly, he should’ve done that when he was amongst those brats himself. Not that he was the brat; he was a brat, but he wasn’t the brat in this situation. Sparky and Raccoon Eyes and Tape-face were the one’s complaining in his years, about god knows what all the fucking time. If he heard another “Oh, I didn’t study at all and I got a bad grade, this is rigged!” Or “I didn’t do the reading and now I’m completely lost and maybe Sensei just sucks at teaching”, he was going to figure out how to actually blow them up.
Teenagers are stupid and hormonal and he knew that, but come on, they could have had at least a little bit of respect for their damn teachers.
He was probably biased, though, given Izuku was the teacher in this situation, but still. The guy had a lot of things he needed to teach in the span of a single school year, and if the kids won’t do the shit they need to do during the times they should be doing it, they get work during break. That’s just how it went. You reap what you sow or whatever the fucking saying was.
“Alright. Quiet down, quiet down,” Izuku said, turning towards the chalkboard with a piece of white chalk in his hand. He shot Katsuki a small look out of the corner of his eye, a look that said ‘behave’, but come on. This was the first time Izuku could actually see him in the classroom, he wanted to make the most of it. To the point that Izuku didn’t get fired, of course. Being a little cheeky wouldn’t get him in trouble, it’d just make the class a little more…entertaining. Katsuki had been alone for eight years, he was allowed to have a little bit of fun.
He clicked his feet together where they were placed on top of his desk, hands knit behind his head as he considered his fucking-around options.
Izuku looked good in black, Katsuki had figured out. And in glasses. And with his hair cut the way it was. (He was so glad that they did that before he started teaching again; it looked so fucking good, and Katsuki was so smugly proud of himself). And those pants. God, those pants.
An idea came to mind, something a little evil, but something sure to get a laugh out of the two of them later.
”Turn to chapter twelve in your textbooks, and can someone tell me the basics of the base vigilante laws, please—“
Katsuki wolf-whistled as loud as he could, eyeing Izuku’s ass in a playful-and-not-entirely-as-innocent-as-he-was-trying-to-make-it-seem way.
The teacher tensed, face immediately going cherry red as he fought the urge to turn around and shout at the blonde. Clutching the chalk in his hand with enough force to crack it if he wasn’t careful, he slowly turned towards the middle of the room, making his frustrated-slash-pleading look at Katsuki seem like he was addressing the whole class. The blonde fought a laugh, smirking at Izuku maliciously.
The freckled man swallowed before he spoke, eyeing Katsuki with a desperate look in his eyes before actually addressing his students. “Guys, you have to actually raise your hands, or I’m just going to call on one of you.”
Someone in the middle of the classroom snickered and raised their hand, not bothering to wait for their teacher to call on them before speaking up. “Midoriya-Sensei, why are you so red?”
Izuku immediately wilted, all the fight leaving his body in one fell swoop. “It’s April. We’re in a hot pocket. I don’t have very good temperature regulation. Any more questions about my complexion will not be answered or entertained.”
It was a good cover up, Katsuki would admit that much. Even if he didn’t feel things like people who were actually alive did, he knew what it was like to overheat, and Izuku, being the easily-flustered-but-talks-a-big-game guy that he was, was definitely showing those symptoms, just for different reasons than he claimed. Embarrassment and frustration were factors, most likely. Katsuki was known to elicit those emotions in a lot of people when he was alive, and he certainly didn’t plan on changing that now, if only on a more harmless scale now that he’d grown more mature.
“And,” Izuku leaned on one hip with a scowl on his face, “since you were so kind as to mention it, Mr. Nakano, you can answer the question I actually asked.”
The teen, sporting two little horns on his forehead and a mop of thin black hair rolled his eyes, but read off the piece of text his teacher had prompted him to say anyhow.
“The text says: ‘According to the Japanese Government, a vigilante is any committee or person who uses their quirk without a hero license to participate in activities heroes are generally permitted to do, such as addressing criminal activity by oneself.’”
Izuku snapped back to his usually sunshiney, dorky demeanor and nodded, turning back towards the chalkboard to write down the information on the first bullet point. “That’s correct, Nakano. Thank you.”
Katsuki snorted at Izuku’s stark change in attitude, just barely noticing the tightening of the teacher’s grip on the chalk in his hand. Hah. You’re not fucking subtle, dumbass.
“Now, here’s a more opinion based question for you all,” Izuku, with slightly gritted teeth, turned to look at the class again, shooting Katsuki yet another pleading look, as if sensing that he was, in fact, planning something devious, then directing his attention back to the students once more, “Are vigilantes good, or bad? What are your opinions on the matter?”
Huh. That was…a really good question. It was enough to get the students engaged and willing to participate in the conversation, even if it was through a heated debate. The blonde knew Izuku could handle that, though. He could be really scary when he wanted to be, even Katsuki could admit that much.
“Well,” a girl with teal hair and a prehensile tail piped up, little ears atop her head flickering back and forth with every noise, “They’re untrained most of the time, going out and doing things that they really shouldn’t be doing without the proper preparation, so they’re probably doing more harm than good, right?”
”But what if they were trained?” Izuku questioned, smiling a little softer than before. “What would your opinion be then?”
A boy off to the left of the room with fiery red hair and orange eyes squinted. “They’re still doing all of this without a license, wouldn’t that make a lot of problems for law enforcement and government figures to try and weave around? Like, the whole concept of ‘they’re doing good, but without the proper permit’ would probably make decisions on arresting them pretty difficult, therefore causing issues where there shouldn’t be issues?”
“But what if they found a loophole?” A teen with froglike eyes spoke up, tilting their head to the side. “If they didn’t use their quirk, maybe that wouldn’t give officers a probable cause for arrest, and all those issues would be solved?”
Izuku nodded, writing down all the ideas in concise little points on the board.
Katsuki found himself weirdly enthralled with the whole topic, the idea of being cheeky flying out of his head, even if just for the moment.
He was in his element, teaching about something he had direct experience with without letting any negative opinions sway him. He was so focused that it was almost like he forgot Katsuki was there.
Izuku pushed up his glasses on his face, tunnel visioned on the topic at hand as he finished up the last of his neat little marks on the board.
Oh, god, that was hot.
Eight years ago, he probably would have screamed at himself and everyone around him for having that thought. Now, though…he’d long since accepted thoughts like those. Took them in stride, even, despite the nagging solemn and guilty twinge tethered to each one.
”And that brings us to my next point.” Izuku tapped at the board with the piece of chalk in his hand. “Even if the vigilante doesn’t use their quirk, they’re still putting themselves in danger. Heroes worry just as much as normal people, if not more. That’s what makes a hero; we worry, and then we act on it. We meddle where we’re not supposed to and save people.”
Izuku paused as the room slowly erupted into agreements and affirmations of that fact, and only continued when the class quieted.
“But,” he began, “at the same time, that vigilante could be doing worlds of good; reaching people that we wouldn't normally be able to reach, saving people in the shadows without worry of reprimand or punishment. This is why people are so split on the usefulness and necessity of vigilantes in the first place; They toe the line between law and morality.”
Katsuki chuffed, a proud smirk coloring his features. That was the Izuku he knew and loved; analytical and thoughtful and using awfully professional language.
Something soured in his gut, even if just for a moment, but he pushed that feeling—he thought it might’ve been jealousy, or maybe deep seated, foreboding dread—all the way down to his ass. Hell, to the ninth circle of fucking hell. He would’ve made a tenth if he could.
Like he said. Watching Izuku teach never lost its novelty, and, despite the little buzz under his skin telling him to be a little shit, his awe easily—by a landslide—took over that spark like a wave crashing over a cliffside, eroding at it until there was nothing left.
That thought took Katsuki by surprise, but only a little bit. He’d gone fucking poetic, hadn’t he? What-fucking-ever. He had time to unpack that later, while Izuku was sleeping and he could afford to zone out against a wall for twelve hours straight, just like when he was alone.
Dozens of nights over the past eight years, he’d just…sit against Izuku’s wall and watch him with longing eyes. With terrifying thoughts banging against the walls of his head like zoochotic animal clawing at the bars of their cage, screaming at him that this was all wrong, that this wasn’t right, that he was losing himself and that this wasn’t what he wanted—
…
And yet, the only thing he’d focused on most nights since he’d realized that fateful day (or was it a night?) god knows how many years ago was the question of:
Did he love Izuku?
Watching the damn nerd beam over hypotheticals and hero laws, he knew he did.
A damn shame that was.
—
The looks that Katsuki was giving him didn’t slip past Izuku. Not one bit.
In fact, it’d been the very thing at the forefront of his mind that whole day.
Because something in his eyes screamed ‘awe’ and ‘affection’ and for the love of god if that didn’t catch Izuku off guard, the world was ending.
Still, he had a job to do, so he did it. And he made damn sure he did it well.
He’d expected Katsuki to be a jerk, pull a few pranks, distract him or get him flustered—and he’d certainly done that, in more ways than one—but this…this was horrifying and definitely not normal.
Why did everything have to be so confusing? He wished Kacchan could just be mean to him again, as crazy as that sounded. That feeling was slowly bubbling into something angry and confused and distressed and resentful, and Izuku wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it.
So he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t face it. Not yet.
”Alright guys, have a great day, and please, for the love of god, do the assigned work—it’s due next class. And to those of you who didn’t do the reading over break, significantly more points will be deducted from your final score if you don’t turn in an exceptional overview tomorrow alongside the assignment from today.”
Izuku made sure to stay behind his little podium as his students filtered out of the classroom, if only to collect himself before he had to talk to Katsuki again.
He couldn’t be angry. There was no reason to be angry. Katsuki was being nice to him for once in his goddamn life (excuse his colored language, Izuku felt he was allowed a little leeway right now with all the confusing emotions swirling around his head), something he’d only wished for in his farthest dreams or in his worst moments; the times he took a blade to his stomach and wished maybe he’d nick something important, or the time he sat alone in the bathroom with his lunch discarded on the floor, trying to will the burning on his shoulders and the bile tickling the back of his throat away.
So what was this sickeningly warm dread? Where was that icy feeling now? Why was his head so foggy and why were his eyes so glassed over? Why was he haunting his own life right now?
”Your next class is in an hour, yeah?” Katsuki questioned from his position at the back of the room, and Izuku swallowed down any bashfulness or dread or confusion that he may have been ruminating over before responding in a more-exhausted-than-he’d-like-to-have-sounded voice.
”Mhm. I have a free period right now.”
Katsuki stayed quiet, maybe ruminating over a response, maybe something else. Izuku was looking away from him before he could think about it too hard.
Walking over to his desk, Izuku sat down and started to thumb through his lesson plans for the rest of the day. He’d made things easy for himself that day, as if he’d predicted his energy would be low or his mood would be off the Monday he went back to work in some act of spontaneous premonition. There were only a few more classes for him to teach, and he wasn’t subbing in for any teachers in or teaching any hero training classes until the next day. Only time could tell how that would go.
It’d be fine. It had no reason not to be fine. Izuku could ignore the buzz of uncertainty under his skin long enough to give his students good combat tips.
Only one time did Izuku look up from his lesson plans, to look for the red pen he was certain he’d left there over break, to find Katsuki scowling at him with a peeved, slightly pensive look on his face.
