Work Text:
six.
He’s losing him to pieces, but Izuku still tries to make them count.
“Deku! When’s the dumb reunion again?”
Izuku laughs a little, bringing over some tea. Kacchan watches him as he does so, removing his glasses and placing them down his tablet. He looks at Izuku as he carries the teapot and teacups to the dinner table where Kacchan sat.
“It was last week.” He doesn’t make slips ups like “remember, Kacchan?” anymore. Whenever he does, Kacchan reacts in an explosive manner, his pride an ever present barrier from accepting his current state of mind.
“Oh yeah,” comes Kacchan’s casual answer. “Remind me, Half-and-Half’s place?”
Izuku nods eagerly. Kacchan almost never says remind me. This was improvement!
“Yeah, he just remodeled and everything. It looks good.”
Hands snake around his waist just after Izuku sets down the tea. Kacchan noses the small of his back. “Do you ever want to get a house?”
Izuku places his hands on top of Kacchan’s and his husband laces them together. Warmth rushes in his veins, a feeling that never subsides, no matter how long he’s been with him. It’s moments like these that serve as reminders for Izuku.
“Maybe,” Izuku gives as a reply to a question he’s heard over a hundred times, “It’d be a nice place to settle down. But right now, we’re closer to work and the hospital and your favorite ramen shop.” Izuku turns in Kacchan’s embrace and places a kiss on his forehead. “So, I like it here. Rent and everything.”
It gets tiring, a little, to repeat the same things so often. Sometimes he wants to create a FAQ for Kacchan and just have him read through a brochure everyday.
Where are we? Our apartment. We’ve been living here for a little over a year after we got married.
Why hasn’t my agency called me? You can still perform hero work but only certain tasks. You’re specialty now is strictly brute force rather than long-term strategic fighting, so they call you in during sudden villain attacks rather than a takedown mission.
What happened?
Izuku hates answering that one.
He hates the way he feels like he failed him. Kacchan would yell (does yell) at him that it wasn’t his problem to deal with, that he doesn’t need to feel like Izuku is the one who failed.
“Shut up! It’s not your fault! Why do you think you’re the one who needs to feel sorry? Do you think I need that? Or that I need you to take care of me like some invalid?”
He hates it, because of how he makes Kacchan feels. Of course he’s right—Izuku has no right to feel responsible over Kacchan, like he owns him or is his mother. It’s not his place to feel like he needs to take care of Kacchan or assume fault for what happened. They were both in the fight, sure, but he didn’t betray Kacchan, didn’t leave him alone to fight. Izuku needed to take care of the other villains at the time; there was nothing he did wrong during battle.
At least, that’s what he tells himself. Izuku doesn’t like feeling guilty over what happened; Kacchan hates it and Izuku doesn’t want to disrespect his feelings. But he can’t help it. Izuku can’t help but wonder what would happen if he hadn’t chosen to fight the villain, but take on the one Kacchan was battling. He can’t help to feel that if he was stronger, he could’ve prevented this.
He knows without Kacchan telling him that it’s martyr complex all over again.
Just as Kacchan can’t help his pride, Izuku can’t help his wish to save everyone. To want to have saved Kacchan. He does his best now, to help Kacchan now whenever he asks for it.
Kacchan turns Izuku’s cheek for a kiss, one that Izuku returns wholeheartedly. “Okay, so let’s stay in this shitty apartment a little longer.”
Izuku pulls back, a little offended. “Hey! I worked hard to make this apartment as nice as it is.”
His husband snorts a little. “Goes to show what your hard work is.”
Laughing with missed joy of their playful banter, Izuku shoves him. Hard enough for Kacchan to stumble back a couple steps, but not hard enough for him to lose his balance completely. “Shut up! I don’t whine about how you leave your dirty clothes everywhere or that you never throw out empty milk cartons, so don’t you complain about the apartment. I like it.”
“Even if it’s expensive and has mildew?”
“Yes, you jerk, even if it’s expensive and has mildew, because you live with me.” Izuku pulls Kacchan in by the collar of his shirt, and he’s known he’s won when Kacchan allows him to be reeled in. “I love this shitty apartment, because I love you. ”
“That makes no fuckin’ sense,” Kacchan says, before dropping a kiss to Izuku’s forehead. “You make no fucking sense and you say embarrassing things.”
“And somehow, you still married me.”
“No,” says Kacchan quietly, tilting Izuku’s chin up. “Not somehow. That’s a definitely.”
four.
“Deku, Deku, IZUKU!”
“What, what, what?”
Izuku jolts awake and startles at the sight of Kacchan thrashing around in the bed with no abandon. He was used to Kacchan rough around the edges in action, in bed, but not like this.
This was different. Worse than a nightmare.
“Kacchan, Kacchan!” Izuku yells. He tries shaking him awake but Kacchan shoves him, with explosions sparking in his fists.
“Get away, get away!”
“Let—me—help!”
“I DON’T NEED IT!” A larger scale explosion goes off and Izuku feels something hit his back. He looks up; the ceiling cracked from the aftermath of Kacchan’s quirk.
He lets go. Getting up from the bed, Izuku stands a few steps away. “Okay, Kacchan.”
He watches his husband kick the bed a couple more times before calming down a little bit. Kacchan’s breathing is heavy, but his eyes are less crazed.
“Deku…”
“Yeah, Kacchan?”
Kacchan turns his head so he can look at Izuku. His lays like a starfish, and the arm closest to Izuku beckons hims to come closer.
“I’m sorry.”
Izuku’s heart squeezes.
“It’s okay,” he says, even as he knows the meaning behind Kacchan’s words. Kacchan, whose pride remains a constant even throughout the years, who doesn’t apologize like it’s nothing. He knows that when Kacchan does, it probably takes much more than swallowing his pride down to do it.
“No, it’s not.” Kacchan wraps his arms around Izuku waist, who sits down next to him and carefully brushes the debris off the bed. “Don’t say shit like that when you know it’s not.”
Hearing those words pierces Izuku’s heart. He purses his lips, knowing Kacchan is right. “...Alright. It’s not okay. But you shouldn’t beat yourself over it. It was a miracle you even survived the brain trauma you know.”
Kacchan scoffs. “Like I’m going to go with a stick in the head.”