Well. Maybe not slightly. Katsuki looked like he was waging a war in his head.
Izuku shot a small, forced smile at the blonde, grumbling when he failed to find his red pen and was forced to use a blue one in its place.
The air was thick with something odd, something unfamiliar. A tension so thick that you could cut through with a hot knife and take a square out of it.
How strange was it that the first thing that came to Izuku’s mind for what that tension could be, was guilt? That the thing that was swirling around in his nostrils like smoke was a heavy, heavy longing that he couldn’t quite place?
Well, apparently it was strange enough for him to push it down like all the other strange feelings he’d been having lately.
Even if that longing didn’t quite feel like it was all his.
Notes:
Chapter title is from The Hand by Annabelle Dinda.
laughs evily and ominously
Chapter 25: A Toll, A Tithe, The Passage Of Time
Summary:
“One step at a time.”
Notes:
TW for mention of suicide attempt(s) and allusion to self harm.
also!! here is a new piece of art, not necessarily for this fic in specific (though based on a line from it) but whatever. shameless tumblr plug. [X]
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The rock that Izuku was kicking veered off path, and, with a slight grumble, he decided to abandon it in favor of staying en route to his apartment.
”I’m just saying, if they had you as a teacher, I bet they would get all their work done on time—well, probably early, come to think of it. You’re pretty terrifying sometimes.”
Katsuki grinned proudly. “Of fucking course they would, I’d scare the brat outta all of them, make ‘em learn to respect their damn teachers. Don’t think I didn’t hear them complaining about not having done their assigned work and getting reprimanded for it. That was bullshit.”
Izuku sighed, clutching his yellow backpack strap in the hand that wasn’t holding his hero suit case. “That’s not even the worst of it. Did you hear my third class? I swear they have a vendetta against me. I might have to pull a Mr. Aizawa and expel all of them, start them off fresh. Clean slate or whatever.”
Scoffing, Katsuki turned his head to scowl at Izuku, though he had a feeling it wasn’t at him, but more at what he’d said. “I‘d back you up. That kid with the fire manipulation quirk can kick fucking rocks. Who’s he to say whether or not you’re fucking fit to teach? Self proclaimed asshole.”
Izuku chuckled somberly as they turned onto the street to his apartment complex. “He was just frustrated at himself, you know that. You almost tore Mr. Aizawa a new one multiple times when we were in high school, too. Cut him some slack.”
Katsuki settled to roll his eyes, directing his attention to the road in front of them, hands in his pockets.
The evening was quiet, save for the sound of the occasional bus or car passing by and the low hiss of spray paint somewhere in the distance. Izuku briefly glanced up to see where it was coming from—he was still a hero, after all; if someone was vandalizing public property, he kind of had to report it—only to see no one there, the brick wall bordering an alley across the street marred with fresh, dripping red paint, a circled X drawn hastily on the terracotta, dots placed haphazardly in the pauses between lines.
…
Where had he seen that before?
His expression pinched, eyebrows raising curiously at the sudden déjà vu that washed over him. He slowed down momentarily to assess the situation, before shaking it off and turning to a slightly concerned Katsuki, who’d stopped only a few steps after he did.
“What’d you see, nerd?”
Izuku shook his head. “Nothing important, don’t worry about it. We’re almost home, let’s just keep going.”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow, but followed suit in continuing towards the apartment building.
Izuku took a deep breath in and a deep breath out, clutching his briefcase harder than he would’ve liked to admit.
Normally, he’d have expected the blonde to tell him to “Pay attention, idiot”, or “Stop getting fucking distracted, dumbass” and then get mad at him—he was not expecting him to say “What’d you see, nerd?” and then not explode in his face when he brushed it off as nothing important.
God, Izuku was getting tired of his bullshit.
The back and forth from being fine to not being fine to being perfectly dandy and fine again, the worried glint in his eye, the thick guilt he felt wafting off the guy in waves comparable to individual tsunamis. He hated not knowing why.
He was almost tempted to taunt him, just to hear the growl of his anger once again, like a moth chasing a flame or a bunny putting its head into the jaws of a wolf. They were stupid metaphors, but they did the job, he supposed.
They pushed open the doors to the main floor (or, more accurately, Izuku opened them and Katsuki slipped through), making a beeline for the stairs.
He swore he saw Katsuki’s eye twitch through the corner of his eye while they ascended the steps, but he figured that he just made it up.
—
Katsuki was this close to blowing his green haired idiot of a companion up. This. Fucking. Close.
Something was clearly wrong with him, from the dead set of his jaw and the thoughts flashing in his hooded eyes like subtitles for his inner turmoil, but he just…suffered through it. Didn’t speak up, didn’t mention it, brushed him off whenever Katsuki did. It was a dread that built up over time, sneaking between happy moments like ink or mold or some kind of slime and staining the surface of their interactions a little more each time it reared its ugly fucking head.
“Nerd. That was the lamest, fakest sass I’ve ever heard from anyone in the history of ever. Fucking talk.”
A sigh.
“I need to get ready for patrol, Kacchan.”
He’d meant it when he said they needed to fucking talk about this, but…maybe now wasn’t the time? God, Katsuki didn’t know! He’d never been good with this kind of thing, even if he’d done his best to improve himself over the past eight years. Being alone meant he never got to actually put that information to the test, so all his knowledge was based on theoreticals and hypotheticals, and he couldn’t exactly rely on that shit when he talked to Izuku.
So, he’d stick to small talk. Something domestic to tamp down the gnawing frustration and concern in his gut.
Izuku placed his suitcase down and dug through the side pocket of his backpack, pulling out his housekeys and unlocking his apartment door with a twist of his wrist. The two of them stepped in, and Izuku started to toe off his shoes at the entrance, while Katsuki sauntered (albeit with a little hesitance to his steps) into the main room, swallowing his concern and pausing halfway in to turn around and address Izuku directly.
“You’re good at that, you know. Teaching.”
Izuku, after hanging up his coat on a little hook just inside the door, took in a deep breath. Exhaling after a moment of tense silence, he turned to look at Katsuki with a confused, exasperated look on his face, like he suddenly had something to say about that.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Katsuki’s expression pinched in confusion. “What?”
Izuku ran a hand down his face, dragging his eyelids down with it before speaking again. “I’m tired of you bullshitting me. What did I do? Just tell me and then we’ll go back to you screaming at me and things will go back to normal again.”
What the fuck?
Katsuki scoffed, rearing his head back in a disbelieving grimace. “You’re fucking kidding me right now.”
”No, I’m not,” Izuku said dejectedly. “I’m genuinely confused about why you’re acting so weird. Are you teasing me or something? This isn’t your normal brand of torture, Kacchan.”
Okay, seriously. What was this dumbass talking about?
”I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that, freckles.” Katsuki crossed his arms, tilting his head downwards.
Izuku sighed, starting to stalk tiredly off towards the kitchen. “Nevermind, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
”Oh, like hell I’m not gonna worry about it. You wanted to talk, let’s fucking talk.”
Izuku stopped mid step, shoulders slumping.
“What the hell is up with you lately, huh? Don’t think I was just gonna let you get away with being so jumpy without a proper explanation. Not after everything that’s happened.”
The green haired teacher shot an exhausted look his way. “I’m just tired. All of this…” His hand gestured to him, “is a lot. It’s all a lot. Sorry for being snappy with you.”
Katsuki’s eyebrows pinched together. “Midoriya fucking Izuku, stop being such a fucking martyr and tell me what is actually wrong so I can fucking fix it.”
”That is precisely what is wrong, Kacchan!” Izuku exploded, tears pricking at the edges of his vision, and Katsuki’s anger faltered for a moment. “Why are you suddenly so used to being worried about me? Are you trying to give me an inferiority complex, or are you just like that now?”
Katsuki sneered, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Izuku, I have spent almost every waking hour the past eight fucking years watching you haunt the life you used to lead. It’s pretty fucking hard not to worry about you.”
”But why?! Why is that suddenly so easy for you to admit? The you I knew eight years ago would’ve combusted before he let those words even enter his head! What changed, Kacchan? Why did you change?” Izuku cried out, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes in pure, confusing anger.
A hand on a boxcutter.
“Kacchan, give it back.”
Katsuki desperately tried to push down the memories that flashed in front of his eyes like frames in a movie, faux heart fluttering anxiously.
Reaching for a pill bottle, struggling with the cap and sinking to the floor of the bathroom, no tears, no sobs, no emotion at all in the action. Like a robot programmed to do so, like it was what he had to do, no exceptions.
Screaming, begging, pleading with whatever was out there to let him stop him, to let him tear the bottle from his hands, because “it wasn’t his time yet”, “he still has so much to do”, and watching him pop open the top and put the bottle to his lips and realizing that “I am about to lose him”, only for their teacher to get there just before the pills dropped into his mouth.
Katsuki yelled, anger renewed and frustration doubled. ”They almost…I almost lost you, Izuku! Multiple fucking times! You tried to kill yourself not even forty eight hours after you found out that I died! Do you know how devastating that was to watch? Do you realize how detrimental that would’ve been to Auntie Inko’s mental health?”
Izuku stared at him, shellshocked, tears flowing steadily down his freckled cheeks. “What does that have to do with anything, Kacchan?”
Katsuki groaned, digging his hands into his scalp. “A lot happens in eight fucking years, Izuku! That’s my point! A. Lot. Happened. I had a lot of time to think and I saw a lot of things and I had some pretty jarring wake up calls and now I’m trying to be better. Why are you so angry about that? I thought you didn’t like when I was a jerk to you! Hell, I didn’t like when I was a jerk to you! So what the actual fuck has got your panties in such a fucking twist?”
—
Izuku took a moment to process what the blonde had just said, breathing in shakily before speaking again.
”Things…our relationship…is different now, but I don’t know how it’s different because you won’t tell me. You’re acting so much nicer than you used to, but you’re also still acting like you, and, believe it or not, that’s fucking confusing as shit! I want to know why! I want to know if—if we’re even still friends, or if you’re mad at me, or why you looked at me with that…that longing in your eyes when I was teaching and why my hero suitcase having ‘Wonder Duo’ engraved in it made you falter and why you’re suddenly so focused on keeping me alive.”
The blond sneered, and, all at once, Izuku realized his eyes were watering. Not just his own, for once. Kacchan's.
Izuku sniffled, his voice marred with a heavy, heavy sadness and laced with dread for the answer to come. ”I want to know what big realization changed what we had.”
A moment of silence, a war raging behind Katsuki’s eyes. “Izuku, you’re a dense, stubborn, fucking idiot.” Katsuki spat, with a venom Izuku hoped wasn’t fully intended. “You want to know why? Fucking fine.”
Katsuki took in a shaky breath, as if convincing himself to say his next words.
“I realized that I love you. I realized that I wanted to become someone you wanted to be around, even if we were just friends. I realized that I’ve always fucking loved you in one fucked up way or another, and I just had to go and fuck it all up long before I realized. ”
Izuku stood there for a good long moment, the remnants of a frustrated laugh bubbling up in his chest.
…
What?
“And god, I’ll be cursing myself for all of eternity for that one, because who the hell am I to think I could ever deserve someone like you.” Katsuki gestured to Izuku with a limp hand, frustration seething under his skin, and Izuku swore he felt the room warm. “I lost my chance a long fucking time ago, Izuku. I lost it the moment I stopped treating you like a real fucking human being because of something as stupid as a quirk.”