“Nah, you probably want something with more action, don’t you?” Izuku takes both of Kacchan’s hands to kiss them gently. The bandages on them are fresh; Izuku helped changed them last night. The ones on his head, however, are old--Izuku makes a mental note to fix those later today.
“Surviving a blow to my brain is pretty fucking badass already,” Kacchan decides. “But you know what’s cooler? If I died of old age, and all those who doubted me can go suck it.”
Izuku grins. “That’s the spirit, Lord Explosion Murder.”
Kacchan cracks a smile and they both laugh, and it’s peaceful, just for now. Just for another day.
one.
The doctor comes out with a grim face.
Ice creeps in on Izuku’s heart. He braces forward, hands tight in both Ochako’s and Kirishima’s. Tenya stands behind them, a hard hand on his shoulder.
We’re sorry, there’s nothing we could’ve done, he can already hear. Bakugou Katsuki has passed away.
Izuku chants them in his head, over and over again, wondering if he convinces himself of it first, it’ll soften the blow when the doctor confirms it.
Ochako squeezes his hand.
“Doctor?” she asks when Izuku is too scared to.
The doctor glances at all of them with hesitating eyes. He finally lets them rest on Izuku, pitiful.
Izuku hates it; he knows Kacchan would absolutely detest it.
“There is no fatal damage,” and there’s a flood of relief from all of them. Tenya turns to him, relieved and ready to shout something with eager happiness. Ochako tugs at his arm, tears brimming. Kirishima hollers with relief, practically collapsing if he wasn’t already sitting. But Izuku knows that’s not all.
Cold fear has left his heart, but now heavy dread remains.
The doctor closes his eyes, pitying.
No, Izuku thinks, don’t give me that. That’s not what Kacchan would’ve wanted.
“The area of injury is located in his hippocampus. As a result of such an intense damage to a crucial part of the brain, he has anterograde amnesia,” the doctor tells them. “Meaning that from this point on, Bakugou Katsuki is unable to form new memories.”
three.
“Izuku, Izuku, Izuku…”
He wakes up with a groggy groan. Izuku opens his eyes and tries to get a bearing of his surroundings and rolls around to look at his husband. He brushes a hand to his fringe, pushing the blond hair back. “Yeah?”
Kacchan isn’t fully awake, but his body seems to remember what to do. An arm wraps around his torso, pulling him in tight. He hugs Izuku to his body so closely that he practically kisses Izuku’s chin.
“I’m sorry.”
And Izuku wants to cry, because this isn’t him. This isn’t the person he knows, the one who seemed so undefeatable. But how can Kacchan battle his own brain?
“Shut up, you nerd.” There’s a flick to his forehead and Izuku yelps. “Your damn mumbling is so loud.” Izuku wants to argue that he wasn’t even talking, but Kacchan presses his lips to jaw and murmurs, “Don’t think I can’t get through this.”
Izuku feels guilty for doubting him. “I won’t,” he says. “Though, Kacchan if we’re reasonable, there’s little chance you’ll ever get better—”
“Yeah? And probability is all you need to decide I’ll fail? That I won’t win?”
Cold seeps into Izuku’s bones. “ No, Kacchan, that’s not what I meant—”
Arms release him. Izuku suddenly feels his stomach sink at the gesture, the lack of warmth there. “Fuck, if that’s all you think of me, then why bother? Why bother putting up with me? Do you like the thought of taking care of me, like I’m unable to do so myself?”
“That’s not what I said!” Izuku shouts back, suddenly angry. Impatience that’s been stirring inside Izuku since Kacchan’s diagnosis begins to boil. “Only that if we’re being realistic, you probably won’t get any better!”
“So that means I can’t get through this?” Kacchan throws the blankets off of him, storming out the bedroom. Izuku crawls across the bed. He stumbles after his husband, legs cold at the winter chill in their apartment.
“Where are you going?”
“Fuck if I know!” He walks down the hallway and towards the front door. Kacchan throws on a jacket, grabbing a set of keys hanging next to the door, and opens the door with expected roughness. “Apparently, I’m too incapable to remember anything, let alone take care of myself. We’ll see where that takes me.”
“Wait, Kacchan, at least—”
He slams the door hard behind him. Izuku stands before the door that separates him and Kacchan, torn and miserable.
“...take your phone.”
iv.
“How is he today?”
“Don’t let Kacchan hear you say that, he hates that question.” Izuku hefts the large knapsack on to his back. He looks past Shouto and into the living room, where Kirishima and Kaminari are sitting with Kacchan, jostling and shouting something eagerly to him. “It’s one of the better days. He wasn’t really confused about where he was this morning and explaining went by really quick. The journal is working a lot! He’s still a little bit irritable, but you know.” Izuku smiles. “That’s just Kacchan.”
Shouto rolls his eyes. “Don’t I. You sure you’ll be okay leaving him with us for several days?”
“Of course!” Izuku pouts. “I know I can be overbearing but I’m not that bad.”
“Please.” Shouto crosses his arms with a look. “You can be pretty controlling when you want to. You always want to make sure that Bakugou is okay with your own two eyes.”
“That’s not controlling , I’m just worried! And maybe a little overprotective.” Izuku adjusts the strap of his backpack. “It’s just, I’ve never been away for so long, y’know? And I know Kacchan will be perfectly fine, but what if his trauma returns? Or he has to be rushed to the hospital and I’m not there? It’s only been seven months since the accident, and the doctors say that it’s entirely possible—”
Shouto places a reassuring hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “Look, I know you trust Bakugou, and you believe that he can handle things himself, right? And he wouldn’t want you to stay here, unable to go visit your family.”
Izuku huffs. “That’s for sure. ‘You nerd, are you chained here like a watchdog?’” Izuku mimics with spot on accuracy. “Maybe a couple days away will be nice. I am kind of…well, tired.”
Shouto gives a sympathetic look. “Try to enjoy your trip, alright? It’s not often you get to go to America.”
“It is just for business.”
“An undercover op with All Might.”
“Shh!” Izuku widens his eyes, looking around frantically. “What if the others had heard! Jeez, Shouto, why did I even tell you?”
“Bakugou already knows and has a, y’know, condition, Kaminari would probably forget, and Kirishima is too loyal for his own good—”
“Still!”
Shouto smiles. “Go. Relax and do well on the op. You’re making us all jealous by getting to work with All Might.”
This makes Izuku instantly on the defense. “You don’t need to be! You guys are all amazing heroes and amazing opportunities!”
“Not as amazing as the Wonder Duo, though, huh?”
Izuku grins. “Well, c’mon, we are the best.” Years of working with Kacchan has definitely rubbed some of his ego on Izuku. It is true, however, to an extent. The title of #1 has been wavering since the incident, but for some years, Kacchan and Deku had held that spot.
“It’s a shame the duo can’t do an op together anymore.”
Izuku falls silent. “Yeah…Kacchan and I never got to do a lot of long missions, did we?” Their strength had lied in force, though their espionage skills weren’t exactly lacking either. “But that’s okay! We still get to be a team for normal battles so I don’t really mind!” After placing all necessary luggage by the front door, Izuku walks back in the living room. “I’ll go say goodbye.”
Kacchan’s still sitting on the couch with Kirishima and Kaminari. The TV’s turned on now, and they’re watching watching some old rerun of show where Izuku and Ochako had guest appeared in. It was back in the early days of their careers, before the Wonder Duo was in official existence.
“I’m headed out now,” Izuku calls. All three of them turn to look at him. Kirishima grabs the remote and pauses the show. Kacchan waves a hand for him to come closer.
“Do you have everything?”
“Yeah.”
“Passport?”
“Yes.”
“Wallet, keys, hero costume changes, arm braces?”
“Yes.”
“Empty water bottle, portable charger, emergency beeper? Your medication? You always forget that and make me fucking mail it to you.”
Izuku rolls his eyes and thinks of the small irony of who is overbearing over who. “Yes.”
“You’re forgetting one more thing.”
In questioning, Izuku furrows his eyebrows. Kacchan tilts his head up and beckons Izuku closer with a look. Izuku blushes.
“You’re so embarrassing,” he whispers, sparing his friends all sitting in their living room a glance, and then pressing his lips to his husband’s.
Kacchan sends him a piercing gaze as they part. “That’s you,” he murmurs, their lips brushing from their proximity. Before Izuku can retort or pull him in for another one, Kacchan pushes a hand to his chest and says, “Hurry up! You’re going to be late. Don’t make that old geezer wait too long.”
Izuku leans down to peck the top of Kacchan’s head. “Okay, don’t miss me too much while I’m gone. And don’t stop journaling!”
Kacchan scowls. “I won’t. Go already.”
Pulling his suitcases with him to the front door, Izuku waves goodbye. “Please don’t let Kacchan blow the apartment down! Our super hates us enough already, thanks to that one bet, Kirishima-kun, Kaminari-kun.”
He shut the door to a tirade of Kacchan’s profanities and Kaminari and Kirishima’s jeers, then leaves his apartment without a worried heart.
eight.
Izuku fidgets with his fingers. He laces them and unlaces them, twirls his pointer fingers, and stretches them out.
Kacchan flips the page. His eyes move quick, scanning the page in a matter of a seconds.
Izuku kicks out his legs to readjust the blanket over them. He feels extra impatient and jittery today. Sending a sidelong glance to Kacchan, Izuku tries to gauge his expression.
Kacchan snaps the journal shut.
“You’re done reading already?” Izuku asks, shocked. He couldn’t have gotten past a couple pages.
“Nope. Just the dumb FAQ you made me write. So,” Kacchan says, giving Izuku one look and then in a flash, flips on top of him. Izuku widens his eyes as Kacchan places both hands next to Izuku’s head, knees at Izuku’s hips. His breath shortens.
Kacchan rolls his body so his hips push into Izuku’s, the pressure of it forcing a gasp out of Izuku. Kacchan leans down, bites Izuku’s ear. Then, utterly soft, Kacchan husks, “Do I need new memories to know how to wreck you?”
With his heart pumping erratically, Izuku lets Kacchan press him against the bed. Kacchan’s eyes close and he begins to kiss Izuku with soft, lingering lips. Izuku’s eyes close, too, and he wonders just how magnetic his husband can be.
five.
“Are you looking down at me again, you shitty nerd?”
Kacchan hasn’t yelled at him to this extent for a while now. But the Kacchan that stands before him is enraged, fists ablazed, looking like one step away from blowing the building up.
“I’m better than this, you know! Just because of one injury to the fucking brain, I’m not an invalid.”
He doesn’t know what to say. Comfort Kacchan? Definitely not. Agree with him? Fight him?
“And you better watch out, Deku. You have the upperhand now, but I’m still after that number one spot.”
Izuku laughs. Really laughs. He hasn’t felt this light in weeks.
“What are you laughing about—!”
Izuku’s arms hug Kacchan from the front, his hands coming behind and resting on his shoulders. “I’m glad, Kacchan,” he says, “that you never give up.”
Kacchan grips Izuku’s own shirt. “Always fucking underestimating me,” he grumbles into Izuku’s neck.
“But you know, Kacchan,” Izuku continues, looking up at him now, “as a duo we’re the same rank?”
Flustered, Kacchan yells, “Of course, you dipshit! I meant between us. You may have won last time, Deku, but next time we spar, I’m owning your ass!”
Izuku beams. He doesn’t bother correcting that the “last time” Izuku won was actually over three months ago, and that they have had countless of spars that Kacchan all have won since then. The details don’t matter, anyways, not when Izuku knows Kacchan is the very same.
eleven.
“...And I would plan a bomb ass wedding. The best fucking wedding you’ve ever seen. People will wonder how does a number one pro hero handle his hero duties and plan a perfect wedding at the same time?”
Izuku smiles. His fingers idly stroke through his husband’s hair. Kacchan leans into it and noses in closer into Izuku’s lap.
“And your reply?”
“‘Cause the number one pro hero has the other number one with him, that’s why. We’re not partners for nothing.”
Tender feeling squeezes through his veins and Izuku leans down to press a kiss to Kacchan’s lips. The angle’s hard and his neck strains from bending so far down, but Izuku doesn’t mind.
“Tell me about the wedding.”
Izuku says this, not Kacchan. Because for once he wants to hear about everything Kacchan had in mind, had wanted for them, and not this reality they live in.
“It’ll be huge. Not cause we’re pro heroes—I don’t want none of that media intruding on our day. They already get us any other time. But we’d invite everyone we know, our old classmates, those fuckers from class B, even Aizawa, but he better clean up nicely.