Hold on a minute. That couldn’t be right.
“You changed because…because you love me?”
Katsuki sighed. ”Stupid, isn’t it? The big bad Kacchan, tamed by his undying love for his childhood best friend. It’s cliché and idiotic but fuck, Izuku. It’s kind of hard not to love you.”
Izuku panicked, ears ringing as his world crashed down around him. “N-no…you don’t…you don’t! You can’t! I’m always making you angry and-and you hate me, don’t you? Or maybe you don’t? God, I can’t even tell anymore, but I think you do? You’re only here because…because…” He hesitated as his tongue danced and dodged around the words he was trying to say.
Terrifyingly, even in his overthinking fervor, Izuku couldn’t think of any other reason he would have stayed.
Katsuki sneered. “Yeah! Fucking yeah, I do love you! I was a stupid fucking teenager who took my anger and fear of inferiority out on other people, and I will never, ever, live that down, and I’m sorry that I fucked you up so bad that you’re so used to it that you’re practically begging for me to be mean again. But no. I won’t be doing that.” He took a breath, trying to steel himself.
“So yes, Izuku, I’m fucking in love with you. Whipped, even. But that means fucking nothing. You don’t deserve the torture of loving someone like me. You don’t deserve to be subjected to that hell, and, even if you try, I won’t fucking let you.”
What?
Let him?
Izuku fumed. “You don’t get to decide what I want or deserve, Katsuki! You don’t…you don’t get to just barge in here and make all these decisions about my feelings, my wants and needs, after not being here for eight whole years! Hell, you don’t get to do that at all!”
Katsuki stood there for a moment, seemingly in shock at the use of his given name and not the childhood nickname he was so used to, and Izuku, with tears rolling rapidly down his cheeks, continued.
“So what if I love you too? So fucking what if I believe that we could work? Are you just gonna give up? Tell me no?”
Immediately, Izuku knew he’d said too much. He should’ve just let it go, let Katsuki push him away so they could go back to normal, but god, something about hearing Katsuki get so angry on his behalf made the words tumble out of his mouth before he could stop them.
After a moment of heavy breathing and snotty hiccups, in which Izuku’s whole life flashed before his eyes, Katsuki’s mouth opened to speak, expression gentle.
—
“Say that again,” Katsuki breathed, chest fluttering like a sparrow’s wings.
”Kacchan, me swearing isn’t that big of a deal,” Izuku scoffed, glaring daggers at him. He let out a small sniffle and a hiccup, wiping his eyes with the side of his hand.
”No, not that.” Katsuki paused, taking a moment to gather his shaking voice into something more whole. “So what if you what, Izuku?”
He couldn’t have said what Katsuki thought he said, right?
”That I l-love you too?” Izuku sniffled again, chest heaving up and back down in rapid succession as he fought a wave of sobs.
He didn’t deserve this.
Katsuki blinked owlishly. “You’re joking me, right?” He let out a disbelieving laugh. “You can’t actually think that.”
I told you to jump off of our middle school’s roof.
“I…I was so, so horrible to you, Izuku.”
I gave you those horrible scars on your shoulders.
“Kacc—“
“No,” Katsuki took a few steps back, face twisting and twitching with restrained emotion, “no, you don’t. This is just some…some fucking stockholm syndrome shit.”
He needed to push him away. Get him to realize that he’s so, so wrong, and then have everything go back to whatever mind-numbingly normal they’d been at the past few days. That was better than losing him. That was better than risking their entire relationship over some stupid crush.
(At least, that’s what he told himself.)
”Bu—“
”No, Izuku! I said fucking no. You don’t…you don’t get to make this decision. Not this time. Your perception of me is horribly, horribly warped, and…and getting me back after I died…that just made it even worse.” Katsuki groaned, leaning his head back and covering his face with his hands. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I should’ve never come.”
”Kacchan!” Izuku practically screamed, tears coming fast and a panic attack just on the horizon.
Katsuki paused, shell shocked, letting his hands fall to his sides.
”Let me fucking talk, you—you asshole!” Izuku snapped, hiccuping and taking in sharp gasps of air through his nose. “If you l-leave me right now, I swear to g-god, Kacchan.”
Katsuki didn’t say anything to that, staring at Izuku with his eyebrows pinched. He opened his mouth to speak, but, when Izuku glared at him, he shut it.
“You have been my h-hero since we were little. And…and I know consciously what you did was bad, and I know that I s-should be feeling horrible, and that I should hate you, but…” He paused. “I don’t. I want more th-than anything to be your friend, and, by my own v-voltion, I want to be something more. That doesn’t mean I’m not still confused and frazzled and a l-little bit mad at you, but it is the truth.”
The mimic-heart in Katsuki’s chest skipped a beat.
“You don’t get to leave me just because you feel guilty. That’s selfish and r-rude and honestly really shitty, even for you, Kacchan.” He went quiet for a moment. “I just got you back. I can’t…I don’t think I’ll make it if I lose you again.”
Katsuki stood there, jaw clenched, eyes watery.
He hadn’t…he hadn’t thought about it like that.
He was protecting Izuku, right? At least, he thought he was?
What if he was just hurting him by keeping that information to himself?
Fuck, that was the whole goddamn reason he was upset, wasn’t it? The fact that he didn’t know why Katsuki was suddenly so fond of him was actually driving him insane.
Lord, he was so fucking stubborn. He was sure that it was going to be the death of him. (Metaphorically and literally, though in a past tense for the latter.) He’d stubborn-ed too close to the sun and hurt the nerd and now he was going to have hell to pay for it.
’All you do is hurt him,’ a small voice in the back of his head whispered.
But…maybe that wasn’t true.
But it is.
But what if that could change?
It can’t.
Katsuki schooled his expression into something softer, something more genuine and less shellshocked.
”Izuku.” He breathed. “I’m sorry.”
—
Izuku panicked. “Kacchan, Kacchan no, you can’t do this to me, please, I-I can’t do this without you, I’m sorry, just please t-tell me what to do to fix it, just please don’t leave me, I—I just got you back, and I don’t even know what I’d do without you now that I’ve experienced you again and—” Izuku dissolved into pitiful sobs, snot dribbling down his nose and fat tears sliding down his cheeks.
”I’m sorry.”
Sorry for what? Sorry that he wouldn’t let him love him? Sorry for not telling the truth immediately? Sorry for being a dick?
Sorry that he was about to leave?
“De—fuck—Izuku, that’s not what I meant!” He barked, white hot panic flashing across his vision. He rushed up to the freckled man, who was backing himself into the counter as his world spun around him.
He’s leaving me. He’s leaving again and it’s all my fault because I was confused and angry and I messed up and oh god he’s leaving me again and I’m never gonna see him again and—
“Fuck! Izuku! I’m here, and I’m not leaving you. I promised I wouldn’t, so I won’t. Goddamnit, fucking breathe, you idiot!”
Izuku sucked in a few sharp breaths, blinking the tears obstructing his vision out of his eyes to see Katsuki crouched in front of him (when had he ended up on the floor?), crimson irises staring into his eyes with a worry Izuku only understood now.
”Y-you’re not?” Izuku hiccuped, voice shaking and teeth chattering.
Katsuki shook his head, eyebrows curled inwards in a worried expression. “You’re stuck with my ass, like it or not.”
Izuku sniffled. “Promise?”
”Shitnerd. Who else is gonna fuck with you? That’s my fucking job, no one else gets to have that luxury.” Katsuki sighed, shaking his head. “Yes, I fucking promise. I wouldn’t just up and leave—not now, not ever. That’d just be cruel.”
Izuku brought the back of his hand up to wipe his nose, which had snot running down from it from how hard he was crying. “Okay, okay, okay,” he said, nodding his head along with the words.
Katsuki waited a few moments before speaking again, his voice a tad gentler than before. “We good?”
Izuku laughed wetly, wiping his eyes with his hands. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Katsuki huffed and rolled to sit next to Izuku, his back to the cupboards. ”Fucking good. Can’t stand it when you cry, makes me all sad too.” He muttered that last bit as if it was something revolutionary, a truth only he knew or a well kept secret.
A heavy, not so heavy silence washed over the two of them, the apartment dead silent before Izuku spoke.
”…You love me?”
Katsuki chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”
Izuku laughed as well, tears still lining his waterline but no longer falling. “That’s fucking stupid.”
Katsuki’s expression morphed into something of mild horror and feigned anger. “Midoriya Izuku. You get that fucking word out of your little freckled fucking mouth.”
Izuku raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’m allowed to swear. This is a new thing for you and I’m trying to stop it before it starts.”
Izuku rolled his eyes, leaning his head back into the cupboards farther and rolling his head to look forward. “Fine. I’ll dial it back.” He yawned, eyes suddenly droopy and heavy. Not heavy enough to constitute falling asleep right then, but heavy enough to have him debating whether or not he should get into bed.
Katsuki stood and jerked his head towards the bed before Izuku could mull it over further, his decision made for him.
Acquiescing, Izuku stood and dragged his feet to his bed, sluggishly picking out some pajamas and putting them on before slipping under the covers alongside Katsuki.
”I’m sorry that I was mad at you,” Izuku murmured, laying on his side (as was Katsuki).
The man in question scoffed. “You had every right to be, I was being a fucking idiot. I made an executive decision for you that I had no right to make, and I’m sorry for that.”
”’S alright. I get why you kept it to yourself.” Izuku rolled over onto his back, hands on his chest and hiccuping.
Katsuki hesitated before he spoke again. “We need to address all of this, you know. It’s not just a one and done thing.”
Izuku sighed and nodded. “We don’t have to do anything about it right now, though. Take it one step at a time.”
Katsuki grumbled. “Well, first thing’s fucking first, I want to know how I can do better, or if there’s anything else worrying you so I can squash it like a stupid fucking bug. Kill two birds with one stone or whatever the fucking saying is.”
Izuku took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. “…sometimes I still can’t believe you’re really here,” he muttered sheepishly, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t consciously believe that you’re a hallucination, but…sometimes it’s hard to believe that you’re real, especially when the you I knew is most definitely not the you you are now.”
Katsuki hummed. ”I bet it was really fucking jarring to experience me so differently so suddenly,” he murmured, a smile plastered on his face. “Bet I scared the shit out of you.”
Izuku smiled, laughing through his hiccups. “I was expecting you to pop out with guns and swords and fire coming out of your mouth, and then instead, you cried.” He lifted up his arms in emphasis, rolling his head on the mattress to look at Katsuki directly and folding his arms back down onto his chest moments later. “It was terrifying. I was so confused.” He paused. “I still am. Just a little bit, somewhere deep down.”
Katsuki held his pinky out on top of the comforter, and Izuku bittersweetly phased his through Katsuki’s as well.
”We’ll figure it out, ‘zuku. We always do.”
Izuku smiled.
”Yeah. Yeah, we will. One step at a time.”
Katsuki nodded, not taking his eyes off of Izuku. “Yeah. One step at a time.”
Notes:
Chapter title is from The Hand by Annabelle Dinda (once again).