“Eijiro is my best man. You can choose Round face or Glasses or whoever. They’d all cry, even Half-and-Half, who would be crying that weird half frozen and half steaming tears thing he does.
“You would wear a fucking hot tux, for one. I’d make my parents design the best thing they have—no, that’s not good enough. I’ll go to the best designer there is in Europe or some other fancy ass place.”
Squeezing his cheeks, Izuku reprimands lightly, “That’s not very appreciative of uncle and auntie.”
Kacchan snorts. “Whatever. They’d be busy enough making mine—which would be just as cool as yours. But you’d look really good in yours.”
“I knew you just wanted to see me in a suit. Don’t worry.” Izuku laces their fingers together. “We have that pro hero gala in a couple weeks. You’ll see it then.”
“Wish I could burn that image into my memory,” Kacchan says nonchalantly, closing his eyes, squeezing Izuku’s fingers back. “Now back to the wedding. It’ll take ages to freaking plan and coordinate, and the paparazzi will be a pain in the ass ‘cause I know you would want to invite every pro hero you’ve ever met, but it won’t be too much of an issue if I just unleash Aizawa on them.”
Izuku snickers at the thought of that, and Kacchan spares him a glance before closing his eyes and smiling in satisfaction.
“And don’t even get me started on the proposal! I have the ring all picked out: yellow gold, ‘cause it brings out your eyes.”
Izuku brushes Kacchan’s bangs out of his eyes, looking at his own wedding ring as he does so. It did go with eyes. Kacchan always had good taste.
“I’d date the shit out of you, so hard you won’t ever be able say I’m not romantic again. I’d treat you to that Korean barbecue place you kept whining you wanted to go to when they finally open up. You’d probably shell out my wallet.”
Izuku grins, because he actually did shell out Kacchan’s wallet when he took them to that restaurant back during its grand opening half a year ago.
“And when everything's done, I’ll take you back home, where you’ll be blabbing my ear off about what a fucking awesome date that was, and you’d be laughing, with that stupidly bright smile of yours, but I’d smile too, because you’re too infectious for your own good, and…”
“...And you’d kiss me,” Izuku finishes softly, looking up into Kacchan’s eyes. “I’ll tell you that I love you and you’d whisper it back before dropping to one knee—“
“Hey, you embarrassing fuckwad, I’m the one telling this made up story.”
Izuku kisses Kacchan’s temple. “Sorry. Go on.”
“Where was I?”
Rhetorical, but Izuku can’t help but rush to answer, “You had just gotten down on one—”
“In your version. In mine, I know there’s something else you want.” Kacchan grins wickedly and closes his eyes in smug content. “A dance. I know you want one so don’t deny it!” Kacchan shouts when Izuku is ready to protest. “I’d beat you to it, offering before you can even ask, because I know you best. I’ll play your favorite song and light some dumb candles and when I’ve thoroughly serenaded you with honestly what is the most romantic date ever, then I’ll get on one knee. I’d give you a longass speech, mushy enough to bring you to tears—”
“Just tears, Kacchan? That’s a pretty low bar.”
“You’ll cry about it for days , alright? And you’ll do that stuttering thing you do when you’re too overwhelmed and you can’t form a coherent sentence. You’ll probably be too speechless to say yes but I’ll settle for a nod as a reply to my proposal.”
“Am I allowed to hear this apparently otherworldly speech you have?”
Kacchan presses a kiss to Izuku’s brow bone. “Another day, sweetheart.”
He pouts. “Will I have to wait a million weeks before you remember that you promised me that?” Kacchan shoves him onto the bed. Izuku begins to laugh as Kacchan hovers over him with an annoyed expression.
“You keep whining like that and I’ll never give it to you. And I don’t need no memory to give you a bombass speech on why I love you, I already know the words in my heart.”
“Wow,” Izuku says, reaching up to cradle Kacchan’s cheek. “When did you get so mushy?”
“I spend too much time with you and Eijirou, you dramatic fucks.”
“Like I’m the dramatic one here, with your fancy wedding and your fancy proposal.”
“Don’t forget the reception. It’ll be—”
“Indisputably the fanciest, best, number one reception that will have people awed for ages?” Izuku laughs at Kacchan’s expression. “And how many years do you think we’ve been together?”
“Enough for you to learn when to shut up,” Kacchan mutters.
Grinning, Izuku asks, “You want to tell me about this reception you have in mind as well?”
“For the dinner, obviously we’ll get the sushi platter, and tack on all the fancy courses and shit, but I’ll make your favorites. Even if we’re insanely busy with everything else that’s going on, I still want it to be my food you eat. ‘Cause my cooking’s the fucking best. And because…”
Kacchan looks away. This is the only time he’s paused a little, hesitant.
“...Because then you’ll know I’ll be a good husband. To you.”
Izuku’s heart squeezes. “You are a good husband.”
Kacchan grunts.
“You are! You help clean and make sure I don’t sleep too late. You take out the trash when I’m too lazy to.” Izuku pats Kacchan’s cheeks. “You kiss me goodnight.”
“Should’ve known you had low standards, Deku.”
“Do I? If your wedding is anything to go by, it seems I balanced out by marrying someone with high standards. Are you even finished with your planning?”
“Fuck no, we haven’t even talked about the band yet. We won’t have some trashy pop playing—”
“—but Kacchan, you loved the new boy band—”
“—and we’ll have Earphones play us a song instead, she’ll rock it, definitely, but maybe we’ll reassemble the old crew together…”
"Crew…”
“And we’ll have that dance again, after everyone’s finished with the cake. Yaoyorozu can play the piano and I wouldn’t mind people watching us, even if it should be private.”
“Is that all?” Izuku teases.
“And…” He’s surprised to find a tear roll down Kacchan’s face. “And if I wasn’t here right now, I’d make you the happiest person in the world.”
“...Kacchan,” he says softly, finding himself crying as well, though there’s little surprise there.
“But I’m already the happiest I can be with you.”
thirteen.
“What am I doing here?”
Izuku blinks his sleep-soured eyes to bright sunlight and a vivid image of an unhappy Bakugou Katsuki.
“Kacchan?”
“Why the fuck are you in my bed, nerd.”
Izuku groans—it’s one of those days.
He mentally prepares himself, walls already prepared in case of an outburst, but he smiles patiently and sits up in the bed. “Kacchan,” he says, raising his left hand, “we live together. We’re married, too.”
“Married—”
“Several months ago, a battle left you with head trauma and the injury caused you to have amnesia. You have difficulty creating memories from the point of the accident forward.”
The mood Kacchan is in today is surprisingly good. Normally, Izuku winces when he cuts Kacchan off as a result of his own impatience from needing to tell the details of their lives over and over again, but Kacchan doesn’t react to it at all. Normally, Kacchan would feel irritated at the thought of Izuku needing to patiently explain something to him like a child. But today, there is only a frown etched in his face and coiled fists, a response to just facts. Less tense than usual.
“Months?” Kacchan repeats. “And we’re married?”
“Yeah.”
“Who proposed?”
Izuku laughs. “Like, maybe both of us? It’s kind of unclear, but it was mutual.” He shrugged. “That’s all that really matters to me.”
Kacchan is quiet. Eerily so. Sometimes, this is the point where Izuku expects explosions and anger and unacception.
But Kacchan is utterly quiet.
His eyes dart down towards Izuku’s hand, where a golden band lays on his fourth finger. Kacchan’s then glances at his own hand and sees a silver band. He looks back at Izuku’s and then leans forward to touch the ring.
“You remembered the ring!” Izuku laughs, waving his left hand in Kacchan’s face. “Everything happened just shortly before the accident, so you don’t remember the wedding or the proposal. But you remembered that you bought the ring!”
“Yellow gold, jade with a round cut. Channel setting,” Kacchan murmurs, rubbing a thumb over the band. Izuku beams.
“You had Kirishima-kun help you with it. Then you asked Ochako for approval. A pretty miscalculated move on your part, you should know Ochako struggles with keeping secrets.”
“I trusted her not to spoil to proposal.” Kacchan pinches his nose, eyebrows furrowing. “So I only remember buying the ring?”
“Imagine my surprise. I had one ready for you, too, but I was shocked you remembered what the ring looked like and everything, since you don’t remember the proposal.” He looks slyly at his husband. “That means you must’ve kept the ring around pretty long, huh, considering that it’s existence was stored into your long term memory.”
“It was never really a matter of whether I wanted to marry you,” Kacchan mumbles. “It was only whether you wanted me.”
His words shock Izuku. Even though he’s told this story maybe a dozen of times now, Kacchan has never said that to him. Izuku may need to repeat things every single day for Kacchan to understand, but Bakugou Katsuki has never been constant.
“Of course I did. I do. That was also never a question.
Kacchan nods as a response. He’s quiet for two moments more before finally speaking again.
“So, I missed our wedding?”
And Izuku’s heart just breaks.
The revelation that Kacchan can’t remember any of the special moments between them isn’t a new one, but it doesn’t get any less hard. Their anniversary. That trip to Europe that took Kacchan ages to plan. The amazing night they shared after holding number one hero duo title for two years.
It angers Izuku, because so many of them happened before the accident, why couldn’t have Kacchan remembered? Even as he thinks that, Izuku already knows the answer that has been long since given to him: The trauma was too soon after the incident. His memories did not transfer to long term. He can only remember long term memories prior to the trauma.
“Kind of,” Izuku answers. Saying that he didn’t technically miss it angers Kacchan because of course he did. He couldn’t remember it. “But we didn’t have a reception, y’know, because we were always too busy, so neither of us missed that. We did kind of have a celebration sort of dinner though, just with friends and family.”
“Was it big?”
“Not really. Hard to plan, considering, you know. Besides, you hate publicity.” Izuku takes one of Kacchan’s palms. To his credit, Kacchan doesn’t recoil and rip his hand back. “It doesn’t matter to me.” He kisses the back of Kacchan’s hand, peering at his husband between the fringes of his hair. “As long as you’re with me.”
Kacchan’s hand curls into a fist.
He lightly chucks Izuku’s chin and with his other hand, brings him in close. Lips meet the side of Izuku’s neck, right behind his ear, and Izuku shivers. “Idiot,” Kacchan says, “I know you care. You wanted a reception, didn’t you?”
“We had one! A small one maybe, but all our closest friends were there, and of course our family. Even All Might came! I’m not upset at all.”
Kacchan sighs. It’s not a tired one or an annoyed one, but one that said of course. “You wouldn’t be upset, yeah. Don’t lie to me, I know you want more.”
Well, duh. He always wanted more when it came to Kacchan. Izuku was unbelievably selfish and greedy when it came to him. More time together, more physical touches. More attention, more job opportunities with one and other. It was endless.
“Maybe,” Izuku concedes, “but that’s not anything new when I’m with you.”
“Do you still want one?” Kacchan asks him.
“What?”
“Do you still want to have the reception?”
Izuku purses his lips. “Yes,” he answers, after a pregnant pause. “I do.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“What, have a wedding?”
“Just a reception. With all that stupid, fancy dinner shit, and the dancing, and throwing a bouquet or whatever.”
“That’s usually done by a bride.”
“Yeah, well, it’s our wedding, and if I want to chuck flowers at people, I can, can’t I?”
Izuku laughs. “And where will you get the money to do all of this? You must know that next to all our hospital bills and All Might documentaries you buy, we don’t have a lot of spending money.”
“If we cut out all the All Might documentaries and merchandise you buy, then we might have some. And if we want to be traditional, I’ll ask my old man and hag to chip in. They should, anyways.”
He smiles in a way that knows has his lips trembling with excitement. “So you’re my bride?”
Kacchan snorts, flicking him on his forehead. “If you think that’s going to work to get me to wear a bridal dress, forget it.”
Holding Kacchan’s hand, Izuku beams, “But a regular dress is okay?” Izuku laughs when Kacchan scowls and flicks him again. “So we’re really going to do this? Start making plans for a wedding reception right now?”
“What, you think I can’t plan a simple party?”
Ambitious as ever, Izuku thinks. He bites his lip to stop grinning so widely. “You know there are people out there that would claw your eyes out for calling a wedding a party.”
Kacchan huffs a laugh. “They’re welcome to try. Besides, we can get a wedding planner and everything. I’d fucking hate it but if it’ll make things easier for you” —Kacchan shrugs— “then it’s cool.”
“And if you wake up tomorrow saying that you don’t want one?”