THEY HAD The Talk™ !!!!!!! tried my hardest with this one, please forgive any mistakes!!
your honor they’re in love but in a kind of dysfunctional there’s-still-work-to-be-done kind of way. your honor they need therapy. your honor they can’t kiss because one of them is a ghost. your honor they’re doomed. your honor please stop crying it’ll be okay. or will it?
please ignore all the sudden format changes i’m indecisive and trying to figure out how i want to format future fics by using this one as a guinea pig. forgive me
ALSO!!! this is the longest chap (as of 21/12/25) standing at a whopping 4287 words! wowie!
Chapter 26: A Parade of Ghosts—
Summary:
Izuku tests out his newfound power, and—hold on. They’re betting on what?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Awkward.
That was the word to describe their dynamic now.
Soul grippingly, air thickening-ly awkward.
It was to be expected, of course; The night before had been…a lot. It was all a lot to process and Izuku knew that it wasn’t going to happen overnight. They still had things to talk about, boundaries to make, problems to solve…
That’s what having relationships was. Things happened and plans changed and you had to adapt.
Even if adapting meant giving each other a little extra breathing room.
(And even if that breathing room gave the two of them a little too much space to think.)
Izuku tapped his blue pen against the desk as he graded the papers from the previous day, cheek laying on his hand as he stared down at his student’s reports.
The heroes-in-training in the class that he was currently grading were doing well, but, then again, there wasn’t much to go off of, given it was the beginning of a new school year. The kids that hadn’t done the assigned reading over the break seemed to struggle a little more than the others, as was to be expected, but overall, the scores for the content weren’t all that bad. More often than not, his pen was marking numbers higher than sixty, which was reassuring the fact that he hadn’t completely failed at teaching them the basics the previous year.
His thoughts started to drift to the fiery blonde sitting at a desk near the front of the room, since his students had long since gone to lunch and free period for the next hour—and even so, he only had so many classes to actually teach in a day—leaving the space completely open for the ghost to roam without disturbing anyone.
How were they meant to talk now? Would things just…go back to normal? And would that “normal” be before-he-died normal or after-he-died normal? What would change, if anything at all? It’s not like they could…hold hands, or whatever it was that people who liked each other did…would they ever get to do that? Did Kacchan want to do that in the first place? Did Izuku want that? They had kind of held hands a few times, and it wasn’t terrible or scary or displeasing, so maybe he did want that? What do people who like each other in this kind of situation even do? Were there any movies with ghost-human love stories in them? Should he…like…study, or something? What should he study? He hadn’t really been in any relationships—Uraraka and the girls had certainly tried to get him to reach out to a girl (or boy) or two over the years, but work always took priority, and he was afraid that he would fail them or not be good enough. Hence why he hadn’t really dated anyone. Were there things he should know about for the future? Should h—
”What the hell are those fucking papers about, anyway? Nothing that constitutes thinking about that shit, I bet.”
…
He’d said all that out loud, hadn’t he.
Izuku’s face grew warm, pink flushing his cheeks as he glanced up at the blonde.
”S-sorry.” Izuku squeaked, putting the hand that had been holding up his head over his mouth.
Katsuki smirked, hands laced behind his head and feet on the desk in front of him. “Got something you wanna talk about? Or are you just mumbling to mumble?”
”’S not important right now, don’t worry about it,” Izuku murmured into his hand, quickly moving through the next few paragraphs of the paper that he’d meant to be grading, but, obviously, had spaced out on. Could his face get any hotter?
Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “We’ll talk about it later, then. Don’t think you’re getting out of that shit, ‘zuku.”
Izuku nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. When I’m not busy grading papers, we’ll talk about it. Promise.”
A knock on the classroom door brought Izuku up from his slouched position at his desk to see none other than Aizawa-Sensei, in all his homeless-looking glory, standing in the doorway with his usual dry expression plastered on his face. Izuku swore he saw something flicker behind him, but, upon realizing nothing was there, he shook off the thought.
”Oh, Aizawa-Sen—I mean, Mr. Ai—I mean…” Izuku wilted.
Great. Foot in mouth. Good going, Izuku.
Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is it really that hard to get right?”
Izuku’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “You have so many names, you know? A-and sometimes it’s hard to get the right one in the right place at the right time.” He leaned back in his chair, hands moving from his pen and neck (the pen rolling across his desk, abandoned) to rub his face.
”Just call me Eraserhead, kid.”
Izuku nodded. “Sorry.” He peeked out through his fingers, then dropped his hands to his lap when he was assured by his Sensei’s not angry but still uninterested expression.
Aizawa leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Bakugou is treating you okay, I hope?”
Immediately all the blood shot directly to Izuku’s cheeks, lighting him up red like a string of Christmas lights. He was ninety nine percent sure he couldn’t get any redder.
”T-treating me well? Uh, what do you mean?” Laughing nervously, Izuku glanced helplessly at the blonde, who snickered evilly at the scene—though the pink dusting his cheeks didn’t slip past Izuku. Not one bit.
Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “I meant that I assume that he isn’t causing you too much trouble?” He ran a hand down his face. “Problem child, what has he done now?”
Izuku froze, mulling over all the responses he could possibly give before his teacher spoke again.
“And please tell me the truth. I hate to admit this, but there are quite a few bets going on in the teachers lounge about…” He paused, as if debating something less incriminating to say they were betting on, “…having you two in the workplace, and I’d really like to not lose two thousand yen to my own husband.”
”What the fuck?!” Katsuki barked, brows furrowed as he shot up from his laying down position..
Izuku grew even redder than before. (Apparently he could get redder. Wasn’t that something.)
“Wouldn’t that just…stay your money? If you two have a j-joint bank account, I mean. Though I shouldn’t assume how you two handle your finances, that’s kind of intrusive, isn’t it? God, I’m sorry, I’ll shut up now.” He swallowed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “What exactly are you guys betting on…?” Izuku croaked.
Aizawa sighed deeper this time. “You’re correct, Mic and I’s finances are none of your concern. And I can’t tell you what we’re betting on. It’s a rule Midnight made back in the day, no reason to change it now.”
The freckled man sombered for a moment, but he quickly schooled his expression before it could fully show on his face. “Well…he didn’t really…do anything…it was more of a…” He sputtered in an attempt to find the words without really finding the words.
What does one exactly do in this situation?
When faced with the fact that a ghost professed his love to him just the night before, it sounds like he’s a little bit insane.
He looked to Kacchan for guidance, who just grumbled “You think I fucking know how to handle this shit? Figure it out yourself” with a small, smug I-know-what-I’m-doing smirk on his stupid face.
Izuku, giving up, tried the first thing that came to mind. “…a…realization?”
He winced, immediately regretting his choice of words.
Yeah. That was stupid. Aizawa would absolutely catch on, and there was no turning back now.
Something akin to understanding (he really hoped it wasn’t) flickered in Aizawa’s expression before he spoke again, and someone down the hall—presumably Present Mic eavesdropping—groaned, a string of colorful not-curses (“oh what the fricking frack dude, this is not rockin’, yo!”) echoing through the hall.
Aizawa gave a creepy, “logical ruse” grin. “Thanks, kid. You just won me…four thousand five hundred yen.”
He stood, ignoring Izuku’s pure and utter shock, and shot him a glare, quirk activated for dramatic effect. “Now get back to grading. I’ll be damned if I find out you’re distracted at work.”
Izuku stuttered, eyebrows shot all the way up and hands out in a “why? Why would you do that?” pose. “You were betting on his—my—crap, our confession?!” He slammed his hands down on his desk and shouted after his coworker, who was already out the door by the time he got the full sentence out.
Holding his head in his hands now, Katsuki holding his stomach in the heat of his laughter, Izuku groaned. “Oh my god Kacchan, they knew.”
”That—That also means, that they k-knew in fucking high school!” Katsuki coughed between sputters, wiping tears out of his eyes. “And I thought I was fucking slick!”
”Well, you were, because I certainly didn’t know,” Izuku mumbled.
“You’re just fucking dense, ‘zuku, that doesn’t count.”
”Hey, I’m pretty observant!”
”Just not when it comes to people. Sure, you could spot if someone fucked up the side-stitching on All Might’s Silver Age costume, but the moment someone tries to flirt with you, you’re an absolute dumbass.”
Izuku pillowed his head on his arms, hands in his hair and the lower half of his face hidden behind his sleeves to hide the once-again growing blush on his face at the prospect of someone (in particular) attempting to flirt with him and him being blissfully unaware. “Kacchan is so mean.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Kacchan is just telling the fucking truth.”
Izuku rolled his head to the side melodramatically, sluggishly moving his fingers to retrieve his blue pen from where it’d rolled to, behind a small “worlds best teacher” mug (given to him by his students, more specifically Kota).
The tips of his fingers landed on something relatively pen-like, so he grabbed at it, only to find that it was…his red pen. That he’d searched high and low for the day before, to no avail. And now here it was. Just…randomly on his desk in one of the first places he’d checked—since the cup was right there, it was likely that it had rolled out or Izuku had missed the hole in an attempt to toss the pen into it at one point or another—with no sign of ever disappearing except the evidence of him losing it the day before.
Izuku furrowed his brow as he clicked the back of it, making sure it still worked before reaching for what was actually his blue pen to finish grading the paper he was working on. No use in changing colors halfway through, even if finding the other one was an anomaly.
Maybe he’d been distracted. That was it. He’d probably just missed it or something in his search—it’s not like one of his coworkers would take his pen and put it back without asking him first, right? Izuku would have to ask at the end of the day. Maybe someone had borrowed it and he’d just forgotten?
”Why are you looking at that pen like it’s the holy fucking grail?”
Izuku tilted his head, placing the pen in the mug and going back to grading with his blue one. “I thought I lost it—the pen,” he was sure to add that bit to make sure Katsuki didn’t retort with something like “‘course you lost it, you’re fucking insane” like he’d set him up to. “but apparently not. I looked for it everywhere yesterday and…well, now here it is. Just a bit strange that it’s popped up out of seemingly nowhere, nothing to worry too much about.”
Katsuki scoffed, leaning back against his chair and propping his feet up on the desk once more. “Tch. You’d lose your head if it weren’t attached to your fucking neck.”
Izuku shrugged, setting aside the finished report with the rest of them. “There. All done.” Katsuki chuckled at Izuku ignoring his statement, then went quiet.
There was a moment of semi-silence (only broken by the sound of Izuku’s squeaky chair rotating with his every movement and papers being rustled around) as Izuku rearranged his desk to prepare for his next class in…an hour, ish, and Katsuki seemed to use that time to debate his next words.
”Hey, ‘zuku.”
”Hm?” He turned in his chair to look at the suddenly contemplative blonde.
”You can only see me right now, right?”
Izuku bobbed his head. ”Yeah, though I think if I tried—“
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Just checking.” Katsuki interrupted him, nodding and gesturing for him to go back to what he was doing.
Izuku raised an eyebrow and turned his body towards him, sitting up straighter. “Why do you ask? Did something happen?”
Katsuki bit his lip. “There’s…someone here that I think you might want to see. Only if you want to, though.” He paused. “ And don’t you dare lie to me and jump into this just because I fucking mentioned it,” the blonde snapped.
“…Oh. Really?” Izuku’s eyes lit up with a barely restrained curiosity.
Who could be here that he’d want to see? Obviously Kacchan had to be talking about a ghost of some kind, otherwise he would’ve just said who it was without any apprehension, so what ghost that Kacchan knew was here, on campus, that he had a connection to? And—
“How do you know? If you don’t mind me asking,” Izuku followed up.
Katsuki hesitated, looking off to the side. “I explored a little bit, initially. Just once or twice. Ran into her when I came here. Since we’re here, and she’s here…’sides, we can do what we fucking want. Who’s gonna tell us not to, huh? Not like we’re committing a fucking crime or something.”
Izuku tilted his head in thought. Clearly it wasn’t something he wanted to delve into right then, so Izuku wouldn’t pry. Katsuki was being vague for a reason, Izuku assumed, and he planned to respect that until the right time to inquire came.
Also, her?
“Okay, okay!” He smiled, amping himself up. “This is a good opportunity to test out this quirk, see what the parameters for control are, get a feel for upping the percentage I have it activated at…And I’m excited to see whoever it is that you’re implying we’re going to see.”
Katsuki scoffed. “Of fucking course you’re making this about the quirk. Dumbass nerd.”
Izuku shrugged. “It’s just who I am, Kacchan. Now, do you want me to like…follow you, or…?” He stood from his chair, resting a hand on the tabletop as he took a few steps away from his previous position.
”Who the hell said we were going now?!” Katsuki barked, tilting his head down to glare at Izuku.
The teacher tilted his head to the side. “I mean…this is my longest break of the day, so now is probably the best time to do it, don’t you think?”
The blonde didn’t speak for a moment, stewing in the fact that Izuku was, in fact, completely and utterly correct. “Fucking fine.” He slid his legs off the desk and stood up, putting his hands on his knees to get himself upright. “You got an excuse, just in case anyone asks where the hell you’re going?”
Oh. That was a good point.
Izuku made his way towards the exit to open the door for Katsuki, lifting one shoulder in a noncommittal way. “I wander the halls a lot on break. No one will question it—for the most part, anyway. If anyone does, I’ll tell them that I’m just meandering around. No big deal.” He paused, hand on the flat doorknob. “Though Aizawa-Sensei—I mean, Eraserhead,” he corrected, “will probably be a little angry if I don’t reassure him that I’m done with my marking.”
“Tch. It’s just like you’re in school again. Must be fucking weird to have your late homeroom teacher as your coworker.” Katsuki commented and trudged out the door first, Izuku on his flank. Nodding at Katsuki’s words and humming an acknowledgement, he made sure to shut his classroom door all the way on his way into the hallway. His key for school had a little Hawks keychain on it, the same variant as his housekeys, except…well, Hawks.
”So…where are we going?” Izuku wondered allowed, leaning forward to look at Katsuki, hands fiddling with his tie (which he’d decided would be yellow that day—it was nice. Maybe he’d do that more often) before settling in his pockets.
The hallways were pretty deserted, since most (if not all) of the students were in the cafeteria, so Izuku wasn’t afraid of getting caught talking to Katsuki. It’s not like his coworkers didn’t know—Aizawa Sensei had insisted over the phone before his first day back that the rest of the staff be made aware of the situation to avoid any uncomfortable or potentially dangerous situations. Izuku still deserved to preserve a little bit of what was left of his dignity, didn’t he?
”Just down the hall. She doesn’t stray too far from the teachers lounge, or so she said.”
Izuku nodded, following close behind to ensure he didn’t make a wrong turn and end up in some other teacher’s business.
The two of them ended up in front of Present Mic’s door relatively quickly, Katsuki taking the time to peek inside and make sure no one was watching (since it practically overlooked the door to the stairs) before gesturing to the stairwell. Izuku opened the door, Katsuki slipped in, and the teacher followed suit.
Barely a flight of stairs later, Katsuki stopped on one of the flat floor spaces between levels. Izuku raised a brow at the puzzled expression that crossed his face and the acknowledging nod he gave to seemingly nothing before he turned to look at him with his arms crossed across his chest, but decided he would find out why he did that (or who he did that to) in a moment.
“Okay. Turn on your new fucking quirk or whatever it is.”
Izuku huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. “It’s not just that easy—Oh my god it is.”
He stood still, slack jawed as two (two?) figures faded into view, one he most definitely recognized, and someone who he most definitely didn’t. Swallowing down the small tears that had threatened to surface at the sight of his old teacher, Izuku spoke in a small, disbelieving voice.
”Miss Midnight?”
The navy-haired woman, looking just a smidge older than she’d looked the last time Izuku saw her, smiled at him somberly. “Hey there, kid.” She’d probably already had the time to process his being there, hence why she wasn’t surprised at all. Though Izuku was a little confused as to why she wasn’t perplexed at his ability to see her at all. Maybe she’d learned from the other teachers? Whatever. Not the point.
Midnight looked…not dead. Just like Katsuki. There was no sign that she had ever been in battle, other than any existing scars from previous ones, but no details that pointed to her cause of death. Midnight’s glasses were good as new, and her hero outfit looked the same way. If anything, she just looked a little more mature, her smile lines a little more defined and her eyes a little softer. The biggest change was her hair—chopped short and to her ears, still spiky, but more…professional, for lack of a better term.
”You’re…still here.” He murmured, still doing a double take on her existence.
She laughed gleefully, (just as she always had when she was alive). “Oh, you silly boy! It’s not like I could just leave you guys like that! I promised that I'd watch you guys become the best heroes one day, so I did.” Her joyful expression sombered a little bit. “‘zashi and Sho need me there to keep them in check, too. Oboro over here wasn’t doing a good enough job as it is. Can’t believe he needed an upperclassman to do the job for him, even after all these years.” She elbowed the unfamiliar-to-Izuku (and apparently Katsuki, too, from the confused-angry expression on his face) figure in the side, eliciting a small whine from the man about her using her “upperclassman status” on him too much.
”Who the hell’re you?” Katsuki barked, furrowing his brow. “You weren’t here last time.”
The cloud-haired man chuckled sheepishly, holding out his hand to Katsuki to shake.
”That was eight years ago, bud. I was probably roaming around somewhere el—“
Katsuki swatted away his attempt at civility, to Izuku’s and his displeasure—Midnight just laughed into her hand.
After being rejected by the blonde, he held out a hand to Izuku before thinking better of it, muttering an apology. “Ah, that’s…that’s so awkward.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’d think I’d be used to the whole “being a ghost” thing, since it’s been…what, twenty two years now? Since I died? But no. I guess I’m not.”
Izuku shrugged, smiling bashfully. “I-it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
So he was dead before Midnight and Kacchan? Why was he at Yuuei in the first place? Did he have a connection with someone (or someones?) in the building, or was he a teacher there at some point? He thought he recognized his face from somewhere, but he couldn’t quite place it.
The man had cloudy blue hair that seemed to float like Aizawa-Sensei’s did when he used his quirk, but all on its own. Or perhaps it was just really fluffy, who knows? There was a white bandage over the bridge of his nose, and a small patch of stubble along his jawline and chin as well. Was he wearing…aviator glasses? Was his outfit meant to be a hero costume? Was he a dead pro hero?
“Shirakumo Oboro, at your service,” he bowed theatrically, crossing his legs and putting his arm over his chest. Standing up after Izuku waved him off with a flush on his face, insisting that “he didn’t have to do that oh my god stand up”, he continued. “Crushed by a building in my Yuuei days, doomed to roam these halls until I pass on to an eternal void or whatever it is that comes after this!” He raised two of his hands, fingers bent to look like claws and laughed evilly. Izuku was pretty sure he was joking about the whole “haunting-the-halls” thing. At least, he hoped he was joking. “Since we’re at school, though?” He lowered his hands to dig into the fluffy pockets of his aviator jacket. “You can call me Loud Cloud.”
”Loud Cloud…” Izuku muttered thoughtfully. “Were you a hero student at Yuuei? I-if you don’t mind me asking, of course!”
Loud Cloud nodded, eyeing Midnight with a somber, joking (could those two things be present at once?) glint in his eye. “Uh huh! And what a hell of a time that was. Wish I could’a done third year, sure looked like a hoot. Bet it was all the better actually experiencing it.”
After a moment of sad silence from the group (and a slightly more somber than before, still mildly annoyed and perplexed silence from Katsuki), Loud Cloud shrugged and laughed it off. “Can’t say I missed the exams, though. Yeesh, Sho and ‘zashi barely made it through! I thought it was bad watching you go through them, Nem, but god, those two’s study habits were going to be the death of them.”
Midnight rolled her eyes. “They weren’t that bad, and ‘sides, they were mourning. Your passing was hard on both of them. Can’t really expect them to just…keep trucking like they’d done before after something like that.”
Loud Cloud shrugged. “Annnyyyywaay, let’s get out of the weeds. I’m dead, blah blah blah it sucks. It’s nice to officially meet you, Midoriya. Or, rather, Deku, if that’s what you’d prefer.”
Izuku momentarily wondered how he knew his name, but if he had a relationship with Midnight (and apparently Mr. Aizawa and Present Mic, if he recognized those nicknames at all) then it would make sense that he’d overheard his name at least once in the twenty two years he was dead. “It’s nice to meet you too, Loud Cloud. And Midoriya is fine, don’t worry about it.”
Katsuki glared at the two ghosts for a moment before speaking up. “Alright, that’s enough. Izuku, Cloudfucker. Cloudfucker, Izuku. Took two fucking seconds.”
Izuku rolled his eyes at Katsuki, and Loud Cloud laughed. “Feisty. I like him. Nem, why didn’t you tell me about this kid?”
Midnight raised a brow. “I did. This is “Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight”, or Bakugou Katsuki.”
Loud Cloud made an ‘oh’ face, snapping his fingers. “Ohh, that makes so much sense! Spiky blonde hair, red eyes…Sho talks about you a lot! Apparently he’s deemed you as a problem child—what an honor! Though most of his children are deemed problem children, so, you know—”
”The hell he does!” Katsuki turned to Izuku, who just shrugged. Loud Cloud wilted at being interrupted, but quickly bounced back.
”Oh yeah, you’re a sensation in the teachers lounge, kid. Every time Izuku does something he learned from observing you out in the field, they put a coin in a jar. Metaphorically,” Midnight quipped. “They would be broke if they actually put a coin in every single time that happened. Sometimes it’s chocolate or like…an extra pencil.”
Izuku felt his face heat up. “I didn’t know about that.”
Katsuki grinned smugly. “”Coure they’d be broke. Izuku was basically a fucking stalker. Had a whole notebook on me and everything, no wonder most of his aerial moves take after me.”
Could he get redder? He was pretty sure he was getting redder. That was a pretty common thought that day, it seemed.
“Kacchan…” He’d never been ashamed of having a notebook (or two—but he didn’t need to know that) before, why was it making him so nervous now?!
Midnight raised a brow at Izuku’s flusteredness before gasping and putting her hands over her mouth. Immediately, Katsuki shot her down.
”No.”
”Yes.”
”I swear to god, Midnight.”
”And you just had to wait until you were eight years into the grave?!”
”Oh, fuck all the way off! Izuku, we’re leaving.”
Izuku watched helplessly as Katsuki started to make his way up the stairs. ”But—“
”No buts! This witch is about to make you super uncomfortable and I swear to god I will figure out how blow her and her little friend’s face off if she says another fucking word.”