He scoffs, as if saying, please. “Here.” Kacchan snatches a post-it note pad Izuku leaves lying around the house. Kacchan scribbles something incredibly quick and hands it over, “This is proof.”
Izuku reads it, equal parts amazed at the words and at how neat Kacchan’s scribble handwriting is. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Smiling, Izuku throws his arms around his husband, who cradles him back and mumbles, “Goddamn sap.”
Plan Deku’s wedding, if you know nothing else. You know that you love him, and you can give this to him.
seven.
It wasn’t always easy to be with Kacchan.
Not when he rarely remembered what was wrong and the responsibility of telling him fell on to Izuku.
And Izuku wasn’t as patient as everyone believed. Ochako and Tenya would always come by and comment on how well he was doing, how amazed they were with how he handled everything. That wasn’t true.
Kacchan was never easy to be with to begin with, and now with this, it only became even harder.
“You’re not my fucking servant! Or a maid, needing to follow me everywhere to do everyday chores!”
“I’m not trying to be!” Izuku turns off the fire, seeing that breakfast probably wasn’t going to get very far. “I just wanted to treat you! Do something for you for once!”
“That’s rich, coming from a guy who’s acting as if I’m some kind of kid who can’t do anything properly. Kacchan, do you want some rice with that? I’m going to make some porridge, but add anything you want, okay? I have anterograde amnesia, not a time displacement disorder.”
Izuku closes his eyes and tries to count to ten. He tries to calm down before saying something he regrets.
“Oh, you’re tired of me aren’t you?” Kacchan continues, noticing Izuku’s behavior. “Spending all this time with me, being stuck here all the time, I actually thought you were getting a kick out out of it.”
Izuku snaps open his eyes. “You think I want to be here all the time?” he shouts. “You think I like to suddenly leave the agency to rush you to the hospital because you were too stupid to not do something reckless? You think it’s fun to pass on a undercover mission because ‘oh, I can’t, it’ll require me to stay away for far too long from Kacchan’. There are things I want too!”
“Then why don’t you just leave?”
“Maybe I will!” He stomps to the main door and slips on his shoes.
“I knew you would leave at the first opportunity! Fine then, leave!”
“Fine!” he yells.
“Fine!” Kacchan yells back.
Izuku slams the door. He runs down the hallway, the midday sun a piercing heat against his back. Instead of turning at the corner to go down the staircase to the ground floor of their apartment complex, Izuku grips the handrail and throws himself over it. His back leg kicks the rail with a burst of One for All at the last moment, and he takes off into the skies.
“He’s just, so frustrating, you know?” Izuku yells and slams a fist on to the coffee table. All the teacups settled on top of it rattles and Izuku flinches. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Ochako assures. She grabs a napkin from its holder and wipes the spilt liquid. “We all know that Bakugou-kun can really be a piece of work when he wants to. What part frustrates you the most? Like, his condition or his attitude?”
Izuku lets out a large sigh. He puts his head in his hands. “Argh…I don’t know. I want to say its the condition. And it’s not like Kacchan asked for this! He’s trying his best, and actually doing a lot better than I thought! He’s improving everyday! But sometimes, he wakes up and he snaps at everything I do, even though I’m also trying here and can’t he just give me a break?”
Izuku grabs the oranges Ochako had laid out as snack, and begins peeling it, just so his fingers had something to do. “Like this morning! I just asked if he wanted me to make breakfast for him and I get that he used to make breakfast all the time, and it was a little weird for me to do it before, ‘cause Kacchan’s a lot better at cooking, but is it really out of the blue? I wasn’t patronizing him, I was just trying to do something nice! Or not even nice, it was completely routine. But then he just had to start shouting.”
Izuku gets up from the kotatsu and start pacing, throwing his hands in the air in time with this rant. “And I know that Kacchan is naturally volatile! We all know he had a lot of unpleasant traits in highschool, but we all know he worked really hard to improve. So why can’t he work hard now? It’s a lot to ask, given that he almost basically forgets his condition everyday, but he wasn’t a walk in the park before, and now he’s a flat out maze! With explosions setting off at every turn!”
Ochako is patient. She listens and listens until Izuku’s out of breath and sits back down. “I’m sorry, Ochako. For bombarding you with all of this.”
“You know I’m always here to listen, Deku-kun!” she smiles at him. She pours him more tea and questions, “Do you feel like you’re trying harder in this relationship than before?”
Cupping his hands around the warming porcelain, Izuku answers, “Well, yeah, of course I am. It’s a lot harder now than ever, and I’m always putting more effort in.”
“No, Deku-kun, I mean do you feel like you’re doing thing you wouldn’t necessarily do before the accident? Like, for example cook him breakfast. Do you you think you’re cooking for him because you feel like you need to do more? Taking breaks from work because you think Bakugou-kun should be you priority?”
He falls silent. If he was completely honest, before Izuku would probably sleep in and whine for Kacchan to cook for him. And he and Kacchan have always agreed — hero work comes first.
“...Maybe a little. I try to relieve some of the burden for him…I think. He has a lot on his plate everyday already, you know, with learning about his condition anew every single day.”
“But do so you, Izuku,” Ochako answers. “He’s not alone in this. Being married to you and living with you means that everything he carries, you carry too. And we all know you like to be the one who carries everything” —Ochako gives an exasperated sigh— “but you don’t need to, remember? You’re in a relationship to count on each other. It’s not so much different from being in a duo partnership. Learning to have each other’s backs.
“Besides, you both aren’t alone. Your friends still exist! We still want to be there for you, too. And anyways, you already know this: it’s good to rant and all, but I’m not the one you need to talk to in the end.” She gives him a knowing look. “Cool your head, but get back up!”
Izuku nods. “I know.”
Ochako leans over and pecks him on the forehead. “I’m here if you need me. I know you say you can handle it but you don’t need to do it on your own.”
Izuku runs. Talking with Ochako was nice, and it was enlightening to see some things he didn’t realize before, but he’s still mad. This is both his and Kacchan’s problem, but it doesn't change his feelings. He’s still angry that Kacchan snaps so quickly. He’s still annoyed that Kacchan feels so defensive when Izuku brings up his condition.
He’s annoyed that Kacchan doesn’t appreciate him more.