”Aww, the big bad Dynamight making sure his little crush is okay, how sweet! Makes me feel all warm and gooey inside!”
Izuku turns to look at the two ghosts, Midnight waving him off with a all-too-joyful laugh and Loud Cloud looking at the scene with a confused look on his face.
”Off you go, then. Wouldn’t want to upset your blondie over there.”
”Piss off!” The blonde in question barked over his shoulder, slouching as he made his way up the stairs.
”I’m sorry about him, I’ll be sure to visit again soon!” Izuku smiled sheepishly at the two ghosts, giddy about testing his quirk and seeing Midnight and meeting Loud Cloud and embarrassed about Katsuki being a little heathen and saying stupid things that made him blush and blah blah blah blah blah. He was feeling a lot of things.
Taking a breath, he spoke in a gentler tone. “Before I go…are you okay?”
Midnight’s expression dimmed. “Yeah, kid. I’m okay. Now go. Wouldn’t want you to go over your allotted break time talking to me. Sho would rip me a new one if he knew.”
Izuku nodded, turning to Loud Cloud.
“Yeah. I’m okay too. It ain’t all that bad being a ghost, you know. Sure, I miss eating sometimes, and being able to sleep, and being able to, you know, actually touch things, but it’s all something you get used to in time.”
Katsuki grumbled at the top of the stairs, which Loud Cloud apparently took as his cue to stop talking. “See you later, kid. Watch out for falling buildings.”
Izuku nodded with a slight grimace at the dark joke and followed Katsuki up the stairs with a wave to the two ghosts, checking his watch.
His eyes bugged out of his head when he realized they quite literally only had five minutes to get back to the classroom and get ready for his next class. “Oh my god! Kacchan, we have to go! Now!”
Izuku flung open the door and sprinted down the hallway, Katsuki on his flank, barking stabbing comments at Izuku about his far-too-lengthy meet and greet session with “cloudfucker”, as he’d called him.
Today’s been a good day, Izuku thought, even as he was racing to unlock the door to his classroom with a three minutes to get his things in order for the students that he most definitely heard getting ready to come back to class downstairs.
Maybe awkward wasn’t so bad.
Notes:
Chapter title is from wallet by Adrianne Lenker and Buck Meek.
so guess who accidentally made a filler-esque chapter almost 5k. guess who got a litttlllleeee too excited about writing nemuri and oboro. tugs shirt collar.
on that note, this chapter is the longest so far (as of 28/12/25) at 4,838 words. i got too used to writing long chapters, since one of the fics i’m prewriting has like. 5k—7k word count chapters. this will probably happen again. am i sorry? not really. :3
also merry belated christmas! was gonna post a holiday special but uh. turns out i did not have the time for that, especially when i was experimenting with something new to me! next year gang, next year.
“the quirk” instead of “his quirk”. oughh
also!! forgive me if i suck at writing oboro, i have not read vigilantes yet! let me know if i made him too ooc and i will be happy to fix it! literally writing him going off of a hope and a dream <\3
For those wondering how Oboro’s situation played out, here’s the gist of it:
He exists separately from Kurogiri. When Shouta and Hizashi did their whole “get through to him” bit at Tartarus, he was thrown back into his body. He was unable to access it again until the next time that happened. After Kurogiri died in the final war, he was permanently, with no hope of re-accessing his body, a ghost. So yeah. For the most part, and for all intents and purposes, Oboro has been a ghost the whole time. Yay for backstory for a character that may not show up again!
Chapter 27: —And Dirty Sheets
Summary:
Shower shenanigans and conversations about labels and truths.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Kacchan, go sit on the bed or something!” Izuku whined from the bathroom door, towel slung on his arm and clothes folded in his free hand—the one that wasn’t holding the door open to give Izuku a way to chide Katsuki.
“Why the hell should I? ‘S not like we’re ‘just friends’”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“anymore. What, you scared I won’t like it?” Katsuki crossed his arms, leaning against the hallway wall to look at Izuku with a raised eyebrow and a way-too-flirty smirk on his stupid, stupid face.
So much for ‘awkward’.
”Scared I won’t—Kacchan, get the hell out!” Izuku cried, the dopey grin plastered on his too-red-face betraying his mock anger. “I need to shower! Like, I stink! Really bad!”
Katsuki scoffed, making no move to leave, but clearly letting up a little bit. “You’re no fucking fun. Since when were you such a prude? You’d have the fucking curtain up or whatever,” he rolled his hand for emphasis.
Izuku puffed out his cheeks and sighed, deep and long. ”Kacchan. I do not have a curtain. We have had this discussion before. My shower. Is. Glass. A-And it’s not prudish to want some privacy while I shower!”
Katsuki shrugged and started to walk off. “Fine, nerd. You win, I’ll stop psychologically torturing you now.”
Izuku rolled his eyes. “Thank you.”
There was a pause where neither of them spoke for a moment, Katsuki still moving to sit on the bed and Izuku standing in the bathroom door watching him go, warm light illuminating his back.
The green haired man bit his lip.
…Fine.
”Kacchan!” He shouted after the blonde, who rolled his head over his shoulder and smirked.
Izuku shifted on his feet. “You can uhm. Sit by the door, if you want, though. O-only if you want to, of course.”
Katsuki immediately walked back down the hall, a smug pep to his step. “‘Course I want to. Why the hell else would I have asked to literally sit in the bathroom while you shower. It’s boring as shit being alone and if I’ve got a nerd to annoy then hell if I’m not gonna make every opportunity count.”
Izuku sighed, wilting. “I regret this already.”
Katsuki grinned sharply. “You don’t and we both know it.”
Izuku rolled his eyes with a smile and moved to shut the door, Katsuki slumping down on the wall as he went. The lock clicked shut and Izuku glanced in the mirror, running his hands through his few-days-since-his-last-haircut curls. They’d done a good job, he thought.
He moved to turn on the shower, cold water spraying down as soon as he twisted the knob.
Undoing the buttons on his button up, Izuku hooked his fingers under the hem of the white fabric and pulled it over his head, curls popping out as soon as it was fully off.
“Hey, Kacchan?”
The blonde grunted, the sound muffled from behind the door.
”Do you think I should tell Mr. Aizawa and Mic about Midnight and Loud Cloud? Since they have relationships with both of them.”
There was a pause (which Katsuki used to sort out his thoughts, Izuku figured) as Izuku stripped off his pants, kicking them away from his ankles haphazardly.
”They’d be fuckin’ ecstatic to know their friends are okay, I think. That or they would just be bummed they couldn’t see them. I’d bet money on the first one, though. Cockatoo over there would probably start saying every gust of wind or chill in the air was Cloudfucker trying to play a prank on them.”
Izuku nodded thoughtfully, even though Katsuki couldn’t see it. “That’s a good point.” After abandoning his boxers and compression sleeve, Izuku stepped under the— oh my god that was scalding hot—spray of water, yelping and earning and a bark of knowing laughter from Katsuki behind the door as he frantically tried to turn it right to dial the temperature to a not-boiling-him-alive level.
Lord, he wanted to take a shower, not get scorched to death!
After taking a breath and getting used to the now tolerable water temperature, Izuku continued. “What if they already know, though? Since they know you exist, I bet they have the deductive reasoning skills to figure out they were likely dropped into the same situation as you.”
Katsuki hummed. “You’re probably right.” He huffed. “Whatever, it’s your fucking decision, dumbass! Don’t lump me into your stupid fucking musings!”
Izuku chuckled, running his hands through his hair and lathering shampoo into his green curls. “Thank you, Kacchan. I appreciate it.”
The blonde grumbled from behind the wood, and Izuku cleaned the rest of his curls with the only sound accompanying being the spray of water on his shoulders and the floor of the shower.
There’d been a question ruminating in his head since…well, since Katsuki got there, really, but especially so after the day he’d had. Izuku wasn’t sure whether or not it would be appropriate to actually ask it, though. Maybe it was one of those things best kept in his head, you know?
“You’d think I’d be used to the whole “being a ghost” thing, since it’s been…what, twenty two years now? Since I died? But no. I guess I’m not.”
But…It was burning him up inside. Just a little bit. Who wouldn’t be curious (and a little, eensy weensy tiny bit afraid) to know the answer?
”…Do you ever get curious what happens after…this?” His voice wavered apprehensively, fingers faltering in his now semi-conditioned hair.
A pause.
”Nerd, where is this coming from?”
Izuku hesitated again, staring at the floor of his shower with a contemplative look on his face.
Abort mission, abort mission!
“N-nowhere. You know what, don’t worry about it.”
Katsuki hummed. “Thought we said we’d stop hiding shit from each other."
”When did I ever say that, Kacchan?” Izuku chuckled nervously.
Katsuki huffed. “It comes with the territory of “one step at a time”, idiot. Can’t really fix shit if we don’t know what the hell we’re fixing. So no more fucking hiding. Ain’t that fucking hard to understand, but I guess I get you not getting it, since you’re socially inept and all.”
Izuku pouted, and though Katsuki couldn’t see it, he had a feeling the blonde knew. That’s just how they were. “I am not socially inept.”
A muffled cackle from behind the door. ”Says the one who didn’t know Pink Cheeks had a crush on him in high school until this year.”
Izuku whined. “That doesn’t count! I had a lot going on, okay? It’s not exactly easy to split my attention from literally saving the world to social formalities and your average high school experiences, you know!”
The teacher could practically feel Katsuki’s eyeroll. “Fuck, you’re changing the topic. Stop it!”
Izuku’s expression tightened anxiously, water from his hair rolling down the planes of his back as he washed out the last of the conditioner. “It’s really fine, Kacchan.” His voice gentled, softening with every extra pound of hesitation that was tossed onto his shoulders.
Katsuki was the one hesitating this time.
“…You sure? Don’t fucking lie to me. If you have a question, just ask it. You know I’ll shut you down if it makes me uncomfortable—which you should know does not mean fucking anything against you, it means that I can make the decision for myself about whether or not the question makes me uncomfortable.”
“You don’t get to decide what I want or deserve, Katsuki!”
”I guess I just…” Izuku sighed, standing under the spray of water, not quite doing anything for the moment except talk. “Does everyone become a ghost, or is there something that comes after? Is there a reason you, Midnight and Loud Cloud are ghosts? Is there any way or reason that you might just…” He trailed off, the thought he was about to express making the invisible cords pulling on his heart tighten painfully. The words left unspoken were pretty clear, though.
Is there any way you might not be here when I wake up?
”…I don’t know.” Katsuki’s voice was quiet, honest, and…guilty? “I wish I could tell you, ‘zuku, but I just don’t fucking know. Everything plausible that I’ve come up with isn’t what you want to hear. So, for all intents and purposes, I’m in the dark as much as you are.”
Izuku shut off the shower, staying within the glass for a few moments with no water to justify it. His voice took on a sadder tone. “Thought we were done hiding things, Kacchan.”
Tense silence fell over the two of them as Izuku got out of the shower to towel off.
Katsuki’s voice pierced the silence, his words mumbled and solemn. ”The only thing I could come up with was that there was a reason. Like in those stupid horror movies where the ghost has something left to do and the main character helps them do it in order to pass on.”
”…Oh.”