Izuku doesn’t want to ask for a lot. He knows he can be greedy, can have high expectations like Kacchan. But still. He has wants, too.
“Always not letting me do anything nice for him,” Izuku grumbles as the chilly night air ruffles his hair. “Still the same inferior complexed asshole he was at four.”
He settles on the metal bar atop of some skyscraper in the city. The drop is probably over a thousand meters, but heights no longer scares the hero Deku. Not when he can save himself easily. Not when he’s faced worse.
He closes his eyes and thinks about all the villains he’s faced. The times he thought they’d never win and he’d lose something precious to him. He thinks about the times they’d come close to grazing death. He thinks about the battle where he was forced split up from Kacchan, from his partner, and came back only to see a metal pole penetrating Kacchan’s head.
Izuku thinks about the fear he felt of Kacchan dying, Kacchan forgetting who Izuku was entirely, Kacchan walking away from him.
These are the worse things.
Finally, Izuku decides to head back to their apartment. He pulls out his phone to navigate there, because he has almost no idea where he is—something Kacchan would relentless scold him for, if he were here—and unlocks his phone for the first time that day. There’s a million unread texts and missed calls, not all from Kacchan, though a generous amount was.
Izuku slides his finger down the notifications, skimming the content.
come back, you shitty nerd
where the fuck did you go?
round face isn’t letting me in, but you probably left already anyways. fine. go cool your head.
it’s almost midnight, you gonna stay out all night?
come home already
He opens up his voice inbox and listens to one of the many messages left for him. It’s the most recent one, and Kacchan’s surprisingly calm voice speaks into his ear.
“Hey, shitty Deku, it’s one in the morning. Why aren’t you back? I didn’t realize you were that pissed off.
“...Listen. I know neither of us asked for this. And I know you could just leave me if you wanted, but you haven’t. I—I, uh, hope you won’t. Even though I don’t remember any of it, your stubborn ass has probably kept me up all this time.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Izuku. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m sorry that I don’t apologize to you enough. I’m sorry you have to put up with all my shit everyday because of my pride.
“Come home, yeah? Because we’re partners and you stick with me through all of it, don’t you, even when it was probably a better idea for you to leave it alone. I can’t do this without you, not because I can’t, but because I don’t want to. I want you with me. You...you make me a better person. Come back already.”
Then, after another beat:
“I love you.”
Izuku closes his eyes. No tears fall, which is a surprise. But his heart pounds rapidly in his chest and his head swims with emotions.
Kacchan’s a lot better unpacking his feelings, is Izuku’s first coherent thought. And apologizing, is his second.
Izuku tilts his head to look at the night sky. He bites his lip. He thinks, and thinks, and thinks, until all his anger washes away.
Kacchan’s worried I’ll leave him.
What he doesn’t remember is Izuku would never do that.
He promised he wouldn’t.
twelve.
“Move, move, move, move!”
Kacchan’s shouting isn’t helping. Not at all.
“I’m trying!”
“Try harder, he’s going to get us!”
“Okay, okay, I think I’m in the safezone. Kacchan, head to the checkpoint.”
“I swear to god, if you fuck up this mission—”
“I know, just go!”
Kacchan furiously presses a combination of keys on his controller. He’s insane on the device, his fingers lightning quick, never lagging, never missing. “I can’t believe this is our fifth time playing this level. If you just paid attention to the stage a little more, and saw the fucking conspicuous sniper, we could’ve been at the next stage!”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first million times. Okay, don’t go yet, go when he shoots the red—NOW! KACCHAN, GO NOW!”
“Jesus, here I thought it was my explosions that made me half deaf, when really, it’s your banshee screaming.”
“Move around this guy slowly, slooowly, sloooooowly… ” Izuku instructs without acknowledging the snark. Kacchan grunts, equal parts annoyance and compliance. “He looks to the right first, then up, then at us.”
“Copy that.”
“Kacchan, we’re playing a video game, you don’t need to actually use mission jargon.”
“It’s habit, dipshit. And cooler. Okay, to my left. One shooter. Watch for the sniper.”
“Copy that.” He earns a small shove from Kacchan’s elbow for the mimicry. “Two down. Three more. One’s coming towards me, other two towards you.”
Kacchan does another quick swipe of his controller. Three, two, one—and they were down. Only one more. “Okay, last one. You sure you can handle it?”
Izuku narrows his eyes. He doesn’t show off like Kacchan does and instead simply takes out the last CPU. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Their two players move to the exit of the level, and they pick up a power up. As the screen displays, “STAGE COMPLETE!”, they both leap up and slaps each other’s hands in a horrible high five.
“Yes!”
“Finally!”
“That only took” —Izuku checks his phone— “three hours. You want to do the next stage?”
Kacchan falls back onto the couch, the hand holding his controller going slack. “No. I’m beat. Sick of shooting so many players.”
Izuku grins. “That’s a first.”
Kacchan sends him an annoyed look. “Save the game, will you? And turn the TV off.”
“It’ll probably take you twice as long to finish the stage if you play next time instead of now,” Izuku reminds as he watches the game save their progress. “You’ll need to re-remember everything we did today.”
“It’s fine,” Kacchan says easily. “I have you here to remind me, don’t I?”
Izuku crawls over to Kacchan’s seat on the couch after turning of the TV. He folds his arms on top of Kacchan’s chest and lays his chin over them. “We can go find new games soon. I hear in August, they’re releasing the next segment in the origin series—”
“The fourth origin story?” Kacchan sits up immediately.
Izuku suppresses his urge to giggle at Kacchan’s nerdiness. He reacts like this every single time. “Yeah. They’re finally finishing it up.”
“I can’t believe how many years it’s been. Wasn’t the second one the first game we ever played together?”
Izuku nods excitedly. “You brought the game and console from home and everyone in the dorms was raging over it.”
“Yeah, they were so fucking loud about it. I remember we finished the game the night you confessed.”
“Hey! You confessed first!” Izuku retorts, sitting up. Who did what first was a never ending argument between them, though Izuku knows Kacchan knew it was him.
“Did I?” Kacchan feigns innocence and pressed his knees closer to Izuku waist. “I was sure I remember some sort of first date you asked me out on…”
“You’re really just teasing now. You know you wanted that first date, you just made it sound like I asked you. It was your idea.”
“If I took you on a date, Izuku, it would’ve been much better.”