Izuku, after pulling on his pajamas, opened the door, opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Katsuki falling to the ground with a string of very, very loud curses. He’d expected a thump, for some reason, but since the blonde had no actual weight, he didn’t make any noise at all.
He didn’t make any noise at all.
After shaking off the grim thought, Izuku panicked. ”Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” He stammered, the somber mood that had settled over the two of them like a weighted blanket lifting just slightly with the presence of the cartoonish scene, and the question was all but disregarded for the moment.
Katsuki glowered up at Izuku from the floor, not making any move to get up from his spot between Izuku’s legs.
Between Izuku’s legs?!
”Fucking hell, shitnerd! Ever thought to let me know that you’re about to pull the wall from behind me?!”
Izuku, much more flustered now than before at the realization that if he were wearing only a towel, Katsuki would’ve just gotten a full, 4k resolution view of his junk, rambled. ”I didn’t know you were leaning on it! And the door isn’t a wall, it’s a door!” He stumbled back from looming over Katsuki, jamming his side into the corner of the counter and yelping at the sudden flash of pain.
”Might as well’ve been a wall!” Katsuki barked as Izuku rubbed at his side and winced, fairly certain that the injury would bruise really badly. It was already blooming into a light purply color, which Izuku realized with a wince.
The blonde scoffed, sitting up on his hands and twisting his head to look at Izuku. His expression gentled at the scene of Izuku lifting the hem of his shirt to assess the damage. “You okay?”
Izuku hissed as he poked at it, but nodded. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just nicked my side on the corner, no big deal.”
Katsuki hummed, then stood. “Clumsy fucker.”
Izuku didn’t miss the not-masked-very-well worry in his tone. “Really, I’m okay,” he grinned, popping his toothbrush in his mouth with a glob of toothpaste on the bristles.
”if you’re sure.” Katsuki mumbled, standing to lean on the wall.
After he was done, he normally would, Izuku plopped his toothbrush back in its Present Mic themed cup, made his way out of the bathroom (Katsuki shifting out of the way to be sure he didn’t phase through him, for Izuku’s comfort and his own), placed his dirty clothing in his laundry hamper, checked all the doors and windows to be sure they were locked (finding none unlocked and all keys stowed away in safe places), turned off the lights and climbed into bed once he was doubly sure that everything was as it should be.
His alarm was set for the appropriate time the next morning so as to wake him up early enough to be sure he had enough time to get ready to teach the next day (was it really only Tuesday? Time was moving so slow for him these days), the clock read a half decent time, and Katsuki was settling down beside him, so Izuku figured that this was a good end to his night.
But…
There was something else he wanted to ask.
”…What does this make us?” He asked tentatively.
”The fuck do you mean?”
Izuku bit his lip, putting a hand under his head to keep his side-sleeping position comfortable for the moment. “I mean…One step at a time, right? Maybe this is the next step?”
Katsuki furrowed his brow. “Stop being so fucking vague and tell me what the hell you mean.”
He took a breath. ”Like, can I even technically date a ghost? How does that even work? I haven’t even really dated anyone living before, so I have no idea how it works with anyone in the first place, let alone someone I can’t touch or really interact with physically, and would you even want that? Do I even want that? Could I even make that happen? And does this make us boyfriends? Should we even label it if no one is going to know anyway? Do we want people to know? How would that even go, having the new “symbol of peace” dating a ghost, not to mention that ghost being someone the media is very, very concerned with calling my rival or my best friend or “my achilles heel”? Will or would we ever get to do real relationship things? And with your whole theory, what if one day you just…”
Izuku paused, blinking away the sudden fog that clouded his brain. Why were his eyes wet?
Katsuki’s lips thinned. ”Izuku. What do you want to be?”
He took a moment to think before he responded.
What did he want to be?
Well, he wanted to be friends again, he wanted to be rivals in hero work again, he wanted to be more than friends…He wanted to follow him around in their little group again, fists grabbing at his shirt as they trudged through the woods, and he wanted to be big and watching the stars on the top of a building after a long patrol, but he wanted to be able to lean his head on his shoulder without having to justify it.
“…I think I’d like to be boyfriends…Maybe? I’m…not sure yet. Everything is weird right now, and I’m still a little frazzled by this whole thing. I’m sorry.”
Katsuki nodded, like this was the simplest thing in the world. ”Stop fucking apologizing, for one. We’ve had this conversation before. You have the right to be uncomfortable and you should not fucking apologize for feeling. For two, we don’t have to decide on anything yet, or at all, if you just don’t fucking want to. It’s not like I’m just gonna stop loving you, dumbass. We have time.”
…But what if we don’t?
The thought sent a chill down Izuku’s spine.
Was that something he wanted to bring up again? They were having a moment, he didn’t want to ruin it with his paranoia of losing something he never should have had. But wasn’t he supposed to tell the truth? It would be hypocritical if he just ignored this feeling, but he really, really didn’t want to dredge that though back up right then.
”Okay,” he breathed, guilt settling heavily in his stomach.
They had time. He just had to make himself believe it.
“Us, then. We’re us.”
Katsuki hummed, seemingly content with that answer. “Alright, then. We’re us.”
Izuku nodded, snuggling deeper into his pillow and his comforter, not taking his eyes off of Katsuki, just in case he did disappear as soon as he blinked. It was beyond him if he woke up and the blonde was just…no longer there, but he could cherish the moments he had while they lasted.
What? No! He was staying. There was no reason to believe he would just disappear like that. Izuku was panicking for no reason.
“I love you, Kacchan.” He whispered.
Katsuki smiled. “Love you too, nerd. Now go to sleep.”
—
Click.
Hopping down from the balcony to the asphalt below with a dull ‘thud’.
Stashing something away in a pants pocket, disappearing behind a heavily tagged alley wall as quickly and as quietly as they came, footfalls retreating into the night as if they were never there.
…
He loved him, huh?
What an interesting development.
Notes:
Chapter title is from wallet by Adrianne Lenker and Buck Meek.
who dunnit
(also happy 312 kudos, 6,400+ hits, 185 comments, et cetera! thank y’all for being here <3)
Chapter 28: Returning to My Oxygen
Summary:
Next steps and…paranoia?
Notes:
very mild CW for Izuku unlocking his inner freak / mild sexual-ish content! tried my best, lmk if it’s ass lmao
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Uh huh, yeah, I’m doing okay.”
A gruff, dry voice on the other end of the line. “Anything out of the ordinary happen recently that I should keep an eye on?”
Izuku sighed, plucking his toothbrush from its designated cup and wetting it under a stream of water from the bathroom sink. “No, nothing weird has happened since last time you called.”
“And—“
“Yes, I would tell you. I’m not an idiot, Mr. Aizawa.” Izuku used his head and shoulder to keep his phone tucked close to his ear, nabbing his tube of toothpaste from off to the side and squeezing a glob of it onto the bristles of his toothbrush, sticking in in his mouth and walking out of the bathroom to continue his multitasking streak. Katsuki eyed him with a quirked eyebrow from his spot in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his leg up and his arms crossed, but Izuku paid no mind to him, letting his toothbrush hang loosely in his mouth to wave him off as he searched for his suit. Did he even have any clean ones to wear?
”You didn’t tell me you were hearing voices, who’s to say you wouldn’t omit any other information from me?”
The words “struggling with self harm” were purposefully left out of his tally of untold truths, which Izuku definitely noticed and took note of. He was grateful for it, though, since that was most certainly not something he wanted to deal with right then.
Especially when he was trying to get ready for work, brush his teeth, manage a conversation and where the hell was his tie?
He shuffled his phone between his head and shoulder to keep it where it was meant to be, crouching and rummaging around his closet for any piece of clean formalwear he could find. “I promised I wouldn’t lie to you, I have no reason to break that.”
A deep seated sigh. “Fine. I’ll trust you this time. It’s too bad Bakugou can’t fill me in, though. I doubt I’d have to worry about him lying to me about your current condition."
Izuku chuckled as he stood, almost choking on his toothpaste-mixed spit in the process, but quickly regaining his composure after a few coughs. “H-hey, I’m not that distrustful! And besides, Kacchan knows how to keep a secret.”
The freckled man could practically feel his teacher’s amused smirk through the phone. ”Oh? And how would you know that?”
Grumbling, after having no luck in the closet, the green haired man started to dig through his laundry hamper to find a not-disgusting but not entirely clean suit to wear that day. He was just planning on doing paperwork and extra grading the whole time, so it didn’t matter too much, but still! He didn’t want to look like he hadn’t done the laundry in far too long (even though he was, in fact, due to do a load of laundry) to his coworkers—or anyone for that matter!
“Mr. Aizawa, please, just trust me. Just this once,” he breathed exasperatedly, holding up a reddish orange tie to see if it had any discoloring on it, and deeming it fit to be worn after a few moments of observation.
“Alright, alright.” A pause, and the sound of rustling papers. “Just let me know if anything does come up.”
Izuku put down his gathered, semi-dirty clothes onto the bed so he had a free hand to hold his phone with. ”I swear I will. I have to go now, have a lovely day and stay safe.”
”Be well, Problem Child.”
Clicking the ‘end call’ button on his screen and listening to the line go dead, Izuku sighed and flumped down onto the bed, spreading his arms out and rolling his head to the side to see Katsuki laid down on the frumpy grey couch, arms behind his head.
“We headed to the agency today?” The blonde’s eyes were half lidded, uninterested but questioning at the same time. He had on casual wear; a dark grey tanktop and lighter grey sweats. It was a nice change from his hero outfit, though Izuku had no doubt he would change into that once he got his answer.
Izuku nodded, twisting his head to look at the ceiling. “Mhm. Got paperwork and extra grading to do from this week.”
It’d been five days since Katsuki’s confession (and Izuku’s consequential one)—the school week had gone by relatively quickly, and now, it was Saturday. A day Izuku had to either go do physical hero work, or do progress and damage reports at his office a few blocks down the street.
“It would explain why he’s so consistent… Your office isn’t too far from here, is it?”
Today, he’d chosen the office. Mostly because he had paperwork to do and he didn’t actually have the means to do them at home—all of his “is or has the potential to be or become confidential” items were kept at the office (which was also technically his agency—where he submitted all his data and worked out any hero-ing related problems, which also included doing paperwork for those problems) so he didn’t really have a choice in the matter.
He couldn’t claim that he wasn’t anxious about going, though.
With everything going on, the office felt kind of like sealing his fate. Somehow. It was a nagging, uncomfortable feeling that Izuku couldn’t quite place, like something wrong was just over the horizon but he couldn’t quite see it yet. Like people who can tell when it’s about to storm without a quirk to help them, just…able to tell by the tension in the air or the smell of incoming rain.
Katsuki grumbled. “I can hear the fucking gears in your head turning.”
Izuku hummed, getting up to put his toothbrush away. Pulling the item out of his mouth, he spoke. “Just nervous, I think.”
Katsuki’s expression pinched, and he twisted on his arm to continue talking to the semi-pacing teacher. “You think? The fuck is that s’posed to mean?”
The teacher in question trotted out of the bathroom back into the main space, shrugging and making a beeline for his clothes placed haphazardly on the comforter. “I dunno, I guess I’m just restless.” He picked up his tie, smoothed it out in his hands before putting it down and moving to lift the hem of his shirt, pausing mid motion at the realization of what he was doing.