Izuku slaps Kacchan’s cheek playfully. “Oh, shut up. I planned a pretty good date. I found what became one of your favorite restaurants to go to.”
“Yeah, after what, fucking up every other thing we were supposed to do that day?”
“You know teasing me only works if I didn’t know you actually loved our first date?” Izuku smiles with quiet exasperation as he blinks up at him. “You used to be so much better at it, love.”
Kacchan snorts and rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, too.
Simple days—these are Izuku’s favorites. In their days off where they have the luxury of doing nothing, where Kacchan is in a good enough mood to play video games or train with him, these are the good days. It’s simple contentment, ones that has Izuku’s heart bursting at simply how happy he was.
ten.
Kacchan looks at him for a beat, his red eyes piercing and swimming with emotion. Kacchan has always been bad with letting that emotion out, and the pent up thoughts he has slowly builds behind the dam he has built. And sometimes, that dam will break, and Kacchan lets out everything he’s been holding back all at once.
Izuku feels that moment coming soon. He knows, because it’s too often like a calm before the storm.
“A year?” he finally says. Izuku had just given a run down of the whole scenario.
“What?”
“It’s been a whole year of this?”
“Mm,” Izuku says with understanding, “yeah.”
Kacchan falls quiet again.
Izuku fidgets before him, because he’s not sure what to say. He wants to comfort Kacchan, to say everything is fine, but that’s not exactly true either. It isn’t. There’s no denying that or walking around it—ever since Kacchan’s injury, everything hasn’t been the same. It hasn’t been okay. Kacchan can’t be the same hero he was before, their duo is on the brink of falling apart, and more than anything, Izuku feels the constant pressure of being with Kacchan.
“And. You don’t get tired. Of this.”
Izuku bites his lip.
“What?” Kacchan snaps. “Spit it out.”
“I mean…I do. It’s not an easy situation.” Izuku chooses his words carefully, words he’s knows have worked to ease tension before, words that Izuku has learned than can diffuse but stay true to his feelings. “But we both work hard! And I promised you I would, in my vows.”
“Why do you stay?” Kacchan asks. Izuku can see the barely controlled temper behind it. Over the years, they’ve improved their communication skills, but that isn’t to say it’s been perfected. “Is it the promise, or guilt, or god forbid, pity—”
“That isn’t it!” Izuku shouts. No, no, no. That’s never why. Even as Kacchan learns the difference between pity and altruism, Izuku knows Kacchan struggles with it, never ever wanting to rely on someone. It just goes to show how far Kacchan’s come to be able to trust Izuku and join in on a hero partnership. But even so, Kacchan isn’t without self doubt. And Izuku sees it clear as day when Kacchan glares at him, but with red eyes that waver with a sort of worry of betrayal.
“I don’t just stay because of a promise I made. I stay because I want to . Because I love you. Because no matter how hard it gets, I like being together with you.
“And more than that Kacchan, it’s amazing to see you improve! Everyday, you have to wake up and not know why everything’s different, why this is happening, and everyday, I see you overcome it and keep going. I stay, because I love that part of you. I don’t want to miss anything you do and I want to be here with you. Because, in the end, Kacchan really is amazing—”
He slaps a hand to Izuku’s face. It’s not harmful and doesn’t really do anything other than stop Izuku from talking. “Stop. Just—give me a second.”
Izuku bites in the inside of his cheek and uses both his hands to move Kacchan’s hands from his face. Kacchan doesn’t look at him as he thinks, his ears pink, and Izuku stares down at this lap.
“Then you gotta trust me, too, yeah?” Izuku looks up at Kacchan, who glances back with a sort of smoulder that spells determination. “Because I made a promise too, didn’t I? I may not remember what it was, but I know what I want. I’ve always known and strived to achieve it. It’s a shitty situation, but you gotta trust that I love you, too.”
This. It’s moments like these that Izuku lives for. That reminds him when he’s frustrated with Kacchan and his temper and his condition of why he stays. That pushes Izuku gently with the words, See? That’s why you love him.
Izuku leans up to brush his lips with Kacchan’s. Soft, light, like nothing, and yet, at the same time, everything.
“I love you, you know?” Izuku whispers, staring deep into copper eyes.
Kacchan closes the gap between them, kissing Izuku much more deeply this time. “I know. I could never forget that.”
fourteen.
“Izuku.”
Kacchan’s voice is unbelievably soft. His voice is usually gruff, full of aggression. This one’s open, vulnerable.
“Yeah?”
A hand covers his. They’re both crazy marked up. Izuku received his scars early on, but there’s no denying the lines that scar Kacchan’s skin. Izuku rubs a thumb over a particularly stark line the runs across the bottom of Kacchan’s palm and down his forearm. That is one of the few. Kacchan’s body is riddled with scars, but unlike Izuku, who owns more marks than he could ever count, most of Kacchan’s run deep inside of him.
“Do you hate it?”
He looks up. Kacchan stares back at him, a piercing gaze unmoving. His expression is blank, but Izuku can tell from his voice that it’s anything but.
“Hate what? You? ”
Finally, Kacchan looks away. After a beat, he nods.
“For what? For something you couldn’t control?”
“I could have,” Kacchan argues. Izuku snorts—some things never change.
Izuku smiles softly. “It’s not your fault, remember.”
Kacchan scowls. “That’s something I’m having a little difficult time with.”
Taking their intertwined hands, Izuku kisses the back of Kacchan’s. “I know. But you’re still you, no matter what condition you’re in. And you know that I love you.”
“That’s gay.”
Izuku ignores his sass and continues, “It’s hard, duh.” Izuku presses a kiss to Kacchan’s cheek, close to his eye. “But I love you, and I know you love me. I made a promise to you, you know? And I still do.”
zero.
“The two of us have been together for as long as I can remember, from kindergarten, to middle school, to high school...to now.
“We went through a lot, you and I. I don’t think we always knew, but in the end, it was always you. Not that we were always together…overcoming our differences, understanding each other…it wasn’t always easy between us, was it?
“But I don’t run away. Not from you.
“I can promise you that. I promise that as long as you want me, I won’t ever leave you. No matter how hard it gets, I’ll stay together. With you.”
“Will you in peaceful times, during sickness, this person love, this person respect, this person comfort, this person help, until death, do you promise to fulfill?”
“I do.”