“Look away!” He hissed at the blonde, who had an expression plastered on his face that told Izuku that, upon seeing his fingers hook on the hem of his pajama shirt, had no intention of looking away.
Of course.
”Prude.” He mumbled, but the smirk on his face betrayed his faux pouty tone.
Izuku’s face lit up a bright red. ”What is with you wanting to see me shirtless?!” He huffed and grabbed his clothes, stomping off in the direction of the bathroom. “Fine. I guess I’m just gonna have to change in the bathroom, since you’re a little freak.”
It hasn’t even been a week, he left as an afterthought, reaching for the doorknob in spite of Katsuki’s pleas for him to stay.
”Wait, please, I swear,” he laughed from the couch, “I won’t make it weird, come back!”
”You’ve already made it weird!” Izuku shouted, turning around to face the cackling blonde. “First you try to see me shower, now you’re insisting I give you a strip tease!”
Katsuki, mouth agape, let out a final puff of laughter before speaking again. “That is not what I fucking said, you assmuncher!”
Izuku crossed his arms, clothes in between his biceps. “In practice, yes, it’s what you meant. Also, assmuncher? Really?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, flopping back down on the couch and mimicking Izuku’s crossed arms. “Fine. Go be no fun in the bathroom. See if I care.” He disregarded the nickname with a wave of his hand, like this was just a normal Tuesday (despite it being Saturday).
Imagine if this was what all his Saturdays and Tuesdays were gonna be like from here on out.
…He wasn’t sure if he hated that idea or not.
A moment passed where Izuku debated his entire life leading up to this moment before he finally sighed and walked back out to a peeved Katsuki, head facing the couch cushions indignantly.
Besides, Izuku was a huge hypocrite. He would’ve done the same thing in this situation, he just would’ve had an easier time getting the blonde to say yes because of his cocky nature.
”Kacchan…” he drawled, standing in the space between the bed and the couch.
The blonde rolled his head with a scowl on his face. “What.”
Izuku teased his fingers over the edges of his shirt, slowly lifting up the white fabric of his shirt that read “skirt” on the front to reveal his scarred, freckled sides.
Act. This is like that one time Midnight did an improv class, right? You can do this.
He laced his voice with the most sass he could possibly muster, all for the sake of putting on a show.
At eight in the goddamn morning.
“You still want that strip tease, Kacchan, or did I make you mad?”
The question was half-serious—Izuku had plenty of time to be a little freak later, in the comfort of his shower and in the company of his right hand (and his left, if he was feeling frisky), and if Katsuki was really mad and Izuku had just taken it as a joke in his wishful thinking, he would get changed normally in a heartbeat and apologize profusely after.
It was also just a fun way to tease the blonde. He hadn’t gotten to do that yet, and since they were taking this whole “us” thing “one step at a time”, he figured this was a good next step.
One foot in front of the other, right?
Katsuki furrowed his brow. “Fine.”
Hesitating at the gruff, uninterested tone, Izuku put his shirt down, still hooking his fingers in the fabric but letting it fall around his waist. “You sure? I-I don’t want to overstep!”
Groaning, the blonde lolled his head back onto the arm of the couch. “Yes, I fucking want it! Do you have any idea how torturous it was to exist in the same space as the person I have a big, fat fucking crush on and not be able to do fuck-anything about it?”
Izuku pinched his eyebrows together. “Sorry…”
Katsuki shot him a glare. “Don’t even. Just…” he trailed off, lifting a hand to gesture to him awkwardly.
Lifting his shirt further up, teasing the view of his ribcage, Izuku nodded, suddenly feeling much hotter than before. Taking a deep breath and running his thick, scarred fingers over each bump of bone, hooking his thumbs in the divots of his hips and dragging them up and over each individual rib and cord of muscle in his side, Izuku dragged the fabric higher and higher and higher, slower with every inch of skin gained, tracing his fingers over the indentation of his collarbone until he lifted it over his head, his green curls popping out of the neckline as he tossed the shirt to the floor.
Izuku tried to not think too hard about what he was doing, though he wondered momentarily if that sass Katsuki spoke so highly of was a result of this, or perhaps the other way around.
The blonde’s eyes roamed around each divot, each scar, each rise and fall of Izuku’s chest, and the flex of the muscles in his arms, more defined due to extended use and general growth in comparison to his high school self.
Slowly, Izuku nudged the waist of his pants down with two fingers, letting his palm ghost over his thigh, which was covered by blue boxers with a black waistband—of which he slid his thumb under and pulled taught, just to watch Katsuki’s eyes pop out of his head.
He languidly tugged his pajama pants lower and lower, letting his hands trace the sides of his legs as he bent farther down, until the fabric was pooled at his ankles and he was left almost entirely exposed, sans underwear.
Standing back up fully (and much more awkwardly than he would have liked, having immersed himself in the acting of it all), he paused to let Katsuki get a good look at him.
“Is this good?” He said, voice much clearer than he would’ve expected.
”Yeah,” Katsuki croaked, mouth dry and eyes wide and fluttery in their movements, “Yeah, it is. You are.”
Izuku chuckled, putting a hand over his mouth and trying to stifle the electricity in his veins by looking away from the shook-and-in-awe blonde’s telling expression. “It really can’t be that much different than in the locker rooms at Yuuei, right?”
Katsuki scowled at him. “Not when you put on a fucking show like that.”
Snapping his head to look at him, Izuku’s hand fell from his mouth. “Really?”
Disbelieving, Katsuki scoffed. ”Yeah, dumbass, you sure you don’t have some kind of invisibility quirk that you used to go get down and dirty these past eight years? ‘Cause that was not first-time worthy, that’s for fucking sure. Sure, a little awkward and a little fast, but you’re a dumbass, so that’s to be expected.”
Izuku, after cycling through the five stages of grief in one expression, flushed further, his mind running off to places he wasn’t quite proud of.
Lapses in judgement, he’d call the memories he sifted through. All the times he thought something vile about the blonde in front of him and…expanded on it.
He was a teenager, he was bound to do some experimenting with his sexuality, okay?! It was completely normal and not creepy and come on, stop looking at him like that!
Katsuki smirked, albeit a little dopeily, noticing the increased redness of his partner’s face. “What, did I touch a nerve?”
Izuku swallowed nervously, fiddling with the waistband of his boxers (which, unsurprisingly, immediately caught Katsuki’s eye and made said eyes bug out of his head a little bit). “N-no, I most definitely do not have a secret invisibility quirk. A-and even if I did, I don’t think I would use it to do that.”
Katsuki huffed, not daring to look away from Izuku’s bare skin. “Sure, sure. I’ll believe you this time. Freak.”
”I’m your freak,” Izuku muttered, reaching for his formal pants. He slowly slid them on, struggling with the fly for a moment before succeeding in zipping it up and concealing his boxers entirely.
”Don’t think I didn’t hear that, Nerd.” Katsuki commented, chuckling shakily. “My freak indeed.”
He murmured the last part, and Izuku definitely caught it, but if he got any warmer in the face, he was sure there would be a problem to take care of before he left for work.
Only so much heat could go to his face, after all.
Izuku nabbed his button up from the bed, shook out as many wrinkles as he could, slipped his arms in, and pulled it over his head, fiddling with the waistline hem before attempting the buttons. It took him far too long to do it, tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, but when he did, he beamed.
”I’m gonna get ready,” Katsuki stated quickly, standing up slowly and letting his eyes rove over the final buttons to be done—the ones over the swell of Izuku’s stomach—before retreating to the bathroom to do whatever it was he did to get into his hero costume as a ghost.
”What, no strip tease for me?” He shouted after the blonde, (who responded with a curt “fuck off!” before retreating into the bathroom, which, thankfully, had the door open for his convenience), shrugging on his jacket and socks before attempting the feat of tying his tie in the mirror across the room.
A breeze in his hair gave Izuku pause, and he stood up mid-knot to find the source of the chill.
The window by his bed was cracked, the lock undone (though he was absolutely sure he’d locked it the night before) and the curtain billowing in the sporadic gusts of wind.
”Huh…” He mused, blinking a few times to make sure he was seeing that right. “Kacchan, did I lock the windows last night?
Katsuki strolled out of the bathroom with a raised eyebrow and his hands in his pockets, donning his hero costume once more. “Uh huh, I watched you do it. You do it every night.” He looked around with an air of worry to him, glancing around for anything out of the ordinary. “Why, what the fuck happened?”
Izuku’s expression pinched in confusion, his eyes not straying from the very open window. “That one is open. Did you…?” He turned to look at the blonde, heart rate increasing just a smidge.
Shaking his head negatively, Katsuki responded. “Nope.” He popped the ‘p’. “Still can’t do jack squat with material objects, and I’d tell you if I tried that shit. Opening a window would not be my go-to, though.”
”Huh. Maybe I missed one.” He shrugged and popped over to close it, making sure to lock it before moving back to the mirror to finish tying his tie. “No biggie. It happens.”
Katsuki hummed, eyes locked on the offending window and a contemplative look on his face. “…You sure?”
Izuku shook his head, gathering his belongings to take to the office (his hero suitcase, shoes and backpack).“I think I was just tired last night and maybe instead of locking it, I just hopped into bed? Sounds pretty reasonable to me.” He paused, turning to look at Katsuki again with a much more worried look on his face. “Why, what else could it have been?”
Slowly twisting his head to look at Izuku, he responded. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Just overthinkin’ it.”
Izuku exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Okay, Kacchan. If you’re sure.”
He picked up his briefcase and hoisted his backpack over his shoulders before moving towards the door to slip on his formal shoes, Katsuki following suit.
”Ready to go?”
The blonde nodded. “Yup. Make sure you lock the fucking door this time.”
Izuku rolled his eyes. “Hardy har har, yes, I will make sure I lock the door. Silly, clumsy, forgetful me is bound to forget to do that, now aren’t I?” He pulled the key out from his backpack and opened the door, letting Katsuki go first (as always) before he shut it behind them, locking it with his All Might key. He double checked to make sure it was truly shut tight, before stashing said key back in the super safe pocket in his bag, then began to elapse the length of the hallway to the stairwell with Katsuki in front. He spared a final glance back at the door before they went down the stairs, hand on the stairwell entrance wall.
Katsuki looked back from where he’d stopped to wait for the freckled man. “You comin’ or what?”
Izuku, after taking a moment to steel himself, nodded and turned to descend the stairs, leaving his apartment completely abandoned for the day. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
It’d be okay. It was nothing.
There was no storm to worry about now, right?
Notes:
Chapter title is from angel by Adrianne Lenker.
things are going down (and dirty?)
in all seriousness enjoy the fluff-ish while you can *tugs shirt collar*
now off you go to conspire my lovely readers! as has been stated before, comments and kudos and bookmarks and any interaction at all is GREATLY appreciated, especially now that we’re getting into the nitty gritty of this story i’ve worked so hard to set up. if you notice anything in previous chapters that you think coincides with something that happens in this last arc, i would LOVE to hear your thought, ‘cause it’s definitely there! just depends on how hard ya look. \(^>^)/
also, happy 330+ kudos, 6,800+ hits, 200 freaking comments (woaha) and uhhh and 77 public bookmarks! I read all your bookmark notes and comments and giggle and squeal at them every time so don’t you worry about me not seeing or appreciating your interaction :3